Over the next several days, Katie became more and more open in displaying herself to me. She stopped wearing a bra around the house. Each outfit seemed to show off her chest, and the rest of her delectable little body, more than the last. On Monday, she had tight jeans and a t-shirt that was stretched out of shape by her huge boobs. Tuesday, she traded the jeans for a plaid skirt. On Wednesday, the t-shirt was shortened to a midriff-baring piece that ended just below her tits, hanging several inches away from her taut tummy. Thursday, the skirt gave way to Daisy Dukes cutoffs.
Her behavior loosened up, too. Still calling me Daddy, she seemed more dependent than I'd ever seen on getting my approval. "Do you like this outfit, Daddy?" she asked every day.
There was a spring in her step that I hadn't seen in years. That, combined with the increasingly skimpy outfits that she wore, meant that whenever she was in the room with me my eyes were glued to her body. Her lovely blonde hair. Her fantastic, bouncy huge tits on her slim dancer's body. Her taut, toned little waist. Her delectable, wide hips and her perfectly round ass thrusting out behind her. They were all in motion whenever she and I were in the same room, and I couldn't take my eyes off her.
She loved it. Loved having my eyes glued to her perfect little sexpot body. Often, using a flimsy excuse to get something from the kitchen, she pranced across the room, pirouetting as she went so that she could show off every part of herself to me. As she twirled, smiling happily in the knowledge that I was watching, her skirt flew in a circle around her, exposing her gorgeous dancer's legs and her tight ass -- all for me. All mine.
And the outfits! Sometimes she wore gauzy, see-through white blouses that showed off her kissable bra-less tits, while other times all she wore on top was a baby blue bikini top that tantalized as it alternately concealed and displayed her amazing 32F cleavage. Flouncy skirts one night alternated the next night with tight body-length leotards that showed every curve to me.
My favorite, though, was the worn-out old green nightie that she'd had for years. It had been through the washing machine so many times, and had been so worn out by her growing bust that it was completely sheer and stretched to the tearing point around the center of her breasts.
I loved the look of it, loved the way it reminded me of how my little girl had blossomed into a petite sexpot whose hormones had literally made her burst at the seams with sexy voluptuousness.
Katie especially loved wearing her sexy green nightie on nights that she and I watched TV together. For some reason, we both were fans of Gilligan's Island -- I guess the predictable, juvenile stupidity of the show appealed to both of us. On those nights, Katie usually liked to tie her blonde hair up in pigtails in the manner of the show's character Mary Ann while she snuggled with me on the couch.
Up until our recent self esteem campaign began, the Gilligan's Island nights had been a tame business. Katie used to sit at the opposite end of the couch from me, bundled up in her normal shapeless army surplus clothing with the extra covering of a blanket. Elaine, who had more normal adult tastes and claimed to believe watching Gilligan's Island actually lowered a person's IQ, usually retreated to the bedroom to read a book.
Now, though, Gilligan's Island time became a time for extended Daddy-Daughter foreplay. On Wednesday and Thursday nights, one of the cable channels had double features of two Gilligan's Island episodes back to back. Obedient, subservient little Katie, dressed in her short green nightie and pigtails, began by bringing me a cold glass of white wine, then she snuggled next to me on the couch under my extended right arm. She gently took my right hand by the wrist and placed my hand onto her breast, then snuggled deeper into the crook of my arm.
"Am I as pretty as the girls on Gilligan's Island?" she asked me one night.
"Sure you are, sweetie," I answered. I squeezed one of her fantastic breasts -- much more than could fit in my groping hand -- and went on, "Your pigtails are 'way cuter than Mary Ann's. And your breasts are so much bigger and softer than Ginger's!" I squeezed her ultra-sensitive tit for emphasis, and felt her shiver in response. "I like you better than both of them put together."
As the show continued, Katie sought out my hard cock and gently caressed me while my pants stayed on. While The Professor endeavored to make yet another improbable device out of coconuts and bamboo, my fingers teased Katie's nipple through the flimsy nightgown.
Katie's need for Daddy became more urgent. During the commercial, she sat up for a moment and unzipped my trousers and pulled them off, then settled back to lazily stroke my cock while we went back to watching the show. "Daddy," she murmured dreamily. "Daddy Daddy Daddycock. I love Daddycock."
Elaine chose that moment to walk through the room on her way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Along the way, she glanced at the TV briefly to see Mr. and Mrs. Howell blathering about martinis and yachts, then looked over at her glassy-eyed daughter stroking her Daddy in a lust-fueled haze.
I chose that moment to tweak both Katie's nipples as a show for my wife. Katie squealed slightly and spasmed in a tiny orgasm. Elaine smirked at me in approval.
Then I heard a slight ripping sound. It was the green nightgown, finally giving way after years of being stretched to the tearing point by Katie's humongous boobs. My twisting Katie's nipples through the material had finally been the straw that broke the camel's back, creating a hole in the fabric right over the nipple.
"Oh, Daddy! My nightgown!"
Elaine paused as she was crossing the room and came over to the couch. "Sit up, sweetie," she said. "Let me take a look at it."
Katie dutifully sat up on the couch. Elaine knelt on the floor in front of us and examined the tear, hefting Katie's big tit with both her little hands as she did so. "Take a look, Daddy. What do you think?" she asked.
"I'm so sorry this happened," I said to Katie as I bent down to look more closely. Elaine's and my fingers overlapped as we played with Katie's sensitive tits. "Does the tear in the material chafe at all?" I asked.
"No, I . . ." Katie didn't get to finish her sentence as I slipped my mouth over the nipple peeking through the tear in her sheer nightie. I felt one of Elaine's hands on the back of my head pushing my mouth onto our daughter's swollen nipple, while her other hand held Katie's luscious tit up to my lips.
"Daddy, the fabric!" Katie moaned as she weakly gave in to my sucking. "It might tear more . . ." she complained, even as I heard the sound of more threads ripping. The hole was widening.
Elaine stood up. "Daddy will take care of you," she said soothingly. I felt, rather than saw, Elaine take her daughter's trembling hand and place it on the back of my head. Then I heard Elaine's footsteps leaving the room. "Enjoy your TV show," she said, then crossed the room and sat in an easy chair to watch us.
I looked up from sucking my daughter's breast to glance at her face. Katie was staring ahead blankly at the Gilligan's Island rerun. Her hand on the back of my head, then her whole upper torso, began shivering with pleasure. Her fingers curled into claws, clutching my hair and pulling me into her breast. She began sighing and mewling. Then when I brought my hand up to her other breast and started tweaking her other nipple, she began spasming in earnest.
I have never seen a woman with more sensitive breasts in my life. Katie's propensity for cumming just from breast play was astounding -- and astoundingly erotic. "Daddy, my tits," she moaned. "Oh Daddy, my tits! Kiss my big tits! Suck my nipples! Suck me! Suck me! Oh, Daddy, I'm cu--cu--cumming!"
While still keeping my lips on Katie's delicious tits, I managed to turn my head enough to look at Elaine. She was leaning back in the armchair, her hair disheveled and her eyes bright with lust. One leg was hooked over an arm of the chair, exposing her panty-less crotch, which she was diddling as she watched us. Giggling with pleasure, she urged us on: "Kiss her, Daddy! Kiss your daughter's big tits! Suck your daughter's jugs!"
My daughter was in the throes of a non-stop orgasm that lasted for several minutes. As she gripped my head and pulled me harder onto her soft pillows, I could hear the cloth ripping and the hole widening. I sucked harder on her tits and little Katie -- voluptuous little Katie, oversexed busty little Katie, devoted, obedient, horny little Katie -- began shrieking in ecstasy. From the other side of the room, I could hear my wife laughing with vicarious pleasure, coupled with a faint squishing sound as Elaine played with her clit.
The Professor and Mary Ann blathered on in the background while Katie shivered, clutching my head to her nipple. When I brought my hand down to her pussy, slipped my finger into her vagina and gently flicked her clitoris, she began bucking uncontrollably. "Daddy! Daddy!" she screamed. "You're everything I want! Fuck me, Daddy! Oh please fuck me!"
There was nothing I wanted more at that moment than to sink my cock into her virgin pussy. But I remembered the promise I had made to her mother -- no fucking. It was extraordinary -- unbelievable, really -- that Elaine was okay with the fact that I was seducing our daughter right in front of her night after night. Playing with her big, sensitive tits. Teaching her how to suck Daddy cock before bed. Turning our innocent virgin daughter into my personal sexual plaything. Hard as I found it to resist taking that final step of fucking her, though, I had to respect the one rule that Elaine had asked for. I didn't want to ruin the most amazing, sexualized situation I had ever imagined.
Finally I began to slack off on my sucking action. Katie, who by this time was slumped back, slack-jawed, on the couch in an orgasmic daze, slowly came back to awareness of her surroundings.
She gazed at me in amazed devotion. One of her big tits was poking halfway through a hole in her thin green nightgown in an obscene and breathtakingly erotic display of horny disheveled sexiness. "Daddy!" she gasped. "Daddy! Daddy!" Then she saw my erection and lunged for it, engulfing my cock with her lips. She knelt on the couch cushions with my cock impaling her mouth.
I grabbed her pigtails, one in each hand, and began thrusting upward into her mouth. I looked alternately at her beautiful young body slavishly worshiping my cock, and across the room at my smiling, horny wife, who grinned and giggled as she masturbated.
"Suck your Daddy!" Elaine urged. "Drink your Daddy's sperm!" Elaine shivered through an orgasm and then, more glassy-eyed but still, somehow, with that evil, predatory expression, said, "Daddy's cock is so fucking, fucking good, isn't it, baby? Isn't his cum delicious?"
Katie was only able to gurgle in reply. The sound of her gagging happily on my rod -- "Gugg! Gugg! Gugg!!" -- filled the room. She surrendered control of her soft lips and her beautiful face, and I fucked her mouth so rapidly that her head became a blur as it bobbed helplessly on my cock. Still holding one hand on the back of her head to keep her obedient mouth under my total control, I reached down and tweaked her nipples again through the torn fabric. As she shivered in yet another nipple-induced orgasm, I came in her wet, submissive cocksucking mouth.
She swallowed it all. All her Daddy's love. What a good girl.
A few minutes later, Gilligan's Island ended and Katie staggered into her bedroom, dazed from so many orgasms and yet still unbearably horny -- unsated, unfucked. I turned off the TV and reached my arm out to my wife.
When we entered our bedroom a few moments later, Elaine immediately lay face down with her upper torso on the bed while her legs were bent over the side, presenting her ass to me. Her tits, big by any standards except when compared to our daughter's, were squashed by the mattress and protruded sexily on either side of her torso.
