A Daughter's Lust Rewarded

This is the third of three parts in the "A Daughter's Lust" short series.

This is the father/daughter version of a set of the "It Doesn't Count" series of three-part stories. All are basically the same with slightly different character relationships. "It Doesn't Count" involves a brother and sister, "A Mother's Lust" involves a mother and son, "It Doesn't Matter" involves an older woman and her daughter's young ex-boyfriend, while "It Shouldn't Matter" involves a young woman and her younger sister's ex-boyfriend. You can read any or all of them, according to your tastes, but the vast majority of all parts of all stories are the same.

-- The Author

Amy waited nervously in the bar, sipping her drink. It had been almost a week since their last encounter. They'd talked some, and met for lunch, but neither mentioned any of the events of the weekend. They flirted a bit with each other, but not much. It was as if none of it had never happened. Now it had grown unexpectedly awkward.

It was all so close to incest, it was hard to ignore. Yet Amy didn't feel the slightest bit guilty. It didn't bother her that they'd gone as far as they did. It bothered her that they hadn't gone farther. But she was afraid now that her father never would, or worse yet that it might have driven them further apart. She couldn't bear that.

And she wasn't sure what he thought of her now. Was she a slut in her father's eyes? Had he decided she'd gone too far? Had she ruined everything?

At least he'd agreed to meet her here, at a pub on a Friday evening. That was a good sign.

* * *

Amy sat primly and properly at the bar, seeming stiff and distant. She must be embarrassed, Don thought. Or she could be having second thoughts about everything. He'd never imagined she could be this bold, not Amy. Amy was careful, and reserved. She could be the life of any party if she ever tried, with her smile and her looks and her wit, but she always chose to hang back and play it safe.

He'd never seen such a beautiful, sexy wall-flower in his life. He couldn't understand why she was always so reserved and insecure.

At least, she had been until they had started their game. Then she seemed to change before his eyes.

Not entirely change, Don thought. She'd always acted that way with him, to some degree. She was always more open, and more in control, and more self confident with him. It was almost like she was a different person for him than for everyone else. She had grown into quite a woman, and seemed to take pride in demonstrating it to her father.

But now she seemed to be backing off.

"How was your day?" he asked her.

"Good."

"Just good?"

"Long. The day dragged on forever. The whole week has."

"Because you couldn't wait to see me?"

Don regretted it the moment he'd said it. It sounded needy. He hated that. Women didn't like needy, insecure guys. They liked a guy in control, a guy brimming with confidence. Certainly, a daughter wanted a father that she could always, always depend on. And that was what he'd always been. He honestly didn't know how she'd drawn that kind of reaction from him.

But Amy brightened at the comment. She smiled widely, then tried to hide it by taking a sip of her drink while fighting it back.

"Yes, a bit," she said after composing herself and swallowing.

* * *

They talked for a while about different things, stupid, meaningless things. Her father was a lot more comfortable and relaxed than Amy had expected. She started to think she'd had it all wrong. She got her confidence back. She decided it was time for one more try.

"The next phase of this project is going to be a bitch," he was explaining. "Too much blowing off lately, and the challenges are a lot tougher than my boss lead me to believe. I thought this phase at least was going to be a breeze."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's not your fault the project's tough, or that I've been blowing off."

"No, not about that. I owe you an apology. I'm sorry."

"So I'm going to have to work harder. Maybe stay an hour later every evening, trying to catch up."

"It was my fault, not yours. I am sorry."

Don was avoiding her gaze, looking into his drink.

"You don't ever have to apologize for anything, Amy. I'm a grown man. I do what I want. You haven't made me do anything. I'm your father. If anyone should apologize, it should be me apologizing to you."

"Not for that, silly. When I was eighteen."

That got his attention. He looked at her with an expression of confusion held in check.

"Eighteen?"

"Yes, when you got in trouble with Mom. Big trouble."

"That doesn't narrow it much. I was always in trouble with her."

"When you walked in on me, naked."

"How was that your fault, except for the way you carried on about it? Man, I got the silent treatment for a week. And I didn't even see much of anything. And it really was an accident. Really. I'd never do that."

"No it wasn't."

"It was. I swear it was."

"It wasn't. I tricked you into doing it."

"What?"

His eyes were wide now. She'd gotten a good rise out of him with that.

"I left the door ajar. I purposely took the shower knowing you were upstairs. I purposely left the shower on so you'd think I was still in it. I purposely took the CD you were looking for and put it in my room."

"You set the whole thing up? Just to get me in deep shit with Mom?"

"No! God, no. I never wanted to get you in trouble. I didn't think Mom would come up just then and catch you. Us."

"Why, then?"

"I wanted you to see me," Amy said into her glass, unable to meet his angry glare.

He didn't answer her. She didn't think he'd be this angry.

"I didn't expect Mom to come in, and when she did, I panicked. I was afraid everyone would realize what I'd done, so I threw a hissy fit, and made a big deal out of being embarrassed."

"You wanted me to see you?"

"I felt so bad that night. I put everything on you, and it was horrible. You and Mom fought, she talked about you being a pervert, the tension for the next week was unbearable, and it was all my fault."

Amy stared into her glass again, reliving all of the shame and guilt she'd felt back then.

"It was worth it," he said.

Amy snapped her head up to look into his eyes. His expression was hard and emotionless, but after a moment his mouth widened into a grin, and once again Amy melted.

"It was worth every bit of it, even for as little as I saw. I virtually fell in love with you that day. At least, I knew I would fall in love with you, if I were a young man. If I weren't your..."

Now it was Amy's turn to smile broadly. She watched and warmed and melted some more as her daddy's gaze kept dropping to her mouth, and her smile, before pulling back up to look deeply into her eyes.

"Um, do you want to come to my place for dinner tonight?" she asked.

She could hear her voice shiver as she said it. Inside she slapped herself. She sounded like a little girl, shyly asking a guy out on a date. That wasn't how she wanted it to come out.

Her father's smile faded. Now it was his turn again to look into his glass, then look around the bar.

"Sure," he said eventually, but emotionlessly.

"Can you give me a few minutes to get things ready before you drop by?"

He looked at her for a while, trying to work things out. Amy wanted to make it more clear what she was asking for. She didn't want to come out and say it, but she didn't want him to have any surprises, or doubts.

"Okay. How long?"

"Ten minutes, tops. I'll leave the door open. Just come on in."

Her father smiled at her again, and Amy melted for what seemed like the ten thousandth time in her life. She didn't want to leave until he stopped smiling at her, and she felt herself getting shamelessly wet at the same time. Her entire body tingled.

He studied her mouth again, then leaned toward her, moving his lips toward hers. Amy glanced quickly around the bar in a panic. No one was watching them. No one in the bar right now knew them. The bartender was facing the other way, washing glasses.

In a moment his lips were on hers. The touch was soft at first, but it wasn't long before the pressure increased. His lips were so warm and soft, far softer than she'd ever expected. Their mouths matched perfectly, as he moved his lips easily over hers, pressing, tasting, touching, probing, exploring. Amy parted her mouth, inviting his tongue in, but it never came.

Her father pulled slowly away, while Amy leaned into him, trying to continue the tender, un-fatherly kiss. She sat with her eyes closed, and her heart pounding, and her body slipping away. She suddenly felt as if she was falling, making her reflexively snap her eyes open as she reached for the bar to catch and steady herself. She scolded herself. She should have fallen into his arms. She should have let him catch her. She knew that he would have. He was her father.

She looked at him.

Her daddy was right there, staring at her with a look of love and longing that she'd never, ever seen in a man's eyes. That one brief, tentative kiss had been amazing. Unbelievable.

With an act of will, Amy pushed herself off of her barstool, stood up unsteadily, and backed away. She held his gaze until she found the strength to turn and walk, but she still stole quick glances back, where her darling handsome father sat staring at her, smiling, and nursing his drink.

* * *

Don entered her apartment as quietly as he could, then eased the door shut, hoping to surprise her. He walked and looked first toward the bedroom, to the left. It seemed empty. Turning, he caught sight of her to his right, through the archway leading into the kitchen.

He saw the straight backs of her deliciously long, shapely legs, their muscles made taught by high heels, and her posture. She was bent over the kitchen table, facing away, poised beside a single, long sharp knife, with her bare ass raised and exposed to him. His gaze immediately went there, to the firm, round globes of her ass cheeks, with her tempting holes, anus and cunt together, clearly exposed between them.

Her ankles were tied, separately, to the two nearest legs of the table with sheer black pantyhose, so her legs and ass were spread for him. Her sweet, tight little anus was clearly visible as a slightly darker, puckered hole closed tightly between her fleshy ass cheeks.

Her cunt beneath it was even more beautiful. He could see the curls of golden brown pubic hair, but even better he could see her cunt lips, like large undulating flower petals, glistening with moisture, and seemingly already open for him, beckoning to him to enter her as quickly as he could.

Don stood there a long while, watching her. He'd moved quietly, so he didn't know if she'd heard him or not. Her body was pressed flat against the table, with her wrists bound together before her with black hose, and bound tightly as well to the far table legs to either side of her. Her head was flat against the table, turned to the side, with her hair again disheveled and falling across her face, obscuring her vision.

His daughter was a captured angel, bound and displayed for him and offered to him, to be used however and whenever he wished. He was her father. He knew better. He was ready to violate an inviolable trust, and bond, and responsibility. But he wanted her too badly now to resist, and her desire for him was undeniable.

* * *

Amy hadn't heard her father enter, so the shock was thrilling when she heard him unbuckle his belt and unzip his zipper right behind her. She fought the urge to twist back to look at him. Instead she enjoyed the thought of him having been there for she didn't know how long, admiring her and lusting after her.

He had to take her now, tonight. He just had to. Now man would ever feel like he would inside her. She never wanted another man, she'd never trust another man inside her, once she'd given herself to her father.

Amy was thinking this, while trembling with fear and anticipation, when she unexpectedly felt his stiff, hot cock brush against the left side of her ass cheek. She couldn't entirely stop the squeal that rushed out of her mouth. She cut it off by biting her lip as her daddy gently brushed his cock across her entire ass, from side to side, as if tickling her gently with a huge, hot, hard feather.

That torment lasted only a moment before he settled his long cock into the crack of her ass. Once there, it slipped forward and back, smoothly dry fucking her. She eagerly clenched her ass cheeks together, trying to squeeze and hold him and pleasure him as much as she could. He was so close. The perfect, most desirable cock, the only cock she ever wanted to feel inside her, was so close.

For fun, she taunted him again.

"Don't fuck me, Daddy. Please don't fuck me. Not your little girl. Not with my daddy's cock."

In response, he pressed his cock hard against her. She felt his hard stomach muscles and hips crushing her ass, with the pressure of his flaming cock between them. It felt massive now, bigger than it had ever looked. She knew it was her imagination, but in her head she saw her father's cock as the biggest, most desirable thing she'd ever seen.

"You little slut, Princess. You want it. You're not fooling anyone. You desperately want to feel your father's cock inside you."

"No, Daddy, no I don't. Please, please let me go. Please don't fuck me."

He laughed at her again, as he took his cock away. Amy gripped the edge of the table, waiting for long, agonizing moments without his touch, or even a sound. She felt as if she'd been abandoned.

His cock touched her again, on the outside of her right hip. From there, he slid it gently down her leg, stroking her. He moved it again, to the inside of her right thigh up just below her burning cunt. She thought about how wet she was. She thought about how close his cock was to entering her, when he slipped it down the inside of her leg, and then the contact was gone.

Amy moaned loudly in disappointment.

"So you want me to leave you alone?" her father asked. His voice was hard and angry.

"No," Amy said reflexively, then caught herself. "Yes, yes, leave me alone, Daddy. Don't make me fuck you. Don't make me feel my father's sinful cock anymore."

In mid sentence, Amy felt her father's tongue touch the folds of skin that covered her clitoris. She wailed at the sudden, unexpected sensation.

* * *

After that one, quick flick, Don hesitated a moment, there on his knees behind her. He heard his own voice in his mind, wicked, teasing words that he would have had a hard time saying to any woman, let alone his perfect, innocent daughter. This was insane. He shouldn't be doing any of this. And yet the lust he felt, the burning, irresistible drive to be a man for this beautiful young woman, it pushed him beyond his sense of obligation and reason.

He paused to study his daughter's beautiful, irresistible slit up close. He looked at her bulging vulva, with cunt lips that curled like waves, spread invitingly to reveal the wet, pink heaven beneath them.

Still pushing down his reluctance, he slipped his tongue in, just the very tip, letting it taste her, before tracing the length of her slit down, from the end closest to her anus toward her clitoris. Once there, his tongue artfully separated the folds of skin until it found the button of her clitoris, where it swirled and tickled and tormented her. Amy immediately began to squeal and whimper at his tongue's forays, and he couldn't stop himself from grinning into her sweet tasting cunt.

"Oh, Daddy. Oh, Daddy, darling Daddy, sweet, darling Daddy."

That was the beginning of a long, barely changing song from Amy, a high pitched, squealing, chorus of love and lust and longing for her father. It drove any thought of stopping out of his mind. She was his darling little girl, and he was giving her unimagined pleasure. It couldn't be that wrong. He'd done everything he could for her in his life. Surely he could do this to, for her. He could give her what she so clearly wanted.

Don took his time with her, as much time as he could bring himself to endure, as his cock screamed at him to do something completely different. Still, as long as she squealed and sang to him, he thought he could never stop.

* * *

Daddy's tongue was like a wicked sorcerer's wand, magically sucking Amy's life and soul out of her body through her clitoris. Her father's tongue was like nothing she'd ever felt, and her passion increased ten fold with that thought. Her father was enjoying her cunt, and pleasing her, like no other man ever could or would. She was a woman to him, now. The thought warmed her in unimagined ways. She was a woman. He was a man, enjoying her as a woman. Daddy loved her the way only he, of all men, could.

Amy felt herself drawing closer and closer to orgasm. She knew it could come at any moment, that she was losing control and that when it hit her, when she was pushed over the edge, she was going to lose her mind. As delightful as it was, before that happened she needed something else from him, something more. It was so hard to trust a man, to let him inside of her, but it was easy with him. She could so easily give herself to her daddy.

"Fuck me now, Daddy. Please, please, dear father, darling father, fuck me now. Teach your little girl to love your cock now. Teach my cunt to love your cock like I love your tongue."

In response, Daddy drove his tongue deep into the crevice of her cunt. His tongue marauded through her, like an evil snake searching for something, hunting for something to devour, or to torture. For herself, Amy responded by driving her cunt back into his face and onto his tongue. She could move a lot, despite the bonds, and she took advantage of that bit of freedom, grinding her ass and her cunt against her father's face with utterly wicked, sinful abandon.

And then he was gone.

Amy grabbed the edges of the table more tightly. She continued to rotate her ass, searching for him. Half of her wanted his talented tongue back on her aching clitoris. She was so close to orgasm, she felt that one more touch from him would send her mind spinning into space, never to return. Yet another part of her thought that now he would finally, gratefully, and perfectly enter her. Now he was going to fuck her, to fill her with himself.

She listened in frightful disappointment as he walked around the table. Amy opened her eyes to admire his hard muscled, athletic body as he moved. He didn't look fifty-five to her. He slipped along with the grace of a lion, and with the same obvious, strong rippling movements of his sinews. She admired the folds between his abdominal muscles, and the dramatic, powerful "v" shape of his frame where it spread up from his strong thighs and hips to broad, rounded shoulders and arms above a chest accented with more taught muscles.

Then he stood before her. Right before her eyes, just inches from her extended arms and hands, his cock hovered, her father's cock, the cock she'd longed for and dreamed of for months now. It was right there, just out of reach.

* * *

"Is this what you want, Princess?" he asked her.

Don stared at her face, almost immobilized by the look of total, unrestrained lust in his daughter's eyes. She stared at his cock the same way, unable to take her eyes off of it.

"Answer me. Is this what you want?" he demanded.

She glanced up at him then, briefly, only to quickly bring her smoldering gaze back down to his cock.

"Yes," she whispered. She looked up at him again, a little frightened, like a child looking to a teacher for praise, to see if she'd answered correctly.

"Yes," she repeated, more firmly. "That's what I want. My father's sweet cock."

Don eased himself forward, guiding his cock into her bound, waiting hands. Her fingers quickly enveloped it, gently dancing over its taught skin with feather touches, just as he'd tormented her with his lips when she had been bound to the door.