Guilty Pleasures

She had exploded in righteous anger. "Don't try and put the blame on me! I didn't come out there to have sex with you. I just came to say goodnight and you're the one that got all hard and sexed up and wanted to do it with me. And you know what, I would have let you. I would have let you fuck me because your hard cock felt good and I'm desperate for any kind of affection from you! Don't you understand? I wanted you to fuck me."

And then in a softer tone. "Well maybe you should try it sometime. You might like it."

My daughter Tracie, now 18 going on 19, had just spewed these words at me after a heated argument. I was sitting in my favorite chair after leaving her bedroom following the argument, letting my mind wander, thinking of her accusations and remembering many of our times together. Her words stung and were still reverberating in my ears, taunting me into action. I had a lot to think about.

I should have slapped her, or beat her ass for talking to me that way. She wanted ME to fuck her, her dad? There was no doubt she looked gorgeous and had a terrific figure. And was it true I hadn't shown her much affection? Had I failed to be a loving and caring father?

Now she was 18, with only a couple of months remaining in her final year of high school. At the end of the summer she would be leaving home to start college. Sometimes I thought the time couldn't pass fast enough, just to get her out of the house, other times I felt pangs of guilt because I had missed most of her growing up years and now I wanted to make up for lost time.

I drifted back in time and recalled scenes of pleasurable interaction with her. I remembered when we were playing a silly game of 'catch and tell'. I think she and her friends made up the rules but it was kind of like playing tag. If you can catch the other person then they have to tell you a secret. I thought it was kind of stupid and obviously childish. I didn't particularly want to play but heck, she is my daughter and it's a father's parental duty to entertain and do things you don't want to do. I was pleased that she even wanted to play with me as her friend so to speak rather than treating me like a parent that is from another planet. It's nice when your kids trust you enough to let you participate in their world.

It was my turn to catch her and she ran through the house as fast as she could to get away from me. She screeched and screamed as she ran as fast as she could, her long hair flying side to side, her arms all akimbo and moving like miniature windmills as she sped around corners and through rooms at full tilt. She was much quicker and more nimble than I was. I came close to getting her a few times but each time she managed to duck under my arms or slip out of my grasp and get away, as though she was greased.

At some point I realized I was having fun, enjoying myself in a freedom I hadn't experienced in a long time, and it wasn't because of the game itself. The more I touched and grabbed at her the more I was stimulated and excited about chasing her down. She became the prize that I wanted but there was never a conscious thought about molesting her or physically abusing her whenever I eventually caught her. I assume I am no different than most men, the thrill is in the chase, in the attempt to capture. There is some truth in the old joke that says you wouldn't know what to do if you did catch her. I just became aware, as a man becomes aware, of her legs, her slender hips and her ass as she ran in front of me. I wanted what she seemed to offer.

It probably took about ten minutes before she made a mistake. She had gone into the bedroom and was trying to dodge around me when I was able to wrap my left arm securely around her waist. She squealed in frustration as I pulled her to me and enclosed her with both arms so there was no escape.

We were both panting and a little exhausted from the exertion of running around the house. I backed up to the bed and fell over backward onto it, pulling her down on top of me. It wasn't hard to do because she was a pretty lightweight kid. I was uncomfortable with my legs hanging over the end so I scooted further up onto the bed moving her with me as I wiggled myself up higher. When I got to where I wanted to be I put my legs together and let her lay full length on top of me. She apparently didn't think there was anything unusual about it as she made herself comfortable, catching her breath.

My adrenaline was racing and it felt wonderful to hold my skinny little prize close to me. Her hair fell on my face and my hand automatically caressed her from the small of her back up to her shoulder blades and under her hair to the nape of her neck. I didn't want to move as we listened to each other's breath slowly become more regular.

I became conscious of her weight on me. I loosened my bear hug on her and she promptly raised herself up on straightened arms, bending upward from the waist.

Several buttons on the bottom part of her blouse had popped loose from my grabbing and pulling at her as I chased and tried to catch her. The blouse wasn't on straight now and the bottom of it had ridden up to the bottom of her ribcage. The lower buttons had all come undone and the blouse flapped open almost to the top of her chest. Her little breasts were like two beacons, pink, swollen hard, and inviting. They were still quite small, protruding only an inch or so from her chest but they pulled at my eyes like powerful magnets.

To my great dismay I started getting a little hard. I didn't know if she could feel it or not. I held my breath and hoped she didn't notice and wouldn't say anything like asking what was it was. She just lay there on top of me being very still and quiet, breathing hard.

My wife and I had recently been discussing the need to get her a training bra since her breasts were becoming very noticeable under her t-shirts and blouses. She was quickly changing from a child to a young adult before our eyes.

"You owe me a secret now," I said, trying desperately to find something else focus on.

"I know, I'm thinking of one to tell you."

A minute of silence followed and I wished she would hurry up before I lost control of myself. "I think we should get up now sweetie".

"I have my secret ready but it really isn't a secret."

"What is it then?" I asked.

"It's something I know, but you already know it too."

"Ok, why don't you just tell me. We can still count it as a secret if you want to."

"Well, uh....um... I don't know if I should say but, uh..., I can tell you are hard. There! That's my secret."

My mind started racing. I immediately rolled her off me then and sat on the edge of the bed with my back to her. I knew I had to talk to her whether I wanted to or not and I had to do it immediately.

"We need to have a serious talk sweetheart. About what just happened, ok?"

"Sure. Are you mad at me? I didn't do anything wrong."

"No, I'm not mad at you honey, and you didn't do anything wrong but you need to know a few things about the facts of life and the birds and the bees. You know what I'm saying here?"

So we had a long talk where I did most of the talking. I could tell she didn't really want to discuss the birds and bees because she thought she knew what it was all about or because she was embarrassed discussing the subject with her father. I know I was embarrassed when my own Dad broached the subject with me. I explained the whole process of intercourse, reproduction, male/female relationships and the inherent dangers of a daughter and father relationship when sexual emotions get out of control. I don't think she understood much of that part. She interrupted me a couple of times to inform me she already knew that stuff from her health class. I finished by telling her in a nice way that because she was my daughter I couldn't allow what had just happened to happen again.

Her head was hanging when I finished talking and she didn't look at me directly. "But doesn't it mean you like me a lot when you get big? When it happens to the boys at school they say it means they like you. Is that true? I think it is cool when you get hard because then I know you love me a lot too. What's wrong with that?"

Her innocent comments made me squirm with excitement. Listening to her talk I became hard again but I wasn't comfortable. It wasn't easy but I explained how the boys were trying to manipulate the girls and the dangers involved. I explained to her again that love and sex are not the same thing and that I could love her very much without getting hard.

Tracie sat on the edge of the bed lost in her own little world. She buttoned up her blouse and didn't say a word. What was going on in her mind? She seemed to be staring off into space. Was she confused, upset, angry? From her reaction and comments I knew I had awakened something sexually in her.

"I shouldn't have done that sweetheart. I'm sorry. Lets go get something to eat ok?"

We went to the kitchen and after eating a sandwich for lunch we were standing at the sink putting the dishes away. I hugged her to try to convey to her that all was ok, that I loved her. I didn't want her to think I blamed her for what had happened, or I that I was angry with her or anything. I patted her back and ruffled her hair as she looked up at me. Then she said those words that tear the heart out of every father; "I love you daddy."

"I love you too sweetheart, very, very much."

I was a little concerned but I didn't say anything more to her. I wanted to instruct her not to tell her mother about the game and her 'secret' but I knew that was risky. Most of the time as soon as I said not to do something, it was the very thing she went and did. So I kept my mouth shut and prayed a silent prayer that I she wouldn't say anything. After a while it became apparent she hadn't said anything to her mother and probably was not going to. We, or at least I, had my 'secret' intact for the time being.

For a few days my mood swings were wild ups and downs. I knew I had teetered on the edge of being in big trouble because deep down in my inner core I had a very strong desire to have sex with her and I wanted to be the one to 'teach' her about sex. I alternated between disgust and loathing for myself for wanting to have sex with her, and the desire to raise her with moral values, to be the best father she could ever have. I chose to bury my desire for sex with my daughter and the only way I knew how to do that was to suppress the origin of those desires.

Shortly after this incident with Tracie my life as I knew it began to fall apart. For much of the next five years or so my memory is a blur, particularly in regards to Tracie. Unfortunately I just didn't have the time to devote to her because my wife's illnesses suddenly became terminal and demanded my entire attention.

She became bedridden and lost all control of her bodily functions, including the ability to feed herself. We didn't have health insurance and we both agreed that I could probably do a much better and more humane job than the professional caregivers, and at less cost. So I quit my work to spend full time looking after her at home.

Trying to raise Tracie at the same time was very difficult and as a result my close relationship with her changed. Our relationship became more than a little stormy as she grew through her teenage years. I became very strict and demanding. We fought and argued about many things and I meted out discipline to try to keep her in line and to raise her with some sense of values. As she grew into her teenage years she became more rebellious and difficult. She resented my authority and domination over her and as a result she seemed to do all those things that she knew would irritate and anger me. I didn't like the way she dressed, she wanted a tattoo and a piercing (I hit the roof and she didn't do it), and I didn't like her choice of friends.

It took three long years for my wife to die. When it was finally over I was utterly and completely spent, emotionally, physically and financially. I was a wreck, like a zombie. After her death I had no emotional currency left in my account.

.Tracie turned 18 while her mother was still very ill. It was during the last year of my wife's illness that Tracie and I slowly came to a better understanding of each other and started to tear down the fences we had built over the earlier years. I thought how unfortunate it was that it took a death to finally resolve an ongoing battle of wills.

She had quickly blossomed into a delightful young woman during my wife illness. Many times she was very helpful and seemed to have a better understanding of my despair and emotional needs than I did. She had made several comments about how I needed to get out more and start living again but I didn't pay a lot of attention to her. I ignored her advice because I didn't give her much credit for knowing anything about living and dying. I found out later how wrong and insensitive I was.

A couple of months after the funeral I was watching the 10:00 news in my pajamas before hitting the rack. About half an hour earlier I had heard Tracie cleaning up in the kitchen and then it became quiet in there. I assumed she had gone to bed but I was mistaken. She came out to say goodnight.

"Hi Honey, I thought you had already gone to bed. It's getting late you know and the dawn comes early."

"Yeah, I'm going right now. I just had a shower and came to bid you adieu, or bon soir, or however those crazy Frenchmen say it."

"Is it ok if I sit on your lap for a while? I'm feeling a little sad and need a hug. I'm kind of missing mom tonight."

She turned and flopped herself onto my lap, leaning back against my chest and resting her head on my shoulder while digging her bony shoulder into the side of my ribs. She smelled soapy clean and her hair was soft and silky against my cheek. She was wearing her favorite floor length, pink polyester nightgown. The material clung to her body, highlighting her puffy breasts that poked up under the soft silky fabric. Gentle folds cascaded down from the pinnacle of her nipples. With each breath her breasts were rising and falling beneath her gown.

I wanted to caress them and feel their weight in my hand. I instantly became semi-hard. "Oh, God, please, please don't let this happen," I thought. She squirmed in my arms, pulling herself upward to get more comfortable, pressing into my semi-hard penis when she moved. I thought she did it in all innocence but the effect on me was electrifying. My cock blossomed to fullness, brushing upward against the inside of her thigh as it grew to full length.

She turned her head toward me and smiled. "Dad! I think you're missing mom tonight too. That's pretty cool." She giggled, sighed, tucked her head under my chin and moved her butt again, this time on purpose.

I had to get her off, and quickly. I sat up quickly, supporting her with my hand in the middle of her back so she wouldn't fall back onto me. Now she was siting straight up in front of me, her legs between mine with her feet on the floor. My hard-on was between her legs, pressing against the front of her pussy.

"Get up right now and go to bed sweetheart."

"Why? I don't want to."

"Because I said so and that's the only reason you need. Now go. You're too old to be siting on my lap."

"Come on Dad! I am not. I'm not a little girl anymore so don't treat me like one. I like it here."

"Go! Now!" I was pushing her up but she was pushing back, resisting.

She put her hands on the armrests and raised her butt from my lap. As she started to get up my hard-on dragged across her bottom from the front of her pussy to the back and when it came loose it sprang back like it was spring loaded. She gasped a loud "Gosh."

My cock was standing straight up in a raging hard-on. As soon as her weight lifted off me she immediately lowered her butt again until I stabbed her in her ass cheek. She quickly swiveled her ass side to side while suspended over me, once to the right and then to the left. My swollen cock head snapped into and then out of her crevice and then plopped in again as she deliberately rubbed her pussy against my erection. The movement was slick and easy against the polyester of her nightgown. It was over within seconds, before I could react to stop her, but the message was clear.

She pushed herself to her feet, half shouted a "Goodnight dad!" and ran from the room, down the hallway to her room, giggling like a little girl.

Was she mocking at me? Did she think this was funny?

Sexual thoughts of all kinds instantly flashed through my mind like lightning bolts. I wanted to rip her panties off and push my hard cock into her tight young pussy. I asked myself if I should I take her now, force myself on her and fuck her hot little ass. No! She is my daughter. But she was asking for it wasn't she? I mean she didn't resist me, push me away or anything. She obviously wanted it, the little bitch. If she wanted to fuck that badly I thought, I should show her what it was all about.

I quickly followed in her footsteps as far as the bathroom in the hall. I thought I was going to cum before I could even get it out of my pajamas. I came quickly, in no more than a few seconds. Once, twice, then a violent explosion on the third stroke. It took quite a while for my erection to subside, even after ejaculating. I sat on the toilet seat, collecting myself so I could face her.

I knocked gently on her door. "Tracie? May I come in?'

"Yeah. It's open."

She was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, as though she was waiting for me. She was leaning forward slightly, shoulders rounded dejectedly, pouting. She had tucked her gown under her legs, her nightgown stretched tightly into a tent-like shape.

"I uh,... I'm a little embarrassed about what happened out there."

"Why should you be embarrassed? Anyway, you started it, I didn't."

"Honey, we have to live together and....."

She interrupted me. "You always manage to spoil my fun. It doesn't seem to matter what it is. For half my life you hardly even knew I existed. Every time I try to get close to you or get some affection from you, you push me away like I'm some kind of leper."

"I didn't raise you to act like that. That wasn't what is called 'affection'. What in the hell were you thinking of? That was sex, period. I shouldn't have to remind you that you are my daughter, not my wife or girlfriend, and I don't have sex with my daughter."

She exploded. "Don't try and put the blame on me! I didn't come out there to have sex with you. I just came to say goodnight and you're the one that got all hard and sexed up and wanted to do it with me. And you know what, I would have let you. I would have let you fuck me because your hard cock felt good and I'm desperate for any kind of affection from you! Don't you understand? I wanted you to fuck me."

"Watch your mouth young lady! You're still living under my roof."

"Well maybe you should try it sometime. You might like it. When I try to be affectionate you act like I have committed a crime or something.

"How long are you going to continue living with your guilt, huh? When are you going to let it go and start living again? How long will it take? I know what you did in the bathroom just now. I heard the toilet flush."

I got up to leave. As I reached the doorway she said, "Goodnight dad, I'm sorry I got mad at you."

I stopped and turned back to respond to her and saw she had pulled the gown out from under her legs. She was sitting up straight, knees and thighs exposed. The hem of the gown was bunched up around her hips and one hand was pressing her nightgown close to her body, purposely separating and clearly showing me her full breasts pushing eagerly against the thin polyester fabric.