2 comments/ 90431 views/ 21 favorites A Father's Desire By: mikeaday Thanks to hkf999 for the edit I live in a nice house, in a great neighbourhood, with my wonderful family. I however am not so nice, I don't mean in a bad way, I'm not violent but I've got a very dirty mind. I have a beautiful wife and three great children, all girls. When I say girls, I mean young women. Two of my girls are twins they're 20 now and the oldest is 25. All of them are still at home. My wife Cheryl looks after the house well and still looks fine for her age. This is a story from a few years ago. Donna and Kate decided to go to a party. They're my little twins and I still can't believe the stuff they wear. They were 18 at the time and dressed like little sluts. I had to pretend to hate their clothes and the more I objected to their choices the wilder they became. Donna was the more adventurous of the two and was quite wild. She had long black hair with pink highlights. This night she had it fanning her face and her bob half covered her eyes. She had on a pink tank top with a white bra underneath. Her bra was so visible she might as well not have had the tank top on. Half her toned stomach was visible. She had no ring in her navel yet. Her top half was excellent but her bottom was just as good. That night she had on a black mini skirt, further down a couple of inches of bare leg was visible, it looked so smooth. Below this she had on knee high black socks ending in a pair of high heels which added 3 inches to her five foot five size. Kate was very different in style; she had blonde hair that came down past her shoulders. She had a light grey blouse that only slightly showed the swell of her breasts. The material in the blouse was just dark enough to stop it being see-through. I wondered if it would retain its opacity when it was wet. She wore a pair of sand-blasted black jeans. They hugged her ass perfectly, but I had to be discreet when checking her out. She had a pair of heels on as well but they didn't have as much lift as her sister's. Cheryl came out to take some pictures; I must remember to make a copy of those pics. I was lying on the couch still telling them off while trying to get a look up Donna's skirt. The sofa wasn't low enough to allow this. They finally left, swinging their hips seductively. I must find out where they learn that little shake. Cheryl looked over at me watching my girls and gave a little smile saying "they grow up so fast don't they." I didn't know whether to take it as a question or a statement. I just grunted noncommittally and let my mind wander. My eldest daughter Marie was out for the night. I decided to seduce the wife while we had the house to ourselves. I called her over then pulled her down on top of me on the sofa. For a woman that has had three kids she still has a fine body. Her breasts pressed up against me covered only by the thin material of my old t-shirt. I ran my hand up and down her ass, her blue jeans so tight I could feel her panties through them. She tried to get off me and drag me back towards the bedroom but I kept pulling her back down on top of me. We fooled around for a while before I started taking off her clothes. My old t-shirt being the first victim, No bra, excellent, saves me the trouble of fiddling with that little clasp. I suckled on her revealed breasts for a while, they were double D's but I preferred smaller. I licked her nipples until I got them hard. "bite them" she ordered. I complied clamping down with my teeth until I got a moan from her. Even when her nipple was firmly secured I continued to tease it with my tongue. She managed to let me loose long enough to get my own t-shirt over my head. I was now lying on top of Cheryl and I moved to take off her jeans. I undid her zipper and reached my hand inside, my fingers running along the front of her panties. I kept going down pressing my fingers harder against her. When I felt her slit I pushed my fingers in deep dragging the panties with them as well. I extracted my hand through the little opening in the jeans and smelled them. After that she undid my jeans fully and took them off. I opened the button on her jeans but just pulled them down to her ankles. Her panties were just plain cotton ones. I resolved to get sexier underwear for her, perhaps a pair for the girls. That thought almost made me cum then thinking about all of them sharing a pair of panties. I laughed to myself, thinking "the sisterhood of the travelling panties." I pulled her panties down to her jeans, then removed my boxers. I moved my dick slowly up and down the outside of her pussy. My hands and mouth travelled slowly up her body. When I covered her mouth with mine I entered her. She gave a soft muffled moan. I started moving within her and she brought her hips up to meet me. We got into a nice rhythm until I was ready to cum. It had been a while since I had given her an orgasm, but tonight was just about me. I could feel the pressure building and knew that I would cum any second. One, two three and release. At the last second I had pulled out of her and shot my load on the couch, some still landed on her pussy. She looked up at me as if to say "what the hell." I said "you can't be too safe." "But I'm on the pill." "It's failed before." "I suppose." "I'll go get some tissues." I headed towards the bathroom to get tissues to clean up the mess. I enjoyed walking around naked, it felt liberating. I got the tissues and headed back to the living room. I looked down at my wife, still lying in the same position. I almost got hard again but I wasn't as young as I once was. "We should walk around her naked." I said jokingly "I'll have a word with the girls and see what they think." was the unexpected reply "Have I told you how much I love you honey," thinking of four beautiful women walking around the house. "ya ya come on and clean up." I went over and reached between her legs, tissue in hand. I wiped her pussy first, then the cushion under her. There was a time when I would have licked her out but it had been a few years since I had tackled that forest and I wasn't about to start now. Perhaps if she got a nice trim, leaving a little landing strip I might reconsider. When it was all fairly dry, I took her jeans and panties off fully so she could enjoy the freedom as well. As she was walking towards the bedroom, clothes in hand, I thought about taking her from behind but then couldn't be bothered. Cheryl could still sway her hips with the best of them. Maybe that's where the girls learned it. I could imagine the four of them in the room with Cheryl saying "you have to swing your hips like this to get daddy's attention." They would walk up and down the room swaying back and fourth first with their whole body then with just their hips when they got their rhythm. Cheryl would keep her hands on their hips her fingers just above their fanny as she guided their steps. Now I was hard again, and it would be a shame to let a good hard-on go to waste. I caught up to Cheryl just as she was putting the clothes on the bed. I caught a tit in each hand as I entered her. I made sure to enter her pussy as she didn't particularly like anal. She stiffened for a second before relaxing back into my embrace. Again at the last second I pulled out of her and squirted onto her back. I used the pair of panties she had put on the bed to clean up. We both put on out pj's and got into bed. Cheryl took her sleeping pill like she did every night. I watched her sleep for a while, watching her breasts rise and fall before trying to sleep myself. I must have managed to nod off because the next thing I knew I heard the front door slamming. I didn't bother getting up thinking it was just the girls back from their night out. I listened for a minute and thought I heard three voices. I could hear Donna and Kate clearly because they were nearly shouting, the third voice I didn't recognise. I went to the door and finally determined that the third voice belonged to a boy. I thought about going out and busting them but waited to see what happened. Donna and Kate shared a room and I wondered if one of them would sleep on the couch or one pretend to be asleep. Maybe the lucky little bastard managed to talk both of them into having sex with him. They were coming closer; the girl's room was just across the hall from ours. Kate and Donna were still arguing while the boy was silent. It seemed Kate wanted to go into her own bed and sleep while Donna wanted privacy. I listened to the argument and wondered who would win. Maybe Kate wanted to listen in on the action fingering herself as she did. The boy spoke again begging Kate to let them have the room. I moved closer to the door accidentally hitting it. All the conversation outside stopped for a second. I held my breath hoping they would go back to what they were doing. They started up again and Kate finally agreed to sleep on the couch. They must have been well hammered as they weren't being very quiet. I heard the door open and close, then waited at the door for a few minutes more. I quietly opened my door and headed towards Donna's room. I had left the few minutes so hopefully, they would be have some clothes removed by that time. I heard a bang coming from the sitting room and I was torn deciding which door to open. As much as I would love to bust in on Donna, I knew she wouldn't forgive me easily and I had better check and make sure Kate was ok. I opened the sitting room door and saw that Kate had collapsed on the couch. She was lying on her front with those lovely tight jeans showing off her ass. There was a half empty glass of water beside the couch and the table was out of place. She must have hit the table. Her fanny was directly over the spot where I had shot my load earlier. I imagined having her under me instead of Cheryl. I would love to swap myself for those cushions feeling her small breasts pressing up against me. I reached inside my pyjamas to grab a hold of my stiffening cock. I shut the sitting room door to make sure nobody came down the hall. I was now fully hard and had started to rub, when I spotted the glass of water again. I had always wondered if that trick with the water actually worked. You were supposed to put a persons hand in lukewarm water and they would pee themselves. I figured now would be as good a time as any to test out the theory. Kate was in the perfect position to try it. She had her left hand tucked under her while her right arm dangled off the couch. I checked the glass of water on the floor and figured I might as well use that, the water was middling warm. I gently lifted her hand and placed it in the glass. She was turned towards me, her face now just inches from mine. I could feel her warm breath on my face and I breathed in her essence. I wasn't sure how long this thing was supposed to take. When I had dipped her hand into the water she had moved slightly, and I prepared to bolt. I leaned in close, breathing her in. I could smell the alcohol on her breath. I sat up on the little coffee table and just watched Kate sleep. I started to rub myself again, taking my time. I kept switching my gaze between her ass and her face. If she opened her eyes the first thing she would see is her daddy with his hands down his pants. I considered taking off my pyjama bottoms and my boxers so that if she did wake up she would at least get a good eyeful. I took them down and moved so I would be out of her direct line of sight. I continued to stroke my shaft gently but after nothing happening for about 10 minutes, I started to get bored. I was going to bring myself to completion when I noticed Kate moving slightly. I could see her ass cheeks starting to clench. It started as a small stain, a dark patch against the black material of the jeans. It wasn't long before this stain widened, covering most of her crotch. It was streaming out of her now. One leg was hanging off the couch. The pee was coursing down her leg now some spots darkening where the jeans and the pee met. A puddle had formed under her and another was forming on the floor. I knew that the couch had been through many things but I wasn't sure if the cushions would survive till tomorrow. Earlier it had my spunk on it and now it had a steaming puddle of piss. I was just about to cum when she started to move. She took her hand out of the glass of water and put it back on her ass. It landed on just about the only dry place left; this of course dampened that spot as well. I decided to go to the bathroom to finish up, accidentally forgetting to lock the door. I was just finishing up when I heard the door start to open. I turned towards the door, the last few drops of pee coming from my softening dick. The door opened fully and in walked Kate. Her eyelids were half drooped and she shuffled along. She was heading straight towards me. I called her softly but got no response, she kept coming at a sleepy pace. I moved away from the toilet putting my dick back in my boxers for now. I tried waving my hand on front of her face but again no response. I stood a bit on front of the toilet and waited for Kate to reach it. She reached it and pulled down the inside lid. I wondered would she just pee through her jeans again. I could see where the stains were starting to dry and wondered if this new round of peeing would fill the same spaces or would new traces of the dark stain appear. She faced me again and started to sit, she seemed to remember her jeans. She pulled them down around her ankles; she brought her thong half way down the front of her pussy in the same movement. Her thong was adorable; it was white cotton with little pink flowers dotted along it. I would have to borrow it for Cheryl sometime. It did not fare well from its encounter earlier in the night. While the pee had made the sandblasted jeans a shade darker, it transformed the front of the thong into a strip of fabric that was as transparent as glass. What lay behind looked just as smooth I could detect no hairs as I ran my eyes up and down the highlighted ridge. The thong moved and I jumped backwards, nearly falling over. That would look good in the morning, me lying on the ground with a concussion and Kate sitting on the toilet sleeping. Now that the thong had joined its companion around Kate's ankles, I could see that I was right in my earlier assessment, no hair anywhere, she must have done that earlier tonight. I was kneeling now just in front of her and was treated to an excellent view. I looked up but she was still staring blankly ahead. I waited a minute but nothing happened. I stood up and made to wash my hands when I heard it. At first there was some tiny plops which started gaining tempo. Then the rhythm changed, now the splash held more of a hollow quality. It was drumming against the inside of the porcelain. I tried to get a closer look at the source of this masterful waterfall but Kate was leaning forward. I bent closer and saw the clear stream leaving that beautiful slit. The flow started to dwindle and once more the heavy sound of pee hitting the water returned. This too stopped with a few last glistening drops clinging to her pussy. She stood up got some toilet paper and dried herself, a little run from the front to the back. She then reached down and pulled up her jeans and thong in one go. The wet material of both undoing the small amount of drying that she had just performed. She zipped up and closed the jeans button. After she had walked out of the bathroom she had turned off the light. I pulled up my pyjama bottoms which had been half around my knees and followed her. I hoped she would go into her own room and land on top of Donna and her "man" but no such luck. When I went out to the sitting room there she was lying in pretty much the same position she was in earlier. To be continued A Father's Desire She's out right now, having a wonderful time I'm sure. My 18-year-old daughter Meagan. We live together, just the two of us. Her mother and I got divorced two years ago because she wanted to 'find' herself. Last I heard she found herself in the bedroom of her yoga-instructor and they'd moved to somewhere in Asia. Probably something to do with Buddhism in some way. Funny thing is, I never really cared, and neither did Meagan. I'd stopped loving my wife some time before that. She'd cheated on me before, and although her mouth told me she'd been really sorry, her eyes had always told me different. It was almost like she had expected that just saying sorry would have been enough because aside from that there was virtually no change in her attitude. Meagan didn't care about her leaving that much either. My ex -- Jill -- had always been picking on her, always criticizing. Nothing she did was good enough for her mother. When she was younger she'd been hurt by it; later she just allowed it to go in one ear and out the other, often making her mother even angrier. I could tell that when she got the news that her mother had packed her bags there was no emotion or sadness in her. It was like hearing what we were going to be having for supper that day. Meagan and I had always been a different story. She was daddy's little girl. I love her to death and while there were moment I had to be tough on her, it was always truly justified and those moments were few and far between. I always wanted her to have the best and happiest possible youth she could have. Maybe that's why, aside from the cheating, I ended up no longer caring about my wife. Because she was fucking with my dream of raising our child to be happy and have a lot of lust for life. My daughter and I have been happy ever since my ex-wife closed the door behind her. We'd gotten even closer, in fact, because there was no longer any spoil sport in the room. We'd hang out together, go to the movies, go out for diner, etcetera. We were father and daughter and we were buddies as well. I could tell she loved me as much as I loved her. But somewhere along the way, another element entered into the realm of my feelings for her. I guess the slightest bit of it came into my mind when she was about sixteen, shortly before her mother had left. It was subtle back then, but also insidious. It would be about noticing just how good she looked in bath wear if we were on the beach. She had filled out to be a woman at that age; and when I say 'filled out' I mean filled out. She was bigger than her mother in that department. And she wasn't embarrassed to show it either. It was to the point where another father might have gotten somewhat upset at how she presented herself, or at least worried. But me, I don't know if it was pride, my insistence that she do whatever would make her feel happy and comfortable with herself, or... something else that had creeped in. A sort of forbidden exhibitionistic kind of lust. A kind of 'look at what I created, boys. Isn't it enough to get you hard?' I didn't actually think that way; as I said it was subtle and insidious. In my subconscious. I'd usually think 'what the heck was that' only afterward and quickly dismissed it. But it came back every time since then, and it became more obvious and more frequent. It's a haze to me exactly at what point I finally told myself what the nature of these thoughts were and if I had felt any guilt about it at all. I don't recall ever feeling any guilt about them. Anyway, over two years later and I have fully embraced that I not only love my daughter more than life itself, I also lust for her. But don't think this is one of those stories where I tell you: "and then she realized I was hard for her, she seduced me and we fucked and lived happily ever after." Like I said, I love her and wouldn't do anything to hurt her. But nothing stopped me from having increasingly sordid fantasies about her. Some of them in which I forgot my role as her father. Take right now, for instance. Meagan is out right now, with her friends. Both male and female. And I just can't help getting these thoughts to enter my brain. I know she has feelings for one of the boys. I know because she told me. We're that close. She even told me she hoped she would be getting closer to him tonight. Without her knowing about it, I hoped it too, but in another way altogether. I know a father is never supposed to think like this. I know a father is supposed to be worried about what might be going on right now. About if any boy is taking advantage of his little girl. So why is that exactly the thing I'm fantasizing about? Make no mistake, I'm not fantasizing about any boy being rough with her or raping her, but unlike a regular father I'm fantasizing a boy is making moves on her, for the specific purpose of getting laid in the worst way...and she'd be giving it to him, in the worst way. As I sit here, writing my thoughts down, my cock struggling to break out of my pants, my fantasies seem to clash with my sensibilities. If I'd find out a boy really did get in her pants, maybe I would be upset like any other father could, and maybe should be. Yet, simultaneously, I'm fantasizing that it *is* happening, right now. God... I'm thinking...about my precious daughter...sucking a boy. I'm thinking about that face I've seen every day since the day she was born, working back and forth, up and down, on some young man's throbbing prick. In my mind I hear an obscene audio mix of male grunts, female groans and heavy slurps. My girl's lips wrapped tightly around his fat, turgid pole and swiftly sliding up and down along the length of it, leaving white foaming rings of warm spit. Thick strands of drool oozing down from it and from her chin. I'm thinking about her gorgeous blue eyes, alternately looking up at him and rolling up into the back of her head. I'm thinking about her long, blonde hair whipping around from the speedy bobbing motions of her head. I'm thinking about her small nostrils flaring, breathing in air and the scents of saliva and male musk. I'm thinking about the boy's heavy balls slapping against my little girl's chin, and about his ass cheeks clenching and unclenching. At some point he'd even be outright fucking her face. My Meagan may be wrapping her hands -- her fingers - around his taut buttocks, even delve in between them. Is she nasty like that? I'm fantasizing she is, with me raising her to be open and explorative. To seek what it is that makes her happy. Why is a father fantasizing about some strange boy doing these things to his darling daughter, with it turning him on instead of infuriating him? Is it pride? Is it a combination of lust and just hoping whatever she wants to do, happening to her? There is no jealousy in my lust for her. My fantasy dictates that I wish it was happening, and that I was THERE, to watch it happening with my own eyes. In reality I don't know if I'd by flying at the boy's throat and snapping his neck, but I must say I doubt it, unless he'd be forcing her to do anything she didn't want to do. Oh fuck... These thoughts... Her lying on the ground... her hot, 18-year-old gorgeous figure. Her legs spread and knees pulled up. I've never seen her pussy, at least not since when she was a little girl. In my mind it's shaven bald, a long red slit shimmering from copious juices; tiny pink asshole winking from between her soft ass cheeks. The boy is naked and moving himself between her legs. Her arms are wrapping around his shoulders. Their mouths mash together in a wild, passionate French kiss. One of his hands is on one of her tits, squeezing it and tugging at the turgid pink nipple. The other hand seems to be positioning the head of his shaft and I see his ass surge forward. He's entering himself roughly into my precious girl. She gasps and groans in heat. His cock is sinking into her 18-year-old cunt down to the balls. I can see it. My vision is roaming and now it is positioned between their legs where I see inches of his rock hard, throbbing cock appearing and disappearing from, and into, Meagan's sodden clutching groove. I see both of their assholes, tightening and loosening rhythmically along with the tightening of the rest of their muscles. Pussy juices collecting around her pucker. Her legs are wrapped around him and her bare heels are digging into his ass flesh. As the boy fucks my Meagan her toes are curling. Her hands grab his ass to pull him into her. His motions turn into slams. The boy is slamming my precious daughter now. Sounds of bare flesh clashing. His balls slapping into her ass cleft. They don't hold back on their grunts and whines. I hear her voice, never before during sex and passion, but now I hear it and it makes me love her even more, like an aspect of my own flesh and blood I'd never known. Did I hear an "Oh Daddy"? Is she really doing these things right now? Is she chatting, laughing, eating, dancing; or is she fucking? I'm her father but I wish I knew, not because I'm worried but because I really like the idea of her getting ploughed right now, as I sit here thinking about it. About her beautiful tits jiggling as her steaming cunt is split open by a boy's invading manhood. I feel a tinge of guilt, not because I'm thinking about these things in and by themselves, but because I realize that I probably should be getting hot steaming mad at just the thought of some punk being inside my daughter, and yet it is what I'm fantasizing is happening. I love her so much and I don't hold back showing her I do; am I a horrible father hoping that she is getting pounded, or that she is sucking some guy off, or that she... Holy fucking shit... She's on her hands and knees, my beautiful, darling Meagan. Her tits hanging down beneath her frame. She's looking over her shoulder, back at the boy she likes. She's smiling. Reaching back, she puts a hand on each cheeks and spreads her butt open wide. The crack of her ass widens and her anus stretches. Her beautiful pink, wrinkled anus. God, how I wish right now that it could be my face in there, to take in her essence. I want to know everything about her, and yes, that includes that special fragrance between her ass cheeks. Part of me want to run to the clothes hamper right now, where I'm sure I could indulge in my cravings, but my fatherhood is holding me back. I'm not allowed to do that. To invade her privacy and rummage through her belongings unless she's allowed me to. It would be so easy for me to know what she smells like, but my respect for her forbids me. Funny how I respect her while still thinking about her the way I am. So I make do with just thinking about my girl spreading her ass wide, to be invaded in her holiest of holes by some boy she likes. In my head, my girl is a girl who gives up all to someone she likes. My thoughts flash forward to the point where his purple helmet pushes itself past her tight ring until it pops in and remains there, Meagan's rim clenching tightly behind it, adjusting itself to the invasive girth. She grunts, her voice making an obscene sound even I as her father have never heard. The boy works his way in further after he'd gotten the go ahead from my daughter. Inch after inch disappears between my girl's quivering globes. She keeps them spread, her fingers digging into her ass flesh tightly, leaving printmarks. Drops of love juice cling from the top of her slit. It hurts a bit now, but she wants it and she'll love it in about a minute. She's used to it; she's been playing with her ass ever since she started masturbating. Well...that's what my dirty mind says, anyway. That my beautiful, beloved daughter likes playing with her ass as she plays with the rest of her. Balls deep. Balls deep the boy is inside her rear. All 8 inches of fat cock are crammed into my daughter's rectum. Into her asshole. I see, in my mind, Meagan whipping her hair over to the other side of her head before looking back over her shoulder, a passion-filled look in her eyes, her upper teeth bared in lust and slight discomfort. "Do it," I hear in the voice I've known for so long now, but with an element in it that I've never heard. "In and out. Fuck it. Fuck my ass. Fuck it hard. I need it. Please..." I grab my cock and will myself to think about baseball for just a few seconds. I was going to blow hands free. When I return to my fantasy, I hear the slaps of flesh against flesh, I see the movements and the pounding and the rippling and I even smell the sex. The boy is hammering my girl from behind like a dog. Her knees are wide on the ground; I'd never even thought about where the hell they are. The scenery was vague in my mind; it could have been anywhere. Right now, for some reason, I'm thinking a grass field in a park in the middle of the night, out in the open. For some reason I'm seeing their other friends close by, doing their own dirty love making. But I zero in on my daughter again, getting pounded from behind. "Oh God... Oh God..." I hear her whine as her frame is battered forward with each thrust and is accompanied by loud sounds of flesh. Her tits pendulously swinging back and forth. Her face up and contorted from pleasure. One of the boy's hands is on the small of her back, the other is holding one ass cheek to the side as he bores himself into her tight rectal ring. My view switches and I see between their legs. I see how her asshole is gobbling his prick up to the balls time and again. Sometimes his length would vacate my daughter's premises and her hole would remain yawning wide open, a red cavern of freshly fucked butthole, before being packed with prick again. Her cunt is leaking like a faucet, drop after drop of her juice splattering down into the grass, grass that some couple may be lying in the following night. The boy grabs my daughter by the sides of her head, pulling her up and back so both of them are on their knees. The angle of the cock in her asshole makes her cry out. Their bodies tight against each other he continues riding her, riding himself up against her rear. She turns her head as he gropes her tits; tongues are flashing out and wrestling and as they French, panting, he empties his balls, grunting into her mouth, releasing all of his spunk to the last drop up the canal behind her sphincter. His riding motions are short and furious now as ropes of cum are surging through his cock to paint the inner walls of my daughter's ass. *** It had been an hour since the thoughts left my head. The thought of the boy cumming up my darling daughter's ass had made me cum in my hand; I had started working my cock somewhere during that thought without even really thinking about it. Despite being deflated, I didn't stop thinking about what Meagan could be doing, although my love for her had again gained the upper hand over my lust. Whatever she was doing, as long as she liked doing it, I would like her doing it. I was watching some sitcom on television. I was tired but didn't want to go to bed until she'd come home. She did shortly after that. It was obvious she'd been having a great time. She was beaming. My heart surged with love again; seeing her happy had that effect on me. If she had some naughty fun, she didn't tell me about it. I'm not sure if she would if she had. I hope she would, but maybe it was just that bit too much information to share to her taste. She did tell me about the more mundane things that happened and I still loved hearing about it, because she loved telling me about it. But I just couldn't help myself. I couldn't help myself that, even though she looked and moved completely ordinarily, I thought she might be trying her best to hide the fact that she was sore. That she was walking normally because she had to try, when in reality she was desperately trying to hold a boy's spunk up her backside for later. Even as she sat next to me on the couch, she'd be doing her best to keep her treat hidden. When she had enthusiastically shared all the information she'd wanted to share, she told me she was tired, that she was going to bed, that she loved me, kissed me briefly on the lips (which was a normal occurrence between us; no incestuous overtones in that act) and told me goodnight. I was smiling to myself as I heard her go up the stairs and into her bedroom. I was happy she had a good time, and I kept indulging myself thinking about the imaginary load she carried and was going to have fun with without my knowledge. How can a father love his daughter so deeply, and still have such obscene fantasies about her? *** As I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom I passed the door to my daughter's bedroom. Purely out of fatherly instincts, I softly opened the door to see if she was alright. I knew she must have been sleeping because I could see under her door that the lights were out. And besides, it was after three in the morning. The moonlight was beaming through her window, straight onto her bed. She was indeed sleeping. She'd kicked the blanket almost off the bed. My greatest challenge was lying there. She was wearing a white bra and a pair of panties; transparent ones! Why they were, I didn't contemplate. Were they transparent to begin with, or because they were wet? My mind was too sleepy to care. All I know as I looked at her was that I could see my darling daughter's beautiful pussy through the transparent front panel of her panties. A tiny stripe of pubes above her slit. Her labia were petal-like and hanging to the side. It was fleshier than it was in my fantasies. My cock felt like it was made of steel as I looked at the forbidden treasure between her slightly spread legs. The urge was so great. The urge to move closer, to inspect and maybe even to inhale. Never before had I wanted to put my hands on her so much and to show her that I love her in more ways than one. Me and my fantasies... Sure, it's easy to think that I could move over to her and touch her, smell her, put my mouth on her privates through her panties; that she'd wake up, see me, smile at me, tell me she loves me and urge me to continue so we'd embark on a beautiful, loving, incestuous relationship and live happily ever after. But this is reality. The reality is, I could touch her, she could wake up, shriek in horror, fight me off and god knows what else. Call the cops, or just tell me to get my filthy rapist ass out of her room so she could pack her bags, storm out of the house crying and never see me again. I knew I wouldn't get closer to her, that I wouldn't touch her. I even knew I'd probably never open the door like this again simply because I knew she probably wouldn't like me to see her like this. However much I lust for her, nothing comes close to how much I love her. Whatever makes her happy. I'd die for her. I'd kill myself if I hurt her and alienated her by indulging in that part of me that she doesn't know about. I closed the door and went about my business. If anything at all, beyond even the deep love I have for my daughter as a father, would happen between her and myself, it would all be because of her initiative, because she would let me know she wants it. I'll wait for the day that she will show me, or tell me, that she wants to be loved by me in that way as well. Even if that day never comes.