For as long as I can remember, we've been spending our summers at the beach. We'd rent a beach house, and try to stay for an entire month. Last year was no different in that respect, but summer at the beach took on a whole different meaning last July.
My wife Brenda and I have been married for 21 years. We're both still active - cycling, running, weights. Brenda, my wife, is 5'9", 120 pounds - she's long, slim and buff. Her black hair falls to her shoulders. She's got a tight little butt, and you'd have a hard time believing she's had 2 kids or that she's 39 years old. Her breasts have always been a little too big for her frame, but it never bothered me. As she's gotten older, any extra weight she's put on seems to have gone to her chest. She wears loose clothing to disguise her big knockers, but they're in there, jiggling with her every move. Anyway, after 21 years, things have been growing more and more predictable. Sex twice a week, and then like using a template it was so routine.
Anyway, we'd been at the beach for 2 weeks. Things had been great. Weather was fantastic, sun was out every day, kids were getting along. This year, Brenda was leaving early to take Sam back home to start football practice before school started. Sam was 18 and a senior. Big handsome kid. Not real smart but a football scholarship to a Big 12 school was his for the taking. The other consideration was that Brenda only had 2 weeks of vacation this year, anyway. We hadn't been able to have sex for the two weeks, and I felt like I was climbing the walls, but I figured I'd just masturbate after Brenda left.
Darcy and I watched them leave. Darcy is 19. She's a little shorter than her mom - probably makes her about 5'8" or so. Same lithe build but top heavy. Like her mom, but I think she was blessed with an even bigger chest. I never wanted to think much about it, but she often looked like she was carrying basketballs around under her shirt. Guys always stare, and I feel sorry for her for the unwanted attention. She can't do much about it. Every time she walks, it looks like there's two puppies fighting under her shirt. Lots of movement. The contrast was that her hips were slim like a boy's. And her tight little ass had no wiggle to it.
Anyway, we'd all spent the day at the beach as usual, and then Brenda and Sam headed for home. It was at least an 8 hour drive, but Brenda and Sam thought if they drove straight through, they could be back home by midnight.
Darcy and I were going to stay on the beach for the next 2 weeks after Brenda and Sam agreed it wouldn't be fair to penalize Darcy and me since our calendars were open. We'd decided this before we even left home, so there wasn't any protesting when it came time to leave. Darcy and I could rent a car when it came time for us to leave. No problems for anyone.
I was really looking forward to two more weeks. After Brenda and Sam left, Darcy and I walked down to the beach. It wasn't dusk yet, but I could see dark clouds coming in. Without warning, Darcy whipped her t-shirt off, and I nearly lost my breath. She'd been wearing a sensible bathing suit - a one-piece - while Brenda and Sam were there. What she had on now was barely enough material to cover nipples and vagina.
"Like it?" she asked while she twirled around.
What wasn't to like? She was 19. Young and firm. Her breasts were huge - I'm guessing 40Ds - and swayed back and forth, barely contained by the string she was using to corral them. Her butt was only covered by the string in her crack. When she stopped and turned to face me, I noticed the patch of material in front failed to cover the heavy black bush. It was like a bandaid on a beard.
"Mom's such a prude, I couldn't wear this while she was here. You're more easy-going; I didn't think you'd mind." She smiled like an angel. I had no idea.
Fortunately it was growing dark, and no one else could see the nearly naked girl now at my side. I persuaded her to put her shirt back on, and we trudged through the sand to the house.
While I fixed supper, Darcy sat in the kitchen talking to me. She had taken a shower and had put the t-shirt she had on at the beach back on, and it was resting on her hips as she sat. I thought she'd put underwear on as well, but it was soon obvious that Darcy was going completely casual. There was nothing covering her hairy mound. I could catch glimpses of her big black muff every time she shifted. And every time she moved her arms, I could see her titties rolling around under the shirt. She seemed oblivious to my discomfort, and I couldn't believe this was happening. I was actually getting turned on. I kept trying to attribute it to my two weeks without any booty. It was growing more difficult for me to even look in her direction. I couldn't admit to myself that she was the cause of my stiff dick. Not my daughter - no matter how much of a woman she is.
We sat and ate, and the view of her snatch was finally obscured, but those big tits seemed to have a mind of their own. They swayed, jerked and jiggled left and right with her every movement. Her nipples looked as if they were coming through the material of her shirt. At one point during the meal, I dropped my fork. When I leaned over to pick it up, I sneaked a peak at her bush. She had her legs spread and seemed to be taunting me. Was this my imagination? Was I growing crazy? Was she doing this on purpose? Looking back at me was a moist slit, a big juicy clam covered by a thick black entanglement.
A storm rolled in while we ate. Lightning was crackling across the picture window. After one particularly loud bolt hit somewhere in the distance, the power in the house went out. We sat in the dark for a minute while I tried to remember where the candles were. Darcy and I both rummaged around until we found them. Darcy was giggling, and I told her no more wine. She told me she wasn't even slightly drunk, and this would be fun.
We lit three candles and moved to the living room. The room was in shadows. Darcy sat opposite me, and seemed to be constantly squirming. I have no idea what she was talking about. I've tried to remember, but I can't think of one thing she said. Instead, I watched as she moved from one position to another, every few seconds. The shirt rode higher and higher and more and more of her smooth skin was exposed. My dick was on fire. I couldn't remember being this hard in years. I wanted to reach down and beat my dick. I knew it wouldn't take much to give me a release. I felt as if I would explode. I knew it wouldn't, it couldn't take much. Was she teasing me? Was this my fantasy, or hers? I was going out of my mind with desire.
Darcy suddenly stood up, and said she was going to bed. She yawned, and stretched, and again the t-shirt rode up toward her hips, revealing a dark hairy pleasure mound. My cock twitched, and I was afraid to move. My dick was throbbing under my swimming trunks. I hadn't changed from earlier in the day and the confining trunks pressed my dick up against my stomach. I was so horny it was becoming painful. Darcy slowly walked across the room. From where she had sat was less than 10 feet away from me, but she walked slowly, languorously. It seemed to take forever for her to cross the room. It was sensual, seductive. She sashayed left and right in slow motion. The shadows from the candles played across wall. Her shirt would move softly away as she glided quietly and carefully to me, and for brief moments her hairy mound was exposed. In contrast her titties were like bowls of jelly, hypnotically moving left and right. I wanted to grab my dick. It wouldn't have taken much, I knew. I needed the release. But, I kept thinking, "Not Darcy. Not Darcy. This can't be happening."
Darcy stopped in front of me and bent down. She had a hand on each of my knees. She slowly leaned forward. Her cantaloupes swayed forward loosely with the movement of her body. She was fetching, bewitching. She stopped about 2 inches from my face and looked into my eyes. Her tongue darted from her mouth. She licked her lips slowly, delicately. She pouted and puckered. She was so close to me. My hands were on the couch and I grabbed the cushions to prevent myself from reaching out.
"Good night, Daddy," she purred. I was paralyzed. As she leaned in to give me a kiss, our lips met in what I hoped would only be a tender peck. My mind was racing and my dick was throbbing. Her lips parted ever so slightly, and I felt her tongue flick across my lips. Lightning picked that moment to crack across the sky. Darcy was startled and seemed to lose her balance. Her head came back only slightly, but her hands slid forward across my thighs. Her right hand stopped on my hip, but her left hand came to rest on my dick. I exploded in my swimming trunks.
"Oh, my," was all she murmured. My dick throbbed and jerked, and spit out a heavy load of cream against my stomach. Darcy never let go. My eyes were open but unfocused. As the orgasm neared its end, I looked into Darcy's eyes and saw them gleaming. I felt her steadily sliding her hand deliberately up and down on the material of the swimming trunks, trying to pump out every last bit of my spunk.
"No, no," I cried. "I can't do this. Not with you. Not my daughter. It's not right." I jumped up and pushed Darcy away.
The house was still bathed in darkness, and I walked quickly to the bathroom. I peeled off the sperm-filled trunks and took a shower. I needed to think. What had happened? What could I say to her now? Why didn't she back off? Then I knew. Darcy was the seductress, the temptress, experienced beyond her years, and yearning for the forbidden fruit. Me, her father. It was up to me not to let this happen again.
The power was still out after my shower. I heard nothing from the room I supposed Darcy was in, and could see little throughout the house. Occasional lightning streaks gave off little light. The candles had been extinguished. I supposed Darcy had retreated to her bedroom, as thoroughly confused, reluctant and embarrassed to face me as I was to see her. Resigned to an unavoidable conversation in the morning, I padded into my bedroom, and climbed in bed.
In retrospect, I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. As I laid down, the mattress shifted, and Darcy rolled over onto my chest. The vixen had been lying in bed, waiting for me. Her huge breasts pressed against my chest and she rubbed them back and forth. She threw her leg over my groin and began to climb atop of me. I was physically stronger, but she was obviously my superior emotionally. I grabbed her wrists and held them over her head to move her off and away from me, all the while trying to maintain the upper hand. My position was weakened however, with the betrayal of my dick. Darcy's soft tender flesh ministered to my wants. The nipples of her big titties were like sandpaper raking across my chest. I wanted no part of this, but my cock stood straight up in the air and begged to differ. While I tried to pry Darcy off me without letting her know about the erection, I realized I faced an impossible task.
"What, what are you doing, Daddy?" She whimpered, and struggled against me, and fought to have her wrists released. "Don't you want me here in bed with you?" She squirmed and wriggled her body against my own.
"Darcy, you've got to stop this nonsense. What's come over you? You know this isn't right." I spoke the words, but I was losing the conviction. I had both her wrists in my right hand and I was trying to flip her over onto her back. I reached across to push her hip, and instead grabbed a handful of her titty-flesh. It stopped me as if I'd been electrocuted.
Darcy took the initiative and the momentum shifted. She began rubbing her leg against my hip, contacting my rock hard dick with her smooth flesh. Reflexively, I gently massaged the jiggling globe in my left hand. My brain was losing the argument. I heard "No, no, go no further" somewhere deep within the recesses of my mind. And then I loosened my hold on her wrists.
Darcy's left hand came down behind my head. Her right dropped to my cock. I heard her gasp and utter, "Oh, my god" as she tried to get her hand around my girth. My dick must have felt like a burning piece of steel. She pulled my face toward hers. In the darkness of the room, I could make out the beauty I was about to possess. I leaned forward, and the gentle kiss turned needy, hungry. Her mouth opened and our tongues danced. It was carnal, wrong. My hands were overflowing with her tits. It was like trying to grab watermelons. Darcy moaned as we kissed. I massaged her and pinched her nipples. Her hand fluttered along the length of my shaft and then she slowly began to stroke me. I let go of her breast and dropped my hand to her waiting slash. I wanted to know. I touched her clitty and she roughly squeezed my dick. Darcy was sopping wet. She pushed my tool to move me over on my back.
