I watched my daughter Karen grow-up over the years. Our relationship had always been very close. I had coached her sports teams from soccer to basketball to fastpitch softball. She grew strong, 6'2" tall, lithe, and very athletically gifted. She actually seemed out of place on the athletic field, her beauty surprised many, but her take no prisoner attitude gave her the fire in the belly to perform and leave it on the field. I knew she got the athletic desire from me, and her looks from her mom.
As a junior athlete, she was invited to play on the jr. national soccer team, travel to Sweden to play in an international tournament, with short stints to play in Iceland and on to Norway before arriving in Sweden. Returning to the US, she quit the sport to focus on basketball and softball. After her freshman year of high school, she dropped basketball to spend all her time on softball.
And she has excelled at softball. Pitching and playing 1st base, I pulled together a team of very talented girls, created a travel team, and have attended many tournaments around the states, as well as some international. Her team won the high school state championship her junior year, with less success her final year, but still made the final four teams vying for the state championship. All in all, her success academically and athletically has made her a Division I scholarship athlete. So it's off to UCLA next year to play for the Bruins.
During the off season from her beloved sport, she would join me daily for a run. Before work, about 5:30 in the morning, weather permitting, I did between 5-6 miles around our mountain home community. I even went so far as to purchase another heavy duty treadmill for my daughter to run beside me when the weather was not conducive to run outside. I often admired her form, her physical shape. Long legged, her firm muscular legs had the tale tail signs of a top athlete, flowing into an ass that longed to be touched. Narrow waist, broad shoulders, her breasts stood proud. Not overly large, I could tell they were firm from the way they bounced during our runs. I even would run backwards just to give her a hard time.
Karen had lots of friends at school, many opportunities to date, attending all the major dances, functions, and more at school. Additionally, she got invited to the majority of the parties I guess from her social calendar. It read like I would expect, busy evenings, lots of study friends, and many later evenings. I was thrilled for her, watching her grow and become a strong, skilled, mature young lady.
My wife nurtured her over the years, providing the necessary poise, etiquette, friendship, shoulder, and anything else that was required. We had been open in our discussions about sexuality with her. It was not a taboo subject, and questions were often asked, more of mom, but when she wondered about the male species, I got to fend for myself. Now, she had been nominated for prom queen. We could not have been any prouder of her.
Thursday of last week, the wife left for a family visit to see her ailing mom. Then, last weekend, it snowed here in the Colorado Mountains. 30-inches of snow fell over a 36-hour period. By Sunday night, school for Monday was cancelled. I dreaded the amount of work ahead of me for early Monday morning before the sun shined on the snow. Spring storms drop heavy wet snow, and with a long driveway, I hoped the snow blower would not clog with slushy snow. I got started very early, about 6:30 am. I was not out long. About half way through, I plowed into the runoff portion of the drive, clogging the second stage thrower, and killing the machine. I would now rely on the sun for clearing the drive. Cursing, I pulled the blower back into the garage, stepped into the mud room, removing my wet boots, coat, hat, gloves, and bib overalls. I had worked up a sweat from the work, so headed up to my bedroom to shower and change. I only had on a pair of jogging shorts, soaked t-shirt, and socks.
At the top of the landing, I started to turn right to head to the master bedroom, but heard noises coming from down the hall. Thinking Karen was awake, I passed the two empty bedrooms, then the bathroom, and made the last couple of steps remaining to her bedroom door. I stopped in my tracks. The noises coming from Karen's room filled my head, making me freeze in mid step. Muffled grunts, words filtered out through the door.
"Fuck me daddy!" wafted from her room. "Fuck my pussy hard Daddy!" she grunted.
I reached slowly to turn the handle to her door. Hesitating, my breath deep in my chest, I was not sure what I should do. My cock chubbed in my shorts, growing long and getting thick. I pushed the door an inch or two, enough to hear her.
"God Daddy! Yes Daddy!" she whispered loudly now. "Yes Daddy! It feels good Daddy!" she continued. I could hear squishy noises. I knew she was playing with her pussy. My mind exploded, my minds eye creating an image of my baby's legs spread wide, her knees up, her cunt open for me. I could see my cock head sliding up, down between her wet, soaked, soft lips. My cock head glistened, sliding easily to her hole. Her breath jumped into her body, her hips flexed, tilting, opening her cunt to me. "Daddy, please," she breathed.
I could hear her. She was fucking herself. I instantly got extremely hard. I grabbed my cock, wrapping my fingers around my engorged shaft over my shorts. I pumped once, twice. God it felt good! I could hear her growling, grunting, her bed bouncing. I stood frozen in place. I moaned out loud. Instantly, Karen stopped movement. I could hear rustling. I was ready to die.
I took two gigantic steps backwards quickly, softly, turned for a last large step and ducked into the open door. Stepping to the side, I was not visible from the hallway. I heard Karen's door creak open. I assumed she was glancing down the hall. Being early morning, the hall was still somewhat dark, although daylight savings time did illuminate more than I hoped. I stood frozen, not breathing. My heart was loud enough. God I had to pee. I stood for an eternity, waiting for Karen to close her door. Her door creaked again. I waited momentarily.
I shuffled to the door, slowly leaning forward to see her door. Open! Wide fucking open! I listened with every fiber in my body. I could hear her in the darkness of her room. Was she on the bed? Was she watching down the hall to catch me? I stepped forward, turned and briskly walked down the hall toward my bedroom. Did I hear her call Daddy?
I quickly crossed the bedroom, entered the bathroom, and stepped into the toilet alcove, closing the door behind me. I could finally breathe. "Oh God," I breathed. I grinned to myself. I wondered what she was doing. Was she fingering her clit? Was she stuffing her young pussy with her fingers? My cock grew again. I stroked it hard, pumping several pumps before stuffing it back in my shorts. Exiting the toilet alcove, I opened the door to the shower, turned on the water, closed the door to allow it time to heat up, and stepped into the walk-in closet. I removed my clothes, getting ready to enter the shower. Opening the door, I found the water cascading down, just hot enough to make it hard to get in the water, but knowing how good it would feel. I took a leisurely shower.
Once out, I threw on an old university t-shirt, sweat shorts, socks and slippers and headed downstairs. As I exited my bedroom, I hesitated on the landing. I listened again, wanting, hoping to hear Karen in the throws of sexual desires. Nothing! I reached to adjust my insensitive cock. It did not give a damn that this young lady was my flesh and blood. Its' little brain was on full alert. It crossed my mind that I should have satisfied myself in the shower as I started down the stairs.
I could smell fresh brewed coffer rising from the kitchen. "Coffee," I shouted as I bounded down the stairs. I rounded the bottom of the stairs, crossed the foyer, entered the hallway to the kitchen. Karen had opened the kitchen window pleated blind, looking at the fantastic view, over the deck with nearly 3-feet of snow piled up. She had placed her hands on the sink rim, leaned up to her tip toes, leaning her upper torso toward the window. Her hips thrust back, her ass looked magnificent. In pajama top and tight pajama shorts, she looked inviting. Her long legs again filled my thoughts. I slowed my approach, stepping beside her. I reached my hand to her back, sliding my hand under her pj top as I had done thousands of times before. I slid my hand upwards, gently massaging her back.
"I'll give you 30-minutes to stop," she whispered, not even glancing around to me. "Isn't it absolutely beautiful this morning Daddy?" she asked. I stood, looking out the window, my hand roaming up her back. I love the feel of her skin, soft, firm, warm. I massaged her shoulders, her neck, down her spine to the small of her back, around the hip, up the sides, my fingers tracing her sides, leaving a trail of goose bumps, over the scapula, up to the nape of the neck, down over the shoulder, her upper arm, and back. I continued my gentle massage for several minutes.
"I need coffee!" I whispered with husky intensity. Withdrawing my hand, I swatted her butt softly and moved to get a coffee cup from the cupboards. "Thanks baby," I told her. Turning back to her, she had turned around, now leaning against the sink, her hands tucked behind her ass, lifting her body slightly as she straightened her arms. Her tits thrust upwards, her back slightly arched, her flat tummy prominent in her pose. I noticed the fullness of her mound, her pubic hair fluffing the front of her tight pj's. "You look great baby," I said, startling even myself. I soaked her in.
