Incest
2004-02-21
After about 12 months of this, Brooke had had a few boyfriends – nothing special or long term, just the usual teenage thing. At this stage we had taken to going for walks together after dinner, sometimes sharing a beer as we walked, and just having a nice chat – nothing weird or kinky, just perfectly innocent conversation. She told me about how she felt about her current boyfriend, how far she’d gone with him, how far she was thinking about going etc. “You know, Dad, this guy is the first guy I’ve considered giving a Blow Job,” was one of her comments after one of her longer relationships. Whether she did or not with that guy, I don’t know, but the relationship ended soon after and she hooked up with a new boy friend who she fell head over heels for. Needless to say, after a month or so, the conversations became even more interesting!I did enjoy the companionship, even though I knew that I was using Brooke as a substitute for the company of my wife, whom I hardly ever saw. The situation progressed to the stage where, shortly after Brooke’s 16th birthday we would often sit in the lounge room after dinner, after the dishes had been done and the other younger kids had gone off to bed, and have a few drinks and a nice chat. One evening we were chatting away and, I must confess, we’d both hit the white wine a bit hard! We’d got on to the topic of her current boyfriend, and how things were progressing there. By all accounts, everything was going well, and progressing steadily. It was most interesting hearing from Brooke how things had panned out, from the first tentative kisses & cuddles about 6 months ago, to the mutual masturbation session last weekend. “I gave him a hand-job last weekend at the party, Dad”, she gleefully told me. “Shit it was messy. He came all over me!”“And what did you think of that?” I asked“Well, I didn’t mind it too much and because he had my top pulled up to my shoulders I didn’t get any on my clothes, but it was all gooey & sticky”, she replied with a grin. “Well, then what did you do?” I asked“Nothing, just got cleaned up and went back to the party”“So, you didn’t go further?”“No. Um. Well, yes, a bit.
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I let him finger me but no sex. I’m not ready for that yet. Soon, I think I will be, but it wasn’t right at the time. Mind you, I could do it now, I think. Where is he? I wish he was here!” she giggled. Obviously the wine was really starting to kick in!We talked for a bit longer about general stuff, then she said she was feeling a bit woozy and thought it would be a good idea to have a bath. I agreed that it would be a good idea, so she got up and staggered down to her bedroom. I watched her as she walked away, noticing with pleasure how well her ass filled her tight jeans, how good her slender long legs appeared inside their denim covering, the nice hips tapering up into a nicely pinched waist, then filling out again to wide shoulders. My little girl was certainly turning into a stunning young woman. Mind you, whilst I could look at my daughter and appreciate her figure from a male’s point of view, I only felt a wave of fatherly pride toward her. No lustful thoughts crossed my mind at all. Honestly! Even with the wine in my system!Anyway, I turned my attention to the rubbish currently playing on the television. Having decided that there was nothing worth watching, I was considering putting on a video when I heard a thump and a muffled cry from the bathroom. Immediately I walked down the passage to see my daughter slumped against the wall, wedged in between the bath and the hand-basin, giggling and with a silly grin on her face. “You’ve got me so pissed, Dad, I fell over trying to turn the taps on,” she giggled.
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“Are you alright?” I asked“Sure. But I think I’ll need your help”, she replied. I helped her up and she fell against my chest for support. “Why don’t you sit down there and I’ll run the bath for you before you fall over again”, I suggested. “OK. Good idea,” she said. She sat on the edge of the bath and I ran the water. “Bubbles?” I asked“Who are you calling ‘Bubbles’?”, she giggled. “Do you want bubbles in the bath, you bloody idiot?” I joked back“Yes, please”, she replied with a smile. I squirted a generous amount of bubble mixture into the bath, swirling it around until the bath was full enough. “OK now?” I asked. “Yes, thanks, Dad”, she replied. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then”, I said and returned to the Lounge Room. I resumed my position in front of the TV, flicking aimlessly through the channels in the vain attempt at finding something worthwhile to watch. No luck.
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After a few minutes, I realised that if I wasn’t able to get to the toilet soon, I’d probably make a real mess! I held off for as long as possible, as the only way into the toilet was through the bathroom, and Brooke was still in there. But, eventually I had to give in to nature’s urgings and went back up the passage. I knocked on the door. “Yes?” came the reply“Sorry, mate, but can I come in?”, I asked, “I have to go to the toilet, and if I don’t right now…. ”“Sure, that’s cool”. I went in, expecting to see Brooke luxuriating in her bath, with bubbles up to her chin and covering everything else. I was somewhat taken aback by the fact that she’d let all the water out and was lying in the bath, totally naked, and making no attempt to cover anything. “Oh my God, I’m s. . sorry”, I stammered, averting my eyes and making a dash for the toilet door. Safely behind it, I asked “What are you doing?”“I was just lying here for a while thinking about having a quick shower”, she replied. “OK then”, I replied, trying vainly to purge my mind of the magnificent sight I had just seen.
The image of her naked body, flushed and glistening with water from the hot bath, with her wonderfully pert breasts jutting proudly from her chest, her flat stomach with that very sexy belly-button piercing, down to a startlingly lush growth of pubic hair nestling between her magnificent and slightly parted thighs was burned into to my mind’s eye indelibly. “Control yourself, you deviate”, I told myself, trying to get my emotions (and my heart) under control. Anyway, I finished my business and flushed.
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“Are you going to get into the shower?” I asked. “I want to come out”. “OK – Hang on”, she replied. After a few minutes I heard the water running. “OK, Dad”. I opened the toilet door and walked with almost indecent haste to the bathroom door, knowing full well that Brooke was only centimetres from me and hidden from view by nothing more than a flimsy PVC shower curtain. I made a conscious effort to keep my head and eyes directly ahead, not trusting myself not to try and steal another peek at her through any convenient gaps in the shower curtain. I made it safely to the bathroom door, opened it and paused. “All set, sweetheart?” I asked“Yes thanks”, she replied, and I went into the passage, firmly closing the door behind me. I paused for breath and some reflection. “She’s drunk. She didn’t mean anything. She probably didn’t even realise she’d done it”, I thought to myself. “You’re drunk, too. Pull yourself together”I went back to the lounge room, turned off the TV and jumped on the Net.
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Soon, I had found one of my favourite porn picture sites and was flicking through the images. It was not until I’d been through a few that I realised I had been unconsciously comparing the girls on the screen with my daughter! Oh dear. I was about to switch to something which would get my mind off the image of Brooke in the bath when she came bounding in – all hot & flushed from the shower. She stood there for a little while – it seemed as if she wanted to give me a chance to have a good look at her in her PJs. She was wearing nothing but a small pair of boxer shorts and a short green singlet. I couldn’t help but admire her long smooth legs, nor could I avoid noticing the way her nipples were clearly visible through the thin material of her singlet. “I feel much better now, Dad. I needed that and now I’m going to bed”. With that, she came over to me and bent down to give me a good night peck on the cheek as was customary. She said nothing about the images on the screen, but I knew she’d seen them. She stood up, turned, and walked out of the room. As I admired the view as she walked out of the room (noticing for the first time what a great ass she had), I thought “What the hell is going on here?” She never wore anything that revealing in front of me – usually wearing a T-Shirt & long pyjama trousers around the house, changing into something cooler (if it was warm) in the privacy of her bedroom just before retiring. I shook my head to try and clear it, and then returned my attentions to the computer. After a few minutes I realised that I had no real interest in anything on the screen and, as it was past midnight, should probably go to bed. I turned off the computer and went to my bedroom.
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My wife was fast asleep (as usual) – nothing short of a Thermonuclear Explosion would wake her. I then remembered that I hadn’t put the two dogs to bed and knew that I’d have to hunt for them. This was a nightly ritual as they usually managed to snuggle into bed with somebody and I’d have to get them out. I found one dog in bed with my wife, but the other wasn’t with either of our young sons. Therefore, he had to be with Brooke. I went into Brooke’s room and looked for the tell-tale lump under the bedclothes. Sure enough there it was. I slid my hand under the bedclothes (nothing unusual here, as I said this was a nightly ritual with one or more of the kids!) and grabbed the protesting terrier. As I dragged him out, my hand rubbed against Brooke’s thigh, once again – nothing terribly unusual, but tonight it felt as if an electric shock had passed between us. She sighed softly and rolled onto her stomach. I herded both dogs into their beds and shut the door. Now, this is where things started to fall apart. Almost of their own volition my feet carried me back to Brooke’s room, when I’d originally planned to head to my own. Soon I found myself standing near the head of her bed (she slept in the top bunk – why she’d want to sleep up there when she could have slept on the currently empty lower one, I don’t know) without really knowing why I was there, but knowing that I had no real reason to be there. The room was dark – the only light coming through the doorway from the passage.
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After just standing there and watching her for a while, I slowly slipped my hand under the covers once again and gently stroked the back of her thigh.
It was so smooth and firm, I couldn’t believe it. She sighed and wriggled around a little but that was all. For the next few minutes I gently stroked the back of both her upper thighs, luxuriating in the feel of her beautiful skin and tight muscles. Soon I began to rub her ass as well, rubbing my hand from one thigh over her ass to the other leg. Her breathing had deepened a bit but this was the only hint of a reaction from her and, thus encouraged, I became bolder. I slipped my hand under the waistband of her shorts, immediately noticing that she was wearing one of her skimpiest G-Strings (I also did the family washing every week, so I was aware of what underwear she had). I cupped my hand over one of her ass cheeks, feeling amazed at the smooth perfection of her skin and the rubbery texture of the muscles underneath. She really had a perfect ass. I slipped my hand under the string of her underwear and rubbed my hand gently all over both her ass cheeks. Her breathing had deepened further, and she let out the occasional soft sigh. This continued for a few minutes – I think we were both enjoying the intimacy and the feel of skin on skin, even though not a word had passed between us. Soon, I raised my hand slightly, pulling her shorts and g-string away from her backside and down her legs. She raised her hips to make this exercise easier for me, pulling her legs up too so that I could slip her pants & g-string completely off. Once she was naked from the waist down, Brooke stretched her legs out straight again, lying on her stomach.
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I rubbed my hand slowly back up her magnificent legs and onto her bare backside. It was wonderful. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I attempted to pull the bed covers back so that I could see her. She wasn’t having any of that though and with one smooth movement grabbed the covers and threw them back over herself. However, she made no attempt to stop me from massaging her lower body. I continued to rub her ass and the backs of her legs. Despite her unwillingness to reveal herself completely, I was somewhat encouraged by the sweet aroma of her arousal which had wafted out from under the covers. As I rubbed my hand up and down her legs she voluntarily parted her thighs, giving me clear access to her teenage pussy. I slowly moved my hand up her legs to the junction of her thighs and gently rubbed a finger up and down her outer lips. They were so warm and so incredibly soft as well as slightly damp from the juices which were evidently starting to flow down in the depths. Brooke’s breathing had become very slow and deep, and she let out a small moan from time to time as I gently rubbed her pussy lips. She parted her thighs further and, almost by accident, my finger gently slipped into her cunt. “Oh my fucking God”, I thought. I pushed my finger in deeper, feeling amazed by how warm and moist her cunt was. Correction, it wasn’t warm – it was almost hot.
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I gently rubbed my finger back and forward, finger-fucking my gorgeous 18 year old daughter. There was no resistance from a hymen that I could feel – she’d obviously torn it earlier on, either through masturbation or her use of tampons, or her boy friend had fixed it last week when he’d fingered her. Brooke was so hot and so wet that I couldn’t believe it. Her pussy muscles closed tightly around my finger as I slid it back and forth. She was now letting out small and quiet whimpers of pleasure. I wish I could have seen her face properly, as I’m sure I would have seen a smug and/or contented grin on it. Withdrawing my finger, I worked my palm under her hips so that I could reach the front of her cunt with my fingers. She lifted her hips very slightly to give me easier access and I began to gently massage around her clitoris with my fingertips. She let out a small, but extremely sexy, whimper of pleasure. Meanwhile, I slid my other hand under her chest and started playing with her left boob – gently squeezing and rubbing the fully erect nipple…. Unfortunately, at this point there was a loud thump from the master bedroom – the book that my wife had been reading before falling asleep some hours earlier had fallen to the floor. This jolted me out of the somewhat trance like state I had gone into and I immediately withdrew my hands and bolted from the room. I checked on my wife who was still asleep. Even though I had serious reservations about the whole situation, I returned to Brooke’s room in the hope of continuing where we’d left off. I reached under the covers again to find that Brooke had put her boxers back on.
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Evidently, she’d come to the same conclusion that I had about what was going on and gently pushed my hand away. I left her room, went to mine and went to bed. However – what might have happened if the book hadn’t crashed to the floor? I thought it might be fun to continue with “what might have been, if only …” Part 2 to follow shortly! (if the readers want me to).
