9 comments/ 70132 views/ 16 favorites Walk In Ch. 01 By: CookieCutter I don't know why so many of the stories here start out with an accidental encounter, then get up to top speed in a matter of a few paragraphs. When I walked in on my dad jacking himself off, believe me: we did NOT go from zero to fuck in sixty seconds. There was a lot that happened in the middle. Looking back on it now, I wouldn't change anything that happened! Introductions out of the way first: call me Jessica, which is what my dad named me, after the Allman Brothers tune. There was a time growing up when I totally hated that tune, but I'm cool with it now. Music is a big part of what I have in common with dad: people like Paul Simon and Billy Joel and Joni Mitchell. Kids my age (which is eighteen) would dismiss them as oldies, which is weird because they're all still around, but I like them. My dad's name is Todd, but I always just call him Dad, or Daddy when I was real little. Other times too, like the first time he ass-fucked me and when I came I yelled "DADDYYYYYYYYYYY!"—just like that. Maybe I should have written "Spoiler Alert" or something; three paragraphs in and already I'm telling things out of order. I'll try to watch that from now on. No guarantees, though. My mom was named Amy, and you're probably wondering why she didn't stop Dad and me from fucking. That's because she died when I was about one year old. I don't remember much about her at all. Dad took a lot of videos of Mom when they got married, and before I was born. He kept them hidden from me for years, because they were porno. They kinda inspired Dad and me, but not the way you'd think. Just keep reading. Like those videos, my sex education was basically "do it yourself." We got the basics in school, and there were library books that covered the rest. Anyway, by the time I had my first period, I knew what was happening and why. That's more than I can say for some of the girls in my class. We'd all talk about it in the locker room after gym class or swimming, and there would always be one or two girls who were totally freaked out because they didn't know what was happening. They had parents who were very strict or very religious; anyway, they thought I was so sophisticated because I always had tampons in my backpack if they needed one. A bunch of times I was the one who taught them how to put it in. You'd think it would have messed me up, helping a bunch of other girls my age figure out their own bodies. I swear I saw, and touched, a dozen pussies before I got to high school. But they were almost all bald and all of them bleeding, and I never got turned on by any of that. Anyway, I felt like a nurse or something, and I guess, thanks to that, I just got off to a slow start. The sex ed books all had pictures of dicks in them, but for some reason not erections. They were just limp and sorta hung there in the pictures, and I couldn't see how sex was supposed to work from THAT. For a long time I didn't know what sex was supposed to be with a floppy thing like that. That's where my friends came in—my tampon friends. Some of the girls I went to junior high with lived in my neighborhood, and we were always visiting each other's houses, and at one point we formed our own club: The Ancient Mystic Protective Association of Xperts. (Read the initials; we thought we were being cute.) We did all of the girly things, like go to movies together and have sleepovers. One time we were over at the house of Maria (or Not Marie, as she always introduced herself), and we were up around midnight, and between the sugar rush from a steady stream of sodas and our guesses and rumors about boys and what they did with girls, we were all pretty giddy. That was when Not Marie brought out The Monster. She had found it in her big sister's drawer or a box in the attic; she wasn't too clear about that. But she brought out a plain cardboard box, and took off the lid, and there inside was what looked like a pair of black silk panties. But then she produced The Sacred Relic (an empty Tampax box) and we had to all touch the Sacred Relic and swear secrecy for whatever we saw or did that night. Then Not Marie pulled off her nightgown, dropped her panties, and slipped on the black silk pair in the box. But this pair had something hanging off the front. It was a beige colored plastic dick. She danced around the room for a bit and we were laughing it up, and it still didn't register in my mind that this was what a guy's dick was supposed to look like when it was ready for sex. Until she said: "Who wants to go first?" Everyone in the room stopped talking. This was something you couldn't hide from a doctor, even if you could lie about it to a parent. She was giving us a chance to have sex with her plastic prick, and it was the closest we'd ever been to actual fucking. After all, there was another person behind the plastic—someone who would push the cock into you, and pull it back, and do all the other things we'd joke about in private, like how boys would suck on your earlobe, or lick your neck, and we'd never done any of that so we didn't understand what the point was. It was about a minute, but it seemed longer, when Eileen, we just called her Leen, pulled off the sleep shirt she was wearing. She was bare-ass naked under it. She grabbed Not Marie by the hand and pulled her to the bed, saying "Fuck my cherry; it's not doing me any good where it is." And they started making out on the bed. We didn't say anything or try to stop them; the whole scene was just too -- alien. We watched in silence as Leen and Not Marie started kissing each other; big long kisses, so long I was afraid one of them would pass out. But then you'd hear them breathing loud and heavy through their noses as they lip-locked and tongue-wrestled. "Shit, that looks so hot." That was Bev, who lived two houses down from me. Even though we were almost neighbors, we weren't really close friends, even though I initiated her into the Association. She was standing right behind me, watching over my shoulder as the two girls kept making out on the bed. I had almost forgot Bev was there, until she grabbed my hand, squeezed it real tight, then pulled it over and put it on her naked stomach (she was just wearing a bra and panties). I could feel the waistband of her panties under my fingertips. Did she want me to reach inside, to finger her pussy? She wasn't saying anything; she just kept putting more and more pressure on my hand as Leen started moaning and Not Marie started rubbing the end of the plastic prick up and down Leen's slit. That was when I finally moved. Actually, I ran. I ran out of the room, down the stairs and into the backyard in about ten seconds. I caught my breath for a few seconds in the black moonless night before I ran through the gate at the rear of the yard into the yard of my own house. I went in through the sliding patio door, then ran up the stairs to my room, locked the door—which I hardly ever did—and jumped into bed. "Are you okay, Jess?" That was dad's voice. I guess he wasn't expecting me home until morning. I had to come up with something. "I'm fine, Dad. It's just my stomach's a bit messed up." "You want some seltzer? Some aspirin?" "I'll get something a little later if I still need it. To tell the truth, the sleepover was ... getting a little lame. Maybe I'm getting to be too old for that stuff." "Well, don't grow too old too soon, babes. See you in the morning." "G'night Dad." What; was I supposed to tell him the truth? "The party got too weird when two of my girlfriends started making out right in front of all of us, and another friend wanted me to play with her pussy." That would have gone over real big. My Daddy couldn't have approved of that; he wasn't a perv. But I was wrong, and I'd find that out later that night. Oops. Spoiler Alert, I guess. xxx I paced around my room for like an hour trying to sort everything out. The sleepover had turned completely weird, and the really weird part was that, now that I was out of there and back in my room, I was sorry. Part of me wanted to be back in Not Marie's bedroom watching as she used her plastic dick to take Leen's cherry. Part of me wanted to have my hand back on Bev's stomach, and then slide it down bit by bit into her underpants, feeling the little cushion of hair she had over her pussy, but this time I wasn't going to be clinical about it and help her stick a tampon in her hole for the first time. I wanted to stick my finger in her pussy because, well, because I wanted to; because I wanted to turn her on, and wanting to turn her on was turning me on. I knew that because I could feel how wet my own pussy was just thinking about my friends' pussies, which never happened to me before. Was this like just a natural response to seeing what I saw? Then why hadn't that ever happened before? I mean, I'd seen them naked often enough, changing for gym class and stuff. I didn't know the answer to that, but I figured dad would know the answer. I went down the hall to his room. It was one in the morning, but this wasn't the first time I went looking for my dad at that hour, for some advice or some company or someone to share a joke with or a shoulder to cry on. My dad was a night-owl, so I was one too. Of course, his door was closed more often than not, so I usually knocked first, because, hey, I wouldn't want him just walking in on me. Only this time I was just about to knock when I heard this groan from inside his room, which wasn't like anything I'd heard before. Looking back, it still made sense to me that the first thing I thought was HEART ATTACK, so I just opened the door and walked in. "Are you okay, dad? I -- OMIGOD!" I almost fell into the hall, closed the door, and went back to my room, with my cheeks feeling like they were on fire. Dad was sitting in front of his computer, like he did almost every night. But this time his pants and underpants were on the floor around his ankles. His hand was squeezing his cock, which was all fat and pointed straight up, and had white stuff like frosting almost that was all on his cock and his hand. I walked in on my dad jacking off. The first hard cock I ever saw, the first cum shot I ever saw, and it was my dad. Un-fucking-real. I couldn't go back to his room now; I could hardly remember why I wanted to talk to him in the first place. I just sat on my bed and waited for him to say ... something; anything. I must have waited half an hour for him, but finally there was a light tap on my door. "Are you okay if I come in?" "Yeah." I was sitting on my bed still, and I guess he knew how weird the whole thing was, because he pulled up a chair and sat across from me, not saying anything for about a minute. Finally, he looked up at me, and he had this little grin on his face like he was embarrassed. "That was the second most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me." I couldn't help it; when he said that, I started laughing a bit. Dad could always do that to me. "Should I ask what the worst thing was?" "Actually, that was another time I was, erm, beating off. But I was thirteen, and my mom walked in on me." "How bad was it?" "She stormed out of the room, didn't say a word to me until the next day, and then she never said anything about it ever again." I remembered his mom—Grandma Peggy, I used to call her—and I could believe it. She didn't seem like the friendliest person on earth, which made me wonder how her son had turned out to be such a nice guy and a good father. "Anyhoo," he said, and I could see him starting to blush again, "I'm sorry you walked in on that." "I guess it's no big deal, really," I said, trying to be as cool about it as he was. "You're not a kid, and you've seen porn before, I guess." "Well, this wasn't that kind of porn. I mean, it was, but it wasn't." "I don't get it." "I was." He stopped, like he really had to get his nerve up to say this. "I was watching some old videos, from years ago. Sex videos." He stopped again, and almost whispered the next part: "Me and your mother." Like I said, I was a baby when mom died, and I couldn't remember her at all. But I could hardly imagine my dad taping himself having sex, even with his wife—my mother. "Jess, you have to understand. She's been gone for years, but I still miss her something powerful. Sometimes I get so lonely and so gloomy about it that I look at one of the videos and, you know." That explained a lot. It also, and I could feel it happening, broke my heart. "Is that why you never remarried?" "A lot of women can't handle being a step-parent; a lot of guys, too, for that matter. There's no clear lines you can draw about discipline and affection and all that stuff. It just never worked out with another woman. Besides, watching those videos remind me of what I had with your mother." "It was special?" "Yeah; it was special." I thought about it all for a minute, then asked, and I don't know why: "Can I see the tapes?" While we talked he was looking at me; now he kinda stared at me. "Erm, Jess, it's still porn. It's grownups having sex, and close-ups of the act and the whole thing." "Well, I just saw you close up; that's half the battle." You can see I inherited my dad's sense of humor. "Let's just let it go for tonight; it's late, and it's kinda weird. We ought to talk about this in the clear light of day." "Okay; that makes sense." Dad got up off the chair, kissed me on top of my head—which is one of his favorite gestures, and has been for years. He turned to go, but I glomped my arms around his legs and just held him for a minute. I knew he couldn't stay, but I wanted him to, at least a little longer. Before he pulled away, I was able to smell him. I knew it was a mix of his sweat and his semen. It smelled spicy and somehow warm, if anything can smell warm, but it was my daddy and I love him and I loved that smell. It was kinda close to, but different from, the way the room was smelling at Not Marie's house earlier that weird night. But I knew I liked both smells, which I don't think I could have said before. I got into bed and, to get to sleep, fingered myself, thinking about my hand on Bev's pussy and Not Marie fucking Leen with the dildo and dad beating off to videos of my mom. Dad was right, I thought right after my cum; this whole night was kinda weird. xxx Walk In Ch. 02 I didn't ask Dad about anything that morning, or for another week. I had the chance: he works out of our house, in case you were wondering. Personal computers came out when he was in school, and he got completely into them; not just using them, but inside and out. He could fix just about anything wrong with any model, old or new, so after a few years at college he set himself up as a repairman and consultant. He got a lot of business locally because he was so good with computers and charged a fair price, so we always lived pretty well. Sometimes he had to go out of town on a contract, but he always arranged for some lady or other to watch me and the house, and they never gave us any trouble. So he spent the week working like he usually does and I spent the week thinking about sex. This was new to me; not sex, but thinking about it so hard for so long, and how it made me feel. The only way I can say it made me feel was, well, sexy, which sounds kinda stupid but it isn't when it happens to you for the first time in your life. I knew about jilling myself off with my hand, but I didn't think I was ready to stick anything in my pussy. I started seeing a gynecologist when I had my first period, and she said my hymen was still pretty thick and only had enough holes in it to let the blood out each month. She actually warned me that my first sex would probably hurt and I should be ready for that. After a while I forgot about it—I mean, as far as I was concerned, my first sex was years and years away—but I guess it kinda stayed in the back of my mind 'cause I remembered it without really thinking about it. Maybe that's why I was worried about Not Marie's plastic prick. So I didn't stick anything in my pussy, not even my finger, because of what the gynecologist said. That week, though, I did kinda-sorta experiment with butt-sex. I'd be taking a shower, which I would have done anyway because the weather was so hot, and I'd get one of those travelling toothbrush holders. They were tubular and pretty long; kinda like a small flashlight. And my butt-ring actually felt kinda good when I rubbed the outside of it with the shower water pouring all down my back and into my crack. So finally I thought the holder would feel better so I started to work it in. And it felt kinda good, just a little bit, so I moved it in and out, slow at first, then a bit faster, and then faster, until—it really started to hurt! The plastic was too hard, so I took it out and I half expected to see blood on it. There was no blood, but there was other stuff, which considering where it had been wasn't surprising. That turned me off for a few days, and so did wrapping up the toothbrush holder and getting it in the garbage without dad knowing about it. That slowed down my exploration of this new part of my life, but didn't stop it. There were a couple of nights I stayed awake after midnight just to sneak to daddy's door and listen to him. He must have been careful not to moan again, as if he knew I was there, and he kept the volume on his computer down, so I couldn't hear anything through the door. After a couple of days with nothing to show for it—from him anyway; I was having a great old time frigging myself in the hall and imagining what was going on with him—I knew I had to take a more direct approach. About a week after I walked in on dad, we were having Sunday dinner. We'd either try to cook something fancy or order out, even though we did that a lot on weeknights when dad was out on a job and didn't get home until late. We both liked trying recipes and stuff in the kitchen, and some of the results were pretty good. This night was spaghetti and meatballs, but the meatballs were ground turkey with chopped spinach in them. Turned out they were pretty good. After we were done eating, but before we started clearing the table, I asked dad: "How come you don't have any pictures of mom around?" "To tell the truth, I didn't think to take any when we were dating, and after that there wasn't time. She passed too soon." "But, you guys took the videos, right?" He looked at me like I was a snake escaped from the zoo or something; like he was trying to figure me out if I was going to attack him or just stare at him. "You're still interested in that?" "Well, duh! I've never seen a picture of her, and I'd like to." "Even though we're ... doing what we're doing?" "You mean sex? Yeah, I want to see that." "Why?" "Because there's a lot you've told me about mom, but you never talked about that. I think I'm old enough now to handle it." Dad didn't say anything, and didn't move a muscle. I tried some more. "It shouldn't be that big a deal. I mean, I saw you last week, and everything. And I know you saw me with nothing on when I was little." "VERY little, Jess; not even two years old! And I think you've changed a little bit since you flashed that church." It was a family joke. When I was about two years old dad and I were walking past a church that had a nice garden, complete with a fountain spraying water. So I just ran to it and stood in the spray. Then I must have thought I was taking a shower or something, because I took off my clothes (which wasn't much anyway) and kept on splashing in the fountain. But just then a wedding party comes out of the church to take pictures, and I started running in and out and around the bride and groom and everybody else. A bare-butt-naked two year old girl messing up their wedding pictures, playing keepaway from my dad, and having the time of my life. He'd tease me about that about once a year. It was kinda nice that he still remembered all that. Anyway, we were both sitting quiet, not getting up to clear the table or anything. Finally, dad said, "You've thought about this a lot?" I nodded. "So you've also figured out what you want to do about it." "Can we go to Point Cardinal?" Point Cardinal was a small strip of beach on the ocean about a ninety-minute drive from where we lived. I'd never been before, because it was "clothing optional". But by all the stories I heard about it, it wasn't optional anything; it was a nude beach. "And this is going to help you how?" I had actually thought up an answer to that question and had even rehearsed it, but now I was nervous and tripped over my words a bit. "Well, I guess you're worried about me looking at you, and also about you looking at me..." "And you're not worried?" I had to stop. "Well, yes, a little." Now that I was on the spot like this, I couldn't remember whether I really was nervous about daddy seeing me naked again after all this time, but I just went on. "I mean, I guess I'm a bit worried about total strangers checking us out. But they're total strangers, and they won't know us and we won't know them. And really I just want to spend a day with you." "And when are we supposed to have this day at the beach?" "How about tomorrow?" "No good. I have to debug some old software for the school district. Might take a few days. How about later in the week?" "How about you just show me mom's videos?" You know how in books they sometimes have a character who's asked a question and they say all the color drained out of his face? That's exactly what I saw happen to dad when I said that. So I knew he still thought showing me those videos was pretty serious. So I said, "Just kidding. We'll have a day at the beach. Sometime this week, right?" xxx But it almost didn't happen. Daddy's work for the school district office kept him busy for four days, and it wasn't until he came home that Thursday night that he said the assignment was over. But he still looked kinda nervous as he said, "Well, there's a fifty-fifty chance of rain tomorrow, but if you want to risk it, we could still do Point Cardinal." "That'll be great. Thank you, daddy." But I really didn't feel all that great. I was nervous, and I could see he was nervous. But I really really REALLY wanted to see those videos of my mom, even though they were sex videos, partly because they WERE sex videos, so I put on a brave face for daddy and pretended I wasn't nervous about the whole thing. But I was. We left next morning after breakfast. We took beach blankets, some food, tanning lotion, and I had a couple of books and magazines. I was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, with no underwear; that made me feel real daring. But I also brought along a terrycloth beach jacket, shorter than a robe; I brought that just in case I chickened out when I got to the beach. There was a parking lot about a fifteen-minute walk from the beach, and it had a huge sign listing all of the rules. It said there was no alcohol allowed, no utensils of any kind, no glass bottles; most of it was the usual beach warnings. But at the end of the list, like they wanted to sneak it in, it said that partial or total nudity was allowed but "overt sexual displays"—whatever that meant—could get you kicked out. We just kinda read that sign a few times; all of a sudden we weren't in a rush to get to the beach. "This is your last chance to chicken out, Jess." I guess he could tell I was nervous but I just said, "We came this far, so let's have some fun." And we walked down to the beach. We heard it before we saw it: the waves weren't so big, but they were loud enough for the sound to carry as they broke on the beach. The path cut between two tall sand dunes; it felt almost like going through a tunnel, and I remember thinking that having a real tunnel that emptied out onto the beach would really be an "overt sexual display", in a way. But we passed between the dunes and then the path ended on the beach. It was a nice sunny day, warm but not hot, and about two dozen people were already there. Some of them had swimsuits on, so the stories I'd heard about it were wrong. But there were also women who had their tops off, and about half the people were totally nude. Some of them were young and some were older, which didn't look all that great. The women on towels getting tans either had their legs closed together, or spread wide. I guess that didn't count as an "overt sexual display" since nobody seemed to make a big deal of it. The women sure didn't seem to care if anybody looked at their pussies. The men I saw were kinda the same; their dicks were (I guess) full but not erect. They just kinda pointed down instead of straight out or up. Most guys had come with a woman, but some were there alone, and I saw two guys walking down the beach holding hands. Daddy walked next to me as we looked for a place to set up. He was close, maybe a little closer than usual. It occurred to me that he was looking out for me in a strange place, which made me feel warm on the inside. I mean, I always loved my daddy, but this was knowing that he loved me too, which always feels good. We found an open stretch near the water's edge, a place not too close to anyone else. I think we both thought that getting into a random conversation with a naked stranger—man or woman—was just a bit too weird for today. So we set down our towels, unpacked what we needed, and started to take stuff off. I waited a bit until daddy started, and then I started taking my own clothes off slower. I wanted to see him first, no longer sure of what I'd see. When I saw him in his room after he'd jerked off, his hand was still wrapped around his cock and there was sperm all over it. This time he was like the other guys on the beach: his cock was kinda hard but hanging down. It was like I didn't really see it last week so I tried to get a long, long look at it now. He noticed that, of course, and maybe I was embarrassing him by staring, which I didn't realize I was doing, 'cause he said, "Waiting for an engraved invitation?" "Oh. Er, sorry dad." "Well, you're the one that wanted to go to Rome, so it's time to get like the Romans." His joking about it made me feel both more nervous and less nervous, if that makes any sense. He wanted to say it wasn't such a big deal, but it still was, especially since I was still looking at his dick. So I pulled off my t-shirt. My tits aren't real big, but they're big enough; it was a headache having to shop for bras. I mean, no way was I gonna drag daddy along on that errand. So I had to find a friend who was free that day so we could go to the mall together. It didn't really matter who went with me. This time, though, the instant I took off the t-shirt I could feel my nips tighten up. Daddy may not have been erect but I was. Fortunately, the way my tits are, there's not much difference in how I look when my nipples are erect. But, damn, there was a difference in how I FELT. I was so self-conscious about them, even though nobody could tell the difference, that I was really worried now about taking off my cargo shorts. I started feeling wet down there, and was sure I'd get busted for an "overt sexual display" even if I didn't even plan on it. But then I realized nobody was looking at me, except daddy, and he wasn't staring or anything. So, like I was on a diving board, I took a breath and dropped my shorts. Now that I was as naked as most of the people there, it felt kinda nice. I didn't stand out as a newcomer or anything like that. I looked over at dad, and he had ... a kinda weird look on his face. I can't describe it. So I asked, "What's the matter?" It was like the question woke him up out of a nap. "Nothing, Jess. Just thinking how nice you look." "Yeah, thanks. You look, erm, nice, too. I guess." His smile got wider. "I think the worst part is over now, so let's just relax and have a day at the beach like we planned." I wasn't even sure that was possible any more. But I stretched out on my stomach, grabbed one of the books I brought, and started reading it. I kinda worried about passers-by seeing my pussy so I tried not to let my legs go limp and open up, but after a few minutes of reading and getting some sun on me I stopped worrying about it. From where we were on the beach, it looked like nobody else was worried about being stared at or stuff like that. And I never even thought that my butt was anything sexy. After about half an hour of lying like that, reading a pretty cheesy romance-werewolf novel that had a little bit of sex in it, and I was up on my elbows holding the book and taking sips from a juice box which sounds kinda juvenile but makes a lot more sense on the beach than a can or anything, I asked my dad if he could put some tanning lotion on me. I felt like I really was starting to burn, or at least felt the sun was getting to be a bit much, and that's all I thought of it. And that's all I thought about it—until he actually squirted lotion on my back and started to rub it in. Father or not, he was the first grown man I ever had touch my bare back, and I liked the feel of his fingers, warm and strong, rubbing me in a way I can only describe as "just right". It was kinda relaxing and exciting at the same time, and by exciting I mean I could feel my pussy getting a little wet, and I was just starting to wonder in my mind if he could see it or maybe even smell it when he asked, "Back's done, anything else?" I didn't even think about it; I just said ""My butt, please." So now I felt the lotion and the strong warm fingers again, but this time below the waist. It felt like he was massaging my buttcheeks, kneading them almost like they were bread dough, and for a second it was like I was standing outside myself on the beach, watching my naked father running his hands over my naked me, working my buttcheeks and moving them apart so he could get a look at my buttring, which felt like it had a mind of its own at that moment and was hoping that my daddy would slip his hand down even on a public beach and rub my hole with his big thumb and maybe stick it in a little bit, and that's when my clit felt stiffer than my nips ever had and I came a little bit right there on the beach thinking about it, and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud. Part of me didn't want to let my dad know what I was feeling, but another part of me didn't care if the whole beach knew about it. I wanted it to go on. So I just yelled "Surf's up!" and scrambled to my feet and ran into the water, looking out to sea the whole time and not back at him. I waded out until I was up to my waist before I turned around to see if Daddy was following me... And he was. I reached down and splashed some sea water on my arms, then I splashed some more on my chest. But actually it was an excuse to play with my nipples, which were super-tight right now and demanding attention. That just made me feel even hotter, and so did watching my naked father coming toward me, with what looked like his thick cock standing up a bit more than it did on the beach. And I thought, That's for me, because of me; I turned him on! I sloshed a couple of steps toward him. We were still in water up to our waists when I hugged him tight and said, "I love you, daddy." "I love you too, Jess." Then I looked up into his eyes and said, "Kiss me." And he did. You know that song about the guy with moves like Mick Jagger? You know the part that goes "Kiss me till I'm drunk"? That was exactly how it felt when he kissed me, and I kissed him back, and we didn't stop for like a minute. We kept on, and I almost fell off my legs when our mouths opened just enough for his tongue to lick my tongue, and then I licked it right back, and my brain just stopped thinking about everything. Almost everything. After kissing long enough to feel really dizzy, I looked down into the water, and it was so clean and clear and unpolluted, I could see daddy's cock sticking straight out of the hair below his stomach, and I couldn't help myself from grabbing the head of it, sticking out swollen and dark like some kind of seashell, but warm and tender. And I started running my fingers up and down my daddy's cock, slow at first, like I was still getting used to it, but that didn't take long because I wrapped my fingers around his cock and started jacking him off even though I didn't know how and I'd never done it before, but he didn't try to stop be, he just kept holding me in his arms and breathing kinda heavy... And the next thing I know there's like white stuff in the water, not like the cum on his dick from last week, but like kite string just hanging there in the water. And it hit me: I just jacked off my father! I just made him cum! Just then, a cold wind blew right across the water, which made it feel like the temperature just dropped twenty degrees, and gray clouds were gathering. We didn't say anything as we got out of the sea, dried off, and I pulled on my shorts and t-shirt. We gathered everything and made a run for the parking lot. We loaded up and pulled out just as the rain started falling. And it fell all the way home. I didn't say anything for most of the drive, mainly because I didn't know what to say. I mean, I started to say Daddy, I'm sorry; but then, could I say for what? For jacking him off? I didn't think I could even say that out loud to him, but I managed to just say "Daddy..." when he spoke: "I guess that wasn't a good idea after all." For the rest of the drive I wondered if he meant going swimming at all, or going to a nude beach, or kissing in the ocean, or him getting a hand-job from his own daughter. Part of me wanted to say it was all a bad idea, but part of me remembered every detail of every second and wanted it to happen again, and again, and I couldn't stand it. I told him I needed to use the bathroom, so he pulled into the first gas station we saw. I jumped out of the car, ran to the bathroom, got in the stall, and frigged myself to two climaxes in a row nonstop. This time I let myself moan; the second time was almost a scream. I don't know if the gas station people heard me, and I didn't care. The rain was still falling, so I doubted daddy could hear me, but a weird little part of my brain wanted him to hear me, and that's what brought me off the second time. Walk In Ch. 02 Thinking about sex and my dad. I was all out of breath, like when we were running back to the parking lot. I just sat there, looking at my hand. Last Sunday daddy's hand was covered with his cum; now, my hand was covered with my cum. I looked at it; then I sniffed it. That was no big; I'd smelled my cum before. But this was the first time I licked it. And it didn't taste like it smelled; the smell was stronger somehow. The taste wasn't funky and wasn't nasty, but it made me think of the sleepover and whether things went farther after I left. I had pictures in my mind of Not Marie fucking girls with her plastic prick, but I also pictured some of my friends licking my pussy and that was just too weird! I never thought anything like that before! I didn't want them doing that now. But I did have to attack my clit again and cum for a third time before I went back to the car. I expected daddy to make some sort of joke about how long I was gone, but it felt like I was blushing like a Hollywood sunset. Maybe I was, because he just looked at me and didn't say anything. And I didn't say much of anything to him for a couple of days. But I was thinking; I was thinking a lot.