Fathers with daughters worry about people hurting their daughters. With my other ones, that was the reality. But with this Victoria...I only worried about the people who tried to hurt her by the time she was done with them.
Strong willed. Sharp tongued. A vicious and ruthless animal hiding under a suntanned veneer and big brown eyes. Daddy's girl from the start, even long after most Dads become enemy number one. There was no shortage of attitude from here in the ages you'd expect it, but when push came to shove...the Daddy's Girl inside her always won out.
Which explains where we are now. She's a grown woman, out on her own in the world. Being just as amazing as I thought she would be. Job, place of her own, nothing holding her back from what she wants, just how I taught her to live.
But when push comes to shove...the Daddy's Girl inside her always wins out.
It's hard to say when it started exactly. We are a tight knit family. Doors are always open, no need to make plans, just come by and we're happy to see her. It started happening a bit more often than normal. I just chalked it up to the free laundry service and a refrigerator full of her favorite food that we always kept.
Summer has arrived now and Victoria comes over every weekend to sunbathe by our pool. Apparently the pool at her complex has too many guys staring at her or chatting her up. I knew she was pretty, I just never stopped and thought of Victoria as the type of girl you could pick up with a line by the pool...and I was right.
The first weekend of summer she was out there getting sun with her mom. They were talking and drinking White Claws and laughing. As I walked by the sliding doors to the pool, I noticed that for the first time, I saw her in her bikini as a woman. This svelte, toned creature with such fluid movements in a tiny frame. I understood why the guys at her complex felt compelled to try to get her attention...suddenly I wanted it too. I couldn't break away, my eyes traced every curve from her neck down to the soles of her feet.
I'm not sure when she noticed me, but when my eyes made their way back up to her face, I could see her looking at me. Inside I panicked...did I just get caught the first time I really looked at her? Did I just become the creep?
Fuck that, I'm not going down that way. I made eye contact and held it. The tension made it hard to breathe, but she did not look away. We stayed there, eyes locked for what felt like minutes, but were mere seconds until her mom got up to dip in the pool to cool off and Victoria joined her.
Over the next few weeks, life got back to normal. Victoria got busy with her life and friends and I settled back into a normal weekend routine. The thought of us locking eyes for those few minutes never faded, but it seemed more and more like a one time event.
Then came the fateful weekend. Victoria came over first thing in the morning with more laundry than I could have imagined. I went out to help her carry it all in like a good dad should. As she bent down to place a basket on the floor, the t-shirt she was wearing dangled just a bit and gave me a view I would never forget.
Two perfectly tiny breasts...not even a handful while hanging down...and piercings she had definitely not mentioned getting...a barbell through each tiny nipple. I couldn't stop staring and when she straightened back up she looked at me with my whole body frozen in a mix of shock and desire. Then she looked down at her t-shirt which was still a little open and realized what happened.
"Oops...sorry dad." But with a sly grin that clearly demonstrated that is was more "sorry not sorry" than sincerity. All I could say was "you're good" and turned and walked out of the laundry room as fast as I could.
I went all the way through the house as I heard her chat up her mom needing a minute to gather myself. I got into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face, but it was no use. I was hard as a rock..I couldn't get the image out of my head. I reached down, pulled it out and after a total of four pumps, jets of cum landed on the counter in front of me.
It wasn't hard to figure out why. She was a younger version of her mother physically, right down to the A cup bra size she wore. But with more edge, a greater curiosity about the world and fewer inhibitions in general.
The next weekend came and Victoria was back with another staggering amount of dirty laundry. I was more than eager to see what might happen next. To my surprise, she arrived wearing a tank top that was clearly a size too big and again, I got a perfect view down it. This time I looked up while she was bent down and met her eyes. She smiled slyly and went and straightened back up to turn the washer on. On her way by she reached out and touched my arm as she went by and it felt like lightening had just hit me. Any doubt I had that all this was an accident was erased by her touching my bicep for no reason.
More weekends passed and we played the game of her showing off and me no longer pretending to not look. I was disappointed to hear that she had bought a washer & dry and so she wouldn't need the free laundry help and the free torture she was giving me. But I felt like now there were enough breadcrumbs for me to follow if I dared. I had to know.