***Everyone in this story is 18 or over***
My daddy is a carpenter by trade, and most of the furniture inside and outside of our house was made by him. I'm sitting at a custom desk he built for my sweet sixteen. Its large and made of a darkly stained wood, with three deep drawers on each side of my chair, and a wide, shallow drawer under the workspace. I've gotten a lot of use out of it in the two years I've had it, because not only do I do homework on it, it also has a 3' x 3' mirror on the right side at a diagonal to the corner, so I do my makeup and hair here as well.
I sit at it now, with a notebook in front of me with a list of stuff I'll need to pack for college written down, but I'm having trouble focusing. My first day is only a couple months away and I'm panicking slightly. All of my friends rant and rave about the joys of sex and always ask me when I'm going to get my V-card punched. I tell them that it doesn't really interest me much, but that's a lie. I think about it often, and hate that I'll be going to college without having experienced it.
I'm distracted now and look out the window to see my daddy cutting the grass. Its Sunday and his self-appointed yard work day. He pushes the mower carefully across the yard, getting the lines just right. He's shirtless and wearing shiny, green workout shorts and his white sketchers. He's a really hairy man, with a thick jungle of salt and pepper on his chest, darker hair on his belly. The thickest portion between his beefy pecs is more salt than pepper. His shoulders and upper arms are smooth, but his forearms, hands, and legs are hairy. I call him my Big Bear because he's well over 6' tall and big and soft like a Teddy bear. He's a few pounds over a "dad bod" but it works well with his height.
Our relationship has always been just like any other close daddy and daughter. He's my knight in shining armor and my protector. He'd kiss my bumps and scrapes when I got hurt, holding me and comforting me and repeating soothing and loving words. Growing up, he enthusiastically had tea parties with me and gave me horse rides on his back. I wasted so many bottles of nail polish on his fingers and toes over the years, and broke many hair ties playing salon with him. He was always down for whatever scenario I wanted to play out with him. I'm the youngest and only girl in the family besides my mom, so I get almost anything I want from him, though I loved him too much to abuse it. Whether it be toys, clothes, trips, sweets, etc., I got it. I even got his straight black hair, which reaches to my butt, his slightly upturned nose, and his bold eyebrows with long lashes framing icy blue eyes.
I hear a knock on my door and my mom peaks her head in. "I'm going to run some errands honey, wanna come with me?" I turn to see my mom and her sandy, curly hair that my three older brothers inherited, though they got daddy's size and boyish looks. She is thin and toned, which I inherited.
"No ma'am, I need to get this list together and start planning how I'm going to pack everything," I say with a overexaggerated sigh.
"Okay, I'll be back in a few hours then." She walks over to the window to see daddy outside. "And make sure he doesn't stay out there too long, it's a little hot today do be doing yard work."
"Sure will," I say, chuckling. "Drive safe, love you!" She kisses the top of my head and leaves, and I turn back to the window to watch daddy.
My mind returns to how good looking and manly he is, and a tingling builds between my legs. I slip my hand into my shorts to finger myself as I think about my feelings for him. The shift in our relationship, at least for me, started during a ski trip on my 16th birthday. There was a moment we shared on the slopes that made me re-evaluate my feelings for him. My adoration turned to lust, and I knew I wanted my daddy to take my virginity, I wanted to feel him hold me in those long, beefy, hairy arms as he made love to me. So for the next two years until now, I spent a lot of my free time learning about my body and about sex in general. I started watching porn and playing with myself to release the confusing feelings I was having. But it never failed, any video I watched, I pictured myself as the girl getting plowed by my daddy.
I imagine a fantasy where I take him a cold drink out to the yard, but instead of taking it from me, he knocks it out of my hand and pulls me to the grass before fucking me right in the middle of the yard. I'm on my back with my legs pinned back as he eats me out before pulling his shorts down and sliding into me. I just know he has a big one, his size alone hints at it.
A thought hits me then, a plan forming in my mind to lose my virginity before college, but it will take careful planning and finesse to see it through. The chances he would take my virginity were at an all-time high since I was now legally an adult. I'm sure I can persuade him if I framed it in the right context, just as I can persuade him to do almost anything else.
I run to the closet and put on a skimpy bikini, one I just bought for college, and run outside after grabbing a towel. Daddy is still out here, but now skimming the grass clippings from the pool. I put my towel in a chair and greet him as I stand at the edge of the pool.
He gives a comical double take when he sees what I'm wearing. "Isn't that bathin' suit a little revealin', Heidi?" His voice is fatherly with that deep, thick, southern drawl, and his expression slightly disapproving. However, the thirst and hunger barely held back in his eyes is unmistakable.
"Maybe," I say, shrugging, "But I can't keep wearing those old, frumpy, singlet suits anymore can I? I would die of embarrassment!" I gesture to my overall figure, "A body like this shouldn't be covered up, should it?" His only response is a slow, disapproving shake of his head before he returns to skimming. I laugh at him and dive in, relishing the shock of cold against the heat of the day.
I spend a while talking to him about this and that, while also playfully grabbing the skimmer and splashing him. He makes vague, playful threats about seeing what will happen if I continue, making me feign fright and turning to dive under the water, making sure to push my butt out more as I do.
Later, as he returns the skimmer to the shed, I yell, "Good! You're done, now get it! You look hot!" And he does, in more way than one.
"Incoming!" He runs from the shed and does a cannonball right beside me.
"Hey! Watch it!" I splash him with indignation when he comes up laughing.
He says it's payback time for the splashing earlier and chases me around the pool, making me squeal with laughter as I run away. After a short chase I let him catch me and wrap his arms firmly around me, pinning mine to my sides. Laughing, I lean back into his chest and let my ass push a little bit into his crotch, and then I feel it.
"OMG that's his penis! Right there on my but cheek! It feels kinda big, too," I think. But we don't stay in the position for long. He says it's time to get out, kinda abruptly. I can see a blush on his cheeks that has nothing to do with the heat. I have a little more hope this will work.
---
Over the next couple weeks, I'm a lot more touchy with him. I give him more hugs with accompanying cheek kisses, but at the same time, pressing my boobs into his soft belly and chest. When my mom isn't around, I go without a bra, not that I need one anyway because of how naturally perky my B-cups are. Through the thin fabric, my nipples are clearly. During our snuggle time in his recliner, I get a lot closer and rest my hands on his arms, or on his thighs, but far away from his crotch, because I don't want to overstep and ruin any progress I may be making. I tell him more often how much I love him and how much I will miss him when I got to college, trying to butter him up. A part of me hates that I'm being so manipulative, but another part says shut the hell up and get in his pants. I know I'm getting some sort of reaction from him by his frequent blushes and quick looks away when I catch him looking at my butt, or my boobs.
---
One night, after mom went to bed, we sit in his recliner together, watching some irrelevant show. I sit sideways and my legs are on top and laid across his lap. Time to see how far I can get. "Daddy, can we talk about something important? Something sensitive." I put on my most innocent, disarming voice, with matching puppy dog eyes.
"Yea Bunny, anything."
I smile when I hear his nickname for me, remembering the first time he used it when I was four or five years old. I had asked him why he called me that, and he had said it was because I was small and cute and cuddly like a bunny rabbit. From then, I became his little Bunny. The name gives me butterflies now. I put on a nervous expression and look away from him like I can't continue.
"You okay baby? You're lookin' scared to tell me something." His dark eyebrows knit together under his boyish bangs. He grabs one of my hands and squeezes it reassuringly. Electricity travels from where his large, hairy, calloused hand holds my smooth, delicate one, all the way down to my pussy.
I open my mouth to respond, close it, then open it again before he cuts me off saying "Whatever it is, I promise I won't get mad. You know that, Bunny. You can tell me anything." He smiles that sweet smile that always melted my heart, the skin around his eyes crinkling, and a pleasant heat joins the tingles between my legs.
"Well," I say. "It's just that all my friends are always saying how good sex is, and I've never experienced it. And I'm going to college soon and it just makes me sad and upset that I'll be going naïve and clueless." I slump my shoulders and sniffle a bit for added effect. I look away again, embarrassed.
"Oh." I know I took him off guard, and he doesn't know what to say for a few seconds. "Well, uh, I'm sure you'll find the right person to, uh, help you with this, um, particular milestone." He looks flustered and his cheeks get redder.
"Oh, forget it." I say huffing. "This isn't a conversation I should be having with you, daddy. I'm sorry."
He shakes his head as if trying to knock something loose. "No, no, if you want to talk about it, I'll do the best I can to help explain or whatever. I thought your mama had this talk with you years ago?" He phrased it as a question and he has a mildly confused expression.
