Call Girl

SUMMARY: This is a complete work of fiction. This story is told from the male POV (aka "Dad"). After he inadvertently had sex with his daughter who was his "call girl", he has to face her once more over the holidays when she comes home from college. The tension is high before she even shows up. What will happen next?

All characters in this story are 18 or older.

DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction. Any character resemblances to real life personae are strictly coincidental. Copying, re-posting, storing (whether digitally or in print form) or redistribution of this material is prohibited.

STORY:

Chapter Two.

My nerves were fucking with me again. Have you ever experienced the sensation of feeling both dread and anticipation at the same time? Well, I have. At first, it was only dread. Right after I inadvertently had sex with my daughter a few months ago. You might have a hard time believing that it was an "accident" unless you know the whole story. For that, you should read the first chapter of this tale. But to summarize, I hired a call girl while I was away for business in New York back in September. That alone would have been enough to mess with my emotions, since I had never done anything like it before. To this day, I still don't understand what possessed me to go through with it. But when the girl showed up at my hotel, I was in for the shock of my life when I discovered that it was my daughter who called on my hotel room. My own flesh and blood.

And I fucked her. Maybe more accurately, she fucked me. But that didn't dissolve my own responsibility in the matter. I let it happen. And I enjoyed it immensely.

After I returned home, the dread slowly turned into apprehension as time drew closer to the upcoming holiday season when I knew I would see her again. And then it became anticipation. "Anticipation" for what, I honestly wasn't sure. I knew the incident had been a wild fluke. A one-time bout of dumb luck. Or maybe "luck" wasn't even the word to describe it, since I had been afflicted by a deep, profound worry ever since. The last thing my daughter said to me that day had found a permanent place in the back of my head. She had told me, "I wouldn't mind a repeat of this another time." Did she really mean that? I couldn't help but wonder. Would it happen again? Should I even let it? And to compound my crime, I still had her white, lacey panties she had tossed to me on her way out. They were hidden in the basement so my wife wouldn't find them. How on earth would I explain that?

Part of me wished the incident had never happened at all. (And I knew that was a lie, if only to myself.) But time had no room for petty wishes anyway. It had happened. I fucked my own daughter, and now I was about to spend the next week with her.

Part of my dread was because I was worried my wife would somehow find out. To state the obvious, I had not uttered one word about it to her. I was sure she didn't suspect. I both feared and assumed that my daughter would be discreet about it, too. I hoped that she was just as embarrassed about it as I was. Or at least that she had enough decorum to keep it to herself. I would die if my wife found out, and I was hoping that Bridget felt the same.

And so, Bridget was on her way home for Christmas. As I said, I was extremely apprehensive about facing her in the flesh. We had not been in contact since that night. A few times, I thought about texting her to talk about what happened, but I never mustered the courage. I just tucked the experience in the back of my mind and pretended my life was "normal" again. Except it wasn't. It was anything but.

I decided that anticipation combined with dread was not a very pleasant feeling. I wanted to see Bridget again. Desperately. But at the same time, I was scared out of my mind about the confrontation. How was she going to regard me when she saw me again? Was she going to act like nothing had happened? Was she going to hope that I wouldn't bring it up? Was she ashamed about it?

And most of all, did she think about it like I did? I longed for sleep, hoping that memories of that night would haunt my dreams. I conjured images during my waking hours, often zoning out and replaying the scene over and over in my head. The few times I made love to my wife since returning home, it was impossible not to fantasize about my daughter during the act.

The sound of a car door slamming made me blink myself back to the present. Where was I? Oh yeah. I was sitting in the living room of my own house. The place was decorated to the hilt for the holiday, with lights in every room and two fully decked out trees on display. My wife was to thank for all of that. The larger of the two trees was tucked into the corner of my living room, a few feet away from the fireplace. That's where I was sitting when I heard the unmistakable sound of crunching snow outside as someone came up to the house.

There was a short, half hallway that ran right next to the living room, giving a full view of the front door from the couch where I sat. Automatically, I hopped up from my seat and walked to the door just as my wife, Megan, scurried up to it before me and opened it. My breath caught as I gazed outside.

There she stood in the doorway, as beautiful as ever. Bridget smiled at me, seemingly sheepish. Her long blonde hair looked matted and tousled from her trip, but it was still gorgeous on her young-looking face. My god, she was an angel. My mind conjured up images of her with long, silky black hair and I had to suppress a shiver. In my pants, I felt my cock stirring as arousal flooded into it. Not now! Megan squealed and launched herself at our daughter while I tried to shake off the instant-erection that was threatening to tent my pants.

Clearing my throat, I reached out and took hold of my daughter's suitcase. Our hands brushed briefly in the exchange and I saw her eyes flit toward me over her mom's shoulder. I swear I felt an electric zing where our skin connected. For a second, our eyes locked. I would give anything to know what she was thinking at that moment. But she just mouthed a polite thank you and then pulled away from her mom's embrace, shaking the snow from her hair.

As much as I wanted to, I suddenly felt nervous about giving my daughter a hug. I was semi-aroused already, and I didn't know how my body would react at the close physical contact with her. But I had the excuse of holding onto her suitcase handle to cover for the oddity. Bridget strode past me and went immediately into the living room where she slowly stripped out of her winter jacket and scarf while standing before the fire, rubbing her hands to stave away the chill.

Megan took Bridget's clothes, hugging them to her chest as she stood in front of her. "How was the semester, dear?" my wife asked cheerily.

My daughter glanced at me over my wife's shoulder and then focused on her mother as she said, "It was surprisingly satisfying, to be honest." Was that comment full of innuendo? Something caught in my throat and I coughed, but fortunately only once. All I could think about was how my cock had felt when it was stuffed in the young girl's pussy.

And so the evening began. It was Christmas Eve, so the three of us enjoyed a nice meal of glazed ham, sweet potatoes, ambrosia salad, French bread, egg nogg and two bottles of wine. My daughter wasn't twenty-one yet, but I certainly didn't mind that she partook along with Megan and myself. The three of us made small talk as the evening progressed. It was difficult for me to concentrate, so I let my wife do most of the talking. Eventually, while the two girls cleaned the dishes after dinner, I made my way down to my bedroom and changed into my holiday pajamas, which consisted of a pair of soft, baggy pants and a long-sleeved shirt. After changing, I made my way back to the living room where I started adding wood to the fire that had died down during dinner. The room started to heat up again by the time my wife and daughter walked in.

I sat quietly in my usual chair while the two girls faced each other on the couch. Megan was grilling our daughter about her social life, inquiring about any boyfriends (or girlfriends, she added as an afterthought). Bridget gave only noncommittal answers. Several times as the night bore on, I caught my daughter glancing my way. Was it just me, or did her looks have meaning behind them? I couldn't help but start to wonder how many guys she had slept with, given her "line of work". Oddly, it didn't upset me at all. If anything, it started to make me feel squeamishly aroused. My mind replayed the night in my hotel room over and over, despite trying to push the imagery away.

Both girls stood suddenly and I blinked. Megan announced that she was heading to bed and Bridget echoed her. My wife left first and I found myself staring hungrily at my daughter's gorgeous body as she stood across the room. Her eyes were orange as the fire reflected in them. She was staring at me with an intensity that made my cock throb. I was completely immobilized, as if I was glued to my chair. A smile flashed across Bridget's lips and then she spun on her heel and strode from the room, walking out of sight down the hall toward the bedrooms.

A few minutes later, I heard the familiar squeak of the shower faucet being turned on. For some reason, that noise seemed to release me from my paralysis. Standing, I started tossing more wood on the fire. I wasn't ready for bed just yet. For the next forty-five minutes, I stood before the fireplace, adding wood and stoking the fire to a scorching blaze. My thoughts raced and I felt completely lost. I was swimming in an ocean of taboo desire, lusting after my own daughter. Oddly, I found myself going back and forth about which hair color I liked better on her. Holding a log in my hands, I watched as the flames grew so intense, they almost started licking their way out of the front side of the fireplace. Satisfied, I set the log back on the rack. A bead of sweat rolled down my cheek. It was stifling in the living room.

The floor creaked and I turned my head slowly in the direction of the sound. Standing in the threshold of the living room doorway was a black-haired angel made flesh. My jaw went slack. Bridget had dolled herself up, much like how she had come to me in my hotel. She wore the familiar long, black silky hair that looked uncannily real. Somehow she had lengthened her eyelashes again, and her cheeks were covered in subtle hints of makeup. Also like last time, she had omitted wearing any lipstick. Blinking, I found myself taking in her outfit. She was wearing a red leotard in elfish holiday fashion. It ended at her crotch, wrapping underneath and around her back. The top was cut out in a V lined with white wool, exposing her breasts which seemed to be showing considerable cleavage despite their petite size. A black belt was wrapped around her stomach, with a big silver buckle in the middle. On her legs, she wore knee-high candy cane stockings, her upper thighs bare.

Swallowing a heavy lump in my throat, I was out of breath by the time I looked at her face again. She had a knowing smirk on her lips, her head cocked just so as she stared at me. The orange glow from the fire reflected off her eyes again, adding to the seductive scene. The fire raged a few feet from me, bathing me in warmth. More sweat was dripping down my face as I stared with open arousal at my daughter. Unable to move, I watched as she slowly walked toward me. Her hips swayed with each step, making me feel like I was caught in the mesmerizing song of a snake charmer's reed pipe.

Bridget continued forward until she was less than a foot away from me before stopping. Her eyes had followed mine the entire time. Her head was tilted back slightly as she gazed up at me. Then she said in a breathy voice, "Hi daddy."

"Bridget," I whispered her name. It was all I could say or do in that moment. My eyes kept betraying me and sliding down her body, taking in every curve. The sexy elf costume hugged her tightly, accentuating each and every bend, crevice and--I gasped. From my angle, it was just barely visible, but her walk had drawn the crotch area of her outfit even tighter, putting the gentle slopes of her pussy lips on display as they poked through the fabric.

Pleasure exploded in my own crotch and I gasped again, tilting my head to look down my body. "Is this for me?" my daughter whispered seductively as her hand wrapped around my rigid cock through my pajamas. I hadn't noticed myself getting hard, but clearly she had. Unable to do anything but stand there, I watched as Bridget started to rub the length of my pole right there in the living room of my house. With her mom just down the hall in bed.

The air felt thick suddenly. Sweat continued to drip down my face. My mind raced, screaming at me to step away from the girl. We were going to get caught! But the material of my pajama bottoms was too thin to offer any kind of protection from my daughter's sexual onslaught. I was completely immobilized. Within seconds of her gentle fondling of my cock, I could no longer breathe.

"Jesus Bridget," I somehow managed to get out.

Without warning, my daughter slid both hands to my hips and tucked her fingers inside the edge of my waistband. Then, with a quick seductive glance up toward my face, she dropped down to her knees, tugging my pajamas down with her. My cock sprang free, bouncing before her. I stared at her, wide-eyed, watching her watching my cock. She licked her lips, her eyes still glowing orange from the fireplace. Then she dove forward, mouth open wide, and took the entirety of my erection into her mouth.

"FUCK!" I cursed loudly. But there was nothing for it. There was no way I could make her stop, even if I heard Megan walking down the hall.

Bridget pulled her face back, then launched herself forward. She had her hands on my hips again, steadying herself. I stared down at her with rapture as she blew me. Her black hair was splayed out behind her, flailing around with each thrust of her face. Her legs were bent at the knees, sticking out behind her, and covered with candy cane stripes. Somehow the stockings made the whole scene even hotter in my head. Forward and back, my daughter took me into her mouth. I felt her tongue dancing along the bottom edge of my staff, licking and lapping while her lips created the beautiful sensation of penetration.

I started to sway, so I put my hands on her shoulders to keep myself upright. My god this felt amazing. Bridget was noisily blowing me, pushing and pulling her face faster and faster. I felt the tip of my cock bumping the back of her throat with every forward lunge, but she didn't seem to be choking. My god she was good at giving head. Her hands gripped my hips harder and then she started moving even faster. I stared in awe as my cock disappeared inside the twenty-year-old's mouth over and over again. I realized she was moaning. This was turning her on. A lot. And that fact made me even more aroused.

A tingling explosion in the center of my cock made me tighten my grip on her shoulders. Fucking hell! My daughter was blowing me in the middle of my living room, and I was about fill her mouth with cum! Should I warn her? She clearly wanted me to do it, or she wouldn't be going at it so fervently. Right? I was breathing heavily, moaning and panting while Bridget continued to suck my cock me in front of the fireplace. The heat from the flames continued to emanate against the right side of my body. Beads of sweat were dripping from my jawline. My daughter's tongue suddenly pressed upward, hard, as she pushed herself forward again. I felt it slide along the length of my shaft, right past the tingling ball in the middle.

That did it.

"HUHHNNNNN--" I started to moan but choked on it instead when my daughter abruptly pushed hard against my thighs and I felt my penis exit her mouth in a rush. Gasping for sanity, my cock twitched and throbbed, bobbing in the open air. I couldn't catch my breath, so I just wheezed, sucking in as much air as I could before I needed to exhale again. My heart thrummed like a jackhammer in my chest. Blinking my eyes open, I stared down at my daughter.

Bridget was sitting on the backs of her heels, staring up at me with a mischievous grin on her face. Just like an elf would look. I found myself gazing down into the depths of her bosom. Orange light from the fire flickered against one of her breasts, while the other was shrouded in shadows. The contrast was alluring.

My daughter spoke softly just then, saying, "I can't decide, daddy."

Still trying to catch my breath, I gasped once more, then inhaled as deeply as I could before asking, "Can't decide what?"

Bridget stood slowly. She was several inches shorter than me, but she propped herself up on her tip toes so her face was mere inches from mine. Then she whispered, "If I want you to cum in my mouth or my pussy."

My mouth gaped in shock. At the same time, my cock literally felt like it was vibrating. The tickle of pleasure in the center of it started to swell, filling my shaft. It grew stronger as I stood there, unable to stave it off. My balls churned and I knew I was about to explode. "Bridget--" I croaked my daughter's name. Her words were an aphrodisiac to me. And they were naughty. So naughty! Especially coming from my own daughter.

Pain exploded in my cock and I let out a yelp. Something was squeezing my dick. Hard. Looking down, I saw that my daughter had her hand wrapped tightly around it, compressing it. The knuckles on her fingers were white and her arm was shaking. It hurt a lot. So much that I felt the pressure of my orgasm receding rapidly. Bridget let go of my penis and I gasped in several breaths of air, as if she had been choking me.

"Don't cum yet," she scolded, but her lips were smiling at me. Oh she was evil. A beautiful, naughty little devil-elf. "I still need you inside another part of me," she added, in the same playful tone. Then she hopped backward, landing quietly on the balls of her feet.

Feeling nervous suddenly, I glanced down the hall toward my bedroom, where Megan was asleep. At least, I hoped she was asleep. I hadn't exactly been quiet with my moaning. I didn't hear anything from that direction, so I put my attention back on my daughter. Her lips were glistening with saliva and her long eyelashes looked gorgeous on her. My cock was still rock hard, even though my orgasm had been driven off for the time being.

Bridget twisted one of her arms and grabbed hold of her elven leotard sleeve, tugging it down her shoulder. Then she proceeded to do a slow striptease right in front of me. All I could do was stare at her, mesmerized. And I was rock hard the entire time. When she had both arms free from her costume, she held them over her chest while she shimmied it down her torso. When she moved past her breasts, I gaped at them as they came into view. It had been three months since I had seen those beautiful specimens. But somehow, standing there in front of the fire, they seemed even sexier than the last time. My mouth began to water as I thought about suckling those nipples. But my attention was drawn ever downward as my daughter shimmied her leotard the rest of the way down her body. By the time she reached her crotch, she was bent over far enough that I couldn't quite see the treasure between her legs. I watched hungrily as she slid the outfit down her legs and then carefully stepped out of it.

My daughter left her candy cane stockings on and, when she straightened, I got another view of her nearly naked body in all of its perfection. My eyes drank her in, soaking up every curve. Even the way her skin folded in just slightly at the top of her hips where they connected with her upper body. Her belly was flat and unblemished. Her skin seemed to glisten. Was she wearing glitter? And that vagina was beyond comparison. I had been with several women in my life, before I got married. And each and every one of their pussies had been different, yet similar at the same time. Not so with Bridget's mound. Hers was one of a kind. Her lips were pressed together and the pink flesh within was hidden from view, almost completely. All I could see was pair of creamy white hills, broken in the middle by a thin line. I shivered as I thought about tasting her.