Away From the Cameras

I hate adding notes but just in case: This is a complete work of fiction. Any similarities to people living or dead is completely coincidental.

*****

I sat on the sofa next to my mother watching the news while holding my five-year-old son, Clinton, thinking this would be one of the last times it would happen before I completely moved out after I got married in three days. For years it had been our ritual to catch the national evening broadcast as delivered by the man on the screen. Since I was eighteen, by the time the hour-long show was over, I was always wet with arousal.

Now in his mid-forties, the anchor had become well known as a reporter covering a hurricane early in his career. He leveraged the recognition into jobs subbing for other anchors on the network before getting his own show then was finally tapped to anchor the flagship news program. With a square jaw from which issued a deep, steady, calming voice, and steel blue eyes, he was classically handsome. If you looked closely, you could see that his straw colored hair was greying slightly at the temples. Despite his age, he had a solid body beneath his tailored suit that my mother and I knew well. She called him her husband, I called him dad and I often wondered if he still had the same effect on her as he did on me.

After the program was over, he arrived home just over an hour later and greeted us with hugs and kisses. We sat down and had a late dinner together as a family then I put Clinton down and retreated to my room to send some emails and call my fiance before going to bed.

The next morning while waiting for Clinton to wake, I went to the kitchen and saw my father at the table. He held a newspaper open in front of him—real paper, not an e-version—with his reading glasses perched on his nose. His thin lips were pressed together tightly. Most people saw it as a frown, but I knew it was just his serious, thinking face and that it could relax into a genuine smile at any moment. An empty bowl of oatmeal and mostly empty cup of cold coffee were on the table in front of him. In the sink I saw another set of dirty dishes that must have been used by my mom. I poured a bowl of cereal and glass of juice for myself and a new cup of coffee for him before going to the table. We didn't say much beyond greeting each other while I ate. He, as usual, was focused on reading about the previous day's events and the commentary from the print journalists.

After I cleared our dishes I checked on Clinton who had always been a late sleeper then returned to my dad. I removed his hand that was closest to me from the paper so I could sit across his legs.

"Good morning, princess," he said with a smile as his free hand rested on my bare leg and the thumb began tracing lazy patterns on my skin.

"Morning, Daddy," I said. With a shy smile, I leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the lips. "Mom already leave?"

He released the paper from his other hand and moved it to my back. "She did. She said she had to run an errand before meeting you at the dress shop."

I was only wearing a pair of men's boxers—one of the many stolen from him—and a bra and his hands were hot on my skin. Hearing my mom was gone, I leaned into him and again touched his lips with mine. This time our kiss was deep and passionate. His tongue easily conquered mine and I moaned against him. My hand moved to the boxers he was wearing and found the slit of his fly. I pushed the fingers of one hand inside and felt his flesh already stiffening as I pulled it out into the open to stroke while my other hand moved across his bare chest. A decent forest of greying blonde hair covered it and I loved the soft yet scratchy feel of it. Beneath the hair was a broad chest that had been tighter a few years ago but was still nice to look at.

While I was doing that, I felt a pair of his long, thick fingers slide into the fly of my shorts and unerringly find my slit. With gentle determination, he pushed them inside me and pressed his palm against my hidden nub. He immediately began to finger fuck me with a lazy rhythm as he said, "You're going to be late and you know how your mother gets."

I sighed heavily against his lips. "I know. But I have just enough time to thank you for watching Clinton while we're out."

"You don't have to thank me. I'm happy to do it. I don't get to spend enough time with the rug rat." His tone was simultaneously paternal and teasing.

"I know, but it's also been a while since we've had some time alone." Even I heard the needy tone in my voice.

"But you know that's not what we agreed to," he said even as he continued to work his fingers inside me.

"I know," I said with disappointment. After starting college a year late due to the pregnancy then failing my morning class my first semester, my mother had gone ballistic. She did not understand why I kept missing class or why my father had not helped me with Clinton since he was home at the time. He and I had then talked and agreed that we had to be smarter about our encounters. Ever since, we managed our time better. And with my impending wedding that upcoming weekend, we seriously dialed everything back as family and friends appeared without warning. "You're right."

We sat in silence for a moment. His fingers continued to move through me while mine stroked him and we shared a few more quick kisses.

"Promise me that if I give in this time, you won't try this again," he said seriously. "At least not until after the wedding."

"I won't," I said quickly. "I promise."

A corner of his mouth lifted. "Liar."

My father watched intently as I stood to lower my shorts before I straddled his lap facing him. His lips parted slightly as he sucked in a breath and I moaned as I sank onto his length sticking out of his shorts. As his thickness moved deeper into me, it reminded me of the first time he entered me...

It was a few days after my eighteenth birthday and I had just been dumped by a guy because I wouldn't put out. At the time I was a virgin and while I was eager to have sex, I wasn't into the guy enough for him to be my first.

"No more moping, baby girl," my father said as he entered my room and sat on the edge of the bed.

It was a Saturday morning, three days after the breakup and instead of hanging out with friends I was still sulking in bed.

"I'm not really upset because he dumped me," I said. "I'm upset with myself. I knew he was a jerk and that he was only dating me so he could try to have sex with me but I kept dating him anyway. It was stupid."

"I'm not going to argue with that," my dad said with a teasing smile. "But don't be too hard on yourself. Sadly, it's something you had to go through and you'll probably do it again. And he'll be even cuter next time. Dating is a learning process. That's what being a teenager is about."

I gave him a blank look. "Was that really supposed to make me feel better?"

"No," he said bluntly. "But it's the truth. It's also true that I'll always be here if you need me."

"With advice like that, I don't think I want you around."

He placed an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his side. "Too bad, you're stuck with me."

"Thanks." I wrapped my own arms around him truly thankful for his presence. As he often did in the mornings, he was only wearing a pair of boxers and my hands began to absently play with his thick chest hair. "Why can't all guys be like you?"

His hand began to stroke my side. "They're out there. It just takes a bit of looking to find them."

"I know. It just seems like I'll be a virgin forever."

"That's not a bad thing."

"I know." Unaware of what I was doing, my hand had slipped lower and was playing with the hair around his belly button. "And I know I shouldn't worry about what my friends think, it's just they're all talking about it and I feel left out."

I didn't feel awkward discussing sex with either of my parents because they were open and not judgmental about it with me. As they had with my older sister and brother, they had given me condoms and made sure I knew how to use them. I also had been given the option to start taking birth control pills, but because my periods were regular and because I had been dating that jerk with no intention of having sex anytime soon, I had declined figuring it was one less thing for me to worry about.

"When the time is right, the right guy will come along."

I took a deep breath and sighed. "I know it's weird to say, but I wish you were single and younger. You're the perfect guy, Daddy."

"I'm flattered, baby girl. You're so much like your mother that it'd have been difficult to choose between the two of you. And I guess I'd end up the jerk in this relationship because I probably would have dated you for a bit then married your mother."

I sat up and pulled away from him with a frown. "You'd have sex with me then dump me?"

He shrugged. "Not right away. But yeah. Look at you. You're a smart, beautiful girl and like most guys, I'd kill to have the chance to be your first. But I also know that I love your mother and would marry her all over again. So, yeah, I'd willingly be a jerk to have a chance with you. I think most guys would."

Without being conceited, I knew I was attractive so that was never an issue. Standing five feet nine inches tall, I had enough weight on my body to be curvy but not so much that I looked overweight. My breasts were smaller than I would've liked on my frame but nicely balanced the curves of my hips and ass. I had inherited my father's straw colored hair that hung to the middle of my back and my mother's green eyes which were set in her heart-shaped face. Unfortunately, I had also inherited my father's thin lips but none of my boyfriends had ever complained when we kissed so I kept that a private complaint.

"I guess that's okay," I said reluctantly. It made sense but part of me was hurt that even my father had openly admitted that he would fuck me then dump me.

"I would've made your first time great, though. At least that way you wouldn't feel like you had been used."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. It would've been all about you. You probably would've wanted to do it a few times after I finished. I don't talk about it, but before your mother I was quite the ladies' man."

I couldn't keep the skepticism out of my voice. My father was an attractive man and had been really cute in his younger days but because of his current clean cut image, I couldn't see him out on the prowl. "Really?"

"Chelsea, hon, forgive me for being crass, but there were enough women into me that I could practically fuck two different women every day for a month and never have the same one twice. It's not enough to have the tool, you have to know how to use it. Every woman that I've been with was never satisfied with one time and mourned the day I met your mother."

"Well I guess it's a good thing that never happened." I was slightly stunned by his words. While I knew there were women before my mother, it was out of character hearing him speak about them in this manner.

"If that makes you feel better," he said lightly. From the twinkle in his eyes I could tell he was back to teasing me. "You're a virgin. You have no idea how great sex can be. Especially with a guy who's packing. Sometimes all I'd have to do was whip it out and they'd fall to their knees."

Feeling he had taken things too far, I rolled my eyes. "Daddy! Now you're being ridiculous. And disgusting."

"Maybe. But it's true." He gave me a wink that seemed less than paternal and sent shivers through me.

"Whatever. Get out, you dirty old man."

He laughed and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Come on. Let's get something to eat."

Despite how our conversation ended, I felt better and followed him out of the room to have a late breakfast with him. I sat at the table and as he moved around the kitchen, I was surprised to find myself eyeing him. I had innocently watched him a number of times as he did things while not seeing anything except my father. However, that morning, I saw a very attractive man. His body, while not ripped and toned like guys my age, was solid. In a way, the slight softness under his skin accentuated his masculinity. His legs were thick and powerful yet his footfalls were soft as he moved gathering items for a light meal. Standing at the stove, his broad back flexed and shifted with untapped strength. When he bent over to grab something out of the refrigerator, I was taken by the way his ass filled out his shorts. However none of that matched the shock I received when he turned to bring me the quick meal he had prepared.

I was used to seeing him around the house in nothing but boxers and had never thought anything of it. After the conversation in my room, for the first time I noticed the way the thin fabric fell over his crotch. It became even more eye catching when he sat. Resting on the chair there was a noticeable mound between his legs that distended the fabric. And beyond that, just before the end of his shorts, stretched a thick tube that seemed on the verge of peeking out. I don't remember what we talked about while we ate but I will never forget that meal as being the moment I knew my father was the one.

While I knew nothing could ever happen between us, I found myself flirting with him and trying to spend as much time as possible with him. Instead of waking up late and grabbing a granola bar for breakfast as I ran out the door, I woke up early and sat at the table while he read his newspaper. He commented a few times on my joining him so early in the morning and each time I just put it up to needing to get used to it for college.

I was happy living in my fantasy world, thinking nothing would ever happen until I had a really bad date one Saturday night. The guy had been a jerk and barely half an hour in I was done but kept trying thinking it might get better. It didn't. Though I knew it wasn't my fault, when I finally did get back home, I spent the rest of the night and all of the next day moping and wondering what was wrong with me and why I couldn't attract decent guys.

That Monday was a school holiday and I had planned on doing some more moping, but my father dragged me downstairs to have breakfast with him. When I arrived, I saw he had already poured me a bowl of cereal and some juice. I stood for a moment thinking how sweet he was and what a great guy he really was and how much I wanted a guy like him.

With butterflies in my stomach and shaky legs, I walked over to where he sat. As I approached I saw him watch me with a curious look. When I drew up next to him, I lifted his head and leaned mine down to touch our lips together. It started out soft and tender then quickly progressed to be something a father and daughter should never share. With our lips joined, I moved to sit across his lap in a way that I had done many times over the years. Eventually we broke the kiss but leaned our foreheads against each other while catching our breath. Wondering if I would ever get this chance again, I was the first to speak.

"I want you to have sex with me, Dad. Please."

He sat silent and I began to wonder what he was thinking. Around the house his eyes had always been expressive yet this time I couldn't read anything in them. For a moment he had become the dispassionate anchor that I saw on TV and was not the father that I knew.

After a long, tense silence during which I began to acknowledge to myself the mistake I had made, he asked, "Are you sure, Princess? If I do, it's all going to be different afterward. We can never go back from this. And I don't mean just because you're not going to be a virgin anymore."

I took a deep breath. "I'm sure. Scared, but sure."

He gave me another kiss then pushed his breakfast setting out of the way before lifting me to sit on the table in front of him and removing my sleep shorts. Back in his chair, he leaned forward and tentatively began to explore the tight slit between my legs. His fingers lightly traced along the outside of my shaved, tight lips next to my thighs before moving them closer to the opening. He licked a large, thick finger which he lightly moved up and down the slit without pushing inside. After moving the finger back to his mouth to wet again, he repeated the movement, playing with my tight pussy lips. As he slowly stroked and pulled at the folds he moved his head between my legs. I felt his warm breath between my legs and a shiver coursed through my body. When his tongue darted out and quickly touched me, I let out a cry that was part surprise and part happiness that it was happening.

I bit my lips and stifled my sounds while watching intently as my father began to eat my pussy. His tongue and finger worked together making me feel things that I had never felt before while never penetrating me. Occasionally, he turned his eyes upward to meet mine which enhanced the arousal I felt. Either because of his expert work or the taboo nature of what we were doing—or most likely a combination of both—I soon found myself whimpering and shuddering from the first orgasm another person had ever given me. My body tightened and I closed my eyes and threw my head back as a pleasurable heat coursed through me. Through it all, I was remotely aware of my father continuing to gently lick and finger me through my climax and it served to prolong the experience.

After catching my breath, I turned my dazed, unfocused eyes to look at him where he was still playing between my legs. His eyes twinkled up at me and I smiled back weakly.

He pulled back and sat up straighter, keeping his fingers lazily working me. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Though I heard his words, I was focused on his mouth. There was wetness surrounding it like a shiny goatee and moustache and I found myself aroused by the sight of my pussy juices on my father's face. Though the idea had come to me only minutes before, I was certain this was the right thing to do. "I really am."

As he stood, he lowered his shorts and I saw his hard cock for the first time, and as he had said, it was huge. Since our conversation after my breakup and having noticed the way the bulge filled out his pants, I knew it was something impressive but I had not actually expected what was in front of me. It curved upward like a banana but was even thicker and was capped with a circumcised, blunt helmet that had an even thicker ridge around it. There were a few bumpy veins running along the length making it look very much like a muscle that had been regularly worked out, and its random twitching and bobbing solidified that thought. As I looked at it, a bead of wetness grew at the tip and I could see more of it smeared across one side of his crown. Though I was a virgin, I had seen a few dicks before but none were like this.

Seeing my apprehension, he said, "We don't have to if you don't think you're ready."

I tore my eyes away from my father's dick and looked up to see him watching me with concern. My eyes moved back and forth a few times trying to come to terms with everything. Not only had my father just eaten me out, but he was standing in front me displaying a hard cock that was easily twice the size of any that I had seen before. Even though I had been the one to make the request, he obviously had no qualms about putting it inside me, to deflower me as I had asked. After giving it a final look I realized his dick wasn't going to ever be smaller. If this was ever going to happen, it had to be now. Not attempting to keep the growing nervousness out of my voice, I responded, "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

My father took a deep breath and stepped closer to me. I felt his cock touch between my legs, depositing some wetness on my skin, and it sent a shiver of anticipation through me. He said softly, "I wish I could say this is going to be easy, but it's going to hurt. Maybe a lot. Just breathe through it and try to relax. Okay?"