Atie and Randy

(A note: I am always interested in sharing fantasies and developing new ones with others. If you're interested in sharing fantasies, and perhaps having an orgasm or two together, contact me.)

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Young Katie's heart jumped as soon as she walked into the living room. Her mother had left for a three-day work trip, and having came home from college for the summer, Katie intended on spending quiet weekends with her father, Randy. They'd planned for the day. In the morning, after she'd gotten up, they'd cook breakfast together, and then, afterward, would go for a walk on the beaches of Santa Monica, catching up and enjoying time together, for the time they lost since she left for college nearly a year ago.

Those plans were the last things on her mind the moment she walked in the living room. Sitting on the couch was her father, his hands up on the air, as a masked man, standing just a few feet away from him, held a gun toward him. Still shaking, Randy jumped as he acknowledged Katie's presence, then darted his eyes to the masked man again, looking as helpless as Katie, in her 18 years, had ever seen her father.

"Oh, God," she screamed and took a step back, her knees wobbly, as soon as she saw the scene unfolding in front of her. Never in her life had Katie been so scared. In the peaceful family she grew up, where her father and mother taught her to use words and denounced all forms of violence, no guns were every seen or considered; she hardly heard a harsh words from her parents, whether directed at her or one another.

"Shut up and sit down," the man commanded, his voice rough and filled with rage as he pointed the gun at the couch, signaling for Katie to sit next to her father.

"A robber," Katie thought. But how could it be? They lived in a safe neighborhood - one of upper-classed, privileged Americans, where mothers and fathers and children could walk up and down the street all day without fear of being harmed, and a neighborhood where police cruisers quietly drove up and down the street, ready to jump to the rescue at the sight of anything remotely threatening. Yet, there she was on the couch with her father, with a stranger pointing a gun at them.

"Before you say anything stupid," the man began, his eyes glaring as he stared at the both of them. "I don't want your money."

He stopped for a second to let the words sink in, yet it didn't make it any easier on Katie's heart. The 5'4, 110-pound freshman from American University could feel her heart pounding, not knowing what to expect or what was to become of her family. Just for a second, she wanted her mother. While she loved and always got along with her father, her had always been a source of comfort, and deep inside, she wished Mother would all the sudden show up, and call the police, and they would be a family again. She was snapped back into reality by the man's voice again, and jumped, as the man continued.

"What I want is to see you naked," the man said to Katie, staring at her up and down and focusing on her chest, hidden from view by her arms. Still wearing her pink and yellow pajamas, Katie didn't look at all like the intelligent 18-year-old freshman that took the lead in many political projects at American University, where she majored in International Studies and Policy. Instead, she looked every bit the scared teenager she was, and perhaps even younger than her 18 years.

"Now, stand up, and start stripping, and your dad and I are going to watch," the man added, his eyes as serious as his tone, as he motioned to her with the gun.

"She ... I ...," her father stammered, pulling her in closer to him, his hands trembling as he tried to protest.

"Shut up and just watch," the man interrupted Randy. "I know you want to watch her," he man said in an accusing tone, one that all the sudden made Katie sick to her stomach.

They'd always been opened to each other, and saw the body as something beautiful, not to ashamed of or hidden. Yet, she'd never exactly been naked in front of him. They raised her to love her body, and be proud of it, however she looked. Fortunately, she was blessed with good looks, and although she struggled as a teenager to grow breasts, Katie now sported 28B pairs of breasts that were perky and firm, a sight that, for too long, many other students at AU had eyed and lusted after.

"Do it now!" the man said, cocking his weapon now, as he chambered a round and pointed it at the father and daughter, determined to prove to them they were not to call his bluff, and that he meant serious business.

Reluctantly, Katie stood up and with her eyes to the ground, began unbuttoning her pajama shirt, hands shaking from both fear and shame as she stood between the man and her father.

"At least I am faced away from Father," Katie thought to herself. "At least, even if I stripped naked, he'd only see my back."

As if he were reading her mind -- as if somehow he were given free access to the young girl's thoughts, the man ordered Katie to walk closer toward him and sit on the chair, facing her father so, as he said, Randy "could see what kinds of tits you've grown."

Shame washed over Katie. Sure, she was comfortable with her dad, but to display her body for him in such a manner, she could never live with herself. She could never live with the idea of allowing her father watching her strip, showing her tits, and then, even worst, having him look at her naked from the front, able to see her teenage pussy, which she'd kept clean-shaven since 13, when the unsightly hairs first started to grow.

In his seat Randy, too, trembled as his eyes glued on his daughter, hoping, wishing she weren't so scared and that somehow he could comfort her and make all the fear go away. Even just a few feet from one another, father daughter felt like they were thousands of miles away, unable to comfort each other, or reach out to hug each other to make the feelings of fear go away.

One button at a time, Katie began to undress, her fingers shook and her knees buckled with a new feeling of fear and shame she'd never experienced before, one that growing up in a family that instilled confidence in her from the time Katie was a young girl, she'd never had to experience.

"If I think about something else, maybe this wouldn't be so bad," she thought to herself as she unbuttoned the top button to her PJ top, slowly exposing her tan chest, and with each button, her cleavage and breasts came into view. She'd gone to sleep the night before without a bra and now, with half of her buttons already undone, Katie was exposing to her father her well-tanned chest. The result of many hours in tanning salons began to show itself for the first time to her father, her nipples poking out in reaction to the cold air. Two more buttons, and she still kept her eyes on the ground, focusing on each button, taking her time to undress as to not rush herself into embarrassment, and half hoping the man would change his mind, as Randy stared directly at this daughter's chest, with dry throat and pounding heart.

When at last all the buttons were undone, Katie stood there in front of her father, feeling like a child being judged, hands still shaking as her teenage breasts pushed out of her chest, her eyes continued to stare at the ground as she reached up to get out of her PJ top, and dropping it on the floor, right next to her feet, where she continued to stare, wondering what daddy thought of her, and worst, what will happen as the strip show continued.

"Now, your bottoms, too," the man screamed, once again waving his gun toward Katie, who flinched and moved back a bit, startled at the man's sudden movement.

"Oh, God, oh, no, no, no," she thought to herself. "This was bad enough, but my bottoms, too?" She continued to wonder, weighing the meaning of being naked in front of a stranger as well as her dad. For Katie, the body was such an intimate thing, but at the same time, also something private - not to be shown to just anyone. Trust. That's what had to happen before she exposed her body to any boy in college; yet, with both trust and intimacy nowhere to be found, she stood there half exposed, and there was more to come.

Slowly, she reached for her waistband, just right above both sides of her hips and began pulling down, half an inch at a time as if trying to buy herself time, as though if she went slowly enough, she would eventually make the man go away. She continued to pull her PJ bottoms down, just exposing the front, and Randy continued to stare as his daughter stripped, first at her chest again and then at her crotch, as if it was an agonizing tease. Part of him wanted to stop it all, yet part of him became curious at the exposure of his daughter's body.

Then, it came into view. First just the fleshy lips, just the top of the lips, so delicate and gentle as her thumb brushed against them on the way down, until her whole hand along with her bottoms, passed her whole crotch area, exposing to Randy her pouty lips, gently covering the tiny hole within, still yet to be exposed. From the distance, Randy swore her saw a bit of glimmering light on her right lip, perhaps a sign that she'd been a bit wet at the attention. His mind began to wander in places many fathers often visited, but so few ever admitted to doing such.

As Katie stepped out of her bottoms and stood there, naked and trembling in front of her own father and the man with the gun - the masked man who didn't care that she was naked in front of her father and was probably enjoying it, she began to wonder what her father thought of her. Was he judging her body? Was he upset that she'd shaven? Was he upset that she'd so easily stripped, despite having done so to save their lives?

The young girl didn't have a chance to think to herself for long, as her thoughts were interrupted by yet another command, jolting her out of her self-obsessed evaluation, and back into the scared stage that the 18-year-old, who looked more like she was 14 and so scared she might have been even younger, and back into reality again.

"Now, I want you to play with yourself," the man commanded as he sat down, gun still pointing at her, not giving a damn that she'd barely turned 18, after having graduated high school early, or that her father was also in the room, staring at her as the whole show began and had been keeping quiet the whole time.

"Uhh ...I can't ...," Katie stammered, knowing that would cross the line, that it was one thing to expose her own pussy in front of her father, and it was another thing to play with it, her own pussy, in front of him. Of course she'd masturbated before, many, many times, and in fact, had done so just the night before, dreaming of the classmates back at AU, but never, never had she ever considered playing with herself in front of her father.

Yet, the 18-year-old had no choice, for as soon as she started to protested, the man pointed a gun at her father, prompting her to sit down on the empty chair next to her and giving in to the man's demands as he smiled and motioned with his head to her father, telling him to watch his own daughter.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. During the times Katie masturbated, it'd been in front of her lovers, men she wanted to see her masturbate, and in her own room, with privacy. An act so intimate, she reasoned, was only meant for those she loved, and for herself, not for the whole world to see. Of course she loved her father, but that was a different type of love. She'd never considered him a lover, and to sit there, already exposed, and now about to touch herself, sent a repulsive feeling down her spine and deep in the pit of her stomach.

But masturbate she must. She had to do what it took to get that man to go away, to leave her and her father alone, and when Mother came home from her trip, they would be a happy family again, forever leaving behind this incident. At that moment, she didn't even consider that they would call the police, because of the shame, and fear that her face would be exposed all over the news. If no one knew, if they kept it quiet, Katie thought she could deal with the turmoil by herself, and with her dad's love.

Slowly, she began reaching for her slit, her lips still neatly folded, hiding and covering the tiny hole that often enjoyed being touched, fingered and fucked. Her middle finger got there first, gently parting her lips as she pushed down her slit, letting her hand, cold and trembling, slide down the valley that, at the top, featured her clit, still hidden from view, and below, the dip that at times became moist and wet, drooling with hot juices. But today, at this moment, she found it to be dry and lifeless, partly because of fear, and because she wasn't turned on.

Reluctantly, she moved her middle finger up and down the slit, her palm hitting against her clit as she moved her middle finger's knuckle - the one on the side of her palm, over her tiny hole, her knuckle taking a dip each time she did so. She swallowed hard, knowing that soon enough, she'd probably physically turn herself on, though emotionally, Katie was miles away, back at college, where she was loved and respected, looked up to and adored, lusted after and viewed as a future legislator and world-changer.

As if having an out-of-body experience, Katie continued touching her pussy, stimulating her clit, and letting her knuckle move over the fuckhole, sometimes making circles around it, completely unaware now that both her father and the masked man were watching. Her mind wandered back to college, to her lovers and the fantasies she'd spent her time in private engaged in. As she did so, both her father and the man had their eyes glued on her fingers, following each move as the teenage girl continued to masturbate. Partly feeling guilty, her father swallowed hard, as he all the sudden realized that he'd gotten excited, that it didn't matter that it was his daughter - or perhaps, it was because of his daughter that he was excited.

Dipping her knuckle into her hole, just a fraction of an inch, Katie shocked herself and snapped back to reality, remembering all the sudden that she was masturbating in front of her father and a stranger, as she could feel a tiny wet spot on her knuckle. Was she getting turned on in front of her father? Was she getting wet while masturbating in front of her dad, despite not wanting to? An intelligent girl Katie was, and she understood the concept of physical vs. emotional turn-ons, yet, at the moment, the young girl scolded herself. But as if egged on by something else, Katie continued to masturbate, pushing her palm harder against her clit, and with a quicker pace now, ran her knuckle over her dip once again.

"Oh, my God, I am getting turned on," Katie thought to herself, admitting to herself that she'd been turned on by touching herself, whether because it was also because she'd done so in front of her father was another story. The first step - admission, was all that was needed to open the floodgate as her speed increased, and all the sudden, Katie could feel the lust building inside of her.

"No, no, no, this can't be happening," she denied, yet part of her also let it all go. Perhaps if she made herself cum, she thought, the man would leave them alone, and better yet, she'd be able to satisfy herself. Then she and dad would talk about it, and it would all be over. They'd return to their normal lives, dad going on to love mom as he always did, and Katie continuing with her college career.

The more she focused on the fact that her father was watching her, which Katie simply could not get out of her head, the wetter she somehow got, as her teenage juices began to coat her insides at first, and them inch by inch, running down her pussy walls and wetting the opening of her tiny opening. Her knuckle was slick now with each dip it took inside her hole, no matter how shallow it'd been in, and the young girl felt a hot flush over her entire body as she looked down, realizing that her chest were flushed red, and her nipples pushing out of her breasts, excited by the pleasure she was providing to her other sexual parts.

With her breathing becoming more shallow, Katie closed her eyes, hoping, thinking that perhaps if she didn't see her father in front of her, she wouldn't get as turned on, but it didn't help. She'd given up now, she'd given up on trying to think that it wasn't her father watching her, because in reality, it was her father and there was no denying it; all the sudden, accepting the fact made it easier to masturbate, but she still didn't want to see him in front of her.

"Ugh!" a tiny gasp involuntarily escaped from her throat as her knuckle took another dip, taking with it the slick, hot lubricant now seeping out of her pussy and running down her slit. Deep inside of her, more juices had built up, and they needed released, they needed her help to exit her body, even if it meant doing so in front of her father.

Opening her eyes again, she looked directly at her dad, and all the sudden, realized his eyes were glued on her, on her pussy, on the way her hand and fingers were dancing around her teenage pussy. For a second, as he realized that Katie was looking at him Randy guiltily looked up at her. For a second, a mere second, their eyes locked. Katie sighed as he looked at her, because in his eyes, she could see it all. She could see the guilt of a father's helplessness, and for the moment, she felt an intense love for him. Yet, she also saw the eyes she'd seen in so many lovers - lust, the burning desire to be with her, to fuck her senseless, to make her cum. Katie shuddered at the idea of her dad being turned on by her, but part of her, a small, little part deep inside of her, accepted it, knowing that it was natural for a man to be turned on at the sight of a woman in a sexual position, especially one as good looking as she was.

"My, God, he's probably turned on," Katie thought to herself as her fingers continued to dance, and though the idea made her want to hurl, Katie could not help but eye her father up and down, letting her eyes rest on his crotch and realizing that his bulge was pushing out of his jeans. At that moment, Katie realized with certainties that her father had been turned on watching her masturbate.

Her heart beat faster, not out of fear so much, as she'd learned to accept the situation, but because she'd never been in this situation before. To her knowledge, she'd never turned her dad on, and all the sudden, the idea seemed a novelty to her. Her own father had gotten hard watching her, and she, too, felt guilty but it also made her wetter, as Katie increased the speed at which she rubbed her pussy.

"Hmmmm," she softly moaned, closing her eyes and leaning back, preserving in her mind the image of her father with his lusty eyes and bulging cock, staring at her as she masturbated. "I wonder if he's still staring," she thought to herself as she, on impulse, pushed her middle finger halfway inside herself, sending pleasurable shocks to the nerves inside the hole, now slick and warm as it expanded to welcome her finger.

"Ohhhh," she dragged out the word, letting her finger linger before pushing it in all the way and gasping as she did so, wondering if her dad was watching it, and the idea that it did made her even more wet, tensing her body as her finger thrusted in and out of her own cunt.

A daughter putting on a show for her father and a stranger, she thought to herself. How hot was it that her father had lost all sense of fatherly love and protection and being turned on by her own body, she thought. How hot was it that all the social constructions of family, thousands of years of defining and redefining what was moral and immoral were all gone, replaced with the pure lust a father had for his own daughter? How hot was it that her father probably wanted to fuck her?