I didn't become attracted to my daughter until shortly after her eighteenth birthday. It wasn't an attraction that I fought for years, either, telling myself that I had to wait until she was old enough before I began to lust for her. Becky was simply my daughter and, in spite of her stunning beauty, I had absolutely no desire for her as a lover. I don't believe the idea of making love to her ever came to mind. In fact, the only thoughts I had were the normal concerns of every father for his little girl: the pack of young boys who would eventually show up on my doorstep one day.
Becky is short at five-feet, five inches, but her slender build makes her legs appear much longer than they really are. Her ass is petite and well rounded, her breasts small and firm. She has long, straight black hair that frames a delicate, narrow face, with deep, green eyes and a sexy, sensuous mouth. Her hands and feet are petite, smooth and very sexy. My daughter is quite a stunning package.
Last month I was watching television one Wednesday evening and, as usual, nothing good was on. After surfing through all of the cable channels twice, flipping through old magazines and rereading the day's newspaper, I stood up and walked into the hall. My wife was out with some friends but Becky was in her room. I tapped lightly on the door and pushed it open a few inches.
"Hi, daddy!"
"Hi, baby. Can I come in?"
"Sure."
My daughter was sitting on her bed and holding one foot while she applied nail polish to her toenails. I saw that she had finished with one foot and had just begun the big toe of the other. The bright red polish contrasted well with the soft, pale skin of her perfect feet, and she worked slowly to make the end result spectacular. Judging from the one she had finished, she was doing a flawless job.
"This is such a pain," she grumped. "Just be glad you don't have to paint your nails, daddy."
"Yes, what a joy," I conceded easily.
"I mean, it makes my hands and feet look nice, but it's just a pain in the butt."
"Then why do it?" I asked.
"Oh that would be gross!" she said, scrunching her face into an expression of disgust. "Unpainted nails look awful!"
"Ok."
The issue of painted nails versus unpainted nails was a debate I did not want to get into. So I said nothing and watched Becky attend to her dainty toes. Yet, as I watched, I could easily see that painting one's nails would certainly be a chore and I was suddenly glad that I didn't have to do it on a regular basis.
"Will you do me a favor, daddy?" she asked in that little girl voice she sometimes used on me when she wanted something but was afraid the answer would be a quick no.
"Ah, well, if I can," I said slowly, already suspicious.
"Finish this foot. Please?"
"Baby, I'm afraid I would really gum up the works," I chuckled. "I doubt you would be pleased with my efforts."
"Please, daddy?" she asked again, canting her pretty head to one side and giving me that lost little girl look she sometimes gave to get her way. And normally it worked.
"Oh, hell, why not?"
"Thank you, daddy! I'm so tired of this."
Becky handed me the brush applicator and gave me instructions on how to paint her nails and get the most pleasing results. She assured me that she would watch and make sure I did it right. With a sigh, I took her left foot in one hand and began to carefully apply the polish.
It was then that I began to notice my daughter – really notice her. I have been an avid admirer of women's feet, especially feet as dainty and flawless as Becky's, for many years. The pink sole was soft in my hand and it was hard to concentrate as I held it gently. Her toes, I noticed for the first time, were absolutely breathtaking. It wasn't long before my breathing became shallow and uneven as I stared at her petty toes.
Occasionally, I raked my eyes across her legs, noticing how smooth and soft they looked. Images of what she might look like naked came swiftly and unbidden to mind. I tried to will the thoughts away, knowing they were wrong, but it was useless. In spite of myself, I even stole a couple of glances up the long tee shirt she wore, to catch a glimpse of the pink panties she wore.
In the space of a few minutes I became obsessed with my daughter. It happened that quickly and easily. I was so lost in the images that flooded my head that I didn't hear a word she said. It was all I could do to keep from lifting her left foot and taking her toes, including wet polish, into my mouth. I wanted to spend hours tasting her feet, savoring the sweet feel of her soft skin on my lips and tongue. I wanted to lock eyes with Becky as I slowly drew her incredibly beautiful toes deep into my mouth.
Finally, mercifully, I was finished. I slipped the applicator back into the bottle she held and mumbled a few words that I don't even recall. I stood quickly to leave and the horror of all horrors hit me hard. My cock, all hard throbbing seven-inches, had made a big tent in the front of my trousers. Becky's face, as she sat on the edge of her bed, was no more than two inches from the bulge in my pants. Her green eyes widened and a loud gasp issued from her mouth. My little girl stared incredulously at the huge bulge, and then raised her eyes slowly to look at me. I did the only thing I could do: I fled her room.
I stumbled down the hall to the master bedroom and into the master bath. Gasping for breath, I dropped my pants and began jacking off, pounding my cock hard as I recalled the feel of her foot in my hand, the exquisite beauty and softness of her skin and the succulent shape of her toes. In my mind's eye I saw Becky's sleek legs and the pink panty crotch that covered her little pussy. I came hard, groaning with each jet of hot, sticky cum that exploded from my cock. Several minutes passed before my legs stopped trembling and I was able to leave the bathroom.
* * * * * * * * *
The next couple of days were hard on me. The sudden sexual attraction for my daughter came as a complete surprise, and the guilt and shame were relentless. I felt horrible, yet I was unable to dismiss the thoughts that kept coming into my head. I masturbated numerous times with Becky's pretty feet and legs in my mind's eye. On Friday night, as Susan and I made love, it was Becky that I pretended to fuck. I felt horrible.
I was afraid, at least in the beginning, that my daughter would mention what happened to her mother or her friends. Apparently she didn't say anything because it was business as usual at home. Even Becky showed no sign that anything had happened that night, which was curious because I know she saw the bulge my hard cock made in my pants. The widening of her eyes and the loud gasp, alone, were evidence.
The following Saturday Susan went to the mall with some friends. Normally a mall outing for my wife is an all day event, which left me alone with Becky. After I showered and pulled on a robe, I walked to the den where I saw my daughter sunbathing on the patio. She wore a skimpy, two-piece bathing suit that left little to the imagination. The thong she wore revealed a delicious expanse of her soft ass cheeks that instantly brought on an erection.
