17 comments/ 138060 views/ 54 favorites Breakfast with Daddy By: Pennedpassions The following is a continuation of the Divine Depravity series. For those unfamiliar with the story, the following is a brief description: After Lisa's mother died, her father moved to be near a family friend who mentored her in becoming a woman. The student became the teacher as Lisa ended up seducing her into sex with her own son (also Lisa's boyfriend). Lisa also made certain promises to her mother before she died, including that she would try and be closer with her father. This is the continuing story of her attempt to fulfill the promise. Basking in the warmth of the bright Florida sun streaming through my window, my eyes remained shut. I attempted to cling to the waning somnolence, luxuriating in the blissful relaxation as consciousness began to intrude. Thinking back on the previous day, I leisurely stretched, wondering what led to such a deep and relaxing sleep. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so completely at peace. Suddenly my eyes flew open, jolted by images flashing through my mind—images too improbable and preposterous to be real. It had to be a dream, an unbelievably erotic one at that. I shook my head, trying to make some sense of the jumbled stream of consciousness. Why would I have such a bizarre dream? I wondered, as I reflected on pictures so depraved that I shuddered—dismayed over what sinister forces lurking inside would elicit such thoughts. I squinted as I adjusted to the sun's glare while trying to see the time. It was 9 o'clock; well past my usual time for rising. As my gaze moved from the clock to the chair where I usually left my clothes, I froze. There it was: a glittering crumpled heap on the floor—the rhinestone G-string. Suddenly the erotic images flooded back, only this time I was stunned to realize they were actual memories—memories of a reality that was almost inconceivable. I got up and reached for the pile of rhinestones, bringing the tiny patch to my face to inhale. No doubt about it; the lingering aroma of my cunt testified to my arousal from the previous night, decimating any lingering denial. I still could hardly comprehend it—the striptease I'd put on for Rick while he jacked off in front of me, that first taste of cum on my lips, which his mom shared when we kissed, her tongue fucking me and sharing my juice in a kiss with her son, him cumming all over her tits, her deep-throating him, his mother-fucking while she got off with my tongue in her puckered hole, and finally, her tongue-fucking me while her son drove his monster cock up her ass. It was all true! (Read that details in Devine Depravity.) Suddenly my hands were between my legs, bringing that familiar warmth as I relived the previous night. I smiled, thinking about the final climax and then....I was startled once again as I flashed on my shocking epiphany—realizing how Mom wanted me to fulfill the promise I made before she died. But now, in the light of day, I began to have second thoughts. The implications were almost inconceivable; perhaps my reasoning was flawed. Once again I reflected back on what Mom had said—messages so often reviewed over the years that they became indelibly imprinted. As I struggled to fully understand, my mind replayed her words. "Your dad and I have had such wonderfully close times, and I wish it could be the same for you...I wish you could experience how special your father is, just as I have—in every way...He really loves to care for a woman's needs...Nothing could make me happier than knowing that someday both of you will have a special kind of closeness that only a father and daughter can have...Just know that I love knowing you are close with each other, and always remember that an even closer relationship is possible as you mature...Never try to hold back or..." Suddenly I flashed the dream—one that I had re-experienced that night. But this time was different. I realized that Mom's words not only laid the seeds for my dream but now allowed me to see its reality. As the full impact of her hopes for my promise registered, I once again reflected on the dream, clearly seeing my nighttime visitor for the first time. The dark figure who had repeatedly intruded on my sleep, inexplicably eliciting both fright and arousal, with touches that were neither invited nor unwelcome, was not the stranger I once thought. After observing the beauty of sexual union between a parent and her child the previous night, natural barriers were destroyed, leaving me more open to the implications of what Mom had told me. It was a shocking recognition. I gasped, shaking my head; unable to deny the full picture I was seeing. It couldn't be, I thought. My night time intruder was really Daddy?! All these months, the erotic dream that left me sweating from sexual arousal—hands between my legs—was about my own father?! It was one thing to consider what Mom wanted in theory, but awareness of the dream suddenly made it more real, giving me second thoughts. What kind of sicko would...? Me with Daddy? But then, last night I was ok with my boyfriend fucking his mother. I'm a hypocrite and a sicko! I was not only fine with Rick's mother-fucking; I encouraged it, acting like her pimp, for God's sake! But then, aren't we supposed to practice the Golden Rule? I smiled, remembering the look when she first laid eyes on her son's raging hard-on. What would it be like to see Daddy's? This is nuts! Still, Mom had said, "We have to be open to anything and everything." Did she really mean...Dear God, my own father?! Is that really what you meant, Mommy? Or is this just my sick mind just spinning things? But why would I keep dreaming that—about Daddy? While I continued to try and wrap my mind around the idea, other feelings and needs began to take control. And with this, any resistance quickly crumbled. Mom had said, "I wish you could experience how special your father is just as I have—in every way." Now, thinking about how I felt in that dream, I wanted that too, however depraved I knew it was. I couldn't disappoint Mom and, equally important, I couldn't disappoint myself—not after all my past pain and the long wait. Mom had also said, "He really loves to care for a woman's needs" Though I was just 18, I knew that I was a passionate woman, fully aware of my needs, feeling my juices flowing. As I flashed on the dream and relived the intense arousal, I knew how I wanted to fulfill that promise to mom. I became lost in thought once again. Oh, what a feeling, having him inside me, driving to the core of my being, taking my maidenhood—decimating my chastity. Oh my God! What a thrill, feeling his manhood relentlessly drilling through, tearing and stretching my virgin pussy, transforming my cunt for the first time into a welcome receptacle that would bring me a lifetime of pleasure. That's what you want for me, isn't it, Mommy? I caught my breath, shuddering at the thought, with the fantasy both disconcerting, and unbelievably exciting. Finally, I was beginning to understand what Mom was talking about. I needed to feel Daddy throbbing and surging inside me—driven to the heights of ecstasy by his own daughter—before finally unleashing a torrent, bathing my spasming cunt in cum from the tool that helped create me. So now that I've decided on this, how in God's name do I make it happen? I wondered. It's not like I can just walk up and say, "Guess what, Daddy? I just figured out what Mom had in mind with that promise—wanting you to be my first fuck; I want it too! Isn't that cool?" What the hell am I thinking; he'd probably have me committed! Maybe I could walk out from the shower, wrapped in a towel and let it 'accidentally' drop? Dumb idea; he'd just get all shocked and embarrassed. Or, what if I told him that Rick just fucked his Mom last night and wouldn't it be fun if we did the same? This is crazy! There's no way he'll go for any of this. But how in the hell can I get him interested, let alone hint that I'm interested? If only I could talk to Mom. Why hadn't she just told me what she wanted in the first place? Then I would have understood so much more, like why he'd pulled away, how I could meet his needs and...But what if I had been told, when I was just fourteen? She might have said, "Listen, honey; there's a reason I keep talking about you and Daddy being closer, and there's a reason I want you to wait on having sex. One day after you graduate I want your Daddy to take your virginity, being the first guy to drill your tight little vagina with his big, black, hard penis." I would have freaked! And what about Daddy? He's clueless about what she wanted for us; if he knew he'd be even more freaked out. As I sat there, trying to formulate a plan, I started talking it out with Mom, as I often did with struggles in my life. Now, I know what you wanted Mom; I never understood it until now. And I even understand why you had to keep it a mystery. You wouldn't believe what all I've learned from Nola; I think you'd be proud of me. Last night was pretty wild and crazy, but I know you would've loved it. After seeing Rick make love with his mother, I know that's what you want for me and Daddy, and it's what I want too. God, mom! I'm getting wet just thinking about it. But how do I make it happen? I'm sure Daddy's never even thought about me that way. What if he doesn't even want me? This is nuts! How does a girl tell her father that she wants to make love with him? "Calm down, honey." I could almost hear Mom responding. "You have to trust yourself and your father's love. Anything worthwhile takes patience. But it will come. Remember, I told you all men are animals? That's not all bad. It gives you the advantage; you just have to appeal to the animal inside your father. You're beautiful and no man can resist your charms, not even your father. All you have to do is let them out. Remember what I said. 'You can only experience what is possible through complete abandonment that drops all inhibitions and lets the primitive animal inside take over. Only then can a woman's wild erotic beauty come out.' Remember how wild you've been with your revealing clothes and how wild you were last night? You need to let Daddy see that side of you too." I realized Mom was right. I had learned so much from Nola, dropping all my boundaries and inhibitions—but only with her and Rick. Now I needed to apply her education to my relationship with Daddy. I remembered what Nola had taught me about the seduction process, saying I needed to appeal to all the senses, including sight, sound, touch, smell and taste. Of all these, she told me that men are first enticed by visual stimulation. I needed to ensure that my provocative clothes and seductive moves made me eye candy—even for Daddy. I had learned that once the picture hooked my guy, then I needed to stimulate with my voice, dropping suggestive comments and compliments. Finally, she taught me how to complete the seduction, adding senses of touch, smell and taste. But first things first; I needed Daddy to see me—not just as his daughter but as his sweet sexy eye candy. After the shopping with Nola and adding to my wardrobe, I had several skimpy outfits. However, I'd certainly never worn them around Daddy. He was clueless about the impact of Nola's influence and the radical transformation I had gone through in the past month. Now I was determined to change that; he had to know the new me. It was scary but also exciting. After feeling the excitement Daddy elicited all those times in my dreams, now I desperately wanted him for real. I also realized I didn't have much time. I had just completed my high school correspondence and my certificate would arrive in the mail any day now. My boyfriend, Rick knew what that meant: we no longer had to wait, and the promise I made to Mom could be fulfilled. I could have sex, and he obviously assumed that he'd be my first. After helping him fuck his mother, he'd be even hotter for me. I smiled, wondering if he might already be giving his mom a morning fuck, maybe while thinking of driving that monster cock up my tight virgin cunt! Clearly I only had a short time to work my plan—seducing my father. It was terribly risky, but if there was to be any possibility of having him fulfill that promise, I had to take the chance. Finally, I was firm in my resolve. I had no idea whether he would respond or how far he would go, but I was about to find out. I could hear Daddy in the kitchen and it seemed like a perfect time to test the waters. I held up the G-string and laughed, thinking of his shocked response if I were to walk out in that pussy-baring patch. I shook my head, tossing it aside; obviously he wasn't ready for that. I, on the other hand, was more than ready and suddenly wondered why. After all, until today, I had never even thought of my father in a romantic way. And now I was thinking of him fucking me! Obviously new information and experiences can radically alter perspective. The mother-fucking orgy last night, the realization of what Mom wanted for us, and the awareness that I had been dreaming about getting off to Daddy's touch—all helped crush the normal barriers. I massaged my tits, imagining exposing myself to him, holding up my breasts for his inspection as he leaned down to cover my nipple with his lips. I shook my head, knowing it could never happen, not without a much more subtle approach. I rummaged through my drawer and finally came up with something which, while not totally outlandish, was quite revealing and provocative. The white spandex shorts hugged my body, leaving little to the imagination. As I observed a slight bulge on either side of the center seam, I wondered if the hint of my camel-toe was going too far. But when I observed the reflection of my full tear-drop breasts in the mirror, I knew they would command most of the attention. Now I had to find something that would both cover and tease. I tried on several tops, seeking just the right look. I held up a crocheted cami, with wide stitching, leaving my dark tips peeking through—a little too obvious. Next I pulled out a pink string top, then quickly dropped it. The patches were little more than pasties, leaving my tits almost entirely bare—hardly subtle. Finally, I spotted it—a spandex midriff top that tied under my boobs. As I slipped it on and pulled up the center tie, I looked down to see the stretched, fuchsia-colored material pushing the soft flesh high to form an enticing valley at the center. It was skin tight, hugging the contours of my breasts—what little was covered. I recalled that Nola pushed me to get one size smaller; now I was glad she had, observing my tits bulging out to the sides and center. The outline of my nubs was clearly visible and I could see them begin to swell—maybe a little too suggestive. I rubbed them to bring down the prominence while trying to suppress erotic thoughts that caused the problem. Then I slid the inner borders out, revealing more cleavage while ensuring it barely covered my dark areolae. A small diamond studded chain dangling from my navel, provocatively pointing to the treasures below, topped off the look. Finally, I pulled strands of my long black hair to cascade in front, providing a tantalizing peek-a-boo of my tits that were otherwise rather blatantly on display. Some finishing touches of makeup, and I was ready. I studied my reflection one final time and nodded, thinking my hot look should provide him more than enough eye candy. This is it I thought and, taking a deep breath, headed for the kitchen. I could smell the aroma of sausage and pancakes wafting down the hallway as I made my way to the open door. He was standing over the grill, his back to me, when I announced my presence. "Morning, Daddy; smells delicious!" "Morning, pumpkin. You finally decided to get up," he chuckled as he began turning toward me. "You must have had a late....Aahh..." He stopped in mid-sentence, staring at me with his mouth gaping open. "Daddy...Daddy?" I repeated, suppressing a grin as he looked absolutely mesmerized. "What's with the staring?" I tried to act nonchalant. "Oh...Aahh, s-sorry," He mumbled looking down while still furtively glancing up at me. Poor Daddy; I didn't want to embarrass him. He was so cute, trying to look at me without being noticed. But it wasn't fair to him, and I really did want him to look. He needed to get the full picture, free to stare without worrying about me catching him. "I'll get the table set so we can dig in," I suggested, flouncing over to the cupboard, swinging my hips. I smiled to myself, knowing the center seam was clearly outlining the contours of each cheek as I felt his eyes boring in on my thinly-covered full derrière. "Y-yeah; s-sounds good," he stammered. "Is anything wrong, Daddy?" I queried, laying out our place settings. "N-No; I'm fine," he responded hesitantly. From the corner of my eye I could see him continuing to stare. "You better not let that burn," I cautioned, worried our meal would go up in smoke while he devoured me with his eyes. "Oh yeah," he mumbled, turning back to the grill momentarily. "Do you like my new outfit?" I blurted out, finally deciding to test the waters as I twirled around for his inspection. "I... Aahh...Don't you think it's a bit...Well, do you really think that's appropriate for...?" He paused before continuing. "I mean, where are you planning on going?" "I don't know. Maybe some shopping or a beach walk. Does it really matter?" "Maybe. I-I mean, don't you think that's a little risqué for going out in public?" "Come on, Daddy. You've seen girls wear a lot less shopping in some of those beach boutiques." "I-I suppose, but...Well, you're my daughter and somehow it's different when...It's just, I guess I've never seen you in..." "You don't like it?" I interrupted. "I didn't say that, honey. I guess I'm a little uncomfortable commenting." "Why? I don't get it." I took on a hurt, pouty tone. "Nola said any guy would love the way I look in this." "Yeah, b-but I'm not j-just any guy, honey; I'm your father, for God's sake!" "So; you can't comment on my looks?" "Well...." "You used to tell me I looked pretty," I pushed. "That was when you were little, but now..." "Thanks a lot," I interrupted sarcastically. "Now that I've grown up, I'm not cute or pretty anymore?" "Come on, honey." Dad shook his head. "Things have changed and we have to maintain appropriate boundaries." "Boundaries?" I responded, acting confused. "What does that have to do with telling me how I look?" "You know; it's just...Well it's hard to explain...." He trailed off, at a loss for words. "Anyway, it seems kind of revealing, but if that's what you like, then I guess it's nice." "Nice? Nice?" I repeated in a challenging tone. "That's all you can say, after I go to the trouble of getting all dolled up for you?" "For me?" Daddy was clearly taken aback. "I-I think you're....It's just that...I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but...Well honey, maybe you're a little confused about our relationship." "No Daddy," I responded firmly. "You sound like you're feeling confused—and uncomfortable." "I'm just concerned with your naivety about things. You're still young, and I think you might want to discuss this more with Nola." "Why? She's the one who picked out this top and said it made me look really hot!" "Sh-she's....Nola's having you buy clothes like this?" he asked incredulously. "Of course," I responded. "Isn't that what you wanted?" "Whatever gave you that idea?" He gestured toward me. "I certainly never suggested this kind of attire." Breakfast with Daddy "But you're the one who wanted her to teach me. And she's been telling me that I need to get rid of the baggy clothes and wear sexy stuff. She says that guys like more revealing clothes, and now you're saying she's wrong?" "N-no, I guess not. I can't deny it; guys do like that look, but..." "Then do you like it, Daddy?" I interrupted. "That's not the issue. I'm your father, and there still have to be some limits." "That's not what you told Nola," I countered. "What do you mean?" "Don't you remember, Daddy? You said you wanted her to teach me—how did you put it—'anything and everything about being a sensual seductive woman,' and you didn't say anything about limits." "Yeah but I didn't mean...." He paused. "You shouldn't have been eavesdropping on our conversation. Besides, when I said that...I mean, I guess I just wasn't expecting...Well, this is just such a surprise." "I was hoping it would to be. During the past month, Nola has been teaching me about becoming a woman; how to dress and practice my feminine charms. Isn't that what you wanted, Daddy?" "I guess, but I didn't realize...." "You don't understand, Daddy," I interrupted. "Having Nola as my mentor has been such a wonderful gift; I just wanted to share with you, showing you the results of what you started. Is that wrong—wanting to let you in on what I've learned?" "I-I...Well, I suppose not, as long as it's appropriate." "Come on, Daddy! What's that supposed to mean? When you told me to trust Nola; I thought that meant anything she taught me was appropriate. Is there something wrong with showing you your new daughter—kind of a coming out? After all, it was your idea." "Yeah, I guess it was, but...I mean, that's sweet, and I don't mean to rain on your parade, sweetie, but...." "Never mind, Daddy. This surprise has obviously turned out to be a bomb." I lamented in a whiny tone. "But I don't get it. You always like to hear about my education and learning." "Yeah, but not with this education; it's kind of personal." "I thought that was the whole idea of family; we're supposed to be able to be open with things like this. Mom said I could share anything with you; sh-she wanted us to b-be so close." My voice was trembling, as I turned on the tears, batting my eyes while looking up at him. "But we're not that close are we, Daddy—not like Mom wanted?" "Please don't cry, sweetheart. I do want you to be able to be open and talk to me." "Do you really?" I challenged. "You don't seem to want me sharing what I've learned from Nola, like how she taught me to dress." "I didn't say that. It's just that...." "You're embarrassed, Daddy," I interrupted, stating the obvious. "Wh-why would I be embarrassed," He responded evasively, "I'm not sure, but you obviously are. You can't even look at me right now," I challenged. "I guess it's just different and...Well, it takes some getting used to." He shook his head, glancing up at me. "I mean, it's pretty revealing, and I've never seen you like this." "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to shock you." (Ok, so I did a little; but not too much.) "It probably feels weird to realize I've grown up. I guess it must be pretty long, and seeing me like this must make it hard." I was hoping he was hard and deliberately emphasized the last word, thinking he'd get my pun while still allowing plausible deniability. "Does seeing me like this make it harder, Daddy?" "Lisa!" He objected. "That's ridiculous and totally out of line, I might add. I won't have you talking that way!" "What way?" I feigned ignorance. "I think you know very well what I'm talking about, young lady, and you have no business making that suggestive comment about anyone—let alone your own father!" "What comment? I was just saying that it's probably been a long lonely process, single parenting me from a little girl into a woman; it must be hard seeing me in this outfit that shows I'm no longer a little girl." "Oh God! I-I thought you meant...Never mind." "No, come on; what did you think I was....?" I paused, feigning shock as I continued. "Oh God! You thought long and hard meant...Daddy! I would never talk about...I mean, this is embarrassing! Where is your mind anyway?" "Sorry," he mumbled. "I was thinking...I just assumed that...Forget it; I'm sorry." "It's ok, Daddy," I assured. "I know it gets hard." I smirked at the repeat pun, enjoying his discomfort. "I've always been your little girl, but now as an adult I have to make my own choices. You've cared for me during my teens, but you can't protect me all the time; I'm sure it's hard to let go." "Baby, you have no idea; not until you've had your own kids." As he looked at me, I could see his eyes glistening with tears. His obvious vulnerability made me melt, reminding me of Mom telling me how needy he was and of the closeness she wanted for us. "Don't worry, Daddy; just because you can't always protect me doesn't mean we can't be close. Mom always said we could be a lot closer, and now I think I know what she meant." "What?" he asked in a guarded tone. "I think she was looking forward to a time like this, when I became an adult and saw myself as a woman. Now that you won't have to parent me so much, we can relate more like adults and with less of the parent-child barriers. That way we can get closer, like you and Mom. That's what she said she wanted. Don't you want that for us too?" "I-I suppose so." "Somehow, you don't sound too enthused; I guess change is always hard. But no matter what, Daddy, I'll always be your little girl," I cooed, winking at him as I cocked my hip to one side. "I know, I know." He sounded wistful. "Let's eat." "Ok, but since you did all the cooking, I get to serve you. Come on over and sit down," I suggested, pulling out the chair for him. "Now we don't want to get any syrup on that nice shirt," I cautioned, as I patted his chest. He seldom used a napkin, but I wanted to include all the elements in my seduction. Having already given him visual and auditory stimulation, it was time to add touch. I slipped the napkin over the top button and smoothed it in place, feeling his broad chest in the process. "Wow Daddy! You've been hiding something from me, haven't you?" "No; I don't think so." "Come on, Daddy; obviously you're getting a nice, firm, hard...." "Lisa!" he interrupted, blanching as he leaned over. Suddenly I realized he was once again jumping to conclusions, attempting to conceal what he thought I was about to reference. This is going to be fun, I thought, deciding it was a chance to get the upper hand and play with him some. "What? What's got you so upset?" "Just stop it, honey; stop pretending you didn't say what I just heard, telling me I'm getting a hard...I can't even say...you know." "Body, Daddy; I was talking about you getting a firm, hard body, for God's sake! So much for paying you a compliment. Geez, Daddy! You've got a one track mind." "I-I'm sorry. I just thought...Well, seeing you in that outfit I assumed...." "You think that just because I put on a sexy outfit, I'm automatically thinking that—about my own father?!" "No; it's just that...Well, I-I...Just forget it." Daddy looked down, shaking his head in embarrassment. "This is nuts! Nola was right about guys; all they can think about is what's between their legs! I just never thought that would include my own father!" "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that. Please forgive me, honey." "Ok, Daddy. But this is twice you've assumed I was thinking about whether you have a hard-on." "Lisa!" "Please, Daddy. We both know what you mean; we may as well be honest," I insisted. "But why? Why do you keep thinking that's on my mind?" "I-I can't really say." "Can't or won't? Is seeing me like this doing something to you?" "Of course not! I can't believe that you'd even suggest such a thing." "Right. I'm not the one who keeps bringing it up. Whoops; maybe I am," I chuckled. "I really didn't mean that as a pun, but given your mindset, I guess you'd take 'bringing it up' as referring to your...." "Sit on it, Lisa!" Dad admonished. "Now who's being suggestive," I challenged. "Certainly not me," he shot back. "No? You really want me to sit on it?" I laughed. "Sounds rather suggestive to me." "Dear God, Lisa!" he objected. "That is totally inappropriate." "Really? That's one of the positions Nola taught me about, and she said guys really like it." "All right; that's enough!" "You're the one who keeps bringing it...I mean, taking about—I may as well just say it—your cock." "Oh my God! Lisa Laura! How can you talk that way?" "What? You'd rather I say penis?" "I'd rather you not comment on this at all." He shook his head in dismay. "Well, I'm not the one who brought it up. And what's wrong with saying cock?" I smirked as I saw him wince. "Nola says 'penis' is for anatomy class or middle school sex ed. But now that I'm a woman, she says we call it your cock. What's wrong with that? Don't you still want her teaching me?" "Of course. She's a close friend, and I thought you needed a feminine perspective on things. It's just that referring to...Well, I don't think this whole learning thing should include me." "Why not?" I countered. "It was your idea in the first place." "Yeah, but I guess I wasn't thinking that...I-I mean, I wanted her to help, but just never thought it would involve us." "But it's bound to involve us if I'm going to be changing into a woman." "I'm not sure wh-what you mean." Daddy sounded tentative. "Most of the stuff you're learning is about relating with other guys, not your father." "But if I'm changing into a woman, it's bound to involve you, when you have to see me in a different way." "I suppose," he responded hesitantly. "I just wasn't thinking it would involve you showing me like this." "But isn't this how women dress to show off?" "Yes, but..." "Didn't you like it when Mommy dressed in sexy clothes?" I pushed. "Of course, honey. But you're my daughter, and it feels like this is more than just showing me what you've learned; maybe more about how it could impact us." "Us? I don't see how it involves us—unless you're thinking....Dear God! Did you think I wanted to show you my new look so I could...You think I'm trying to seduce you?" I asked, feigning incredulity. "Of course not. That's ridiculous! Can't we just drop this and eat?" "Sounds like a great idea," I agreed, not wanting to push things too far at this point. "But getting back to what I meant to say, you have been working out some, haven't you?" "Oh, yeah; I've gotten back into some weight training." "I can tell, Daddy," I cooed admiringly, sliding my hands on his chest once again. As I felt him shudder, I lingered, moving from his firm pecs to his broad shoulders and down the contours of his biceps. "Maybe it's just my small hands, but your arms feel really big," I cooed, gently squeezing as I felt him flex in response. "I know you can't always take care of me, but is it ok if I still think of you as my big strong Daddy who will protect me?" "You know I always will, pumpkin," he replied. "Thank you, Daddy." I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, making sure my breast grazed his shoulder. "Even though I'm grown up, I love being your pumpkin. Now how about some pancakes?" I felt his eyes on me while I served up our pancakes and sausage. As I dished up his food from the opposite side of the table, I leaned down, dishing up a provocative view of my tits. "Is that enough, Daddy?" I asked. "Aaahh...Yeah, th-that's fine." "Oh...forgot the syrup," I observed, moving back to the counter. Knowing it was in the bottom cupboard, I decided this was another chance to add to the visual impact. Slowly I bent at the waste, keeping my legs straight to present the best view of my derrière. I shifted from side to side, pretending to search while putting a strain on those thin spandex shorts that barely contained my ass. Feeling the cool sensation of the air conditioner, I realized the material was riding higher, leaving the lower part of my ass peeking through. I shivered—not from the cool air, but from the exciting taboo of exposing my ass to my own father. "Where is that anyway?" I mumbled, continuing the show. "It sh-should be right th-there," Daddy stammered breathlessly. Feeling his eyes glued to my ass, I glanced back between my legs, observing his wide-eyed gaping stare. "Can you see it?" I asked, referring to my ass! "Y-yeah...I mean, n-no," he stammered "Oh, here it is," I chuckled. "Right in front of me." Once again I leaned over the table, daggling my voluptuous tits in front of his face. I briefly glanced up, grinning to see him staring down my cleavage. I was determined to prolong the experience. Carefully, I poured a small stream to coat each pancake with thin strings of syrup. In the process of coating, I rapidly moved my arm, knowing I was animating my tits, as I felt them swinging back and forth for his viewing pleasure. "There, do these look tasty?" I questioned with a double-entendre. "Y-yeah, that's fine, honey," he mumbled. "Thanks." While dishing out my own food, I considered my next move. The sausage looked tempting as I pictured how I might show Daddy the oral techniques Nola had taught me. But that seemed too obvious. I tried to think of a more subtle approach as we continued to devour our pancakes in awkward silence. Then it hit me. They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but that wasn't my concern. I was quite sure that I already had Daddy's heart; I was looking to appeal to a different organ. To do so, I—not food—needed to command his attention. Toward that end, I deliberately heavily doused my remaining pancakes in syrup, counting on gravity to do the rest. Sure enough, with the next few bites, the inevitable happened. As it dripped down, I was able to ensure that the sticky syrup landed in strategic places. "Oh dear!" I exclaimed. "Look what I mess I've made." I glanced down to see drops of golden syrup that had landed on the bare inner slope and as well as the thin cloth over my left breast. Just as my right hand moved to clean up, Daddy chimed in. "And you were worried about me making a mess." "That's the problem with this top—no place to tuck in the napkin." "That's n-not the only problem with your t-top." He laughed nervously. But his chuckle quickly ended when he observed me touch my breast, obviously mesmerized by my seductive moves. I was equally captivated, watching him watch me as my finger pressed against the supple mound, slowing sweeping upward. His eyes remained glued to that finger as I moved to my mouth, drawing it across my lips before gradually sucking it down. I smiled, savoring the sweetness as I provocatively licked up and down. "Ummm," I moaned, "tastes delicious. Don't you just love to suck on tasty treats?" "Uhuh," he mumbled, continuing to follow my moves as I repeatedly wiped my breast and sucked off my finger—pushing against the top as the dark pigment of the ringed tip was occasionally 'accidentally' exposed. But the show still wasn't over; there were those stains on my top—the main spot on the material over my nub. After dipping my napkin in the glass of water, I dobbed over the thin spandex. Feeling his gaze, I shuddered—Daddy watching his daughter rubbing her nipple! I had forgotten how thin the top was and, as the tip began to show through, I worried that things might be moving too fast. "M-maybe y-you need to ch-change," Daddy stammered, looking up at me as he blushed. "Oh I-I...." I paused, glancing down to share his view. Suddenly, I caught my breath, observing the effect of the cool water. The temperature combined with my touch had stimulated the contractile tissue. In addition, watching Daddy watching me—thinking of the response I might be eliciting in him—was making me totally horny, tingling with excitement. The result of all this stimulation was inevitable, bringing my firm swollen nipples to full attention. The left, with its dark surrounding tissue, protruded against the thin, wet spandex in a lewd, virtually transparent display. This was more exposure than I planned at this stage of the game, leaving me blushing and hesitant as I responded. "I-I'm s-sorry; I didn't realize that it was...Am I grossing you out Daddy?" "N-no, dear. I just think that...Well, this isn't appropriate; I shouldn't be seeing...." "Why not, Daddy?" I interrupted, realizing that with my tits on full display there was really no turning back. "Come on, honey. A father shouldn't be seeing his daughter with...you know...." "You've seen me in a lot less," I argued. "Remember when I used to run around the house in just my panties?" "That was years ago, honey. But you've grown a lot since then," he responded in a wistful tone as he continued glancing down at my bulging tits. Was Daddy feeling melancholy about the past, or regretful over the taboo of my tantalizing treats that he couldn't really sample? I wondered. "You sound kind of sad, Daddy. Isn't growing up a good thing?" I asked. "Of course it is, honey." "Then if growing these is a good thing, why am I suddenly supposed to cover them more, like I'm ashamed of them?" I added to the point by covering my breasts. Only it was more like holding them up for further inspection, as I squeezed with my hands, causing them to balloon up, while ensuring that nubs poked through between my fingers. "Aahh...It is a g-good thing, I guess. It's j-just that...." "This doesn't make sense," I interrupted. "It took a lot for me to get over hang-ups about my grownup body and let it show some. I wouldn't have done it without Nola pushing me to wear more revealing clothes, telling me I was beautiful and needed to show it." "You are beautiful, honey." "Then why are you acting this way? You were the one who wanted her to teach me; I expected you'd be surprise and happy with my new look. But you're obviously shocked and upset. Maybe I should go back to being ashamed and hide under those baggy clothes again." "No, baby," Daddy disagreed. "I don't want you to ever be ashamed of who you are." "Yeah, but maybe I should be ashamed of how I look. I'm beginning to think this whole education by Nola was one big mistake." "You shouldn't think that, honey. It's just that...Well, I guess it's my problem. Nola is a wonderful friend. You can trust what she tells you and should never be ashamed of how you look. You're beautiful!" "Oh Daddy," I bubbled, "you really think so?" "Of course I do." "Then...I mean, I don't need to cover myself like this?" I queried, gently massaging my breasts while keeping them covered. "Ahh...I-I...." He paused and then finally continued. "No, I g-guess you shouldn't have to c-cover them. I just need to get used to it." "They look Ok like this?" I pushed, dropping my hands and staring down at my twin peaks as he looked on." "Y-yeah...Damn!" I heard him mutter under his breath, shaking his head while his eyes remained riveted on my barely covered tits. I shivered with a sense of exhilaration, automatically arching for further projection. The momentary silence seemed to go on forever as we stared at my nipple, plainly visible through the wet material. "Aahh," I gasped, while hearing Daddy suck in his breath—both of us captivated by my arousal as the elongated tip gradually swelled even more. "I-I didn't...I mean, I can't help it. Watching you see it...When you're staring like that, it makes it get..." Breakfast with Daddy "Sorry," Daddy mumbled, pretending to look down, all the while continuing to bore in on it, unable to tear himself away. "D-don't be," I stammered in excitement, struggling to catch my breath. "It feels g-good and...God, I'm not sure I should say this, but I-I'm k-kind of excited, l-letting you see me this way. Is th-that wrong?" "Aah...I'm not sure," he ventured, noncommittally. "Do y-you want it to b-be wrong?" I pushed. "I-I should, but n-no." He stammered, shaking his head in dismay. "I don't think I do. God help me!" "Thank God." I breathed a sigh of relief, realizing we had crossed a major hurdle. "I was afraid you might be mad, and I'm glad you think this is ok." "Hold on, honey. I didn't say it was ok. We both know it's wrong, no matter how much we wish it weren't." "What makes it wrong?" I challenged. "Come on, sweetheart. I'm your father, and it can't be right for me to...It's so hard...." "Thank God!" I interrupted excitedly. "Now I don't feel so bad about getting hot, with my nipples all swollen over seeing you seeing me like this—knowing you're hard too." "Lisa!" Daddy objected. "I meant that it's difficult. How could you even think that I would...My God! Where is your mind?" "Oh God!" I exclaimed. "I'm sorry. This is so embarrassing! I thought...And now you know that...Dear God!" I shook my head, looking down in feigned embarrassment as I reach to clasp my tits once again, holding them like a push-up bra. "Aahh, i-it's ok, honey," he tried to reassure. "No it's not! Now you know what I was feeling when...I mean, I just thought with the way you were looking...God, I'm such a fool! I've just managed to look like some kind of pervert and totally gross you out." "Please don't say that, honey. I wasn't grossed out. I'm s-sorry for staring. It's just that seeing your breasts like that...Well, it reminded me of your mother and...." "Really?" I interrupted. "Really." "Are m-mine as b-big as hers?" I hesitantly responded. "I-I'm not sure." "Maybe y-you should see them again," I suggested "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, but...Well, maybe j-just a l-little," he suggested breathlessly. "Do you really want to?" "Yes. God forgive me, but I do." I slowly pulled away my hands, but not before further tantalizing him with a pinch and pull on each nipple. "Aahh," he gasped. "So what do you think, Daddy?" I pushed, gently bouncing them from side to side. "I-I think they're a little bigger. Your bosoms are lovely, honey." "You mean tits," I suggested. "Nola said that sounded hotter." "Yeah, I-I suppose she's right. It's just that...Well, me being your father, it's hard...I mean I want to respect you; I'd rather not use that term." "But what if I feel more respected when you refer to them that way?" I challenged. "Th-then, aahh...I-I...Ok fine; you're t-tits are beautiful." "Thank you, Daddy. But I think they'd look even better if they matched," I suggested as I dipped my finger in the pool of syrup and then slowly dabbed it on the spandex over my right nipple. "Honey! Don't you think you're carrying this too far?" But his objection sounded rather half hearted. "You're right. I've made a real mess," I chuckled; "now I need to clean up." Once again I soaked the napkin in ice water, rubbing it over my right nub. The thin material quickly became wet and transparent. "There, now my tits match. Isn't that better, Daddy?" "Dear God! I-I'm not sure. This just seems so...." "Am I really bigger than Mom was?" I interrupted, trying to distract from his objection. "Y-yeah, you're definitely b-bigger," he panted. "But the way you stick out, with those big dark circles—your nipples look just like your mother's." "That's so exciting!" I bubbled. "Did you get excited, seeing Mom's tits?" "This is getting rather personal, but obviously I did. Your mom was very sexy—lucky for you or I wouldn't have been able to get her pregnant." He laughed nervously. "So seeing her tits made you hard?" I persisted. "For God's sake, yes! But I'm sure you already knew that. Are you just trying to embarrass me?" "No, Daddy; I want you to be comfortable and happy seeing me this way. I was just wondering...." I trailed off. "Wondering what?" Daddy asked guardedly. "Well, since you got hard seeing Mom's tits, and mine look a lot like hers—only bigger—I was wondering how you felt seeing these," I pushed, gently stroking each soft orb. "Aahh...I'm not sure what you're asking." "Not sure or not wanting to say," I challenged. "We've always promised to be honest with each other. I've admitted this got me excited, but you..." "Why?" he interrupted. "I mean, I'm not trying to embarrass you, but why does this get you excited&38212showing some to your old man?" "First, you're not old, Daddy; you look great. Besides, since you're the most important man in my life, I obviously want to impress you more than anyone else. I kind of wondered...Well, it seemed like the way you were staring, I just thought maybe....Forget it; I'm not going to be on my own here, being honest and looking like an idiot!" "Wh-what were you thinking?" Daddy asked hesitantly. "I guess I was hoping your staring meant something." "It d-does, I guess." He was still tentative in his response. "More than you just being freaked out by my new look?" "Y-you don't freak me out, honey. It's just that it's so different; it's kind of a shock." "Because of what it does to you, seeing me look kind of like Mom?" I asked hopefully. "I guess, maybe," he grudgingly conceded. "What if I didn't remind you of Mom and wasn't your daughter?" His eyes lit up and he grinned; suddenly unabashedly leering at me as he blurted out, "Hell, I'd be feeling like..." He paused and shook his head as though struggling to come to his senses. "I'm sorry; this is crazy. You are my daughter." "Yes, Daddy. But aren't I also a sexy desirable women?" "I-I...Aahh...Ok, I can't deny that. But you're still my daughter." "So I'm your sexy daughter?" "Dear God! I'm not comfortable with this conversation, but yes, I suppose so. Seeing you like this, I'd have to be the world's biggest liar not to admit that you're a very sexy daughter." "And when you see someone very sexy, what does it do to you," I pushed, "I don't think we want to go there." "Why not? It seems like you're being selfish about this whole thing." "Selfish?" He was clearly irritated with my suggestion. "I think I've been more than tolerant." "Come on, Daddy. Just think about it. I get all dolled up, taking the risk of dressing half naked—in front of my own father—all to impress you with...." "I-I never asked for this." He sounded defensive. "In some ways you did when you..." "I never would ask you to dress like this." "No, you didn't ask it directly. But you wanted Nola to help mentor me. After she taught me how to dress and be sexy, I obviously would want to practice it with others." "Including your own father?" he asked incredulously. "Obviously, with you, Daddy. You're the one who got Nola to help. When she said that any man would love to see my new look, it was only natural that I'd think of you." "M-Me?" "Of course. When you love and care for someone, isn't in natural that you'd want to kind of show off to them what you've learned, especially when you think that it might bring them pleasure?" "I-I...Well, I suppose that makes sense," he responded. "So when I'm showing you the sexy way I've learned to dress, do you like it?" "L-Like it?" He seemed evasive. "Yes, Daddy. Nola said that any man would find me irresistible. Do y-you think I-I'm irresistible?" I asked tentatively, shying batting my eyes at him. "You are very pretty, honey. As to your outfit, I-I'm not sure..." "But how do you feel about it," I pushed. "I-I couldn't say," he continued to evade. "Couldn't or wouldn't?" I was getting increasingly irritated. "Come on Daddy. I've been showing you my special new look. And it's pretty obvious what it does to me." "Does to you?" He was either a complete idiot or good at acting. "For God's sake, Daddy! Isn't it obvious? I've been watching you watch my nipples get hard and..." I paused, sharing his view of my tits, once again observing the dark protrusions, as I heard him breathing hard. "Dear God! I may as well be topless!" "I'm s-sorry. I certainly wasn't asking for this and maybe..." "No, but I wanted to do it for you, Daddy," I interrupted. "I've been honest about my feelings, letting you know that I'm...Well, I guess from the look of my tits I couldn't really hide it. But still, I admitted that it wasn't just the cold water; I was hot over watching you stare at me in this top. Does that upset you?" "No...I-I mean, kind of...Well, I just don't think it's really appropriate." "So now I'm inappropriate?" I challenged. "Still, you really seem to be enjoying my inappropriateness." I chuckled, tweaking my nipples provocatively. "For God's sake! What do you want me from me?" "Only what I've given you—honesty and openness. I've been unbelievable vulnerable with you, physically and emotionally. In return, you've danced around, hiding behind boundaries, how you felt about mom, what's appropriate, your fatherly image—anything but honest sharing." "Come on, honey; I already admitted that you're a very sexy daughter. What else is there to say?" "How about telling me why your eyes are still glued to my tits?" I pushed. "I-I'm sorry." He shook his head, finally looking away. "Don't apologize, Daddy. You know it excites me; I just want you to be honest about why you look." "Well, to be honest, God forgive me, but I guess I like it. It makes me feel kind of...." "Excited?" I ventured. "I-I...Well, I'm not sure, honey. How would that make you feel—I mean, with me being your father and all...." "I'd love it!" I exclaimed. "It would be flattering; I can't think of any man I'd rather have compliment me like that." "Well then, darling, to be honest you do excite me." He was staring at my tits once again and then looked in my eyes as he continued. "I can't believe you got me to say that. I'm afraid I might regret it, and it seems kind of perverted." "I think it's wonderful," I countered. "When you're excited over seeing me like this, does it do things to you like it does to me?" "I guess...kind of," he mumbled, looking down. "Like when my nipples get hard?" I suggested. "Geez, Lisa! You just won't stop," he objected. "Come on, Daddy; I've already admitted what happens to me. It's pretty obvious. But what about you?" "Please, Lisa," he objected. "Don't you think there's such a thing as too much openness?" "Not according to Mom. She always said we could be closer and should always be honest. So in all honesty, did you have those feelings when you first saw me?" "Of course not; give me some credit. At first I was shocked with your attire. All I felt was embarrassment, thinking no father should see his daughter so skimpily clad. I knew it was wrong to look, let alone have any feelings about it." "But I was just too sexy to resist, right?" "I-I...Dear God, I wish you wouldn't push this discussion. But, yeah, with a body like that, I guess I didn't stand a chance—even with my own daughter!" "So when did you lose the battle, Daddy. When did you start having those feelings?" "Now Lisa, I'm not really comfortable with this conversation." "Since when are we supposed to avoid communicating on things that make us uncomfortable?" I challenged. "It's not like I haven't taken some risks here, being open and honest about my feelings. It seems like you can do the same with me." "Fine; I'm against this, and...God, this is so embarrassing, but since you've shared I guess it's only fair that...Ok, I started having feelings when you were looking for the syrup and I-I...Aaahh...." "You got excited staring at my ass?" "Lisa!" He shook his head in dismay. "I didn't say that." "Oh, so you were getting excited seeing a bottle of syrup?" I laughed. "Ok, so I was looking," he conceded. I mean, those shorts...the way they show...Well, it's hard when...." "We know it's hard, and...." "Cut it out," Daddy interrupted. "You know what I mean. I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone could help looking—not with that body; the way it shows." "That's what I was hoping," I chuckled. "And you don't need to be so defensive; Nola told me all guys look." "But not fathers—not at their own daughters!" "I wouldn't be so sure," I countered. "Most just won't admit it. But don't you think most would look if they had a daughter dressing and looking like me," I cooed, sticking out my chest provocatively. "I guess you make a good point—or points," he chuckled nervously, continuing to leer at my tits. "The way you're dressed, how could anyone not look?" "Thanks, Daddy; you have no idea how special that makes me feel. And I think it's super that you're sharing your feelings like this." "Well, it's not like you gave me much choice. I'd have to be dead not to notice—the way those tight shorts show your long legs and everything else. God, honey! You have no idea how you look." "Well, I knew the front showed a little, but I...." "A little?" Daddy interrupted. "That's an understatement. I don't mean to offend you, but...Well, pumpkin, you should know, when you wear those shorts, you better not bend over." "Thanks for the warning, Daddy; you're sweet when you get all protective. I guess I should have known; Nola said I needed to be careful 'cause my ass was irresistible and I'd hook any guy who saw me in these." "Y-You wanted t-to be irresistible and hook m-me—your own father?!" "What do you think?" I teased, slowing licking my lips provocatively. "I think this is getting completely out of hand. What in God's name were you thinking, honey?" "What have you been thinking, Daddy?" I shot back. "Oh, wait; I already know. That was obvious from the way you were staring at my ass." "That doesn't mean anything, and I wouldn't say I was 'staring.'" He was still trying to minimize his interest, but I wasn't going to let him off the hook. "Oh really?" I challenged. "You were so focused on my rear; you didn't see me looking between my legs—straight back at you. Given your wide-eyed, gaping-mouthed look, staring doesn't begin to describe it; your eyes were glued to my ass." "Alright. Alright, so I was staring. I couldn't help it. For God's sake! With your bubble ass, the way those shorts hug you gives a whole new meaning to the word explicit." "I can only imagine." I shook my head, picturing his view of my ass. "But from what you say, and the feel of this seam going up the middle, you must have seen everything—a full-on view of my camel-toe!" "You're c-camel-toe?" Dad sounded dumbfounded. "Yeah, that's where my pussy lips are outline by the material that..." "For God's sake!" he interrupted. "Watch your language. I know damn well what it is; I just can't believe we're talking about it." "Your daughter's camel-toe?" I pushed, grinning as I observed him blushing. "Isn't that what you meant by 'everything'—my camel-toe?" "Dear God!" Daddy was looking down. "No father should ever see his daughter's nether in...I'm so sorry!" "For what? You just looked," I reassured. "But I kept looking...What in God's name was I thinking?" he cried. "Hopefully about what a sexy daughter you had and what it might be like to...." "Stop!" he interrupted, shaking his head in dismay. "I had no business doing that." "You haven't done anything—yet," I added suggestively. "Please don't make me feel bad about something so special between us, Daddy." "Special?" "Of course; I think it's special when you can be open with me about your feelings. Isn't that what's supposed to happen in families? Is that wrong?" "No, I-I guess not." "But when you put down on the feelings you have seeing me like this—feelings that come from how I dress—it makes me feel like it's wrong to try to be pretty for you." "I'm sorry, pumpkin. I do want you to feel good about your looks." "Even when I dress kind of naughty?" I pushed. "I'm not sure. But I guess when you're being naughty, you're still nice," he chuckled nervously. "Sorry, Daddy, but from all that Nola has taught me, I think I prefer naughty to nice. When I dress like this, I'm going for much more than nice." "I know, and you're more than nice, more than pretty." He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm not sure I should say this, but I'm sure you know it already—you're unbelievably sexy!" "Thank you, Daddy. As long as we're being honest, have you been...I mean, have you had feelings while we've been eating?" "I don't know that I should answer that but, yeah, I just can't help it. You've got about the sexiest pair of tits I've...Oh God, I'm sorry; I can't believe I just said that—about my own daughter!" "Please don't be sorry. I love to hear you talk that way. Nola said it helps break down barriers and is a turn-on. Seeing how hard my nipples are, I guess she was right." I observed, squeezing and caressing them once again. "Gaawd! I guess so, but I d-don't think sh-she meant us." "You liked how they moved when I poured the syrup?" I pushed. "God help me, yes!" "Do you need more syrup?" "No; I-I'm afraid I've about finished m-my pancakes." He was clueless. "I know, Daddy. But would you like to watch me pour some more?" "Aahh...God...I sh-shouldn't but...Maybe ahh...just a little m-more." "Ok," I responded, beginning to shake thin threads of syrup over his mostly empty plate, feeling my heavy orbs swinging tantalizingly in front of him. "How is that?" "Oh God! The way they move—unbelievable!" "W-would you like to t-touch them?" I asked hesitantly. "Aahh," he moaned. I watched with bated breath as his trembling hands moved up, and then—"Dear God! What am I doing?" He halted his move just short of the prize. "I-I want it, but I c-can't. Touching my daughter's tits? What kind of father am I? We h-have to stop," he insisted, dropping his hands. "Are you sure?" I pushed, massaging the soft mounds. "Oh God! You know I want it. But we just can't," he lamented. "You p-probably should c-cover some. But God, they're gorgeous!" "You're so sweet, Daddy," I bubbled, moving around to kiss him on the cheek as leaned over to ensure my tits were hanging in front of him. "Do these beauties bring up some feelings?" "Y-yeah; c-can't help it," he gasped. "What does it do to you?" "Wh-what do y-you mean?" "Well, seeing you stare at me makes me feel excited and my tips get hard." I observed, tracing circles around each nipple. "See?" "Aahh....y-yeah...Gaawwd!" he gasped. "So I wondered whether maybe you were excited and getting hard—in a different place." "I-I'd rather n-not say," he mumbled, finally looking down. "Come on, Daddy; that's not fair," I pouted, taking on a teasing tone. "With my boobs hanging out and my tips all hard and protruding like this, it's not like I can hide what you do to me. But I can't see what's happening to you...I mean, under the table. You're ok with me exposing myself, while you can watch and hide your feelings? Does that seem fair?" "No I-I guess not," He murmured hesitantly. "So how is it?" "How is what?" "Come on, Daddy; do those feelings make you get hard? Do I need to spell it out?" "Nnn-no, I guess not." He paused, still leaving me hanging. "So?" I paused, waiting his response, with growing irritation. "For God's sake, Daddy! Does seeing my tits make your cock hard?!"