New Years Eve at Daddy's

I think every dad's dirty little secret is that we are aroused by our daughter's sexuality. Even though we know - as good, supportive dads - that we would never act on it, we can't help but notice as she grows into a sexy young woman. And we hope that she will eventually find a loving satisfying sexual relationship with someone who cares for her as much as we do.

I missed an important part of my own daughter Eden growing up. When her mom and I divorced, I moved from Milwaukee to Chicago for a new job teaching at a community college. The distance was a good separation from my ex-wife, while still being close enough for convenient visits with my daughter. But we didn't plan on Covid.

With the travel and exposure restrictions, contact between Eden and I was limited to phone and zoom calls. And given the standard teenage reluctance to actually say anything informative ("How was school today?" "Okay." "How are things going?" "Fine." "Anything new and exciting in your life?" "Mm.") I missed out on all the subtle things you learn from being in close touch day to day.

When the restrictions were lifted, I was amazed to find that Eden had transformed seemingly overnight from a gangly middle-schooler to a gorgeous young woman. And getting reacquainted was like meeting someone new for the first time. There is regular train service between Milwaukee and Chicago, and when her mother finally allowed her to make the trip unaccompanied, short visits became more frequent. We gradually became closer with summer visits between her junior and senior years in high school.

She turned eighteen just before Christmas. The day after Christmas she took the train down to spend the rest of her holiday break with me. I had planned a small New Years party with some friends, so she brought along the dress she wore to her junior prom the spring before to wear for the party. When I was in high school, prom dresses were long formal gowns. Things have changed since then. Long gowns are out. She and all her friends wore short little cocktail dresses to prom. I saw posed pictures of her and her friends from the dance the year before, but pictures didn't do justice to seeing her wearing the real thing.

She rarely wore skirts or dresses. She was always a jeans or shorts girl, and would raise a fuss any time her mother insisted she wear a skirt for some special occasion like a wedding or funeral. So when she stepped out of her room before the party, I stopped short.

The dress was black and clingy. The skirt was short, ending barely below the top of her legs and the curve of her ass cheeks. For decency it came with a pair of matching panties, but they were hardly bigger than a thong. She wore nylons for the prom but for a party at home she didn't bother, and her long bare legs seemed to go on forever, ending in high-heeled shoes that we used to call come-fuck-me pumps.

The top of the dress wasn't strappy or sleeveless - it was a full top, but with a large oval cutout between her breasts clearly showing off the delicious swelling of sideboob, emphasizing that she wasn't wearing a bra. I tried to not stare but couldn't help eyeing her up and down. I imagined burying my face in that cutout, kissing and licking the perfect skin of her cleavage. Even more disconcerting was the comfortable confidence she displayed, just standing there, letting me look. She didn't appear at all nervous or embarrassed being admired, even by her dad.

The beginning of the party was largely segregated, because the Green Bay Packers were in the playoffs. Most of the men were in the living room with the TV, beer, and snacks. Most of the women were seated around the kitchen table with several bottles of wine. Eden was the only person at the party who wasn't old enough to drink, but the wives in the kitchen took her under their wing. She was mixing white wine with Sprite, and they advised her to drink water as well to fend off tomorrow's hangover.

At one point when I went to the kitchen for refills they were talking and laughing about dating, dances, and boyfriends. When they saw me, they stopped talking and motioned me back out of the room. "This is girl talk, go away." She seemed to be in good hands.

The party re-integrated after the football game. Everyone grabbed more snacks and drinks. Several of the men clustered around Eden and I was proud how easily she chatted and laughed with them. One of them asked her who she was going to kiss at midnight. She laughed, "I don't know. Probably my dad."

"Yes, but dad kisses don't count," he said. Then he explained that his wife had stayed home because she wasn't feeling well, and asked her if - since he had no date - could she be his date for the traditional midnight kiss. The tradition of kissing at midnight was important. "Just a short one," he assured her.

She smiled. "Sure, why not?"

Drinking continued, and as midnight approached we opened bottles of champagne and filled glasses. We watched the countdown on TV, then everyone shouted, "Happy New Year!" we toasted with champagne, and those with dates exchanged kisses.

I watched as my friend wrapped his arms around Eden and pressed his lips against hers. At that point one of the women, another friend's wife, took me aside. "You need a kiss, too," she said, and I happily accepted. There were a few more men than women at the party, and since everyone was fairly well drunk, a lot of mingling and kissing went on. Just good times among friends.

I glanced over at Eden and saw that the "just a short" kiss had evolved. They were hugging each other closely and kissing deeply, tongues actively engaged. Then another friend tapped him on the shoulder. "Are you going to hog that for yourself or are you going to share?"

The first guy stepped back as Eden wrapped her arms around the second guy and kissed him. Another friend noticed as well and walked over to them. "Are we taking turns?" Eden seemed to be enjoying herself. As I headed for the kitchen for another drink, I heard one of the wives say, "If he gets a kiss, then so do I," and saw Eden eagerly kissing one of the women as several men crowded around to watch.

In the kitchen I got involved talking - and kissing, I'll admit - with a few other friends when my friend Dan came in. Dan was an old college friend from Milwaukee who happened to be in Chicago for the holidays. He suggested I go back to the living room and check on Eden. "You mean about her kissing everybody?" I asked. He confessed that he'd gotten a few kisses from Eden at the beginning, and she seemed to be enjoying it when she started. But now things might have gone further than she planned.

The first thing I saw when I went in was Eden's bare back. Her dress was unzipped to her waist. The hem of her skirt was hiked up above the curve of her cheeks. The guy kissing her was rubbing his hands up and down her spine while another guy fondled her ass. Two other guys were leaning in close watching, and I heard one of them refer to her as a pass-around-pack. Her face, when she turned her head to kiss someone else, showed confusion and fear. Yes, it was obvious her flirting had turned into something she didn't expect.

I stepped up. "Okay, that's enough," I said. "This one's mine, and I'm done sharing. Now back off." I wrapped my arms around her and she melted into me as the guys stepped back. I smoothed her skirt back over her bottom. I slipped one hand inside the back of her dress and found the zipper tab, then slowly slid it up, running one finger against her spine so as not to catch her skin in the zipper.

She buried her face against my chest and whispered, "Thank you, Daddy," then turned her face up to me. I kissed her gently and felt the flick of her tongue. I responded briefly, then put my finger on her lips. "You don't need to do that." She hugged me closer and I could feel her relief.

At least one of the guys apologized to her, realizing things had gone too far. "Sorry," he said, "I guess we got carried away." I sat on the couch and Eden snuggled in close to me while the party gradually wound down and people began to leave.

As the door closed behind the last of our guests, I pulled her to her feet. I tipped her head up for one last good night kiss, and as our lips touched I again felt the flick of her tongue. Suddenly all my resistance faded away. I was only too aware that she was my daughter and, more, that my baby girl had grown into a sexy young woman. I responded to her kiss with tongue, teeth and lips all active, and she returned my kiss passionately. She pressed into me and I could feel myself hardening against her stomach.

My hands found her zipper and pulled it down. I slipped both hands inside the back of her dress and marveled at the feel of her smooth bare skin. She put her hands on my shoulders, took a half-step backwards and looked up into my face. "Is this all right, babygirl?" I asked. She nodded her head. "Yes."

She shrugged her dress off her slender shoulders, and with no body contact between us except for my hands on her back, the dress floated to the ground. She licked her lips, and her eyes begged for approval. This was the moment, I knew. The final moment when I could stop what we were doing. We paused, and seconds ticked by.

That's when the good-dad voice in my head gave up. I slid one hand under the elastic of her small black panties, the only thing she had on, and cupped the smooth roundness of her ass as I pulled her into me. She pressed her bare breasts against my chest and her lips found mine. We kissed for a long time.

She stepped back again and her fingers fumbled with the buttons on my shirt. I brushed her hands aside and they dropped to my pants. She tugged at my belt while I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off. I pushed my pants to my ankles and stepped out of them as my hard cock sprang free. She gasped at the sight of it and wrapped her hands around it.

Her weight sagged against me as she tried to pull me down, but I wanted more for my sweet daughter than a quick hump on the floor. I took her hand and led her to the bedroom. I lay back on the bed with her on top of me. She pressed against my cock and rubbed her erect pink nipples across my chest as we kissed.

I rolled her over onto her back and kissed her neck and jawline. I moved my head down and captured one hard nipple between my lips, sucking on it while I twirled the other nipple between my fingers. She held my head. "Oh god Daddy yes," she sighed.

I licked and kissed my way down her smooth flat stomach. I could feel the heat rising from her, and smell her excitement. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed to a small patch directing me where to go. I took my time, kissing and licking around the target, letting her tension build before zeroing in on her clit with my tongue. I moistened my thumb on her lower lips and then slowly slid it into her like a miniature cock as I lapped and sucked on her clit.

She moaned as my thumb entered her, then the sound changed to a high-pitched mewling from the back of her throat and she raised her hips off the bed, her back tightening like a guitar string. She held my head firmly in place so I could barely breathe as I rasped my tongue against her clit and thumb-fucked her pussy faster and faster. Her breath came in fast little gasps, then stopped completely for what seemed like a long time until...

She snapped forward, her hips slamming down on the bed, her scream exploding out of her as wave after wave of orgasm spasmed through her body. She collapsed back on the bed. When I put my hand near her pussy she pulled back; it was too sensitive for any touch. I crawled up next to her and kissed her and she hugged me tightly.

After a few moments of recovery, she sat up on her knees and straddled me. Lifting her hips she reached for my stiff cock, raising it up and positioning it, lubricating the head with her labia, readying to slide down on it.

"No fucking, okay, babe?" I said. "That would be too much." After a brief flicker of disappointment, I could tell from her face that she agreed with me. While she would have fucked me if that's what I wanted, she recognized the wrongness of what we were doing. She smiled. "Okay, Daddy," she said.

She laid my cock back down against my stomach, then lowered her open lips onto it, straddling it. She began sliding back and forth, riding the sensitive underside my cock like a slotted wheel on a greased rail. "How's this?"

Lying there on my back, feeling the pressure build in my balls, watching my daughter through half-closed eyes as she rode her moist pussy lips back and forth on my cock, her fingers playing with the hard nipples on her small perfect boobs, her eyes looking lovingly into mine, I could only say, "You're the best, babe."

"Are you going to cum, Daddy?" she asked. "Am I going to make you cum?"

The question didn't really need an answer. She could tell by the look on my face and my shallow breaths that I was close. I held her hips to keep her in place, but when she judged the moment was ripe she jumped off me, scooped up my cock and balls in her hands and swooped down with her open mouth.

My cock head nearly filled her cheeks, with just enough room for her to swirl her tongue around it. She bobbed her head up and down on my shaft, stroking it with one hand and fondling my balls with the other. "Cum, Daddy," she mumbled, her mouth full. "Cum in my mouth."

I didn't need to be told twice. The first warm cum spurt hit the back of her throat, as did the second. I could feel her throat constrict as she struggled to swallow before she pulled her face away. The next few spurts hit her square in the face. She continued stroking and milking as the spasms lessened.

"God, Daddy, you got cum in my hair!" she laughed. She sat back, cum running from her lips and chin, dripping onto her chest. Daddy cum, the cum that had made her. She crawled up next to me and we kissed. I could taste my cum on her lips.

+++++++++++++

I awoke in bed alone, the sun filtering in around the curtains. I could hear movement in the next room. I walked out to the living room naked to find her there, wearing only my shirt from the night before, unbuttoned down the front. She was picking up plates and cups scattered around from the party.

"Good morning, Daddy," she said brightly, a huge smile on her face. "Do you want me to make breakfast? Mom taught me how to make pancakes."

"Sounds good," I said. She bounced off to the kitchen. I found my boxers on the floor and pulled them on, then busied myself picking up paper plates, plastic cups, and beer cans. As we sat down to eat, I asked her how she felt this morning, after the night before.

"I feel great," she said, smiling. "That drinking water trick really works if you're going to drink a lot of wine."

"That wasn't what I meant."

She laughed and looked a little embarrassed. "I know. Thank you for rescuing me." She sat back and my shirt, still unbuttoned, gapped open a little more, framing her perfect little breasts with their pretty pink nipples. I had to force myself to tear my eyes away and look up at her face.

"You really should thank Danny," I said. "I was in the kitchen, not paying attention. He's the one who noticed, and told me I should come in."

"Well, thank you to Danny, then. But you're the one who actually did something about it. Is it true what Danny told me?" she asked.

"What did he tell you?"

"That he dated Mom before you did. He told me that when he kissed me."

"When he kissed you?"

"Well, yeah. At the beginning. When it was still fun."

"Tell me," I said.

"Well, first I kissed a couple other guys. Then Danny asked if he could have one, so I'm like, sure, why not? So we kissed for a while, then he says, 'I hope you don't think it's too weird kissing me like this,' and I'm like, 'No, why would I?' Then he's like, 'Cause I used to date your mom, back before she met your dad.' So is that true?"

"Yes, it is," I said. "In fact, I met her at a party at Danny's. After they broke up, I asked her out. So then what?"

"I said I couldn't tell if it was weird until we did it some more, so then we kissed more until another guy wanted a turn."

"And was it weird," I asked, "to french kiss a guy who used to fuck your mother?"

"Besides you, you mean?" A big grin split her face. "No weirder than my own dad eating my pussy and making me cum."

"You realize what we did was totally wrong, right? It's not something a good dad should do," I said. "We both had a lot to drink. It needs to be secret and we shouldn't do it again."

She stood up and came around the table as I turned my chair to the side. She lowered herself to her knees in front of me. "I know. I just felt like doing it. Did you like it? Did I do okay?"

"You did great." I raised my hips off the chair and she slid my boxers to the floor. She leaned forward and began to lick my hardening dick from balls to head. I could feel her warm breath on my skin.

I picked up my phone, and for a brief moment considered opening the video app to capture the sight of my sweet teen daughter's mouth sliding up and down the length of my cock. Again, the good-dad voice in my head stopped me. Instead, I carefully thumbed a text to her mother telling her that Eden and I were having a slow relaxing day and she would be taking a later train back than we had originally planned. A few moments later her mother texted back, thanked me for letting her know, and said she'd be waiting when the train arrived. I set the phone on the table and leaned back to thoroughly enjoy my daughter's sweet sucking mouth.

When she finished with me and I once again filled her mouth with cum, we traded places and I worked her over with my thumb on her clit and my middle finger deep in her pussy, my mouth and tongue on her nipples until she was squealing and moaning and begging for release. I tried to keep her balanced right on the edge of orgasm until she finally tipped over the edge, quivering and screaming as she cummed.

We both took hot leisurely showers, cleaning up before she packed her things. I drove her to the train station. As coincidence would have it, we ran into my friend Dan at the platform. He was returning to Milwaukee on the same train. I watched them board the train together, and wondered what they would talk about on the train ride home. Or what her mother would think at the other end, when she saw her daughter get off the train accompanied by her former lover.

It was a few days before I realized she had taken my shirt she had been wearing home with her.