How do you seduce your own daughter?
That was the question he needed answered.
He could remember being in his late teens and early twenties when all he had to do was ask the girl if she wanted to hang out, maybe watch a movie or something. If she shot him down the worse that'd happen was getting ribbed by his friends.
Then he'd gotten married and didn't have to fret over such things.
Years later, after a car accident, his wife had developed a drug problem and disappeared, leaving him to raise their daughter alone.
Even then it wasn't too difficult. He'd go out on a couple dates with someone and, if they hit it off, they'd discuss taking things to the next level, making any hook-up a prearranged conclusion. While it may not have been the most romantic approach, it protected his daughter as well as their kids. In those first years he'd been in his thirties, a good-looking guy whose active life kept him in in pretty good shape, so he'd actually been kind of promiscuous. Now he was in his early forties and still in shape, but he'd settled down a little. He had a couple friends that'd either come over to his place when Missy was out with friends, or he'd go to their place when their kids were out.
But now he was thinking about his own 18-year-old daughter.
How do you do it without causing serious, irreparable harm to the relationship?
The idea had first germinated the first day at the pool that summer, when he'd seen Missy in her new bikini. It wasn't any tinier than the ones she'd worn previously, it just seemed to fit her better. Her full c-cup breasts taxed the top and the bottoms hugged her little heart-shaped ass snugly. As she stood in the water pushing her long brown hair back, her slim back arched, jutting her tits out, and he'd sat in his chair dumbstruck, wondering when his little girl had turned in a young woman. From there he noticed her in other outfits; tight shorts that hugged her ass, skirts that barely reached mid-thigh, and tops that did a great job of displaying her breasts, all without being too slutty or skanky. This was what her wardrobe had gradually turned into over time. And while he hadn't particularly liked it, he had accepted it as a part of her own maturing process. Until now he hadn't really thought too much about it. But now, every time she entered a room he took a rather unfatherly assessment of her in her skimpy outfit, silently groaning with appreciation while simultaneously cursing himself.
It took a few months, but he eventually started wondering how he might seduce her.
But again, HOW do you do it?
Cause if this went wrong, there'd be a lot more fallout than some friends ribbing him.
His relationship with his daughter would be gravely damaged.
Hoping to find some magical answer he watched movies and read stories on-line. But they were little help. Most of the movies either had the daughter being extremely forward, or the dad simply started kissing and fondling the girl with no preliminary approach. As for the stories; they offered a little more variety in their set-ups, but still none offered a hard-and-fast answer to his question.
Adding to his torment was one movie in particular in which "the daughter" looked so much like his Missy that for a second he thought it was her, the large tattoo on the girl's arm the only thing really distinguishing her from Missy. She was about 5'4", like Missy, and had the same slim build with full breasts and a taunt little ass. She also had long brown hair and her face shined with the same shy, almost mousy demeanor. She even wore glasses. Not the same solid round frames, but glasses none the less. Mesmerized, he watched the girl respond to "the dad's" fondling of her. Watching his daughter's doppelganger being sexually touched was so exciting that he came hard long before the guy even started fucking her.
Any hesitations were erased in that moment.
He knew he wanted his daughter.
But he still didn't know HOW.
Then one night the need for a sure-fire "how" disintegrated in the ashes of an overwhelming need to just do it.
After dinner the two of them moved into the living room to watch a movie. He'd spent the evening admiring Missy in her tight shorts and t-shirt. Then, as he settled into his recliner with the remote in hand, she came over to stand by him, the long-braided pigtails of her hair hanging down to the swell of her ample breasts held snugly within her t-shirt.
"Can I sit in your lap, Daddy?" She asked.
While this not the norm any more, it was not unusual either.
"Of course, Sweetie," he smiled.
As she climbed into his lap, her lithe body nestling against him, he wrapped one arm around her so his hand rested innocently on her hip. She laid her head near his shoulder and he inhaled the sweet aroma of her hair mixed with a faint perfume. She settled her legs down along his, her toes resting on the recliner's footrest next to his feet. The movie started and after a few minutes she shifted in his lap, turning a little more to the side which meant one ample tit was pressing firmly against him. Suddenly he found it difficult to focus on the movie as thoughts and ideas, mixed with images of that movie, flooded his mind. Lost in his mental torment he failed to realize how his body was responding until Missy shifted in his lap. With a start he realized his cock had been growing within his slacks. And while he wasn't as large as some of the men in the movies, he was big enough that she had to be aware of it. In fact, she had shifted so that his growing member was nestled between her asscheeks.
The thought of it sent another rush of blood surging to his thickening member.
Did he hear a quiet little sigh escape her?
Oh fuck, man. A sudden, powerful surge of lust for his daughter coursed through him.
Yet he sat unmoving . . . frozen.
His mind raced with options, thinking about ways to broach the subject of his manhood on which she was nestled. Or just making some forward move like turning her face to his and pressing his lips to hers . . . driving his tongue into her mouth. He could also bring his hand up from her hip to cup her breast, or drop his other hand onto her thigh, stretching his fingers between her legs.
Or about a half dozen other things.
But he did none of them.
He was too nervous . . . too scared.
Again, fearing the damage to their relationship.
So he sat there, trying desperately to focus on the movie and will his cock to settle down, breathing a sigh of relief when the credits finally began to roll.
"I think it's time for bed," he announced.
"Yea?"
Did she sound disappointed?
"Yea, Sweetie."
"Ok."
Oh fuck, his mind groaned as she pulled herself from his lap, giving him an excellent view of her taunt little ass.
Turning around she looked down at him for a moment, her gaze wavering as she nibbled on her lip, thinking.
