Aidan finished his last rep and set the dumbbell down on the bench press. He slid out from underneath the bar and sat up. That was it for today's workout. He gingerly felt his sore biceps. They were definitely bigger; a week's worth of working out was already showing great results. Aidan had never been crazy about weight training, but then his accounting office had gotten a new blonde bombshell intern who was always dressed like she'd just walked fresh out of a porno, and he was determined to impress. His consoled his conscience by telling himself that he wasn't cheating on his wife--which he wasn't. He was just making sure his appearance was always on point. Besides, it was kind of like an investment in case things in his marriage went downhill.
Not that Aidan was hoping they did. Abby was the only girl he had ever loved. The two of them had been high school sweethearts--he'd been a trumpet player in the school's marching band, and she had been a reporter for the school paper. They'd gotten married two years after graduating high school, both of them 20 years old, and then had their only child four years later. Abby was his biggest fan, his pillar of support, his better half. He didn't think he could ever love anyone else the way he loved her, and she had told him the same. Besides, if they got a divorce who would want to marry a 42-year-old divorcee with an office job in accounting and an 18-year-old teenage daughter?
As Aidan walked out of the house's workout room, he checked his reflection in the mirror on the door. He was proud of his roguish good looks: blonde, exactly 6', sparking blue eyes, trimmed eyebrows, and a firm jawline glazed with three-day-old stubble as a result of him not shaving. Now he just had to get the rest of his body up to shape. Hence the weight training.
Aidan headed for the kitchen to grab a beer. Normally Abby didn't let him drink while Samantha was home or awake, but Abby wasn't around. She was out of the country, doing some investigative journalism. Opening the fridge, Aidan grabbed a Bud Light, popped it and took a long swill. As he walked back towards his man cave to watch some TV, he passed by the open door of his daughter's bedroom. A groan of disgust came from inside. "Everything ok, Sam?" he asked, peeking inside.
Samantha had gotten home from school about a half hour ago. She lay on her bed on her stomach, kicking her bare feet and doing homework. Aidan paused a second to remind himself of how beautiful a daughter he had sired. Samantha was very petite, standing at 5'4" and weighing 110. Her brown hair was tied back in two braids that hung down, brushing her shoulders. Her long eyelashes partially veiled her big brown eyes. Aidan had always been partial to brown eyes; that was why he'd married Abby. Well, that and a million other reasons. Samantha also had naturally plump lips, giving her a cute pout look that was the envy of many high school girls. She was wearing braces still, though; she'd gotten them on in middle school and due to unfortunate circumstances was still wearing them.
Samantha was still wearing what she'd worn to school, a plain white cotton t-shirt and a pair of short shorts that showed off her little ass very nicely. Aidan would have to ask Abby to have a talk with her when she got back from her trip; he usually let his wife talk to Samantha about her body's development and modesty.
Samantha looked up from the thick textbook on her bed. "Oh, hi, Daddy. Yeah, I'm fine. It's just calculus. It's really hard and I don't get it. Can you help me?"
Damn, Aidan thought, is she still gonna call me that? Samantha had dropped the word "Daddy" back when she was eight, but once senior year of high school had rolled around she was back to using it. Probably some kink her boyfriend had. He wished she wouldn't call him that; it turned him on a little, and you weren't supposed to get turned on by your own daughter.
"Sure," Aidan said, stepping into the room. He noticed the decor of the room out of the corner of his eye. A couple posters of boy bands and teen pop idols hung on the walls, and a "Puppy of the Month" wall calendar was just above the light switch. Samantha was without doubt a girly- girl, and he was just fine with that.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. Samantha moved over, wiggling into the middle of the bed to make room for him. "Calculus isn't too bad," he said, balancing his beer can on his knee as he reached over her for the book. "There's just a few theorems you've got to remember . . ." --- "Thanks, Daddy," Samantha said when they were done. She smiled at him, flashing her braces. "You're really smart."
"Nah, I'm just good with math," Aidan chuckled. "It is my job, remember." He felt bad for poor Samantha, still stuck with that mouth full of metal at 18. "How was your day at school, Sam?"
"It was okay," Samantha sighed. "School is boring." She paused. "Daddy, can I ask you something?"
"Of course, sweetheart. Anything."
"Daddy, I heard some girls talking about me at lunch today," she said, her voice dropping low. "They said that my butt is flat and small. Is that true, Daddy?"
Damn. Where the hell was Abby when he needed her? Usually whenever Samantha asked him these kinds of questions, he deflected them over to his wife. But she wasn't here.
"Uh, well, Sam," he said, "I, uh . . . I don't think what they said was very nice." His gaze traveled downward along the curve of Samantha's back and stopped at her shorts. They really left nothing to the imagination. The tight clingy material showed off every curve of her cute bubble butt, and the bottoms of the shorts barely reached the tops of her thighs. How did she get these past dress code? He could almost see her panties. As soon as he thought about this, the blood began flowing down to his dick. Oh, come on! he thought. Not now!
"But was it true, Daddy?" Samantha asked. "Is my butt really flat and small?"
"No, your, uh, your butt is very nice. Just fine." Aidan tried to make himself look away, but the curvature of his 18-year-old daughter's ass held his gaze like a magnet.
"Thanks, Daddy," she said. She flipped over onto her back, looking up at him as she laid her head in his lap. "And how about my tits, Daddy, do you think my tits are okay?"
Aidan's semi-erection twitched under his pants when he heard Samantha say "tits." "Uh, yes, Sam."
"Can you tell me, Daddy? Can you tell me how nice my titties are?"
She must have some kind of bodily insecurities about her tits and ass, Aidan thought. But why in the hell do I have to be the one who tells her about this stuff?
The reason Aidan had trouble talking with his daughter about this subject was because, sometimes, late at night when he couldn't sleep, he thought about it. He thought about his own 18-year-old daughter, a senior in high school. He thought about her body, about her tight firm ass, round like a globe. He thought about her soft, fleshy tits, no bigger than an A-cup bra size.
And he thought about fucking her. He thought about bending her over her own bed, pounding her senseless from behind. He thought about a reverse cowgirl, watching her ass bounce up and down as she rode his cock. He thought about her cute little mouth, with those slightly pouted lips, sliding down over his hard shaft.
And he knew he was wrong to think about Samantha like this, because, for fuck's sake, he'd helped bring her into this world. But he couldn't help it. And now he found himself uttering words that had been bouncing around up in his head for a long time.
"I really like your tits, Samantha. Your tits are perfect. They are gonna look just as good at 20 as they do right now, and just as good at 50 as they will at 20. They're gonna look young forever. They fit perfectly in your hands, and I bet it looks very cute when your boyfriend cums on them."
His cock was getting harder and harder with every second, and he could feel it pressing through his jeans, sandwiched between his left leg and her jawline. She had to be able to feel it; it was a raging boner touching her face, for fuck's sake. The thought of his daughter feeling his erection touching her cheek and letting it happen just turned him on all the more.
"Thank you, Daddy," Samantha told him, flashing him another smile. She looks so cute with those braces. "You really know how to make me feel special."
That voice--that damn voice of hers. It sounded so young, so innocent, but there was a sexy undertone that drove him horny-crazy. Samantha's head was shifting in his lap, and suddenly she gave a small cry. He looked down to see his beer spilled all over Samantha's chest. Her movement must have knocked it over.
"Awwww, Daddy!" she cried. "Look, my shirt is all ruined now!" She sat up next to Aidan on the edge of her bed.
It took Aidan a second to respond because he was focused intently on the beer stain. The liquid had spread over the front of her white t-shirt and turned the material see-through, giving Aidan a front row seat view of her breasts. He was a tit kind of guy, especially partial to a nice rack on a pretty girl. That was why he'd fallen for Abby in high school. She'd been stacked, and not afraid to show off a little.
And while Samantha didn't have as large a set as Abby, hers were still perfect in their own way. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her firm little tits flowed unrestricted beneath her shirt. The nipples were perky and rosy, making tiny indents in the fabric. Aidan's erection had been on the verge of maxing out, and the sight of his daughter's tits sent it to full hardness instantly.
Samantha watched him closely. "It's a good thing you like my tits so much, Daddy, cause now you can see them for yourself," she said.