Story Codes: MF, Incest (F/D), Slow "Angie" I had lunch with my daughter yesterday. She's a very lovely young lady, 19 years old, smart, and capable. She lives with her mother, my ex, and is working on a bachelor's degree in Chemistry at the State University campus here in town. She has a boyfriend, a nice solid young man. Both of them have their heads on straight, and are working to make good lives for themselves. I like to think she got her brains from me, but I'd never say that to the ex. She's also a pretty girl, with her mother's slender figure matched to my blue eyes and brown hair. No man, her father included, could miss the fact that she is a sexy little piece. While we were eating lunch, Angie mentioned that her car had given her trouble on the way to meet me. It had stalled three times and was making some suspicious noises. Under the terms of the divorce, her mother is responsible for her car, but I knew the ex had been going through some tight financial times, and didn't want to have my daughter driving an unreliable car in the city just on the sake of principle. My ex and I have a pretty good relationship as these things go - we help each other out now and then - so I thought I'd take care of this. "My friend Jack has a repair business not far from here," I said, "If you like I can give him a call and see if he can take it this afternoon, then run you back to school." "That would be great, Dad," Angie said, "I was worrying about whether Mom would be able to come get me if it died today." I called Jack on my cell, and he wasn't terribly busy. After lunch I drove the few blocks to his shop, Angie following me, with one eye on the rearview to make sure her car made it. Jack came out to greet us, and Angie described the symptoms the car displayed. Apparently it got better when the engine was warm, as it had worked perfectly on the way to the shop. We left him the keys, and I drove Angie back to campus, then went back to work. A few hours later, Jack called and said he couldn't find anything wrong, the car was working fine. Remembering what Angie said about the problem really appearing when the engine was cold, I suggested he keep it overnight and look at it again first thing in the morning. I called Angie and told her I'd pick her up from school when I got off work. Angie met me at the door of the chemistry building and got into my old truck. I explained what Jack had told me, and what I'd arranged. "Thanks for taking care of all this, Dad," but I'm going to need a car. Can I borrow one of yours until mine is ready?" Angie knows I have the truck for daily driving, and I have a BMW Z-3 for fun driving. I'd used the Z-3 a few years before to teach her to handle a manual transmission, but she hadn't driven it since then, and had been kind of scared of it. "The truck or the Bimmer?" I asked. She smiled at me. "I was thinking I'd like to try the BMW, if that's okay." I thought about it for a minute. Because I don't see her very often, I tend to spoil my daughter when I get to do something for her, and she was a very mature girl. "Okay, if you promise to be very careful," I said. We drove to my house and I parked the pickup in the driveway and opened the garage door. I took the key to the Z-3 off my keyring and handed it to her. Throwing her arms around me, she gave me a big smile and a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks so much for all your help, Dad!" she gushed. I quickly reminded her how the top worked, and how to park it. Angie got in, started it up, put it in reverse, and began to back out, stalling it before she got out of the garage. She managed to get it to the street with only one bouncing surge, then stopped and put it in first. She stalled it twice trying to get going, and I walked out to the street to give her some advice. "More gas, baby, before you bring the clutch up. And be smoother and slower with the clutch." She started out pretty well, but as she went down the street she spun the wheels a little shifting to second. I reminded myself that I had good insurance and a great mechanic, and that there were surely rewards for indulgent fathers. I went about my business for the evening, straightening the house, cooking dinner, watching some TV. Angie texted me twice on her progress. The second one read, "Got to the store and back without stalling once!" I went to bed pleased with myself for my good deed. While I was at work the next morning my phone rang. It was Angie, clearly upset. "Hi, Dad," she said, followed by a long pause. "What's up, kid?" I said, a sense of foreboding rising within me. "........Dad, I hit a bridge with the car." "Screw the car, are you alright, Angie?" I asked, anxiety rising to replace foreboding. "Yes, I'm okay, but the car..." I cut her off. "Don't worry about that. Where are you?" She gave me the location, a narrow bridge on her way to school, only a short distance from my office. "I'll be right there. You relax, take some deep breaths. Are the cops there? Do you need an ambulance?" "No, I'm fine. The police are here. Everything's okay. But the car..." Again I cut her off. "I can get another car. I can't get another you. Stay with the police, tell them I'll be there in 10 minutes." I told my secretary I'd be gone for the rest of the day and drove to the scene of the accident. I hugged Angie and questioned her closely about how she felt, making sure she was uninjured. It turned out the cop moonlighted as a security guard on campus, and knew her. It's always a blessing when the cops treat you like a human and not a perp. I shook his hand and thanked him for his help. He went back to writing his report, and I told him I'd call to have the car towed. It was bad, but looked like mostly bodywork. She'd lost control and nosed into the end of a concrete bridge abutment. The fender and hood were crunched, but I didn't see any leaking fluids, and the suspension seemed undamaged. BMW builds tanks. I got Angie into my truck, where she sat while talking to the officer, and called Jack. He said he'd be right over with the rollback, and by the way, he'd figured out what Angie's car needed, and it would be ready that afternoon. Then I called the ex at work and reported everything, telling her I was taking the rest of the day off and I'd make sure Angie was alright. Jack showed up and pulled the BMW loose from the bridge, then winched it onto the flatbed. I told him to take it to the shop and I'd call him later. The cop left, and I got into the truck with Angie. As I started the engine, I said, "It's alright, kid, it's just a car. We'll take care of it." She looked at me, her lip quivered a little bit, then she burst out in tears as all the emotion came out. She fell into my arms and bawled like a 5 year old. I held her close, knowing she just had to let it out. She cried softly in my arms for five minutes. I took an old bandanna from the glovebox and wiped her face. She sat back, still sobbing slightly, and I started the truck and headed off. "Where do you want to go, Kid? School, home, what?" "Your place, Dad," she said. I didn't understand the request, but my daughter was hurting, she'd have what she wanted. We drove to my house and I let her in, offering something to eat and something to drink. I brewed coffee and made us some brunch, eggs, toast, a small steak for each of us. Reaching under the counter, I got out 2 shot glasses and some bourbon, pouring us each a shot. She choked a little on hers, but got it down. We sat at the kitchen table to eat, and she explained how the accident happened. Sure enough, she'd still been having trouble getting the hang of the clutch, and it surprised her on a wet spot in the road. The back end snapped out and rotated enough to send her into the concrete. "Well, it's insured," I said, "don't worry about it." "I'm sorry, Dad," she said, "I'll make it up to you." I mouthed some platitudes about it being an accident, and I was just happy she was safe, but she wasn't having any of that. Getting up from her chair, she came around to stand behind mine, and started to rub my shoulders. "No, Dad," she said, "You're always so good to me. I really need to make it up to you." With that her hands slid down my chest and into my crotch, and her mouth came to my ear. "Especially now that I can really make it up to you." I jolted forward, but she held me firm against the chair as her hands sought out my gear through the front of my pants. "Just relax and enjoy it. Bobby says I'm really good." Bobby was her boyfriend. I wasn't foolish enough to think they weren't having sex, but the expression of the fact helped hoist my erection, already triggered by her sensuous touch, even faster. Angie swivelled my chair around and moved to her knees in front of me. Rapidly undoing my belt and unhitching my trousers, she began pulling everything down. Too horny, and too stunned, I could only react, lifting my hips to help her. She slid my pants and jockeys down, then pulled them off my legs and tossed them aside. She held my cock in her hands, softly stroking it. "It's been so many years since the last time I saw your cock, Dad. You don't know this, but when I was 12, I wanted you to fuck me with it. I used to peek to see it, and masturbate dreaming about it inside me." With that she leaned forward and took the head in her mouth, her tongue swirling around and around, wetting it. One hand cupped my balls, kneeding them gently, while the other gripped the base of my shaft, and began sliding up and down. Saliva dripped down from her mouth, providing lubrication to the sliding hand. Stopping for a moment to look directly into my eyes, she said, "I want you to cum in my mouth ....Daddy...." I wasn't too stunned to notice the reversion to the little-girl "Daddy." My daugther was living out a fantasy from her adolescence. Maybe she knew I had wanted her when she was 12, wanted her enough to slip into her bedroom some nights, pulling her covers down and her nightgown up to stare at her impossibly cute little ass while I jerked off into a tissue. In any event, my fantasy was coming true too, and my excitement rose as she went back to pumping my cock in and out of her mouth, stroking to the same motion with her hand. The hand on my balls moved away, and I could see the front of her blouse move as she began unbuttoning it, then opening it. Using both hands, she shrugged it off, then reached behind her to unlatch her bra, tossing this away as well. All the while her mouth continued to pump up and down, taking my cock deep inside. Rising up slightly, she once more held my cock in her hands, while rubbing it across her tight b-cup tits. I watched as her nipples were moistened with a mixture of my pre-cum and her saliva. Then she ducked her head again and went at my prick with a vengeance, pumping with her hand as the head went deeper and deeper in her mouth. "Soon, baby, soon," I warned, and the suction of her mouth only increased. All too soon, my hps began to jerk as the first spurts of my load expoded into her mouth. She held her mouth still and sucked hard as her hand stroked firmly and quickly, milking the load out of my balls. I felt her swallow, taking my load down into her belly, not wasting a precious drop. I collapsed back in my chair, drained emotionally and physically. "See, Daddy, I'm a big girl now. I make amends for my mistakes." "My God, you certainly do, baby," I said. Lowering my voice almost to a whisper I added, "I've wanted that since you were 12 too." Angie laughed out loud. "Guess it worked out then, huh?" and she kissed my softening cock. She didn't stop stroking my shaft as she sat back on her legs and looked up at me, and to my great surprise I quickly began to stiffen anew. I needed to try something for my own needs, and getting up from my chair I took Angie by the shoulders and brought her up with me. She was a tall girl, only an inch shorter than me, and we matched up perfectly. It felt odd that she was naked above the waist and I below, something I wanted to fix immediately. I kissed her on the mouth as she continued to manipulate my genitals, and reached down to undo her jeans. I slipped them down her hips along with her panties, and she stepped out of them, kicking them to join the pile of clothes we'd already created. Then I pulled my polo shirt over my head, throwing it aside as well. We were naked together, and I pulled her against me, my hands reaching down to cup the cheeks of the ass I'd masturbated over so long ago. Angie's hand remained on my cock, pressed between our bellies. Sliding my hand down her leg, I grasped her thigh and pulled it up along my waist, reaching under to caress her cunt. I hadn't touched her there since I last bathed her more than a dozen years before. I discovered it to still be bald, a short stubble indicating she had recently shaved it. "Thank you, Bobby," I thought to myself, and slid my fingers between the lips of the hairless pussy I had fantasized about. She was wet, and moaned into my mouth as our tongues danced. We stood there a few minutes, masturbating each other, kissing, enjoying the feelings. Angie twitched slightly, enjoying a tiny climax from my fingers. Finally, though the intimacy was so sweet, though this new expression of love for my daughter warmed my heart, the little head began talking to the big head. I needed to fuck this girl, and now. I put my hands on her hips, thinking for a moment of carrying her into my bedroom. I knew I couldn't wait that long. I gently turned her around and moved her to the kitchen island, coming up behind her and pressing my cock against her pert little ass. Sensing what I had in mind, Angie bent forward over the counter, smiling back at me and extending her arms above her head. As I mentioned, we're about the same height, so there was no problem with bending to reach. Taking my cock in my hand, I pressed it between her thighs. With no trouble at all it found the entrance to paradise, and the head slid between the lips of her cunt. She moaned softly, and I pressed forward. She was so wet, so well lubricated, that I slid slowly into her in a single stroke. Her pussy was tight, and I felt the walls separating to accommodate my shaft. "Oh, Daddy," she moaned, "I want this." I continued pressing slowly until I felt my pubic hair against her labia. Taking her hips in my hands, I began pumping slowly in and out, pulling myself almost all the way out before pressing inward again. Angie moved her hands to grab my hips and pull me hard against her, harder with each thrust. Having only recently emptied my balls, I could go for a while, but Angie was fucking me as much as I was fucking her. I felt her interior muscles grasping at my cock as I pulled back, then opening as I thrust forward. Holding her hips, I spread the tight cheeks of her ass to get as deep as I could, exposing her tiny little rosebud. Her tight little asshole tightend and loosened in concert with the muscles inside her pussy. "I'm going to cum, Daddy," Angie said, rasping out the words through rapid breaths, "Fuck me hard and cum with me." Her hands on my hips set the pace for us both, her cunt drove me wild with its tightness and rhythmic contractions. I was losing control. "Soon, baby," I said, and she responded, "Me tooooooooooo, Oh, Oh, Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, Nowwwww!" Pulling hard at her hips, I jammed my cock as deep as I could get it into her little hole, my second load in less than a half-hour exploding inside her. The rhythmic contractions of her cunt were gone, replaced by random spasms as her passion soared. Her thighs quivered against mine as I pumped her full of sperm. I lay down on her, my cheek resting on her back, kissing every bit of skin I could reach as my breathing and heartrate returned. Angie moved her arms back above her head, her tits flat against the countertop, and moaned softly. I don't know how long we lay there that way, but I was happy to let everything rest as it was. After a while my cock softened so much that it slipped out of her with a small wet sound. Finally, as our vital signs returned to normal, Angie straightened up, taking me with her. Turning around in my arms, she leaned back against the counter and took my head in her hands. Drawing it to her face, she kissed me gently, lovingly, our open mouths pressed together while our tongues sought each other out. Then she put her head on my shoulder, holding me against her. "I'm really sorry about your car, Daddy," She whispered. I rocked her gently side-to-side in my arms. "I don't care about the car, Dear one," I whispered back, "As long as I have you."