A Most Special Gift

Christine woke in the predawn glow and couldn't get back to sleep. It was Christmas morning, after all, she had a right to be excited. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling for awhile, letting her thoughts wander, and they wandered back to the night with Billy.

When he'd asked her out, she'd been thrilled, though she'd tried hard not to show it. Even though she was an eighteen year old senior, she wasn't exactly part of the most popular high school crowd. It took more than being a pretty girl. She felt she didn't have a right to expect one of the star football players to ask her on a date. Of course, when he did, she'd said yes. Only a fool would have said otherwise. She'd never expected to allow him to get as far as he did, though. Just thinking about his hands on her body, squeezing her breasts, rubbing between her legs, his lips on hers...it made her tingle like crazy. She slipped a hand under the covers as she thought about it, tugging up her nightgown so she could rub her pussy through her panties. She moaned softly as a delicious sexual sensation raced through her.

The most unexpected thing, of course, had been giving Billy a handjob. It wasn't her first, of course. It was what "good girls" did to keep their cherries intact. She just wasn't usually that forward. It had been their first date, after all. Maybe it was the holiday season, the fact that it was the Christmas break, and she had been caught up in the holiday excitement. She wasn't sure. The memory of his cock filling her hand made her fingers twitch. He'd been SO hard! God, how he'd moaned as he came! Christine moaned softly and dug her fingers into her pussy through the fabric of her panties, shivering as a mild orgasm rippled through her. Pulling her hand from beneath the covers, she lay there panting awhile before deciding to get up. If she kept laying there, she knew, she'd only masturbate again. Sometimes she thought she had to be the horniest eighteen year old girl on the planet.

Christine got up and padded barefoot down to the bathroom, passing her parent's bedroom along the way. She stopped to peek in, checking to see if they were awake. Mom was curled into a tight ball, as usual, as if trying to stay as far from Daddy as possible. Daddy, though, was on his back with one leg atop the covers, laying more toward the center of their king sized bed. Christine admired him in the dim light for a moment. He wasn't a traditionally handsome man, a little overweight, but he had always been her ideal of masculinity. She found herself comparing him to Billy, and it surprised her. Not that she hadn't had naughty thoughts about her Daddy before. He had starred in her sexual fantasies ever since she began masturbating. Nothing serious, of course, because after all there could never be anything between them. That was incest! Still...before, when she fantasized, it was always with the underlying knowledge that it was just a fantasy. After her experience with Billy, though, she found herself wondering if Daddy had ever thought about her in a sexual way before.

It wouldn't be uncommon or even that strange, she realized as she sat on the toilet to pee. She had read that it was natural for fathers to have sexual fantasies about their daughters. Just like it was natural for her to fantasize about him. "Does Daddy really think about me?" she asked herself aloud in a faint whisper. "Maybe he pretends it's me he's fucking when he's doing Mom!" The thought sent shivers through her. Saying it aloud seemed to give it power, to make it a more real possibility. She thought about the way she had seen him sleeping only minutes before. Or the way she had awakened that morning.

What if she hadn't been wearing panties? What if Daddy came into her bedroom, maybe to wake her for Christmas presents, and found her laying there asleep with her bare pussy exposed? The idea sent a shiver through her, and she couldn't help rubbing herself just a little. "No," she chastised herself, forcing her hand away from her crotch. Not here. Not where Mom might open the door and catch her. God forbid her prudish mother would discover that Christine masturbated! She doubted if her mother had ever touched herself intimately in her life.

She was headed back for her bedroom, intending to masturbate again, but something made her stop by her parents' door again. She couldn't explain why, but it felt as if there was magic in the air. There always was on Christmas morning. It was just another day on the calendar, when it came down to it, and her family wasn't particularly religious. But you didn't have to believe in all that baby Jesus stuff to feel that the day was somehow special. Most of the world was waking up that morning with expectations of joy, family bonding, peace, and love. When that many people all concentrated on the same thing, there had to be magic in it. Right?

Carefully, she peeked into her parents' bedroom again. Neither of them had changed position. Christine tiptoed into the room before she thought about what she was doing. Standing beside the bed, looking down at her handsome father, her pussy tingled even more. Unable to resist, she gently peeled the cover off the man in front of her. She gasped at what she saw and quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. Daddy slept on, unaware that his oldest daughter was now staring at the tent his morning wood was making in his pajama pants.

It looked huge! At least compared to Billy's, or any other cock she'd seen before. She reached out, numb, watching his face carefully, and laid her hand atop his bulge. Gently, she squeezed it. She couldn't believe she was doing that, touching her own father's cock, even if it was through his pants! It throbbed a little in her grip. He stirred and she let go quickly. He half turned toward her and his eyes slitted open.

Terrified, Christine decided to brazen it out and smiled brightly at him. "Merry Christmas, Daddy!" she whispered. "It's morning!"

Daddy frowned slightly and lifted his head so he could see the window. Dawn was just starting to color the sky outside. Then he smiled. "Can't wait, eh, Pumpkin?" he whispered.

She giggled with relief. He wasn't aware that she'd just groped him. Giddy, she smiled broadly at him, and he took that as his answer. "Has your mother been up?" he asked.

"Not yet," she answered. Sometimes Mom got up in the wee hours, claiming she couldn't sleep, and spent time on Facebook or doing only God knew what on the computer. Christine got angry sometimes that her father never seemed curious about what Mom was doing. Then again, her mother was such a prude that Christine doubted the woman would cheat on her husband.

Daddy turned to look over his shoulder at his wife. The woman snored as if in response. Looking back at his daughter, he told her, "I think it's too early to get up right now. Go back to bed for a little while."

"You don't want to get up and spend some time with me?" she tried.

The smile on his face grew a little, making her feel elated. "It's good to see you smile, Christie," he said. "You've been kinda down lately, you know?"

Christine felt herself blushing slightly. "I know, Daddy," she said. "But it's Christmas. Can't be down on Christmas. Right?"

"I guess I could go ahead and get up," he said, starting to peel back the covers.

"Or I could crawl in with you," she blurted. Her heart seized up for a moment at her own brashness. Her father seemed a little surprised too. Mustering up every ounce of courage she had, and not really knowing why she was saying it, she said, "We could cuddle for awhile. Like we used to when I was little. That'd be great. You know, like we used to do on Christmas mornings."

He stared at her for a moment. "You're not a little girl anymore, Christie," he said. Even in the dark, she could tell that his eyes had traveled down to her chest. The tingle in her pussy intensified. Her nipples were stiff, and she wondered if he could tell in the dim light. She'd caught Daddy looking at her tits before, but all boys did that and she wasn't offended. This time...it felt different. She WANTED him to look, wanted to lift her gown and show him how perfect his little girl's tits were.

"Please, Daddy?" she pleaded.

He looked over at her mother again. The woman had rolled onto her chest, still facing away from them, and was breathing deep and slow. She'd always been a sound sleeper. "Well," he said, and she knew he was going to agree. Her blood raced and she began to tremble slightly. "The bed isn't that large, you know."

She almost suggested he come to her room and cuddle in HER bed. Then he was scooting over, making room for her. "Just for a few minutes," he said.

This was unexpected. Christine wasn't following a plan, just instinct, and at the same time she was at war with herself. True, she was strongly attracted to her father, but she didn't believe he was the kind of man who would molest his daughter. He'd never shown signs of it in the past. So on that hand she was safe. On the other hand, she was pretty sure she WANTED something to happen, and that disturbed her. All the same, she crawled carefully onto the mattress. Daddy put his arms around her, and she felt safe and secure in his embrace, snuggling closer to his chest happily as he pulled the covers over them both. He kissed her forehead softly. Christine angled her face up so that they could see each other's eyes, and she wondered what he would do if she kissed his lips.

But no, she couldn't! She snuggled a bit closer and lay her cheek on his shoulder. Daddy squeezed her tightly and they settled down awkwardly. No, not awkward at all. It felt perfect. So much better than when they'd snuggled back when she as just a little girl. He was warm, his body inviting.

There had been a girl at school the year before, the not-so-bright kind repeating her senior year while barely managing to stay out of trouble, who was rumored to have slept with her father. The rumors would have been devastating to her reputation if she'd had a good one to start with. Christine had heard the rumors and been disgusted, but back then she'd thought that the nineteen year old girl's father must have forced himself on her. But what if that wasn't true? What if she'd been willing, if it had been a loving and consensual relationship. Christine hugged her Daddy a little tighter and wondered what that would be like. The girl had changed, that was certain. She stopped wearing black all the time, actually started taking care of her appearance. Her grades improved, Christine knew, because she'd overheard some teachers talking about the "remarkable change" in her. What if her incestuous relationship with her father was responsible for that?

True, her Daddy wasn't what her girlfriends would call a "hunk." He was handsome enough, they all said that, but Daddy was chubby, he didn't like sports, he didn't dress fashionably, he drove a beat-up truck...there were many reasons why he wasn't an ideal object of an eighteen year old girl's desires. And plenty of reasons why she SHOULD desire him, too. He was intelligent, kind, loving, gentle...and he had the most amazing eyes. Eyes she could easily get lost in. It wasn't a huge surprise to realized she had a major crush on her own father, not just a strange sexual attraction.

He had drifted off to sleep. She stared at him for awhile, studying his face, memorizing the feel of his body against hers. The tingle in her pussy grew until she felt she simply had to touch herself or she would explode. Moving carefully so as not to awaken her father, Christine rotated inside his embrace until her back was to him. He snorted in his sleep, tightening his embrace around her torso, hugging her to him. She shivered in delight. Then, slowly, she hiked up the front of her gown until her panties were exposed. She wondered what Daddy would think if he found her this way. Panties exposed, her hand inside them. Would he be tempted to touch her? She caressed her own thigh, pretending it was Daddy's hand, that he had found her asleep and exposed, and that he couldn't resist touching her. She put one hand on his arm, the one across her chest, just to feel his warmth, his skin, his masculinity. The other hand burrowed into her crotch.

God! That felt good! She was already wet, she discovered. Her panties were damp! She pushed her gown up some more so that she could slide her hand into the top of her panties. She had shaved off her pubes on a whim a month before, and it had felt so nice that she'd continued shaving her crotch. The feel of her panties on her hairless quim excited her daily. So her hand slid over bald pussylips, her finger splitting her open, finding her clit first and then sliding into her hole. She almost moaned. This was the most exciting and dangerous thing she'd ever done. Masturbating in her parents' bed! Fingerfucking herself while her father hugged her!

He shifted a little in his sleep, snuggling closer, and she froze. Not for fear of getting caught, though. She was almost ready for him to catch her, ready to find out what he would do. No, she froze because he was still erect and now that erection was pressing into her panties. Slowly, she moved her hand from his arm. She passed it over her hip, reaching back until she touched his. She caressed her father's hip and then clutched it gently, trying to pull him closer. He snorted in his sleep and complied, pressing himself to her hard, driving his erection up through her buttcheeks. She gasped. "Mmm," he murmured, nuzzling her hair.

Did he know who he was grinding against? Was he dreaming of Mom? Or some woman from the office? What would he think if he knew he was humping his own daughter? Because that was exactly what he began to do. His hips moved slowly but deliberately, grinding his erection into her. Christine was beside herself. If anyone from school ever found out about this, she'd be so embarrassed she would die. On the other hand, she couldn't imagine being more turned on than she was in that moment! Her hand clutched his hip rhythmically, urging him on. Her other hand massaged her pussy.

She wasn't sure later what came over her. It wasn't a rational decision, to be sure. Letting go of his hip, she used both hands to begin working her panties down. She had to pull away from him, and his hip motion stopped. He must be extremely horny to be humping in his sleep like that, she thought. The panties arrived at her knees, she bent her legs and managed to wriggle the garment the rest of the way off. Once her feet were free, she dropped the panties onto the floor next to the bed. Now her bare ass was exposed to her father as she backed into him again. She reached back, pulled at his hip, and he obliged by moaning softly and grinding into her again.

Christine wasn't sure what she had hoped to get out of it. Just knowing she was exposed to him like that was an incredible thrill. Lifting her leg, she draped it across his, spreading herself open. Her hand now had free reign over her pussy, and her own hips began to move as she fucked herself with a finger. He squeezed her and thrust tightly against her, shivering. She wondered if he might cum in his pajama pants. Instead, something else happened. She didn't hear the click of the snap on his pants, but it must have come open during his thrusting. As he rotated his hips against her bare butt, she felt something warm poke her. Not cloth. His flesh was touching her, and after less than a minute, she realized it was his cock. His fly had come open and his cock had worked its way to freedom. He moaned softly as his full length slid up between the hot flesh of her asscheeks.

She came suddenly. The orgasm wasn't powerful, tempered as it was by fear, but the excitement was too much for her. Her father's cock was touching her! This was no longer a theoretical debate in her head, it was really happening! Common sense told her to get up and leave, but instinct made her stay. Daddy ground his hips into her and his hand closed around one of her small breasts. She'd always been embarrassed by both her short stature and her tiny breasts, since no eighteen year old in her eyes should be only five feet tall with barely b-cups, but now, as she lay against her father and his hand touched her breast through her gown, as he naked cock slid through her equally naked asscheeks, she felt happy. This moment was perfect. She loved him, she wanted him.

His hand left her breast, left it with an ache for more, and slid over her tummy. She stiffened as she realized what he was reaching for. She had to stop him! But she didn't. Her hands wouldn't obey. Then his fingers were on her pussy and she lost all desire to resist. This was incest, it was wrong and immoral and she didn't care one damn bit. His fingers explored her naked wetness, delved deeper, a finger entered her. She moaned softly. Was this really happening?

He stopped moving suddenly. His head lifted. She looked over her shoulder into his wide eyes. "Christine...I...I..." He had awakened from what he thought was an erotic dream, obviously not the first he'd had about his lovely daughter, only to find it wasn't a dream at all. What had he done? Where were her panties? He felt his cock trapped between the deliciously soft cheeks of her little butt, felt the wetness of her pussy on his hand.

"Daddy, please," she whimpered.

Was she begging him to stop? Tentatively, he pushed his finger into her a little deeper and was rewarded by feeling her body stiffen, watching her jaw drop, her eyelids flutter, hearing her gasp. Groaning under his breath, he thrust against her, shivering at how wonderful her nakedness felt against his erection. She turned more, looked into his eyes. "Christine," he whispered her name. Then, on irresistible impulse, he kissed her. She returned the kiss with surprising hunger, thrusting her tongue into his mouth.

I'm kissing my Daddy! her brain screamed. His tongue was active, eager, and talented. The kiss alone nearly made her cum again. But no, she didn't want to cum that way. She knew what she wanted, and to hell with consequences. Breaking the kiss, she turned her back to him and bent at the hips, pulling her torso away from him. She reached between her legs, her hand shaking, and grasped his cock. He shuddered at her touch but said nothing until she had pulled his cock between her thighs and rubbed the head on her pussy.

"Christine...we can't," he said.

She ignored him. He wasn't pushing her away, and that meant he wanted it. She lodged the head of his cock at her opening and pushed her hips back at him. This was not how she envisioned her first fuck to be like. It was better. The moment was filled with passion, with love, and with need. He clutched at her as he felt her tight pussy swallowing his rod. The head popped into her and the rest followed easily. She pushed back, pulled forward, back again, over and over as she worked her own father's cock deep into her virgin pussy. Not a virgin anymore, she thought! Her butt came to rest against his groin and she knew she had ever inch of him inside her. He was much bigger than the hairbrush handle she normally used on herself. So thick that it hurt! But she didn't hesitate to start moving her hips, fucking herself on her own father.

This was incest. This was what she had thought of as disgusting. She had been wrong. It was wonderful! It was perfect love, perfect in every way. Daddy leaned into her, chest to her back, pushing one arm beneath her to come up in front and caress her breasts, while the other reached over her hip to her pussy and found her clit. How could Mom not love this man, not love having him inside her, when he was this wonderful? The sensation of being filled with cock for the first time in her life was overwhelming. His fingers strummed her clit and his cock touched her deeper inside than she thought existed, combining to bring her to a powerful orgasm, possibly the strongest she'd ever had. She cried out loudly before clamping her jaw shut. But right then she didn't care if Mom woke up and caught them. This was too wonderful.