Me and My Camera

Peter Green was a pretty normal guy who had been married for almost thirty years, and the father of two children - one of each variety. The oldest, Keith was 21 and away at college, while 18 year old Alison was going to be heading off to school come fall herself.

The neat split-level house on Milton Street looked much like the others in the development and the Green family was typical of most of the rest of the neighborhood, at least from the outside, but sometimes looks are deceiving.

***

Chapter One: I've come to this.

The idea to get the surveillance camera was for protection, I reminded myself while getting ready to watch the film. Back about a dozen years ago I had purchased a camera because there had been a rash of cases where babysitters were caught abusing the children they were supposed to be caring for, and I wanted to make sure that Keith and Alison were safe when they were being watched.

That didn't explain the new, state of the art camera that I had just purchased. Keith was off at college and Alison would be pretty soon as well. My daughter leaving would make us empty-nesters, and while that idea was something that sounded good back in the days when Dawn - that's my wife - and I would have given anything for some privacy, these days... not so much.

What changed? "The change" was what some people called it. Menopause. By any name, it isn't any fun for the woman, but it stinks for the man too. All of a sudden, sex had become virtually extinct in our bedroom. OUR BEDROOM of all places!

Dawn had once been as horny as yours truly, and that's saying something. Now she's the Ice Princess, and everything has to be just right; maybe the planets have to be aligned properly, or the humidity needs to be exactly 42% or something else before I get the go-ahead. Once we do go at it, it isn't the same.

I know she's having trouble dealing with the change, but so am I. That much is obvious, because if you have ever told me last year that instead of being upstairs making love to my wife I would be hunkered down in my basement den getting ready to watch what I hoped would be a dirty movie, I would have said you were crazy.

The Labatt's was cold and soothing going down smoothly, one down and who knows how many more to go, as I turned on the TV and made myself comfortable.

The TV was brand new too, a nice 50" flat screen that I had bought last month and put it into the previously forgotten den downstairs. Dawn didn't even complain when she saw it, probably figuring that it was worth it to not have me hovering around her, hoping for a pity blow-job.

The picture was spectacular, and as the screen lit up with the movie I was about to watch, the star of the film appeared, thanks to the motion activated camera. The star was about the most unlikely movie star imaginable for many reasons, but the major one being that she was my daughter, Alison.

***

Chapter Two: Alison unwrapped

I had read some stories at literotica.com about fathers having sex with their daughters, and I have to confess that they usually turned me right off even though I knew they were fiction. I didn't understand how someone could do that to their flesh and blood no matter what they looked like.

The daughters in these stories are always voluptuous vixens with breathtaking looks and jaw-dropping figures, so maybe that's why I couldn't relate to them, because although I love my Alison with all of my heart, even I would have to say that she isn't the kind of young lady that draws much attention.

My wife Dawn says that Alison is one of those girls who will "grow into their beauty" as the years pass. Suffice to say that she's rather plain looking. She's a brilliant student who looks the part of the nerd, with the requisite glasses and hangdog expression.

Like her mother, Alison's a very tall girl, just an inch or two shy of 6', and she kind of scrunches her shoulders to try and not look it but it doesn't work. Her hair is medium brown, straight and very long, reaching halfway down her back.

She's planning on donating her hair to some charity that makes wigs for sick kids, and it's been so long since she's had short hair that it will be tough to get used to that, but she's a good kid for doing this. Always thinking of others and grumbling about injustice, in that naive liberal way that kids have and usually grow out of, and she dresses the part too.

She dresses like a teenage girl in Moscow, circa 1965, usually wearing drab baggy clothing that gives her an androgynous look. Dawn used to try to get her to look more feminine, but finally gave up when Alison put up a fight.

"Do you think she's gay?" I remember asking Dawn one night when Alison's long-time friend Lois was staying over yet again.

"I don't think so," Dawn said in shrugging off my question. "She's got all those pictures of The Jonas Brothers on her walls, and sometimes I overhear the two of them talking about boys."

I was suspicious though, because of the giggling I heard late at night sometimes, which was how I came up with the idea of setting up the camera in her room. Just curious, I told myself, although I admit that my interest was primarily in her friend Lois.

Not that Lois was a beauty queen either, because she was as short and round as my daughter was long and lean, but the squat little red-head had what seemed to be the biggest set of jugs possible, and I was just wondering what they would look like unwrapped.

The first time I watched what went on in Alison's bedroom, I was disgusted. Not so much at myself, but of the poor quality of the picture that my antiquated camera produced. I knew that an upgrade would have to be made, because from the moment I sat down and watched I was hooked.

I still remember vividly the first time I saw Alison undress, and I was shocked because it wasn't until then that I realized how little of my daughter I had seen. She hadn't worn a bathing suit for years, and the clothes that she wore gave no indication of how her body had developed.

So when that drab pea-green army surplus shirt came off, I felt a twinge of sadness for my baby girl. Her upper torso was so slender, and her arms so reed thin, that she looked like a refugee, which made me wonder where the fortune we spent on food went to.

She was wearing a very modestly tailored brassiere that made no effort to hide the fact that it was obviously padded, and as she took it off my heart broke a little bit. To think that Alison was the daughter of the woman across the hall with the 38 inch bust was hard to believe.

Poor Alison was flat-chested. I don't mean that she had small breasts, she had virtually no breasts at all, merely the most subtle little swells on her chest. The normal sized nipples with the silver dollar sized aureoles almost seemed to mock the sprouts they were resting on, their deep crimson hue making them stand out even more on her pale, scrawny chest.

Then Lois came into the room, and to my shock Alison not only didn't cover up, she calmly stood there without the slightest shame and took off her jeans while Lois began to disrobe.

Despite my interest in Lois, it was hard for me to take my eyes away from my daughter. There was something about her androgynous look that appealed to me even though it wasn't something that ever got my attention with other women.

Alison's body was decidedly pear-shaped, with her bottom much bigger than her top. I learned this when Alison stood there clad only in her panties, and the surprising lushness of her butt was revealed. The modestly tailored panties also revealed something that she definitely inherited from her mother, as a few hairs peeked out of the sides of the elastic, indicating that she likely had a bountiful bush on her like Dawn.

Lois proved to be as interesting as I had hoped, because when she took off her t-shirt and got out of the long-line bra that looked to be built for heavy duty, her breasts sure got my attention.

Lois's upper body was all tits; the biggest, fullest pair of breasts imaginable. They were like watermelons as they hung down to her waist, and her rose colored aureoles were as big as drink coasters, with nipples like bullets.

By the time I got to this part, I was on my knees in front of my old TV downstairs, cursing the crummy quality of the picture while trying to get the best view possible. To my shame, I found myself masturbating to the sight of my daughter's friend brushing Alison's long hair as she sat in front of her mirror, Lois's massive breasts swaying as she stood behind Alison, and I had the best orgasm I had in years.

Nothing went on that I could see, although they didn't put anything on when they climbed into Alison's bed and turned out the light. The bedding jiggled while I wondered if getting infrared cameras would let me see anything, and then the camera went dark, leaving me to fantasize what was going on under the covers.

***

Chapter Three: Upgrading equipment

The next day I went and invested in a new camera, and it was money well spent. This was not only much smaller, making detection more difficult, but the picture was incredible. Once I saw the drastic improvement in the image, the upgrade in TV quality was inevitable.

Now my nightly routine was a vast improvement, although it wasn't what I really wanted. This was how I justified what I was doing, because I didn't want to be spying on my daughter. What I really wanted to do was to jump into my own bed and hump my still very good looking 54 year old wife instead of masturbating while looking at my daughter and her friend.

Instead, I became a connoisseur of my 18 year old daughter's body. I got to know her as intimately as I did her mother's, memorizing every inch of her skinny frame. The first thing I noticed with the new and improved video camera was that Alison didn't shave under her arms.

I'm not talking about forgetting for a few days either, because I was stunned when I first saw Alison raise her slender arms and saw the surprisingly thick tufts of rich brown hair that filled the deep recesses of her armpits.

I'm a child of the seventies, so seeing a woman with unshaven armpits was nothing knew to me. Heck, even Dawn let her pit hair grow during the winter a few times, but even as furry as she was she was no match for Alison, whose underarms were as hairy as any I had ever seen, male or female.

The armpit hair did make Alison look more mature, however, and made me feel less guilty about enjoying looking at her small breast buds. When I got to see Alison without her panties, my theory about her pubic hair proved correct, as my daughter had a very expansive triangle of chestnut brown hair that looked as thick as it was wide.

Alison had turned on the TV and was engrossed in something, just laying on her back naked, and I was preparing to do something to get rid of the cramped condition of my pajama bottoms, or else I would never get to sleep.

Just then, Alison rolled over onto her stomach and reached for something in her night table. As I looked at her, I was struck at what an strange shape she had. Her measurements had to be something like 32-26-42, and the pear shape of her body was never more apparent then when I viewed it from behind like that.

I thought for a second that when she began to return to laying on her back that I saw hair in her ass crack when her ass cheeks had briefly opened up, but it might have been shadows. All that was forgotten when I saw what Alison had fished out of her night table.

It was a vibrator, much like the one Dawn had, only hers was purple and was undulating and vibrating when Alison went up to her knees and plunged it into her pussy.

My daughter knelt on the bed and straddled the vibrator that she clutched upright in her fist, humping it as she eyes rolled back in her head. I had gotten to my feet during this, although I didn't remember doing it, and was standing in front of the TV, ejaculating into the sock I had slipped over my erection to contain the mess while Alison gyrated on the bed.

It all seemed so right; Alison alone and lonely, with no boyfriend and her girlfriend who may or may not be her lover not around, and me, a man equally alone and lonely, pleasuring myself.

It took Alison almost ten minutes to orgasm, and by that time my 56 year old cock had actually come back to life a little bit, so aroused was I by the show my Alison was giving me. The way her lithe body contorted on that toy was so erotic, and when her free hand came up to massage those tiny sprouts my knees were shaking.

Then she fell backwards onto the bed, wildly working that thing into her pussy, and with her legs spread wide for the camera I could see that her bush did extend way down into the crack of her ass. The sight of that made my groin tingle and I actually shot out a little cum as my Alison came herself, her lithe frame thrashing wildly about before her body went limp on the bed.

I turned off the TV and cleaned up after myself, hoping that Lois would pay a visit soon so that my new equipment could really shine.

***