"My Daughter, My Desire, Part One" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawthorne David)

Chapter One

My wife left me because I didn't devote every second of my life to her. She accused me of being a selfish man. Our daughter, Megan, decided to stay with me until she finished high school. Needless to say, my ex-wife was jealous of the father/daughter relationship and the hurtful fact that Meagan had chosen me; all her friends were here and she was in the cheerleading squad, after all, so how could she take off to some new city and home with a mother who never appreciated what she had?

We lived in a nice house in a pretty good neighborhood with a big backyard. The swing set in the backyard was getting old and squeaky. I had spent all weekend lubing it up and putting braces here and there to hold it in place, and painting it in case anyone were to start swinging, which didn't seem likely. One could say I was bored.

Megan walked out of our sliding glass door and smiled to me, letting me know she was home from school and cheer practice and that she was going to change out of her cheerleader uniform, although I must say, that cheerleader uniform did not look uncomfortable in the least.

She came out wearing a new shirt: pink extra small sized half-shirt that showed off her toned abdomen and perky little boobs. No bra, I could see her pert nipples starting to get erect. She wore a white skirt she used to wear a few years ago. This skirt was very much shorter than her cheerleader skirt. I had bought this skirt for her about three birthdays ago, when she was twelve; now it was extremely short since she had grown quite a few inches since then. It wasn't a tight skirt, mind you; it was very loose and had been washed so many times that the fabric was thin, nearly see-through. A slight breeze would have fanned it up exposing what she was wearing underneath.

Why must she torment me with these slinky outfits? I thought to myself. It seemed that she enjoyed showing off her sexy little body to her Daddy, always wearing the skimpiest articles of clothing available.

Oh, don't get me wrong-I enjoyed the flirting and the way she paraded around the house wearing next to nothing.

I had never tried anything sexual with her, though. Not yet. I mean, she was my little girl and there were social mores about such a thing, religious no-nos, as well as a few legal issues here and there.

She cooed: “Hey, what are doing, Daddy dear?”

Her voice was soft and caring, like the sounds a chorus of angels emitted from their gorgeous mouths.

I said: “Just tightening up a few bolts and making sure this thing doesn't hurt anybody.”

The closer Megan came to me, the more I was convinced her skirt was see-through; appeared as if though the sun was shining right through that flimsy fabric. I could actually see the outline of her legs as well as where the inside of her thighs met. And they didn't touch, which left an area that went straight across.

My little girl's pussy.

Does she shave? I asked myself.

Oh, such dreadful thoughts!

“Dad, nobody has been swinging on this thing for a long time.”

She came right next to me and kissed my forehead.

Trying not to look up her skirt, I said: “I know, baby. Guess I was just reminiscing to when you were a little girl. You always wanted me to push you on this damn swing.”

“I loved when you used to push me from behind. Then sneak around front like I was going to crash into you but then you would step out of the way at the last second/”

She laughed; I loved her laugh; it always made me smile no matter what kind of mood I was in.

“I think it's safe again.”

I stood and admired my work and pondered on what she had just said: “push me from behind.” Why must I turn everything sexual? I thought. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Can we try it out!?”

She giggled and sat on the swing.

I just stood there and looked at her skin: her mid-drift, her legs.

“Dad, I can't swing unless you push me.”

I snapped out of my lustful gaze. I moved behind her, placing my hands on her shoulders, and began to push. The harder I pushed, the higher she went; the higher she went the more she sat back in the seat, moving her butt almost off the back.

“Harder Daddy!”

Her skirt was hanging off the back now. It was all slow motion at this point. Like a dream.

“Faster Daddy!”

She came arching, swinging back. I didn't move. I stood right behind her. Megan was almost above me as she reached the end of the back swing and began the downswing. Now her skirt floated back and up and there it was, right in front of my face: my little girl's perfect ass cheeks, panty-less, and within inches of my wide eyes and salivating mouth: white and creamy, two round globes of my heart of heart's desire. The next time she came swinging back, I swear I saw her ass cheeks jiggle and spread and then I saw the most perfect butt hole on earth.

“Holy shit,” I said-I should have thought it, not said it.

“What's that, Daddy?” She didn't wait for my response. “Keep pushing, this is so fun!”

The next time she came swinging back I pushed and the only place to push was her sweet young butt. I tried to place my hands on the outside of her skirt. I missed. My hands landed squarely on her nice firm ass. I gave my daughter's ass a little squeeze in the process of pushing her forward again. When she kept spurring me on, I kept squeezing her butt and pushing. Now I was purposely making sure my hands went under her skirt and onto the finest ass in the world.

I thought she would freak out. Did she know it was her skin I was touching? Or did she think I was pushing on the outside of her skirt? I didn't want to hurt or emotionally scar my baby; she is everything to me after all.

I had to stop. I was getting an erection and my shorts had a noticeable tenting in the front.

“I'm sure that's enough, Megan.”

“Just a couple more times.” She whined to me with her cute puppy-dog eyes and her babygirl voice: “Plllleeeeease Daaaaaadiiiiee.”

“Baby,” and here I tried to sound fatherly, “your skirt is a little short, and you are giving your old man quite a view back here.”

“I know it's short, Daddy, it's okay-dokay. You're my dad, I trust you. You're the only one I trust.”

I felt just awful, now, but also pleased.

“Megan, you're swinging so high all I can push is your sweet little bottom.”

“I know! I have felt your big hands squeezing my booty on every push. You know what? You are the only guy to ever feel me up, ha ha!”

“I did not feel you up. I was only…”

My head spun.

“Just a couple more pushes, then I promise we can stop.”

She talked me into it. We made eye contact. I could tell she really wasn't upset about my fondling her ass.

“Do you always wear skirts with no panties?”

I grabbed her butt more convincingly this time. Megan let out a little, “hey!” Squeezing as long as I could before gravity took her away, I savored the tactile tenderness of flesh. She has an ass to die for. Next time she came back, I decided to get a little more brazen. Her butt had now slid way back off the seat. I actually saw her cute pink pussy lips this time. I put my hands close together and spread her cheeks apart and gave her a quick kiss on the butt as she stalled for that split second, before swinging forward again. I clearly saw her little girl pussy and butt hole and appeared that she shaved.

“Did you just kiss my butt?”

Her voice wasn't angry or worried. It was more a flirtatious, sexy question that she already knew the answer to.

“I couldn't help it, honey. Your butt is the most beautiful butt I have ever seen. If we keep this up you'll give me a heart attack.”

“I don't want to kill you!”

“Nice to know.”

“Last push, make it a good one!”

When she came back, I caught her and held her above me for a second before letting go. Just a split second. A moment lost in time and time stood still; my hands fondling her untouched, amazingly tight, silky smooth, perky, virginal fifteen-year-old ass. I reached up and gently pushed my little girl's butt cheeks apart, exposing the cleanest, tightest, cherry-intact and most-fuckable butt hole my eyes had ever even fathomed.

I kissed her right on her anus. No tongue. Just a solid planting of my lips on her backdoor. My lips surrounded her unsuspecting shit bud. I didn't know what she would think or do. Gravity took over as her as cheeks left my mouth.

`She had let out a little whimper when I kissed her ass. Letting her go, she swung forward and actually fell off the swing. My kiss must have sent shock waves through her body, causing her to forget about balancing. She was all right, just a couple tears on her face. For some reason, when I see tears, I get turned on. I noticed she had scraped her knee, there just a little blood.

Lifting her with ease up and into my arms, I took her into the house and laid my little angel on the couch, telling her to stay put while I went and got a washcloth, Band-Aids, and some anti-infection cream.

She had a sad face on when I came back.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“I don't know what happened. I accidentally fell off. Is it a bad cut?”

“Not at all.” I used the washcloth to dab the dirt off her little wound. I turned on a light next to the couch and used it to light up her scrapes and make sure I got the dirt out. “Just a scrape, you'll be good as new in no time.”

I cleaned her knee and looked up her thigh to make sure she wasn't cut anywhere else. She noticed my gaze and spread her legs for me, almost exposing her delicate flower of sex.

She said, softly and sexually: “I was in your room the other day looking for a towel and I saw a bunch of magazines behind your pillow. Called Barely Legal.”

I didn't know what to say to that. I gave her a stern look and finished cleaning her up and put a Band-Aid on her knee.

I said: “Hope you aren't offended by the stash of dirty pictures and movies I have. A single man like me can get a little lonely sometimes.”

I glanced up her legs again and saw her shaved pussy. It was hairless and looked tight and tiny. My breath was taken at the sight of her young and pure teen twat. Why did she shave? Who showed her how? I guess when girls get together they instruct. I suppose she shaved for reasons of cheerleading.

“You get lonely, Daddy? That makes me sad. I don't mind if you look at those naughty magazines, or anything else.”

“All set,” I said while still staring at her pussy.

“Daddy?”

“Yes??” I said, looking straight at her perfect pussy lips.

“Thank you. It feels a lot better.”

My view was blocked as she leaned forward and gave me a big hug.

“No problem,” and I snapped out of my trance. “That's what Daddies are for.”

I tried to regain my composure. I tore my eyes away from the nubile valley of ripeness that was between my daughters' thighs. At 5 foot five inches, and 110 pounds, Megan was light and springy, always bouncing and gliding everywhere rather than just plain walking. Dance classes kept my girl toned and flexible-plus all the cheer practice.

I told her I was thinking of getting dinner started and got up and turned into the kitchen in one uncomfortable motion, my cock was throbbing for the first time in years. I hoped she didn't see the bulge in my pants as I got up. Once in the kitchen I was able to feel a little more at ease. As much as I wanted to just rip off her skirt and use my daughter as my sexual playtoy, fulfilling all my forbidden fantasies, doing with her as I pleased, I knew I could never hurt my little girl. I loved her too much to rape her, except in my most vile fantasies when I would masturbate, where I tired her up to the bed and ravished her innocent body all night long.

Am I a bad man? A bad Daddy? Are these the fantasies of a sociopath or a normal male?

Megan said she would stay home tonight instead of hanging out with her friend. “You took care of me today, so why don't I cook dinner for us and let me pamper you all night long.”

I tried to say something but she put her finger on my lips, not letting me resist.

“I just want you to know that you have been the best dad a girl could have ever hoped for.”

Tears welled in Megan's eyes and she fell into my arms sobbing, crying not in pain but with pure love for her father. I gave her a big hug, squeezing her close to me as the strong, conflicting emotions ran through us like a runaway freight train.

I gazed into her innocent big blue eyes, with tears slowly tracing down her cheeks, so true, so real, so unbelievably young and tender. My male animal instincts were becoming more and more difficult to resist.

“So I am yours tonight, Daddy! Your wish is my command. Just consider me your personal slave.”

She gave me a kiss on the forehead and stood obediently in front of me.

“I will change clothes if you wish, master.”

What the hell was she doing, saying? I said: “No 'master' stuff. You don't have to do this.”

Her eyes told me she wanted to, very much.

“But, if you insist, why don't you go and get some of your skirts and stuff. You can model clothes in front of me until we find you some suitable attire for the evening.”

It was at that moment I knew I would go to hell, but at least I'd be damned with a content smile on my sinful face.