Sitting at the breakfast table, Herb noticed his daughter, Angel, in a new light. In her father's old plaid shirt and a pair of white cotton panties, she was a sight to behold. She sat demurely and unbeknownst to her, beautifully, atop a barstool at the breakfast nook reading over her homework, double checking it.
Treated to a very provocative glimpse of the tanned and plump flesh of the 19-year-old girl's thighs and panty-covered crotch, Herb shifted in his seat to get a better look. He had always had a thing for chubby women, and as he looked at his daughter, he felt a familiar tingling in his crotch. Angel got up to get her breakfast as her daddy tried to talk himself out of the primal attraction he'd felt in watching her. She reached on tip toes to find a bowl in the cupboard in front of her father. Little did she know the effect it was having on his cock.
"Daddy," she almost whimpered. "Could you help me, please?"
He dropped the newspaper to the table, and in a flash, he was up behind her, reaching over her for the bowl. He savored the feeling of his penis against her plump, sexy bottom. He wondered if she noticed. She turned to face him to take the bowl. She giggled a little "thanks daddy" and fluttered away from him in search of nourishment in the form of her morning cereal.
Half an hour later, a longer than normal shower for Angel brought her daddy to the door to knock and prod her along to catch the bus. She drew the door open, looking like an angel framed in the steam, her robe still slightly open, he caught a glimpse of a perfect, small nipple. His cock twitched. "Honey, uh... get a move on or you will be late, okay?"
She mumbled something about hurrying and scurried past him. He wondered if she was teasing him on purpose. He had wondered the same thing over the past summer. She was infamous for begging daddy for the skimpiest "to die for" bikini and prancing around in it on the patio next to the pool. Her smooth skin, her long legs, her hefty breasts, so firm and full, her plump bottom, cradled in her skirts and slacks as if they were designed with her rear end in mind. She was, in his eyes, the height of sensual female perfection.
She was a beautiful young lady in his thoughts, no matter how much he tried to ignore them, she had become a favorite sexual fantasy, of the most intense kind.
An hour after she'd gotten up, Angel scampered out the door to catch her bus. Riffling through bills, Herb decided he'd rather not bother. With deciding to take a full day off from the office, he defiantly smiled and vowed to stay in his pajama bottoms and robe and lounge till at least noon. He turned the TV on and sat to see Jerry Springer and other assorted annoying programs aiming to insult his intelligence. Turning to his extensive video library, nothing there was challenging him to pop it into the VCR. He went to his room to lay down and read a bit.
Thoughts lingering on his daughter's nice creamy breasts and pink little nipples, his cock was soon in charge of the morning's events. He went to the locked cabinet and retrieved a few hardcore mags he'd picked up in town. Looking to his favorites, he laid back down, drawing his thick rod from his shorts, and started a leisurely tour of London's most brazen whores. Slow, deep blowjobs turned into fantasies of teaching Angel to kiss the tip, to lick his sensitive balls and swallow his hot, thick, daddy cum. Why not indulge the fantasy, right?
A few minutes into this rapturous cloud, he heard the door come open, slam shut, and a very unhappy voice call the community college and reported herself as sick.
Hmmmm... was she playing hooky, he wondered. Rising from the bed, he went to her, covered but straining under his robe. "What are you doing home daddy?" She asked, looking up the steps at her father.
"What are you doing home young lady?" He asked. "Uh... I missed the bus. I didn't know you would be home."
He looked at her and deciding she'd already called in, he let her go to her room. "No goofing around for you then, go and study in your room. We will talk about this later."
