"Daddy, can I talk to you for a minute?"
Andrew closed the screen on his laptop, adjusted his clothes hastily, and spun his chair towards the bedroom door.
After one last check that nothing inappropriate was showing, he responded. "Of course, April. Come on in."
As his daughter entered the room, Andrew couldn't help but notice her outfit. Not that he was prudish, and he generally understood that modern fashion trends allowed for more form fitting and revealing attire. But the pink cropped tee-shirt that, while covering her pert, round breasts, left her well toned midriff bare, along with the matching yoga pants that conformed to every curve of her hips and legs, still made him feel like he shouldn't be seeing her this way. Especially after what he'd just been watching on his computer.
He quickly set those thoughts aside when he saw the concern on her face. "What's wrong, hun?"
April sat on the bed, struggling to face him. "I wanted to...oh, God, this is so hard..."
"You're not pregnant, are you???"
April laughed, her tension eased somewhat. "No, no, nothing like that. Sorry, I'm not trying to freak you out. Everything is okay, I'm okay, it's just...a little embarrassing to talk about, I guess."
"Well, unless you want your old man's blood pressure higher than it already is, I suggest you just spit it out. I'm your father. Whatever it is, I'll understand."
April nodded. Taking a deep breath, she began. "First, I wanted to say thank you for all your help and support with getting me into college. I know it hasn't been easy for you or Mom."
"Of course, hun. But you did most of the hard work; getting good enough grades for a full scholarship saved us a ton of money."
"Yeah, about that," April flushed. "I, um... okay, there's only one way to do this. I didn't get a FULL scholarship. Just a partial one. And I'm not working at the bookstore part time to help pay the other expenses."
Andrew was flabbergasted. "I don't understand. What are you telling me, April?"
April's face grew still redder as she confessed. "I am working, Dad. As a, well, a model. Online."
"A...model?"
"Yes. An ADULT model."
Andrew sat stone faced, stunned. "You mean PORN???"
"No, not exactly," said April, "I have an Only Fans account. Do you know what that is?"
Andrew knew, all too well. And he was intimately familiar with the kind of content the women there provided. "I've...heard of it."
April nodded. "I sell adult content there. Mostly just photos and ...videos."
"April, I...I have to know. Why? If you needed more money, you could have come to me! We could have figured it out, together. You didn't have to... sell yourself, sell your dignity, degrade yourself like that!"
"It's not degrading!" April snapped. "You and mom taught me sex shouldn't be seen as sinful or wrong! That women should be free and empowered to make their own choices with their bodies, and their lives!"
"Yes, but we didn't exactly expect you to become a porn star either! What if your mother finds out? Your grandparents? What about your future, when you're trying to get a job and..."
"Daddy, relax," April cut in. "I've gone through great lengths to protect my privacy. I never show my full face. I wear masks and wigs, even colored contacts. And I don't use my real name, of course. I made up a fake one. Anyone subscribed to my profile only knows me as 'Honey Bee.'"
Andrew felt like he'd been gut punched. "Did you say...'Honey Bee?'"
"Yes," April blushed. "I know, it's kinda silly. But you know I've been obsessed with them since I was a kid. It's why I'm studying to be an entomologist. I wanna help save the bees and our environment."
Andrew stood, almost knocking his chair over in his haste. "I need a minute."
Dashing from the room, he made it down the hall to the bathroom just in time to empty his breakfast into the bowl.
Splashing cold water on his face, he considered the pallid reflection looking back at him in the mirror.
"Honey Bee," he whispered. "My daughter is Honey Bee."
Andrew had been subscribed to the profile of the young woman he knew only by the name "Honey Bee" for the past eight months. Just After April had left for college.
How could he not have known? Sure, she wore disguises. But how could he not have recognized her eyes? Her nose? Her smile? Her full, red lips?
"Maybe because those lips were too busy wrapped around those big, rubber dildos she sucks in her videos," he thought, his gorge rising again.
Andrew splashed more water on his face, slurping down handfuls as he tried to steady himself enough to keep from collapsing in a hysterical heap to the floor.
He'd watched his own daughter, paid to watch her in fact, as she'd masturbated, simulated blowjobs on silicone cocks, fucked herself with them, bringing herself to moaning orgasms again and again in multiple videos.
He'd ejaculated, countless times, imagining her ruby red lips over his swollen cock, slurping and drooling, her beautiful eyes gazing up at him from behind her mask, filled with lust and desire as her silky sweet voice begged for his hot cum to splatter across her sweet face or empty deep into her eager throat.
He'd regularly jerked off watching her pound her tight, gorgeously plump pussy with a variety of sex toys, or frig herself frantically with her fingers while a vibrator buzzed away over her clit.
He'd drooled at the sight of her sticky white cream as it oozed from her pink hole like, well, ...honey.
But it was worse than that. Far worse.
Because he didn't just watch. He'd sent messages. Flirted. Sexted with her. Told her repeatedly how hot, how sexy she was, how hard she'd always made him.
He'd even showed her. Sent her tips to look at and rate pictures of his cock. Sent her a video clip of himself cumming to her image.
And she'd responded. Oh, how she'd responded. Telling him how much she loved it, how big and hard and beautiful it was. How she wanted to deep throat it until she gagged. How she wanted it inside her, filling her. FUCKING her.
"Thank God I never sent my face," he thought crazily.
It had been all in fun, of course. Nothing but a little harmless fantasy. A way to make up for the listless state of his real sex life, to satisfy the desires and cravings his wife no longer would. To make up for the utter lack of frequency, spontaneity, and excitement in their couplings.
His wife Carol never swallowed his cum, or took a load to her face with joy and lust in her eye, or rode his cock reverse cowgirl style with a rose gemmed buttplug up her ass while calling him "Daddy."
But "Honey Bee" did. She did that and so, so much more.
Her favorite sex toy simulated male orgasm, squirting reams of white goo on demand to splatter her face and lips. It wasn't real semen, but whatever it consisted of must have been edible, because she always slurped it up greedily.
He'd once paid her for a custom video of her performing on this toy, pretending to be his innocent, virgin daughter, asking "Daddy" to teach her about blowjobs. It was still his favorite video to watch, and he'd always time his own orgasm to sync with the perfectly acted look of shock and surprise on her face as the realistic phallus she'd been so enthusiastically sucking "suddenly" erupted it's load in her mouth, globs of fake spunk oozing from her lips to dribble messily down her chin as her eyes went wide with innocent confusion.
Then there was the time he'd purchased the twenty four hour "Girlfriend Experience." The package included multiple text messages and role-playing throughout the day, along with picture swapping and video clips of her going through her daily routine; showering, dressing, upskirt panty flashes while eating at a restaurant, trying on clothes at a store, peeing in a public restroom, and several masturbation clips. All while pretending to be his girlfriend, of course. And calling him by name when she came.
"Fuck," Andrew thought, again feeling panic grip him, "I gave her my first name!"
But it got worse. Because he'd also availed himself of yet another of her other premium services.
He'd purchased her worn panties. Her sexy, smelly, cream filled panties. Panties he'd paid her to wear for two days, to masturbate in, several times, filming herself while doing so. Panties she'd creamed in repeatedly while moaning his name, her adorable pink flower dripping nectar into the absorbent cotton garment.
Panties he'd sniffed while jerking his raging cock, inhaling her young, fresh scent over and over, licking her still moist cream from the damp gusset, savoring her musky flavor, watching the video of her rubbing herself while wearing them on a repeated loop while edging himself till he could take no more.
Panties he still kept, hidden away in a shoebox in his closet, sealed in a Ziplock baggie.
He'd given her a P.O. box for the mailing address, not wanting his wife to discover the package should they arrive before he got home from work. But it was still a local address.
"She...she can't KNOW, can she?"
Andrew played back every exchange they'd had in his head, trying to recall any possible slip ups that might have clued his daughter to the fact that one of her best customers was her own father.
"If she's figured it out, wouldn't she have said something?"
Perhaps not. Maybe she was too embarrassed. Or maybe her confession was her way of trying to put an end to it without outright telling him she knew.
