Teaching Sara

Elliot Walsh had never really had incestuous thoughts about his daughter until recently. His wife had left him after ten years of marriage, complaining that he was married to his job, not her, and since he was the one who wanted a child, he could take care of their five year old daughter. So, she packed up her bags, slapped him with divorce papers and after settling on two million dollars in alimony, she left him for parts unknown. He worked twelve to fourteen hours a day at Wentworth, Hastings and Walsh, one of Miami's most reputable law firms, to provide a good life for his daughter; private schools, a nanny, orthodontia, and most recently a new BMW Z4 for her eighteenth birthday. He had dismissed the nanny when Sara turned eighteen but kept the thrice-a-week maid on salary, there was no need for Sara to actually lift a finger around the house, not when he enjoyed spoiling her.

There was no reason why he should be lusting after his daughter. He could still turn heads at the office, after all he was good-looking, six feet two inches and forty-five years old, still had a full head of brown hair with more gray than he really wanted and his one hundred eighty pound frame was still in good shape. In the thirteen years since his divorce, he'd had an on again-off again fling with one of the paralegals in the office, she'd be working late, he'd be working late, he'd bend her over his desk and fuck her brains loose from behind. That lasted for about four years when she started dating one of the other lawyers in the office. He had hooked up with another paralegal from one of the other firms in the building, but when he found out after three years that he wasn't the only guy she was fucking, he dumped her. After that, he just spent his time working. He couldn't really remember the last time he'd had sex or impure thoughts about any woman for that matter. But he had more important things in his life and the most important of them all was Sara.

Over the years he'd watched her grow up over the breakfast table and it wasn't until three months after her eighteenth birthday that he realized just how grown up she had actually become. He couldn't recall when she had actually stopped wearing the frilly little dresses with her Mary Jane's and her hair twisted all up in braids. She still wore the frilly dresses only now they were shorter and had plunging necklines that showed a little too much of her breasts. When she actually got breasts he wasn't too sure about. The Mary Jane's now had three inch heels and her hair was still in braids. But it was the way she wore the dresses, shoes and braids that had him sitting up and paying attention. She now had the body to fill out the dresses. And her school uniform.

He was sitting at the breakfast table reading the morning paper and eating his typical breakfast, two pieces of toast, a hard-boiled egg, and a half a pot of coffee when Sara danced into the room as usual, the buds to her iPod stuck in her ears. She was wearing her school uniform, a burgundy blazer over a white blouse with a burgundy tie, matching plaid pleated skirt that ended four inches from the top of her knees, white tights and a pair of shiny black Mary Jane's. She was cute and petite, only five feet two inches and probably weighed a good hundred pounds if even that, and had his green eyes and his ex's cute little nose and curly blonde hair which she had braided into pigtails that hung over her shoulders, the ends tied with burgundy bows. She wore very little make-up, just a little liner and shadow around her eyes and rose colored lip gloss on her full, pouty lips. He still couldn't figure out where she got her figure from, he couldn't remember his wife looking like that, so he blamed it on good genes, but still...a 32D-22-34 body wasn't something you ignored, even if you shouldn't be looking at it. He could only imagine how many horny teenage boys were lusting after her, and thanks to the dress code, he didn't have to worry about his daughter tempting the boys with her body.

"Morning, Daddy," Sara said as she danced into the kitchen to the beat of Aerosmith in her ears, stopping long enough to drop a kiss on her father's cheek as she passed by the table on the way to the refrigerator, leaving behind the scent of Estee Lauder's Beautiful in the air.

"Morning, baby girl," Elliot said, watching as she twirled away from him, her pleated skirt swishing around her legs. He knew she couldn't hear him, her head was bobbing to the beat of the music and her hips were swaying as she danced around the kitchen like she always did. His ex-wife had been like that, always dancing, and he smiled, at least Sara had inherited a few of her better qualities. He started to turn his attention back to his paper when he caught sight of some bare skin as she did a quick spin before opening the fridge, her hips doing a little one-two as she continued to dance in place. When she bent over to look inside the fridge, her skirt inched up in the back, exposing way too much bare skin. When did his daughter trade her white tights for stockings that came to just the middle of her thighs with little pink bows on the outside edge?

Sara shut the door with her hip and danced back over to the table, a jug of milk in one hand, a box of cereal tucked under her arm and a bowl and spoon in the other hand. She pulled out the chair with the toe of her shoe and plopped down, dropping all of her breakfast stuff onto the table. She leaned across the table to snag a banana from the bowl in the middle, still dancing in her seat to the music in her ears. She shrugged out of her blazer and carelessly let it drop to the seat behind her.

"Take those things out of your ears at the table," Elliot said, reached across the table to pull one of the buds out of his daughter's ear.

"What?" Sara said, reaching up and pulling the second one out, the sound of "Dude Looks Like A Lady" coming out of the buds. She looked at her father and the stern look on his face. "Sorry, Daddy," she said and shut off the iPod, picking up the box of cereal.

Elliot looked at his daughter around the edge of his paper where she sat perfectly poised in the chair on his right side. Her back was straight which caused her large breasts to thrust out from her chest and he could just see their generous swell as they strained to stay inside the cups of her bra behind the clinging material of her blouse. His eyes drifted lower to her tiny waist and even lower to the hem of her skirt that had inched up her thighs when she plopped down, exposing the elastic edge of her stockings. He hadn't seen thighs that sleek or toned since, well, since his wife. His daughter played soccer all through school and the running up and down the field had certainly paid off, in more ways than one. And he would bet anything that her ass was just as tight and toned and her stomach... What the hell was he thinking; she was his daughter for Christ's sake. But daughter or not the sight of that young, tight body made his cock jerk in his trousers and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He needed to get laid and soon. "I do believe tights are the proper leg attire with your uniform," he said, his voice hoarse.

Sara reached down and smoothed the hem of her skirt back in place. She had been wearing stockings with her uniform for the past two months and this was the first time he noticed? The maid did the laundry, not her father, so how would he even know what she wore under her skirts unless he peaked or read her detailed credit card statement each month. "The headmaster sent out a letter last week outlining the new policy to the girl's uniform. We can wear tights, leggings or stockings as long as they are white and our legs are covered beneath our skirt. I put it on your desk, Daddy. And it's going to be eighty-seven degrees today and tights are too hot."

The last woman he'd had a fling with wore stilettos, stockings and raunchy underwear and she was nothing more than just a slut. And his daughter was not nor was she going to look like a slut. "Stockings are not proper for a teenage girl. Go change."

"But, Daddy," Sara said, her low lip quivering. "It's going to be hot today and the other girls are wearing stockings."

"The other girls are not my daughter. Don't argue with me. Go change. Now."

"Yes, Daddy," Sara said, pushing her chair back from the table. Her father was never this stern with her, she was spoiled, but she was never a brat about it. He never complained when she went on shopping sprees, always bought her the latest in hi-tech gadgetry and let her stay up past her bedtime on the weekends. She would never really do anything to disrespect her father or make him mad, either. She hurried from the kitchen and went back upstairs to her room to change into more "appropriate" leg attire. She came back into the kitchen and stopped next to his chair. "Better, Daddy?"

Elliot watched as she lifted up the side of her skirt only long enough so he could see that tights now covered her slender, toned thighs and the curve of her lush little ass. Before she dropped her skirt back down he could have sworn that he didn't see a panty line of any kind. What the hell! Was his daughter not wearing any underwear either?! He felt his cock jerk again at the start of an erection.

All he could do was nod his head. And that was how it had all gotten started.

+ + + + + + + + + +

It was late as usual when Elliot got home from work. There were only a couple of lights on in the house, the upstairs hallway and the lamp in the family room along with the flickering of the television. He rolled his BMW M5 into the garage next to Sara's car and cut the engine, going inside through the kitchen. He could smell the lingering aroma of butter and microwave popcorn in the air and he sat his briefcase down on the table, following the smell into the family room. Sara was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, a bowl of popcorn between her crossed legs and a bottle of diet Coke next to her hip. She was totally engrossed in the movie she was watching on the HD plasma screen, laughing as something funny was said or done. He flipped on the overhead light.

"Hi, Daddy," Sara said, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"Is your homework done?" he asked as he walked across the room, tugging on his tie until the knot came loose. The rule held strong in junior high as well as in high school, she had to have all of her schoolwork done before she could ever watch television. She may challenge him from time to time but she never disobeyed him. The rules were there for a reason and he made sure the nanny had enforced them as well.

"Uh-huh," she answered, reaching into the bowl to scoop up some popcorn, popping it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. "Got an A on my trig test yesterday."

"Good for you," Elliot said as he sat down on the couch, his knee brushing her shoulder. He'd had a long day preparing for an upcoming trial and all he needed was a little rest. He sat back on the couch, stretching his arms out on the back of the cushions, looking at the TV screen. He didn't particularly care for romantic comedies but Sara liked them so he closed his eyes, listening rather than watching.He didn't know how long he had been dozing when he was awakened by the slight shifting of the couch when Sara sat down on it, snuggling back into the cushions.

He looked over at her; she was still watching the movie, too enthralled to actually notice that he was looking at her so he just let his gaze wander. She had on a pair of white boy shorts with little pink daisies scattered all over them that showed off the sleek length of her tanned legs and a white and pink striped camisole that hugged her torso. When she crossed her legs Indian style, the material of her shorts was pulled taut over the crux of her legs and he could see the outline of her vulva. It had been too long since he'd had his cock buried so deep inside a woman that felt his cock jerk in his trousers at the very sight of a fully covered crotch and he quickly drew his eyes upward. But that was only the half of it. His height held some advantage, it gave him a clear view down the front of her top and he took full advantage to look his fill. She wasn't wearing a bra and he could clearly see the deep cleavage between the round, firm globes of her large breasts poised so perfectly on her chest. The coolness of the air-conditioned house had her nipples hard and they pressed against the tight material in two little hard points.

He had to fight all of his urges, and fight hard when all he wanted to do was touch her. He wanted to lower his hand and brush it against the side of her breast, squeeze her little nipple till it hardened even more and she started to moan. He wanted to slide his hand up and down her smooth thigh, stroking higher and higher until he had his hand between her legs, stroking and fondling her until her shorts were soaking wet and her hips started to buck wildly. He wanted to put his mouth...

"Good night, Daddy," Sara said as she leaned over and kissed his cheek before she got up off the couch.

Daddy? Oh, God he was doing it again. What the hell was he thinking? She was his daughter, his only child, his pride and joy not some cheap piece of flesh for him to lust after. He ran his hand over his face, turning his eyes away as she walked from the room so he couldn't see the jiggle of her breasts or the sway of her hips when she walked.

He sat there in the family room, feeling like a pervert for ogling his own daughter, but God she was so ripe, so firm, so what he should not be thinking about and thinking about her had given him the start of an erection. He could feel the blood pumping through his cock. It was only partially hard, much like it had been this morning when he saw Sara's legs in those damn stockings. He would sit here for as long as it took for his erection to subside, it had gone back down on his way to work, and it would again. Could one go to hell for getting even a partial erection from staring at their own flesh and blood? But starting was better than actually touching, right?

Elliot half-heartedly listened to the news on the television before he grew tired and searched the family room for the remote, Sara was always so good about mislaying the damn thing and he usually had to walk over and shut the TV off by hand. He found it between the cushions and pushed up from the couch and shut the lights off as he made his way upstairs to his bedroom. He turned off the light in the hallway, making his way down the balcony in the dark.

Sara's light was still on in her room and shining brightly in the darkness between the two inches of space that the door stood ajar. He reached up to knock on the door, to bid her a final "good night" when he stopped. He was under the cover of darkness, just a few inches from her open doorway. The light shined past him, rather than right on him, so she couldn't see him. He would take a quick peek, just check on her like he always did before he went to bed. There was nothing wrong with that was there? He stepped closer to the door and careened his neck, looking inside her bedroom.

Sara was standing in the middle of her room three-quarters of the way facing the door; probably looking in the swivel mirror she had standing in the corner. He watched as she slipped her thumbs under the waistband of her shorts, slowly easing them down over her shapely ass and hips, bending over as she pushed them the rest of the way off her sleek legs before stepping out of them. She straightened and he felt his cock jerk hard in his trousers. Oh, fuck! She had on the skimpiest pair of panties that he had ever seen! A very narrow pink string held her panties to her hips, a tiny pink cotton triangle barely covered her smooth vulva let along her labia, and a narrow string went right between the cheeks of her ass. He was right. She had the tautest, firmest ass he had ever seen and it curved out from her backside in a nice little arch. He felt his cock jerk as it started to fill with a sudden rush of blood and he swallowed hard as he stared at her lovely, naked ass.

He drew his gaze back up as she crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed hold of the hem of her camisole and pulled it up and over her head. His eyes followed suit. Over her tight little belly, all nice and tan, over her rib cage to her... Oh God, she had the most beautiful breasts. He sucked in his breath, watching as they jiggled and bounced on her chest from the motion of her arms. They were large, too large for her small frame and they were absolutely beautiful! He only wished he could stare at them all day. They were round and firm, curving perfectly up from her ribcage. Her dark pink areolas were the size of silver dollars and puckered from the cool air in her room. Her nipples were the size of spice drops, extremely hard and jutting out a half inch from the middle of her breasts. He felt his cock jerk again in his trousers, throbbing hard as it strained against the material.

He watched as she shyly brought her slender hands up and touched her breasts, flicking her thumbs over her hard little nipples. Once, twice, then she gave them a hard squeeze between her thumb and forefinger and tugged on them until they stood out even further. His breathing started to escalate when she slowly slid her right hand down the smooth expanse of her body, her fingers slipping under the tiny triangle that left her standing all but naked to his lecherous stare. More of her fingers disappeared into her panties and she stroked herself for a few seconds before she pulled her hand back out. Her fingers were just barely damp. His cock jerked hard in his trousers and he reached down to adjust it to a more comfortable position. It was completely engorged, thicker and harder than it had ever been in years. He stroked the head once through the material of his trousers and felt precum start to soak into his pants. His daughter had just given him the hardest fucking erection in his life and there was nothing he could do about it!

When she turned away from the mirror to walk over to her dresser, which was just on the other side of the door, he quickly took a step backwards into complete darkness and pressed his back to the wall. He drew in a deep breath, feeling his heart pounding in his chest and his cock throbbing in his pants. Oh, God he had to stop this now before he did something he would regret for the rest of his life while he rotted in a jail cell. But she was so beautiful and so off limits that it only made him that much more hungry for her flesh. He pushed away from the wall and quickly walked down to the end of the hall to his own bedroom never turning on a light so she wouldn't be suspicious of his lurking just outside her door like the pervert that he was.

+ + + + + + + + + +

Sara donned a red and pink striped sleep shirt and let it fall to the middle of her thighs and reached up to pull her braids from the neck. She untied the ribbons and pulled the hair bands from each end and untwisted first one plait and then the other, running her fingers through her hair until it lay in soft curls around her shoulders again. She was startled by the sound of the legs on the console table in the hallway scraping against the floor and she walked over to the door and slowly opened it, peering outside into the dark hallway. All she could see was her father's backside as he turned on the light to his bedroom one door down on the other side of the hall and disappeared inside. He must have bumped into the table in the darkness. That was strange. He usually said good night before he went to bed. She shrugged it off. He had to be really tired for him to not stop by her door at least to make sure she was in bed.

She shut off the light and walked over to her bed, pulling back the covers and sipping in between the cool sheets. She rubbed her cheek into the pillow, snuggling down deeper into her bed and closed her eyes. She was just about asleep when she heard a strange noise coming from the other end of the house. It sounded something like a groan. She listened carefully and heard a second groan. Oh, no, her father was sick! She threw off the covers and turned on the bedside lamp, hurrying out of her room and down the hall.