The water felt so good on my freshly shaven legs. It was almost too steamy, it almost scalded my delicate skin, but I enjoyed it a lot. I put my hand at my side, with my arm bent, and flicked at my bright pink nipple. It sort of hurt but in the most delicious way. I was thinking about what I normally thought about when I was alone: wild, romantic passion with a man with a killer body and piercing eyes. I could almost feel his firm chest smashing my breasts down. The hot water was really affecting my little clit. I imagined him touching me in the most exciting ways. He would grab me, stare into my eyes, and then have his way with me.
My eyes closed as more and more images of my fantasy man filled my head. He would have to be tall and muscular, I decided, so he could easily lift me and take me to his large bed. He would have to have full yet well-shaped lips. He would have to be, "Ah!" I gasped and immediately opened my eyes, startled. My hand was covering my mouth. I looked down at myself.
My skin was reddened from the water and being so turned on. My nipples were extremely hard. My other hand was now covering my clit, with its fingertips pressing into my little hole. My smooth, long legs were spread wide as if trying to make way for my imaginary lover.
A tear ran down my face. I knew who I was imagining. It was my father. I immediately drained the water, grabbed a towel, and ran to my bedroom.
I barely had my robe on when Daddy came in. I knew he was coming to make sure that I was in bed, as he normally did about this time of night. I was eighteen, and somewhere along the way I picked up the reputation of sneaking out.
"I knew you'd be here, you always are," he said, coming closer to me.
"Yes, I'm being good," I replied, trying to act natural.
"I know, and I really appreciate it." Then, he opened his arms for a hug. I accepted his offer and allowed his manly frame to embrace me. Even though it wasn't much longer than a typical hug, I could see where I was getting my ideas from. His strong chest was pushing through the clothing between us. His big hands were melting my back. I tried not to coo as I felt myself getting hotter and hotter. He adjusted his head and suddenly I sort of stumbled on myself. I could almost feel my heart sinking into Daddy's. At that moment, while deeply inhaing the musk his body had developed since his morning shower, I wanted him in every way. Releasing myself from his grasp, I moved towards my bed rather slowly.
He got the hint and made his way to the door. We sort of waved at each other with our subtle smiles. It seemed like an era passed while I was waiting for him to actually leave my bedroom. To this day I wonder why he hesitated.
The days went by as usual for the next few weeks, with the exception of my more frequent masturbation. Sometimes I would go into my father's bedroom and take several pairs of his pants, hoping he would decide to wear shorts the next day.
I know this may sound juvenile, but one of the things I had really grown to hate was Daddy's dating status. He liked to go to bars and meet women at the gym. My disapproval wasn't all due to jealousy, though. I saw him get cheated on and used over and over. And I absolutely despised the fact that I would see him at home Sunday through Thursday, while he was wearing his cotton houseclothes after work, and he'd dress up sexy for women who didn't even deserve him on weekends. Sometimes I would start my evening plans late just so I could see Daddy before he left for his outings.
Fortunately, Daddy's search for a girlfriend was not tremendously long. I suppose a fairly wealthy and very attractive, available man in his forties is considered a great catch for many divorced women out there. Her name was Carrie, and she was thirty-seven. She was a freckled woman with very curly auburn hair. I didn't really think she was that great or that bad, but I knew that Daddy seemed satisfied, and that was good enough for me.
Sometimes Carrie and Daddy would sneak into the house when they assumed I would be asleep. I'd turn off my light and go along with it for them, not wanting to spoil their fun. As you might have guessed, I enjoyed listening to Daddy make her orgasm over and over. I was especially fond of the noises that Daddy made: they weren't often, but they sure were special.
Once when I was going through Daddy's closet I found a pair of her sheer, bright blue bikini panties. I seized them and ran into my bedroom as if I had won a prize that I needed to protect. I smelled them and found a very delightful mixture of aromas. The woman's fragrance wasn't as good as mine, for she had had sex far more times and had more years on her than me, but still good. I even could smell a bit of Daddy's cum, how dirty! Daddy must have fucked Carrie at her home, and then Carrie put her panties back on and leaked Daddy's cum into her underwear! Then, they came back here for a change in atmosphere just to fuck again!
I inhaled deeply before pressing my tongue firmly against the crotch and pushing up. This was something I liked to do with my own panties when I was alone and bored, but it was much more exciting with a practical stranger's and my own father's sex on the fabric. I proceeded to trying the panties on. The first thing I noticed was that they felt the tiniest bit damp on the sides, which told me that she must have gotten quite sweaty during their foreplay, most likely. I was astounded by how well they fit me. My own pussy, which was seriously damp at this point, was actually oozing into Daddy's fuck remains! I pushed my hand between my legs and clamped my thighs tight around it. I imagined how bad Daddy would think I was if he knew all of the sick things I had been thinking for so long. Afterwards, figuring Daddy would find the panties and smell them for his own pleasure, I put them back on the top of the pile on his closet floor. I wonder if he could sense that something was a little different!
The weekend that changed it all followed the week that I had pranced around in a tiny pleated skirt and a babydoll t-shirt. Daddy saw me in my little get-up and said playfully, "Did you steal that outfit from some poor girl half your size?"
"Obviously not Daddy, I just thought it would be cute," and then I whipped out my red sucker. I worshipped it and giggled the whole time. I noticed Daddy paying less and less attention to his newspaper. "You like fun, don't you?"
He gave me his famous, devilish grin before redirecting his eyes to his paper. I couldn't believe that I wasn't as interesting as the local news. I flung my sucker out of my mouth and watched it land on the white carpet.
"The carpet!" Daddy was a bit of a weirdo about keeping his house in good quality.
"Oh, do you want me to get it?"
He rolled his eyes at me, "Yes, of course I want you to get it!" I smiled then, and I think he realized the significance of my outfit.
I crouched down and then got on my hands and knees. My breasts were peeping out of my low-cut shirt like puppies begging to be adopted. I could almost hear his heart cry out, his eyeballs sticking to my pert breasts. I grabbed the sucker and then looked up at him quickly, not giving him enough time to move his eyes from my weapons.
"Uhh," Daddy began, looking at the carpet. The sucker hadn't left the faintest mark on it. "You better get a towel and wipe it off, for good measure."
"Yes, Daddy." I didn't smile until I turned away. Now the ball was in my court. When I came back with the wet paper towels, I decided it was time to give him a better view of my perky, round butt and trim thighs. Though I couldn't see him, I knew that Daddy was inspecting every flare of my tiny skirt.
That Saturday I played it smart. I told Daddy that I'd be spending the night with friends. As expected, Daddy decided to have Carrie over for the entire night. With them not knowing I was there, I was able to do some serious spying.
He wined and dined her like a gentleman, but it didn't take long for things to get hot. While Carrie was still in her chair, in her knee-length dress, Daddy stradled her. He grabbed her neck like a villain and slurped away at her neck. I could almost feel her hickey forming on my neck. On the stairs, I pinched my neck so that I could pretend I was her.
Carrie's legs were trembling as Daddy reached down and stroked her knee. Watching intently, I stroked my knee as well. It was very hard not to stroke my clit, but I knew I had to be very careful.
"Carrie," Daddy said between sensuous, firm neck nibbles, "have you ever wanted to roleplay?"
"Mmm, sounds terrific, what did you have in mind?" Carrie purred.
"Well," I couldn't help but notice Daddy sliding his hand dangerously high, "you are about nine years younger than me, baby. You know, a lot of guys like to pretend to be, you know..."
