Copyright (c) 2018, Hardguy. ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication: 
Thursday, April 19, 2018


Author: Hardguy
Title: Daddy's Bed
Summary: Alan encounters the unexpected when his daughter repeatedly asks to sleep with him.
Keywords: M/f/g, f/g, ped, inc, dad/dau, bro/sis, 1st, cons, mast, preg

The following story is a work of fiction, meant to entertain the 
reader.  It may contain offensive language of a graphic sexual 
and/or violent nature and details many activities which are highly 
illegal in much of the modern world.  I do not condone or encourage 
any activity that may be harmful to the wellbeing of a minor, no 
matter the circumstances.  Please realize that there is a line 
between being a pedophile and being a child molester.  Any time 
that line is crossed, an innocent life is destroyed and a monster 
is created.  Please do your part to ensure that all children are 
kept safe from those who cannot see that line.

Thank you.


      Daddy's Bed

      Written by Hardguy



      Chapter 1

      "Daddy, can I sleep with you tonight?"

      That was how it started.  My 11-year old daughter complaining 
of insomnia and loneliness, the solution to which was in her mind 
crawling in bed with me, the only parent she unfortunately had.  I 
had gotten her mother pregnant in a one-night-stand on a business 
trip I took to Australia, and it was almost nine years later that I 
learned I had left anything behind other than my tie half a world 
away.  I still wasn't sure how they found me, but poor little 
Trisha needed me.  Her mother had died suddenly from a brain 
aneurysm, and as her parents had already passed away, the little 
girl was without anybody to take care of her.

      "Sure, sweetheart," I replied.  She flashed me a shy grin and 
bounded onto the bed, her braided hair bouncing as she clambered 
over to me and kissed my cheek.

      "Thank you, Daddy," she said with that endearing accent she'd 
brought with her from the Land Down Under.  Although we'd been 
living together for the last two years, I was still finding 
something new about her every day.  Today's discovery?  She'd 
sprouted a pair of tiny tits.  This I learned as she pulled back 
from the kiss on the cheek she'd just given me, her nightshirt 
hanging down to reveal the pink little peaks jutting out from her 
chest.  She must have noticed my staring, as she regarded me with a 
curious look.

      "What is it, Daddy?"

      "Your shirt, sweetheart...it's, uh, kind of loose."  That 
only seemed to puzzle her more, until she looked down and her eyes 
grew big at what she saw.

      "Oh wow!" she shouted.  "I have boobies, Daddy!  My boobies 
are growing!"  It seemed she was as surprised by their appearance 
as I was.  Hurriedly, and without regard for me being right there 
in her presence, she pulled off the nightshirt and began to grope 
and rub the little bumps, with only her panties keeping her one 
step away from full nudity.  This made me somewhat uncomfortable to 
watch.  While she was woefully immature and my own daughter to 
boot, there was still the fact that I, as a man, had a rather 
predictable reaction to seeing a pair of bare breasts.

      "Yes, sweetheart, it would appear that you do," I said with 
nervous laughter, looking away.  I really didn't know what to do 
now.  While she had no hang-ups about baring her chest around me, I 
still wanted to respect her privacy.  As you might imagine, after 
two years together, I'd caught a few looks at her in the buff, 
always with a blush and a hurriedly placed hand between her legs on 
her part.  It would appear however that her sense of modesty went 
no higher than her belly.  She laid down beside me, and frowned as 
her new toys seemingly melted back into her chest.

      "Awww..." she whined.  "They went away.  I look like a boy 
again."  There was a smart remark I felt like making just then, but 
the less attention drawn to the sizable bulge below my waist the 
better.

      "Do you like them, Daddy?  Your willy is getting big."  She 
surprised me with that observation.  I'd certainly never taught her 
about erections or what causes them.  Must have been one of her 
little friends at school, or something she saw on TV.

      "I, uh...they're very...um...nice, Trish," I sputtered 
nervously, trying not to look at her.

      "I made your willy grow, didn't I?" she giggled at me.  
"Mummy told me that boys did silly things when a girl made their 
willy big."  That mystery was quickly solved.  I knew of course 
that her mother hadn't been too much of a prude seeing as how it 
had taken only a few drinks and a dance for me to be sweating atop 
her.  She'd had quite a mouth on her too that night.  Perhaps Trish 
had picked up a little street smarts over those nine years in her 
mother's care.

      "Okay, that's enough talk, cute stuff.  Put your nightshirt 
back on and get some sleep," I told her, avoiding the question with 
my authority.

      "You're no fun," she grumbled and pulled the shirt on over 
her head.  She burrowed under the covers and lay on her side, 
keeping a vigil over the lump in my sheets.  Unfortunately for her 
I came to the end of a chapter in my book, and switched off the 
light.

      "Goodnight, sweetheart," I told her as I kissed her forehead 
and settled down beside her.

      "Goodnight Daddy...and your silly willy," she giggled after a 
beat.  I had to admit, she was gonna be a little hottie when she 
grew up...and that both terrified and excited me.





      Chapter 2

      "Daddy?" came the sweet little voice from my doorway the next 
night.  "Can I sleep with you again?"  I looked up from my book and 
while my jaw muscles went slack, another part of me started to firm 
up.  Standing at the doorway was my sweet little Trish, wearing 
only a small t-shirt and panties.  Panties, that were at least two 
years too small for her, and though they did the job of covering 
what they needed to cover, they did it rather close.  The little 
mound I'd been privy to seeing at most twice a year, was all but on 
display if not for the white cotton stretched taut over it.  If I 
had looked up 'camel toe' in a dictionary, there would have been a 
picture of my daughter's crotch at that moment next to it.  This 
was in stark contrast to the rather baggy panties she had been 
wearing the night before that had given nothing about her anatomy 
away.

      "Uh...well, I guess," I responded, a little shocked myself by 
how readily I let her join me.  As Trish smiled and bounded onto my 
bed, I couldn't help noticing her little boobs pressing on the 
shirt she wore.  It looked almost a size too small as well.

      "I love sleeping with you, Daddy," she lilted before 
stretching her body out next to me.  It was like she...like she 
wanted me to look.  "Is your willy hard now, Daddy?" she asked 
point-blank.  It most certainly was, but the sheets were bunched up 
keeping her from seeing for herself.

      "Trish..." I started, but I was at a complete loss at how to 
go on.  How in the hell was a grown man supposed to tell a little 
girl...no, how was a father supposed to tell his pre-teen daughter 
that she was an ace at getting his cock up?

      "Look Daddy, this is new too!" she said, shaking me from my 
moment of deep thought on this predicament.  I refocused my 
attention on her, and was completely stunned by what she was 
(trying to) show me.  She was up on her knees and her panties had 
been pulled down far enough (which wasn't that far at all) to show 
the start of her slit.  She had a finger pointing at a spot on her 
pudgy little girl mons pubis.

      "T-Trisha!  What are you doing?!" I hoarsely demanded, my 
mouth having gone dry as another part of me made use of my bodily 
fluids.

      "I've got a hair on my fanny, Daddy!"  The first time she 
ever said fanny to me, I was incredibly confused.  I'd just had my 
first accidental look at her naked, and it was a fully frontal view 
without a hint of backside to it.  She had scolded me for seeing 
'her fanny,' and I had argued with her that I'd only seen her from 
the front.  It was an uncomfortable moment for the both of us as 
she explained the Australian meaning of the word 'fanny' in the 
limited child vocabulary available to her.

      "Sw-sweetheart, this is incredibly inappropriate..." I 
stuttered, both wanting to stare and yet not wanting to appear a 
lech.  It was during one of these looks away that I felt a hand 
grab at me, or rather, grab at it.  Even through the layers of my 
boxers, the sheet, and the comforter, my daughter's hand managed to 
get a decent enough grip that she giggled madly feeling it jump in 
reflex.

      "Your willy wiggled, Daddy!" she squeaked in delight.  I was 
beside myself with a different emotion, however.

      "Trisha Abigail McClaren Beaumont!" I shouted, using her full 
name and both my last name and her mother's as it appeared on her 
legal documents.  "You are being an extremely naughty little 
girl!"  So livid was I, that it took several moments before I 
realized she had drawn back and was shaking in fear.  I had never 
had any reason to raise my voice to such a level with her since she 
came to live with me, but she had absolutely crossed a line here 
and brought it out of me.

      "I-I-I'm sorry Daddy...I just wanted to see what it felt 
like..." she noticed that I had relaxed once I saw how afraid she 
was, and made her escape out of my room.  I could only sigh and 
feel horrible about how frightened she'd looked just then.  I 
probably should have gone to her room and had a talk with her, but 
even I was a little shaken by the moment, that I felt perhaps it 
would be best to leave it alone until tomorrow.





      Chapter 3

      Slipping into bed, I reflected on the day I'd just had.  
Trisha had slept in, perhaps on purpose, robbing me of the now 
routine kiss she'd give me before I leave for work.  Since it was 
the summer and she was out of school, I'd been leaving her home 
alone in the mornings, returning for lunch, and then leaving her 
for the afternoons.  I never had any qualms about doing so, as 
Trisha was a good responsible girl who knew better than opening the 
door to strangers or using the oven (despite her ability to cook 
better than me).  Today had just been...awkward for both of us, and 
it had robbed her of the usual bubbly personality that I discovered 
that I missed deeply.

      Rather than her being up with the birds as is usual, she was 
still asleep when I went in to say good-bye to her.  The rather 
sultry clothes she'd worn for her stunt the night before were 
laying on the floor, and I could see that she'd changed into an old 
t-shirt of mine before going to bed.  Though dry, I could see where 
the tears had streaked down her cheek before she was calmed by 
sleep.  I kissed her cheek and stepped out of her room, fighting 
tears of my own.

      She was awake when I arrived home for lunch, but I was still 
getting the cold shoulder from her.  She didn't so much as glance 
at me before stalking off to her room and closing the door.  Still 
I made her and I lunch, and left it outside her door.  I ate there 
in the hall as well, hoping for a chance to talk when she'd emerge 
for the food, but I was forced to suffer the hour silent and 
sullenly.  That feeling followed me back to work, and didn't go 
unnoticed by my colleagues, in particular, our young intern Daisy, 
whom I'd always secretly desired.  I may just have been imagining 
things, but I got the feeling that the way she lingered behind my 
back and over my shoulder, pressing her breasts against me, was her 
way of trying to cheer me up.

      Dinner fared a little better.  I brought home Trish's 
favorite take out, and found her sitting at an already set table.  
Normally we'd set it together and talk about the day, but it would 
seem she'd thought of everything to keep from speaking to me.  I 
spoke to her while we ate of course, but aside from a nod or a 
shake of her head, I was shut out.  I attempted to bring up the 
previous night, but she just got up and left me there at the 
table.  Sure this made me angry, and I very nearly went as far as 
to remove her door from its hinges.  But I also knew she couldn't 
stay mad and silent around me forever, so I turned to the punching 
bag in the garage to work out my frustrations.

      Later as I tried to relax on the couch with the TV, she came 
out to finish her food.  I kept my mouth shut, as I knew she was in 
a stubborn little snit, and there was no point in prodding her 
further.  Much to my surprise, after she'd finished and cleaned her 
plate, she joined me on the couch, and lay against my shoulder.  I 
suppose in a way, it was how she'd decided to forgive and apologize 
to me for the previous 24 hours.  It would appear she craved the 
same daily physical contact with me that I'd been sorely missing 
from her since the morning.

      She fell asleep there next to me, and so I carried her into 
her room.  Though still relatively small, the weight of her body in 
my arms reminded me that she wasn't getting any younger or more 
innocent to the world.  I considered briefly undressing her and 
putting her into her pajamas, but if she were to wake and get the 
wrong idea, considering it was her exposed body that put us into 
this mood in the first place, what little progress had been made 
today would be lost.  I did however take off her shorts before 
tucking her in, and I admit, I was tempted to have a feel or a 
peek, but molesting unconscious girls really isn't my thing.

      On the way out of her door, I spied the skimpy pair of 
panties still on the floor where she had left them the night 
before.  Feeling very much like a pervert, I snatched them up and 
had a sniff.  The smell on them was of pussy alright.  I looked 
back at my daughter, sleeping soundly, and took another whiff.  My 
cock got hard, and I got out of there before I did something that I 
would really feel bad about.

      That brought me back to now, settling down for my own 
slumber...well maybe not right away.  I still had Trisha's panties 
in my hand, and the feel of Daisy's perky teen tits pressed on my 
back seared into my memory.  Putting the tiny strip of cloth to my 
nose, and my hand around my shaft, I started pounding away at 
myself, all while imaging what Daisy looked like without that 
blouse on today.  Unfortunately my most recent frame of reference 
for what female breasts actually looked like, were those on 
Trisha's chest.  I wound up jerking myself to a mix of preteen 
precociousness and teenage temptations.  Using the only thing I had 
on hand to collect it, I spilled my load into my little girl's 
balled up knickers.

      As I basked there in my post-orgasm glow, a distant rumble of 
thunder sounded outside.  They'd mentioned the possibility of 
storms on the news tonight, and sure enough, there it was.  While 
there had only been about a 20% chance of thunderstorms, there was 
a 100% chance of what happened next: a half-naked preteen girl came 
running into my room and cowered next to me.  Storms were not 
Trisha's favorite thing.  When I said half-naked, I meant it too.  
From the waist down, she was entirely exposed, and the shirt she 
wore didn't do a thing to hide her cute little bald peach.

      "Well hello to you too, honey," I said, somewhat bemused, 
although a little uneasy since I too was naked from the waist down 
under the sheets, and had a semen loaded pair of little girl's 
underwear under there as well.

      "I'm sorry you can see my fanny, Daddy, but I woke up on my 
bed, and I was changing clothes, and the thunder boomed, and I just 
ran in here without thinking.  Please don't be cross.  Please, 
please, let me stay here with you," she pleaded before cringing at 
another rumble of distant thunder.  There wasn't even any lightning 
that I'd seen out the window, so I figured the storm must be pretty 
far away.  Regardless, the sound alone was Trisha's personal 
kryptonite.

      "It's okay, honey," I assured her.  "It's okay this time 
because you're not being bad about it.  You understand the 
difference, don't you?"

      "Yes Daddy, I do."  I noticed a flash out the window, as did 
Trish, who squealed.  I wanted to roll onto my side and pull her to 
me, but the soiled knickers and my bare dick gave me pause.  She 
was almost certain to burrow herself under the covers and cling to 
me, and then what kind of situation would we find ourselves in?  I 
found out almost 30 seconds later as the accompanying thunder 
boomed and she started to go under.  I moved quickly, managing to 
move the panties away from her and dropping them to the floor 
beside the bed, but there was little I could do about the feeling 
of her bare thighs trapping my own between them.  She had gotten 
atop me, straddling my leg, the undeniable feel of her bald sex 
lips pressed against me just above the knee.  I had been limp since 
just before she rushed into my room, but since my cock tended to 
hang in the direction she now occupied, the tip, which was still a 
little wet from my cum, rubbed along her hip.

      She got over her fear of the elements before she realized the 
position she had put us into.  My dick drippings startled her and 
made her sit upwards, putting her weight upon my leg, increasing 
the friction between her cunny and my leg tenfold.  She squirmed 
and gasped at this sensation between us, the stunned look on her 
deeply reddening face a priceless sight to behold.  Her upright 
position also had the side-effect of lifting the blanket off of me 
and exposing my now revived member.  I had to admit, the view I had 
of her, dressed in just the little t-shirt, bare from the hips 
down, riding my leg, was just as great, if not better.

      "Oh wow," she said, gazing upon me.  Up until this point I 
could understand all that had just occurred as pure chance and 
accidental contact between the two of us.  The way she then ground 
herself into my knee, twisting her hips, and whimpering, seemed a 
little more intentional.

      "T-Trisha..." I sputtered.  The sound of my voice seemed to 
shake her out of whatever trance these new feelings had put her in, 
and her eyes locked with mine.  She looked from my face, to my 
cock, to my leg that was her unwitting sex partner, and squealed.

      "Don't look Daddy, don't look!" she begged, grabbing at her 
t-shirt and trying to pull it to cover her vulva.  The shirt, which 
naturally showed her midriff, couldn't be pulled far enough down to 
hide anything, but her actions backfired a little and pulled it 
taut over her little tits, making them stand out on what would 
otherwise appear to be a flat boyish chest.  She was shifting from 
side to side throughout this panic to regain her modesty, and that 
only served to stimulate her more, causing her to wince and gasp.  
As cock-throbbingly fun as I found this, I also was concerned for 
her well-being, and didn't want her to make a spectacle of herself.

      "Sweetheart, it's okay," I said, putting my hand over my 
eyes.  I felt her scramble off my leg, the small wet spot left by 
her little cunt catching the air and cooling my skin.

      "I'm sorry Daddy, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to rub my fanny 
on you, honest.  Don't be mad at me Daddy.  I don't ever want you 
to be mad at me again," she pleaded with me.  I uncovered my eyes 
and looked at her.  She was sitting upright with the sheets bunched 
up around her waist.  Her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing 
a little heavily.  She was also squirming from side to side as she 
stared at me, or more specifically she was staring at my still 
uncovered lower half.

      Despite my parental instincts screaming at me to pull the 
sheets up and cover my nakedness from her eyes, I couldn't help 
feeling that something had changed between me and my little girl.  
She wasn't the same pony and doll loving little moppet I'd met at 
an orphanage in Australia.  Her body was still childish and 
immature, but I had seen that changing over the past few nights.  
Her mind was growing up and changing as well.  It was doing so in 
concert with her body, and was likely fueled by the same surging 
hormones that were turning her physically from girl to woman.

      "I suppose we're equals now," I said to her, making a gesture 
at my penis, highlighting our similar states of exposure to one 
another.  "You've been awfully curious about this, haven't you?"  
She nodded slowly in agreement with me, and then with a start she 
looked to my face and quickly covered her eyes, as though she had 
forgotten her father was attached to the organ she had focused on.

      "Sorry, Daddy, sorry!  I shouldn't look!  I'm being very 
wicked right now, I'm sorry!"  I had to admit, I was proud of how 
respectful she was being for me and my privacy.  It had probably 
been enhanced by my outburst 24 hours earlier and now she was 
perhaps overreacting a little bit.  However, I felt as though I was 
now just teasing her by leaving my dick out in the open like this, 
and was having a little joke at her expense.  I pulled the sheet 
up, covering myself, and I could tell she had been peeking through 
her hands anyways, as she took them away from her eyes once there 
was nothing more for her to see.

      "Now, don't you think it's time for you to go back to your 
own bed, honey?" I asked her.

      "Yes, Daddy," she said, perhaps a little glum, but with a 
confused look on her face.  No doubt she was wondering why I hadn't 
yelled at her for everything that had just transpired.  She 
swiveled her body around to get off the bed and rose up from the 
bundled sheets, flashing me a look at her cute little ass.  She 
hurried out of the room, glancing back at me as she entered the 
hall, a shy grin on her face.  Perhaps she had sensed the same 
change between us that I had as well, because there was something 
in her eyes that showed that she felt she had just gotten away with 
murder.

      It did occur to me though as I drifted off to sleep, that 
something she had said didn't make sense.  When I had taken her 
shorts off and tucked her into bed, she was wearing underwear, and 
to the best of my knowledge, she regularly did so when she slept.  
Why then had she taken them off in order to change into her usual 
nightshirt, like she had claimed she was doing when the thunder 
sounded?  Something wasn't adding up.





      Chapter 4

      The next day went on as though the prior 24 hours had never 
happened.  I got my usual hugs, kisses, and chatter from my little 
Australian princess.  I went to work more adjusted and happy than 
the day before, so much so that a few of my male co-workers wanted 
to know who the lucky woman in my life was now.  If only they knew 
the truth!  Even my desired delicious Daisy took note of this, 
though she didn't express it in quite the same crude manner as the 
men had.

      Trish was acting a little odd when I got home for lunch, 
though.  She was fidgety and seemed to shy away from making eye 
contact with me, rather like during our encounter in bed the night 
before.  I couldn't help wondering if she'd been touching herself 
thinking about it.  The thought certainly got me hard, but my 
maturity and experience helped me to keep from letting on.  As 
before, I didn't want to embarrass her.  I noticed also that after 
I kissed her goodbye after lunch, she made a beeline for her room, 
rather than sitting out and watching TV as was her routine.  There 
was definitely something she didn't want to do where I might see her.

      She was still nervous when I got home after work.  In fact, 
she was downright on edge about something.  I didn't really know 
what until I went to my bedroom to change out of my office 
clothes.  My bed was completely bare.  Every sheet, blanket, and 
pillowcase was gone.  I turned to go back out and question Trish 
about it, but she was right there behind me, looking quite guilty.

      "I got your bed messy, Daddy, I'm sorry," she said.

      "How?  What happened?"

      "I spilled a glass of water on it."  I supposed that was 
plausible, but that didn't explain why it happened on my bed and 
not in the kitchen or living room.  I noticed I had been hearing 
the washer and drier since I got home, but that wasn't unusual 
since Trish usually did laundry in the middle of the week, and it 
was Thursday, though my sheets weren't normally something she'd wash.

      "Why were you in my room with water?"  This question made her 
freeze, and she stammered about, unable to find any words.  This 
obviously wasn't a detail she'd considered in her explanation.  I 
decided to extend her a little more leniency since my mood had been 
so good today, but anything further would earn an interrogation.  
"Oh well, these things happen.  Thank you for washing them, 
honey."  She seemed to be relieved and went pale at almost the same 
time.  She was smart enough to know I knew something was going on, 
but was letting her off the hook.

      "Y-yes, Daddy, I guess they do.  Dinner's almost ready," she 
said, excusing herself and making an escape.  I changed my clothes, 
and on my way back down the hall to the kitchen, I noticed the 
sheets were also missing from her bed.  'Another spilled glass of 
water,' I mused to myself, recalling the wet sensation she had left 
on my leg.  Standing there in her doorway, I glanced down at the 
hamper by her door.  There were not one, but two pairs of panties 
in an otherwise empty hamper.  I glanced quickly down the hall to 
see if Trish was looking, and then fished out the discarded 
underwear.  Just as I'd expected, they were damp in the crotch, and 
probably not from spilled water.

      "Daddy, dinner's ready," she called to me, and I dropped the 
panties back into the hamper, and started down the hall again.  I 
gave her a smile as I came into view, perhaps too big of one, 
because she did stare oddly at me.  It might be harder to keep 
these things to myself than I had thought.  She brought over the 
dish to the table, meatloaf, and set it on a trivet.  She was 
skilled in three dishes: meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, and 
pancakes, so it was always one of those on her night to make 
dinner.  I couldn't help thinking she'd be a great wife some day.

      "It smells, great, sweetheart," I said, sitting down.

      "Thanks Daddy," she responded with a blush, and took off her 
apron before sitting across from me at our small table.  I noticed 
she was wearing a skirt as well...hadn't she been wearing shorts at 
lunch time?

      "So, aside from spilling water all over the place, what else 
did you do today, honey?" I asked her, making sure not to ask when 
her mouth was full.

      "Just the wash, Daddy," she said, still sounding a little 
ashamed.  We chewed in silence together for a moment.  I had 
noticed that since school had let out, she was much less talkative 
about her day during dinner, likely because there was nothing 
particularly interesting about being home alone for hours on end.  
Unfortunately for her, there was something I wanted to discuss.

      "Trisha, sweetheart, about last night," I started, seeing her 
visibly tense up.  "I'm not upset with you or anything, but I think 
it's important that we have a talk about some of what you saw and 
may have felt."  She kept her eyes on her plate, and just nodded.  
"I realize it's kind of an embarrassing thing and will probably 
make both of us very uncomfortable, but this is a discussion I'd 
prefer we have now, instead of at a bad time in the future."  She 
just nodded again, not even poking at her dinner.  I opened my 
mouth, intending to broach the subject of my erect penis, but she 
was saved by my ringing cell phone from the other room.

      "Excuse me, sweetheart," I said, getting up from the tension 
thick table.  The number on my phone was from work.  "Hello?"

      "Oh, Mr. Beaumont!" came the sweet voice through the 
speaker.  It was Daisy.  "There's something really wrong with the 
server.  It's like it didn't save anything since about two this 
afternoon.  They caught me just before I left, and asked me to call 
everybody back in."  The initial joy I'd felt upon hearing her 
voice was dashed away.

      "You're kidding me...gah, okay," I sighed.  I looked over at 
Trisha, who had been looking at me.  She saw my eyes on her, and 
she looked down at her food again.  "Well, I'm just in the middle 
of dinner here, and I'd really rather not leave Trisha home alone 
at night."

      "I could watch her for you," Daisy offered on the other end.  
"I don't really do any of that stuff you and the others do with the 
server stuff, so I could come over and spend the evening with her 
until you get home."  I swore I heard a bell ring in my head when 
she said this.

      "Uh, sure, if you really want to.  I don't want to keep you 
if you had other plans or anything tonight," I replied.

      "Oh no, it's no problem at all.  I'll get your address from 
H.R., and leave right after I finish calling everybody," she said.  
I was absolutely impressed with how mature she sounded, and 
couldn't believe she was still a teenager.

      "Okay, well, great.  It's not a long drive, only about 15 
minutes.  I think Trisha would really like somebody else to talk to 
around here, anyways."

      "Alright, see ya soon, Mr. Beaumont!" she chirped and hung 
up.  I turned back to Trisha who was looking up at me from the table.

      "Who was that, Daddy?"

      "That was work, sweetheart.  I need to go back for a few 
hours.  A girl who interns for us is going to come over and stay 
with you until I get back."  There was a noticable look of relief 
on her face when I said I would be leaving.  I sat down at the 
table to finish eating, and dampened her spirits some.  "But don't 
think I'm going to forget about our little talk, Trisha.  We'll 
just have to postpone that until tomorrow night."

      "Okay," she said, a bit glum, but eating again for the first 
time since I'd mentioned the other night.  I hurried through my 
food, and then got up to go change my clothes.  I didn't have to 
wait long after that before Daisy showed up.  She was still dressed 
in her white blouse and navy mini skirt that she'd worn to work.  
There was just this adult air about her that could have easily led 
somebody to believe she was several years older, despite her 
smaller stature and youthful face.  I supposed though that anybody 
would have to grow up a little faster after losing their parents 
while still in high school.

      "Hi, Mr. Beaumont!"

      "Come on in, Daisy," I said, taking her hand.  I turned 
towards the kitchen and saw Trisha standing there watching us.  
"Honey, this is Daisy...uh..."

      "Barton.  Daisy Barton," the teen supplied, looking a little 
embarrassed.

      "Right, and this is my Trisha, Daisy."

      "Hello, Trisha.  How do you do?" Daisy asked, without talking 
to Trisha like so many adults usually did to children.  Rather, the 
tone she used was one that would use with a peer.

      "Very well, thank you," Trisha said, her accent prompting 
raised eyebrows from Daisy.

      "Honey, go on and finish tidying up the kitchen," I dismissed 
Trisha from the introductions, and turned then to Daisy.

      "Her voice is adorable!  I knew she was from Australia, but I 
guess I just didn't expect it to be so cute!" Daisy said quietly to 
me, nearly gushing.

      "Um, Daisy, I know this might sound like a strange request, 
but over the last few days Trisha has...well...been going through 
some growing pains, and they're not really the type that a daughter 
should have to talk to her father about.  I realize this isn't what 
you had in mind when you offered to watch her for me, but if she 
starts asking questions of that type, don't feel like you'd be 
stepping on any toes by answering them for her," I said, hoping I 
wasn't weirding Daisy out of her babysitting gig with such a 
strange and potentially inappropriate suggestion.

      "Uh, gosh, okay.  I guess I could.  I have a little sister 
about Trisha's age, so I kinda had to talk to her too about it 
after our mom died earlier this year.  Do you really think she'll 
ask me, though?"

      "Honestly, I don't know, but I wanted you to be aware of it.  
She's not really had any womanly influence since she came to live 
with me, and it's kind of been a ...thing here lately, and she just 
might take the opportunity of having a young woman like you being 
here to gain some insight and guidance from."

      "I'll do what I can, Mr. Beaumont."

      "Thank you, Daisy.  I think it would save both her and I a 
lot of embarrassment.  It's been a tough few days around here."

      "Oh, is that why you were so down yesterday?" Daisy asked me 
sympathetically.  I knew she'd noticed.

      "Kind of, yeah.  Well, I suppose I should get going now that 
you're here.  Thank you so much for offering to stay with her 
tonight."

      "Oh, it's my pleasure, Mr. Beaumont.  If it helps you and the 
company, I'm just doing my job, I guess."  She was so modest, that 
I felt like kissing her just to impress my gratitude upon 
her...well, I felt like kissing her for other reasons as well, but 
this wasn't the time or the place for that.

      "Trisha, honey, I'm gonna go now," I called out towards the 
kitchen.  Trisha came around the corner back into view and nodded 
at me.

      "Okay, Daddy."

      "Her bedtime is at 10," I said, turning back to Daisy.  
"She's an angel, so I doubt she'll be difficult at all for you.  
Just call me at the office if you need anything, and help yourself 
to any food in the fridge if you get hungry.  Hopefully I can get 
this all done and be back in two hours tops."

      "Don't worry about a thing, Mr. Beaumont.  I think we'll have 
a lot of fun tonight," Daisy said confidently, giving Trisha a 
wink.  Unaware of my conversation with Daisy, Trisha just looked a 
bit confused at the comment.

      "Alright then, bye, girls!" I said and walked out the door.





      Chapter 5

      When I got to the office, I found that the data loss was a 
little more severe than Daisy had let on.  Rather than about two 
hours of work, the amount was closer to four.  Luckily though, the 
majority of information that needed reentry was preserved on paper 
or in e-mails, which managed to escape whatever system error had 
occurred.

      I ended up getting home about a quarter after 11.  The TV was 
off and Trisha and Daisy were nowhere to be seen in the main part 
of the house.  I headed down the hall and peeked into Trisha's 
room.  The light was off and her bed was made, but there was no 
little girl laying in it.  I had one more place to check before I 
started to panic, and that was exactly where I found them.  They 
were both sleeping peacefully on my freshly dressed bed.

      Trisha was already changed into her sleep clothes, while 
Daisy was wearing one of my t-shirts and sweatpants.  I couldn't 
help noticing her skirt, blouse, bra, and pantyhose in a little 
pile on the floor.  Her hair was no longer done up in a tightly 
worn bun like she had earlier at work and when she arrived, but was 
splayed out over my pillow.  A hint of shampoo lingered in the air, 
and I remembered that tonight was Trisha's usual bath night.  Given 
the scene before me, I wondered if Daisy had joined her.  I was 
already stiff from the thought of her panties making contact within 
those borrowed clothes of mine, but the thought of her naked body 
in the tub with my daughter's nubile form got me throbbing.

      I wanted so badly to take a picture of these two angels laid 
out on my bed, but I figured the flash would wake at least one of 
them, and then I'd really have some explaining to do.  After taking 
a moment to capture this scene upon my mind for later study, I went 
to Daisy's side and gently shook her shoulder.

      "Nnnn, not now, Jace, I'm tired," she muttered half asleep.  
It did give me pause to wonder who Jace was, and why she might 
think he was waking her.

      "Daisy, wake up.  I'm home now," I said gently while shaking 
her still more.  Her eyes popped open and she sat up in shock 
looking at me.

      "Wha--?" she questioned, before looking around and 
remembering where she was.  I put my finger to my lips, pointed at 
Trisha's still sleeping body, and then pointed to the hall.  Daisy 
nodded in understanding of my directions and together we left the 
bedroom for the living room.

      "Hope I didn't interrupt any good dreams," I joked with her 
as we sat down together on the couch.  She turned a light shade of 
pink, looking more now like her teenage girl self than the young 
college student image she usually had.

      "Oh, no, nothing.  Sorry, we just kinda fell asleep talking 
is all.  I hope you don't mind about the clothes.  Trisha offered 
them after our bath."  I throbbed so happily after hearing that.

      "'Our' bath?" I questioned the plural possessive with a 
smirk.  A very shy grin became plastered on Daisy's face.

      "Yeah, well...I hope that was okay?  It really helped her 
open up to me.  She, uh...she asked some pretty surprising things.  
Stuff I didn't even know about when I was her age.  I kinda feel 
like I need to ask, but, um...she wasn't abused when she was 
little, was she?"  I could see a look of genuine concern on Daisy's 
face, and maybe even a little suspicion.  I couldn't blame her.  If 
a pubescent girl living with her single father asked me things like 
she was implying were asked, I'd suspect something too.  I figured 
the only way to satisfy her fears would be to explain about the 
past week...minus the part where I jerked it into Trisha's panties 
of course.

      "I'm not aware of any abuse before she came to live with me, 
but the last few days, like I told you earlier, have been kind of a 
rollercoaster."  I told her of Trisha's innocent exhibitions, how 
upset I had become with her because of it, wisely changed the 
encounter in my bed to her catching a look at me getting out of the 
shower, and my stated intent to have 'the talk' with her this 
evening.  Daisy nodded, giggled, and blushed her way through my 
story, and looked much more at ease with what she had heard from my 
daughter's mouth.

      "Oh wow!  It sounds like you two have had quite an 
interesting couple of days.  I mean, when you told me she might ask 
about things, I thought you meant about periods, or she was worried 
that she'd never grow big boobs.  It kinda makes sense now how all 
she wanted to talk about was, uh...it."  The way Daisy said that 
last word made it unmistakable what exactly she was talking about.  
Trisha was curious about sex, most probably sex with me, or at 
least with a penis like mine.  Speaking of which, I was plenty hard 
at the moment.

      "Yeah, sorry.  I guess I should have prepared you for it a 
little more.  I uh, didn't really know how to say it to you 
though.  It's not really polite conversation matter between 
co-workers, particularly you and I," I explained.  Daisy grinned 
again at my discomfort due to our age difference and how I was old 
enough to be her father...that is if I hadn't been so awkward 
around girls in high school.  Maybe it was my imagination, but 
Daisy seemed to be moving closer to me.

      "I don't mind, Mr. Beaumont, really.  I've had guys older 
than you talk dirty to me before," she said with a sly grin.  I 
wasn't quite sure what past experiences she was implying with that, 
but I had a feeling it meant good news for me.  "Of course, none of 
them were as kind or as respectful as you are with me."  I never 
had any illusions that Daisy was a pure little snowflake; most 
girls her age aren't...hell, they certainly weren't when I was in 
high school.  I was surprised though by the look in her eyes and 
the hand she was sneaking onto my leg.

      "Yeah, well, I guess I just think of you more as a person and 
a diligent co-worker, than a place to stick it."  I mentally kicked 
myself a few times because I could have said that so much better if 
my brain hadn't been turning over control to my cock.  Daisy looked 
like she rather liked it though.

      "So you think about that then?  Sticking it in me?"  I could 
tell she was just ready to pounce and ride me there on the couch, 
and the hand that she now had rubbing on my tented pants was a 
tremendous clue to that end.  "Well, aren't you big?  I'm jealous 
of your daughter now...she's already seen it."  I hadn't been 
thinking about Trisha since the conversation steered away from 
her.  She was still asleep in the bedroom, and could wake up 
anytime now and catch us.

      "Daisy...maybe we shouldn't...Trisha might wake up..."  
Another mischievous grin showed me all of Daisy's perfect teeth.

      "She won't.  Not after the fun we had earlier."  My eyes 
widened and my cock throbbed.  "Oooh, did you like the thought of 
that?"  Daisy asked me.  "She started playing with herself while I 
told her how good a dick felt inside me.  She makes the cutest 
little squeak when she cums that I just had to keep her going.  
It's a good thing we were still in the bathroom too, because I 
don't think I've ever felt a girl get that wet before...you might 
say it was like a glass of spilled water," she said with a wink.  
It seemed Trisha had let her in on the events of the day.

      "Now, are you going to let me pull this thing out, or are you 
going to have to jerk off in your daughter's panties again?"  My 
jaw hung in shock, how did she know about that?  Trisha didn't even 
know about that incestuous transgression from last night!

      "Wha--...how did you...?"

      "They were on the floor beside your bed.  Not the best way to 
keep that shameful little secret."  Oh crap, she was right.  I'd 
dropped them and forgot them after Trisha rode my leg.  Daisy 
hadn't forgotten that she was ready to fuck me, and didn't bother 
asking this time.  She unzipped and fished out my dribbling 
sensitive cock like a pro.  "Wow, it's so thick," she marveled as 
she smeared precum over the head with her thumb.  "I can see why 
Trisha worried about it fitting inside.  She's got the cutest 
little pussy hole inside those smooth lips.  This thing would mess 
her up!"  I couldn't stop my cock from pulsing as she described my 
little girl's privates.  Daisy didn't miss it, and knew she had a 
not just a way to thrill and tease me, but also a secret she knew I 
wanted kept.

      "Oh god, you're such a perv," she chided me with glee.  
"Getting hard and close to cumming just listening to me talk about 
your little girl's pink little cunny.  I hope this doesn't mean I'm 
too old for you...I'd be a shame if my nice wet ready pussy didn't 
get fucked."  She was really laying it on thick now, complete with 
a cute (but forced) pout.  She sucked my precum from her finger, 
and stood up in front of me.  The crotch of my borrowed sweat pants 
had a dark stain.  Daisy put her hands behind her back, and pushed 
her chest forward, straining those perky little teen boobs against 
my borrowed t-shirt, the nipple topped peak of each of them 
sticking out.  There was only one thing she could possibly want me 
to do now, and I certainly wasn't going to let her down.

      I put my hands on her hips and slid them up under the shirt, 
feeling the bare warm skin of her stomach and sides.  My next stop 
normally would have been up higher to her breasts, but it was late, 
she probably had to get home soon, and she had made it pretty clear 
that what she wanted was a fuck.  Her tits could wait until some 
other time, and wait they did.  I moved my hands back down, and 
hooked my fingers into the stretchy waistband.  I pulled them down, 
revealing first those tantalizing body lines that low cut jeans 
would show off.  Those same lines drew into a rounded little pad of 
fat which looked as smooth as the one on the 5th grade girl asleep 
down the hall.  This lovely mesa of girl flesh then split in two, 
between which sat the folded flap of skin that hid her sensitive 
little clit.

      Despite the fact that I was in full on primal urges mode, my 
brain was still functioning enough to realize that I hadn't peeled 
any panties off of Daisy; she had just been bare pussed under my 
now favorite pair of sweatpants.  There hadn't been any panties in 
that pile of clothes she'd left by my bed either, and since she'd 
come here straight from the office, that could only mean that she'd 
been commando all day at work under that mini-skirt.  I apparently 
was thinking about this a little too long, because Daisy felt the 
need to ask.

      "What's wrong, Mr. Beaumont?  Is my pussy too old for you to 
fuck?"  I looked up from her moist slit, noting that she did indeed 
look a little worried now, and not just for show.  Her and I were 
never going to be the same again and she was probably wondering if 
this had all been a big mistake on her part.  What I said next not 
only reassured her that I wanted this as well, but it also removed 
the last little part of the formal nature that we'd had since she 
started her internship months earlier.

      "Call me Alan."  The look of worry melted off her face and 
she stepped out of the sweatpants that lay around her sockless 
feet.  She stood her legs apart, making those juvenile looking 
outer lips open to show me the pink wet insides.  I didn't get to 
look very long as she then straddled me where I sat on the couch, 
grabbed my cock, and directed it straight into the first pussy I'd 
fucked in nearly two years.

      We moaned in unison as our bodies pressed together.  She was 
really pushing down on me, wiggling her hips from side to side, her 
heavenly pocket sucking in as much cock as I had to give her.  
Then, like a human milking machine, she fiercely and franticly 
bounced her body on my cock, gasping and squealing every time she 
pushed down and filled herself.  I obliged her eagerness by 
thrusting my hips upwards as she came down.

      "Fuck me, fuck me, Alan," she moaned, stopping her bouncing.  
She pulled off of me, and lay down on the floor, spreading her legs 
open in invitation.  I started forward to get on top of her and 
bury my sticky throbbing member back in that quarter sized hole of 
hers.  I stopped though, looking at her on the floor, thinking how 
uncomfortable that must be, not to mention rather dirty.  There was 
a better place in the house to do this, one with fresh clean 
sheets.  I took her by surprise and picked her up in my arms.  She 
didn't say anything, but the look of shock on her face was 
unmistakable as I headed into the hallway towards my bedroom.  She 
looked even more surprised when I stopped short of my bedroom, and 
instead carried her into Trisha's room and put her down on the bed.

      "You...you want to fuck me here...Daddy?" she played, acting 
like she was my little girl.

      "Yes, Daisy, honey, but we have to be quiet and not wake up 
your little sister," I replied, referring to Trisha in the other 
room nearby.

      "Oh, okay, Daddy.  Come on and fuck me.  I want some cum in 
me!" she said, acting like a horny girl a few years younger 
probably would in similar circumstances.  She laid back on my 
daughter's bed and spread her legs for me once again.  I didn't 
stop this time and got on top of her, returning my cock to its 
natural environment.  She squeaked and squealed as I slid inside, 
something she hadn't done before, and I could only assume she was 
imitating what she'd heard from Trisha earlier.  Her legs wrapped 
around me, and I started to fuck her with vigor.

      "Is it good, honey?  Does Daddy's cock feel good inside you?" 
I asked her, feeling a little silly, but she seemed to be getting 
off on the roleplaying as well.

      "Yes Daddy, yes!  Fuck me, fuck and cum in my pussy!"  I 
needed no encouragement, as I'd been primed to shoot since seeing 
her in my clothes earlier.  Five seconds and two thrusts later, I 
was flooding Daisy's teen cunt with my sperm.  She kept squeaking 
and moaning under me, so much that I had to wonder if she was 
faking it just to complete the fantasy of her being Trisha for me.  
That's when I felt her pussy start to shudder around me, and the 
cute noises she had been making were replaced with more adult like 
gasps, whimpers, and moans.

      I kept up my thrusting as much as I could after soaking her 
insides, but the sensitivity of my cockhead and the natural 
softening of my worn out organ forced me out of her creamy fucked 
cunt.  Once we came apart, she released me from her leg hold and I 
was able to pull back and look at this fantasy of mine come to 
life.  She reached down to her sloppy drooling childishly bald 
pussy and scooped some of our mixed cum out and dribbled it up her 
body before pouring the majority of it into her mouth.  She looked 
at me and smiled.

      "We taste yummy together, Daddy," she said, and then did it 
again.  I watched with erotic rapture as she cleaned herself in 
this fashion.  Once she was confident that she wasn't going to 
create a puddle on the carpet, she stood up from the bed and kissed 
me.  "Thank you for the evening, Mr. Beau--Alan.  I wish I could 
stay and share Trisha with you, but need to be getting home."  I 
opened my mouth to ask her what she meant by 'sharing Trisha,' but 
when she walked from the room, I understood what she meant.

      "Daddy..." moaned my little girl, leaning against the door 
frame for support, her panties around her ankles as she rubbed at 
her little slit and shuddered, cumming.





      Chapter 6

      Daisy had already disappeared into the night by the time I'd 
gotten Trisha's thighs and pussy all dried off.  She had frigged 
herself into a slumber there in the doorway as I was forced to 
awkwardly pick up her half-nude body while naked myself and still 
with sex juices all about my midsection.  I had little choice but 
to take her back to my room and lay her on my bed, since Daisy and 
I had made quite the mess on Trisha's sheets.

      My hands trembled as I toweled off the vaginal secretions 
from my daughter's vulva and thighs.  It really was astonishing how 
wet she was.  Was Trisha just unique, or did all girls her age 
self-lubricate this much?  I don't know if I can describe the mix 
of emotions I felt as I cared for her.  There was my sense as a 
father that it would not do her good to sleep with damp skin in 
some of her more sensitive places.  That compounded with my 
feelings as a man that were erotically charged with the sight 
before me and the nature of my work.  After that came a sort of 
melancholy feeling as I realized that this was how I might have 
dried her off after a bath had I been in her life at all years ago.

      I went back to her room to fetch a dry pair of panties for 
her, which by my count was the fourth pair she'd worn today.  The 
room smelled like sin, an odor of sex that was amplified by the 
toys, dolls, and pictures of horses on the walls.  A little girl's 
room wasn't supposed to smell like this while looking like that.  I 
took a look at the dark wet spot there on her little bed and I 
couldn't help getting hard thinking about how the same bed I had 
just fucked Daisy on was the same one in which my little Trisha had 
experienced her first orgasm, possibly within the last week.

      I was about to reflexively jerk off into the clean pair of 
panties I held in my hand, but the slight chill about my own naked 
genitalia reminded me that they were needed elsewhere.  I returned 
to my room and slipped them on over her legs, and drew them up to 
just below her well exercised slit.  As I'm sure you've noticed in 
my relating this tale to you, I've (almost) always treated my 
daughter's right to privacy and modesty with respect, and I was 
intent on doing so while dressing her then, but something about her 
caught my eye.

      Only two nights earlier she had come into this room, knelt on 
this bed, and exposed this perfectly smooth little pussy to me.  
Perfectly smooth.  Hadn't she said something about a hair?  I 
pulled the panties down a little more so I could have a clearer 
view, and I scrutinized every immature hair follicle on Trisha's 
textbook childish mons.  There was no hair there.  Not so much as a 
dusting of down.  The little scamp had lied to me just so she could 
tease me with her sexy little slit and get me hard!  I thought 
briefly about returning the favor of her grabbing my genitals, and 
while I was certainly lusting for her, and this was a great 
opportunity, there was just something wrong about the moment.

      With some regret, but a renewed sense of chivalry, I tugged 
her panties up between her legs and tucked her into my bed.  If 
there was to be a time to familiarize myself with my daughter's 
intimate anatomy, it would be when she was awake and involved in 
the moment.  I left her there and went to the bathroom where I 
stepped into the shower.  As I waited for the water to warm up, I 
looked at the bathtub that doubled as the shower's basin.  Trisha 
and Daisy had been in there together only hours earlier.  I started 
to wonder how that came about.  Had Daisy suggested it?  She didn't 
seem the type to take advantage of a young girl, so would that mean 
Trisha wanted to have a look at a matured female body and invited 
Daisy into the bath...only again, such a scenario seemed out of 
character.

      Getting in, I couldn't shake that moment from my mind.  Who 
touched who first?  How were they seated?  Was either of them shy?  
Nervous?  Did Daisy use just her hands, or did she eat my daughter 
out?  As you might expect, all these questions made my imagination 
run wild and my dick hard.  Enough time had passed since fucking 
Daisy that I felt I could cum again, so I did.  The fresh memory of 
being ball-deep in Daisy plus the visuals of Trisha getting herself 
off made short work of my freshly made sperm.  It splattered and 
dribbled into the same tub that saw moments of youthful lust and 
sex play earlier in the night.

      With my final sex act of the night circling the drain, I 
washed off the remnants of my coupling with Daisy as well as the 
accumulated sweat from the day's work.  I dried off and dressed for 
bed.  I made a slight detour to Trisha's room first though to pull 
the sex soggy sheets off the bed and put them in the wash.  There 
was no sense in leaving them there to set in the illicit stains.  
Finally I collapsed into bed next to my sleeping daughter, and no 
sooner had I kissed the back of her neck good night, had I myself 
fallen asleep.  The last two hours of my day had been exhausting 
ones.

      ***

      "Daddy~...Daddy~..." sang the sweet little accented voice 
that I knew so well.  I opened my eyes to a sunlit room and 
Trisha's pretty little face very close to my own.  "Good morning, 
Daddy," she giggled and kissed me on the nose.  Still a bit groggy 
from my deep slumber, the previous night's events didn't register 
immediately in my brain, prompting me to ask...

      "What are you doing in bed with me, honey?"  Although it was 
common for Trisha to be awake before me, she never tasked herself 
with waking me herself.

      "I guess I slept here last night, Daddy," she answered.  She 
seemed very cheerful about that, and as I sat up in the bed and 
looked at her, smiling up at me, her hair messy on the pillow about 
her head, it all came back to me.  A heavy awkward feeling overtook 
me as did an excited thrill that got me hard right then and there.  
Trisha didn't seem at all phased by any of it and just pushed back 
the covers and popped out of bed and into the hall.  I sat there 
for a moment wondering if she was going to come back in here and 
give me a more intimate wake-up call, but that wasn't the case as I 
heard the shower start up.

      I considered joining her in there, but given her complete 
lack of sexual interest this morning, I decided against it.  Plus 
the bathroom door was locked...not that I was trying to sneak a 
peek at her or anything, merely curious as to if she had locked it, 
mind you.  While she washed, I put her sheets into the dryer and 
made her bed with the other set of bedclothes I'd kept in case of 
nocturnal accidents.  I'd just finished with that task when the 
shower shut off and she bounded into her room, towel wrapped around 
her wet body.

      "Daddy!" she squealed as soon as she saw me, and held the 
towel tighter to her chest and thighs.  "What are you doing in 
here?" she asked, while noticeably switching her gaze from my face 
to my boxers.  As you might have guessed, seeing a towel clad 
Trisha got a reaction from me.

      "I was just making your bed, honey," I said, ready to address 
her catching Daisy and I.  Strangely though, she had another 
response.

      "Oh, I guess Daisy didn't do that after I fell asleep last 
night," she replied to my surprise.

      "Huh?" was about all the response I could muster, expecting 
her instead to blush and fidget at the memory of seeing me fucking 
her babysitter.

      "I was going to do it, Daddy, honest, but I was so sleepy and 
Daisy told me not to worry about it, that she'd do it for me, so I 
fell asleep on your bed instead."  Yet another part of last night's 
activities was filled in for me by that statement, as Trisha's bed 
had indeed been made by the time I got home...but what about the 
more memorable part of the night?  Surely she remembered that, 
didn't she?

      "I see...so you went to bed pretty early then?"

      "Yes, Daddy, right after my bath," she answered, looking a 
little uneasy about telling me details about her evening with 
Daisy.  "Daddy, can I get dressed now?"

      "Sure, sweetheart," I said, and left the bed unmade.  Walking 
past her, I could feel her eyes heavy on my male region.  It only 
now struck me as odd that she'd just taken a shower when only the 
night before she'd had a bath.  I stopped at her doorway and looked 
back at her.  She looked up to my eyes, and tried to withhold the 
sly smile that curved her mouth.

      "Silly, Daddy.  No peeking!" she exclaimed and gave my butt 
the shove it needed to get out of her room.  As soon as her door 
closed I wished she was as immodest as she had been just a few days 
ago.  That was when I heard my alarm clock go off at its usual 
time.  I had to be at work in an hour.





      Chapter 7

      As you might expect, my reunion at work with Daisy the day 
after was an awkward one...though only for me, oddly.  While I 
tried not to be too obvious in my newly assumed role as her mate, 
she acted as though nothing had changed at all between us.  With 
her unchanged attitude, and Trisha's lack of comment or really any 
kind of memory about the end of last night, I was starting to 
wonder if I had made it all up in my head.  Thankfully a folded 
note tossed onto my desk as Daisy passed by assured me that I was 
not going crazy.  Feeling like a teenage boy in high school again, 
I unfolded the note whilst glancing around to see if anybody was 
watching me.  There were two words written in that lovely teenage 
girl handwriting:

      Lunch.

      Stockroom.

      All three 'o's in 'stockroom' were drawn as little hearts.  
Were I not a nearly 40-year old man, I would have swooned right 
then and there like a lovestruck boy.  Instead I just got an 
erection that would not subside the rest of the morning.

      Thankfully, this promise of a noon-time quickie in the back 
of the office kept me distracted enough that I was able to 
convincingly back out of heading out to lunch with my co-workers.  
By 12:05 there were only six people left in the building, two of 
which manned the phones for the entire hour, two others with a 
mountain of work, and the last two a chance to vanish into the 
stockroom together for a few moments.

      Indeed, moments were all we needed, as no sooner had I gotten 
inside were my pants down and my thick pole surrounded by Daisy's 
wondrous cunt.

      "Oh god...fuck me, Alan," she moaned as I pushed into her 
from behind.  As she had dressed yesterday, and for that matter 
nearly every day at work, she was wearing a knee-length skirt, 
which was now hitched up onto her back as she bent over the small 
table.  "I dreamed about you, Alan...you and Trisha...I wanted to 
see how you used her after I left last night..."  Of course, I 
hadn't, but Daisy didn't know that yet.  "Did you shoot your daddy 
cum up in her wet slit?  I want to slurp it out of her so badly..."

      If Daisy was trying to get me off, it was working, as with a 
groan I buried my length inside of her and expelled my seed into 
her for the second time in 12 hours.  She bucked her ass into me a 
few times, as she looked over her shoulder with a grin on her face, 
her tight tunnel milking me for all I had to give her.  Although I 
was certain she was satisfied just by making me cum in her, I 
wasn't quite so and reached under her to rub her clit.  Her 
reaction was instant, and I knew she had been close to orgasm 
herself just from anticipation of our screwing like this.

      Once I was satisfied that she had gotten hers as well, I slid 
my still firm cock from her petite snatch and watched with some 
amusement as it dripped into a little white pool on the floor.  She 
turned around and grinned wickedly at me as she reached for her 
purse that I hadn't noticed was in the room with us, and produced a 
few tissues, which she mopped against her drooling hole.

      "Good thing there's a tile floor in here," she commented as 
she pulled up her panties and retrieved a small towel from her 
purse as well.  She dropped to her knees, and with one hand held 
and sucked my dick clean while she wiped up the sex puddle with the 
towel in the other hand.  In all I don't think my pants were down 
more than five minutes before she was zipping them up for me.  I 
was about to open my mouth when she put her finger to it.  
"Sandwich shop down the street, five minutes," she told me, kissed 
me, and left.  For a 17-year old girl, she was acting quite the 
professional at this.

      After waiting the five minutes she had suggested, I went in 
pursuit of my secret new lover.  She was seated at a booth inside 
the restaurant, looking not at all like she'd just gotten her 
illegal twat filled five minutes earlier.  She waved and smiled at 
me and waited as I ordered before sitting down with her.

      "So," she started, trying not to look too lustfully at me, 
"how much fun did I miss last night?"  Now it was my turn to smile, 
which she naturally mistook for one of a father who had deflowered 
his daughter.

      "Not a thing," I answered and tried not to laugh at the look 
of shock on her face.

      "No way!" she almost shouted, making a few people look our 
way.  "When I left you were...and she saw...she was...nothing?" she 
asked again, as I shook my head chuckling.

      "She was out like a light as soon as she was done, and I'm 
not the kind of guy that would force that kind of thing on somebody 
when they're asleep."

      "Wow...I would have spent the night had I known that," she 
said, then falling silent a moment as her food was brought out to 
her.  "So what about this morning?  Did you say or try anything?"

      "No," I said, pausing a moment as well as my food was placed 
in front of me.  "Actually, she didn't seem to remember anything 
after she fell asleep after the bath.  She's a pretty heavy 
sleeper, so it's sort of a surprise she woke up at all while we 
were...you know."

      "Huh.  Well, I guess I'll have to ask her about it on 
Saturday then," Daisy said before taking a bite of her sandwich.

      "Saturday?" I asked, not aware plans had been made.

      "I'm taking her shopping.  Girl stuff.  No boys allowed," she 
informed me, sticking her tongue out at the end.

      "Will I be allowed at some point afterwards then?" I asked 
jokingly.

      "God yes, you think I'm going to just buy her stuff for 
free?" Daisy said, winking at me.  "Both of you are going to be 
paying me back...maybe even at the same time if you want."  While 
it was certainly an enticing mental image, that offer gave me 
pause.  I had no doubt that Daisy could make it happen, but I 
didn't want to be pushing Trisha into anything she wasn't ready 
for.  Daisy saw this hesitation on my face.

      "It's not like you'll be hurting her, you know," she told 
me.  "She thinks about you that way.  You are literally her first 
time fantasy."

      "Oh, I get that...it's just...I need to hear this from her," 
I answered.  "I don't doubt that she told you the truth and that 
she'd let me do it willingly, but as her father I need to be sure 
personally that this is what she wants without being pressured into 
it."

      "You want to make sure it's a special thing for her, don't 
you?" she added, understanding what I was getting at.

      "Yeah, I mean, so many girls just a little older than her are 
doing it with boys who just want to brag that they stuck it in.  I 
guess I want to make sure she doesn't feel used like that just to 
satisfy my desires."

      "You mean like how you made sure I got off just now in the 
storeroom?" Daisy charged with a smile.  Before I could respond to 
that, she continued.  "I'm kidding.  You're a sweet guy, Alan; 
worrying about the enjoyment that others are getting.  I was 
satisfied just feeling you inside of me, but I'm glad to see that 
you want her first time to be a special moment for her.  That kind 
of thing is extremely important for us girls, you know."  She 
smiled a little wistfully at whatever memory that statement carried 
for her, and then gave me that devilish naughty grin of hers.

      "But after that, we just like getting fucked!"  For the most 
part, since we started having this rather public discussion about 
the prospect of me committing incest, we kept our voices down and 
to ourselves, but we definitely earned a few stares from the other 
customers with Daisy's rather crude (but honest) declaration.  
While I was certainly embarrassed, she didn't show if she was at 
all.  "Well, I think we should head back to the office, Alan.  
Maybe we can talk more about this later," she said with a wink, 
wrapping her sandwich up to go, and leaving me there with a 
half-dozen pairs of eyes directed at me.  Either they thought I was 
a damn dirty pervert taking advantage of a teen, or lucky to have 
such a hot young girl eagerly teasing me with the way she talked.  
I felt quite the mix of both as I slouched down a little and ate 
the rest of my lunch.





      Chapter 8

      The rest of the work day slogged on past me.  Daisy was back 
to her normal self in our vocational interactions.  Every time I 
saw her, I couldn't help thinking about the deposit of sperm I'd 
left inside her during lunch.  Apparently the way I looked at her 
made her think about it as well, since she would frequently meet my 
gaze, only to then look away with a little blush.  As usual I left 
about 5:30, while she was to stay until about 6, so there was 
little chance of another rendezvous before the end of the day.  I 
did however find a present waiting for me in my car.  Laying on the 
driver's seat, apparently thrown in through the small gap I'd left 
in the window so my car didn't heat up like an oven, were a 
crumpled pair of light blue panties.  Admittedly, I didn't pay much 
attention to Daisy's panties while my cock was in her, but I had 
little doubt these had been hers.  The damp crotch kinda gave it 
away too.

      I got home to find Trisha was her normal sweet self, and no 
mysterious washings of the bed sheets had taken place.  Apparently 
she had learned how not to leave evidence that she played with 
herself.  Curiously though there were two towels in her hamper as I 
passed by her room.  She'd showered this morning, so the other one 
came from where?  I let her secret remain unquestioned, and just 
reminded myself that it was better with her masturbating to visions 
of her dear old dad than experimenting with boys.

      It was my turn to make dinner tonight, so I set to work 
cooking a pair of chicken breasts, rice, and green beans while she 
giggled at cartoons on the couch.  As I did this, the phone rang.  
Quite unusually, Trisha hopped off the couch and rushed to the 
phone before it could finish the second ring.

      "Hello? ... Hi, Daisy!" she chirped.  This caught my 
attention of course, but Trisha just scurried off with the phone 
down the hall and I heard her door close.  There she stayed for the 
next 15 minutes until I called her out to eat.  I noted a slight 
rosiness in her cheeks as she placed the phone back in the charging 
cradle and sat down to eat.

      "Ahem," I cleared my throat, getting a sheepish look from her.

      "That was Daisy on the phone, Daddy," she said, thinking that 
was what I wanted to hear.  "She wanted to talk a bit."

      "And?" I prompted, not ready to show my hand just yet.  She 
looked away from me, fidgeting a bit.

      "Private things, Daddy, I can't tell you..." she answered, 
looking up to see if that satisfied me.

      "Aren't you forgetting something?  Before you sat down here 
perhaps?"  This was a little cruel of me, I know, but I was also 
curious about what she might reveal.

      "I don't know...what you might mean, Daddy..."

      "Your hands honey..." this bit of prodding got a look of 
shock from her at first, the kind that said 'I've been caught!'  
She put it all together though, and nervously giggled as she got up 
from her seat.

      "Right...I didn't wash my hands before dinner, I'm sorry 
Daddy," she said before sprinting to the sink, an embarrassed 
mess.  I waited for her to come back and we started eating...or at 
least I did.  She sat quietly after taking a portion of the food, 
just looking at it.

      "Are you feeling okay, Trish?" I asked her.  She glanced up 
at me, and then back down to her food.

      "Well...yesterday..." she started, certainly getting my 
attention.  "You said you wanted to talk to me about...you 
know...remember?"  I had completely forgotten.

      "Right...you want to have that talk now?" I asked her, sort 
of surprised she was even bringing it up.

      "I have a few questions, Daddy..." she said, her voice 
getting quiet.

      "Sure.  Ask away," I consented to her wish, maybe a little 
too eagerly.

      "Um, well..." she struggled with her inhibition.  I found it 
interesting how just a few days ago she was giving me teases with 
her naked body, yet now it was an embarrassing thing to her.  I 
could only assume that was because at first it had just been all in 
good fun with no real consequences attached, but now there was the 
possibility that something more serious and life changing might 
follow it.  "When I, um, was on you, Daddy...and your 
willy...touched me..." she pointed to her hip about where the 
contact had been made.  "It got sticky stuff on me."  Holy 
shit...she was right.  So much had happened in those few moments, 
that the fact that I'd inadvertently rubbed some cum on her body 
just completely slipped my mind.

      "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to do that," I apologized.  
I admit, it felt very strange to be apologizing for something like 
that to your own daughter.

      "It's okay...were you...um, touching yourself, Daddy?" she 
asked, not even looking up.

      "Yes, I was."  That made her look up at me, her eyes just a 
little wider than before.  I could see she was trying not to grin 
as she giggled to herself.

      "Oh wow...so, uh...you get sticky too when you do that?"  I 
could see now she was finding a commonality between male and female 
masturbation, one that perhaps she had never considered before.

      "Well, it's a little different for boys than it is for girls, 
honey," I replied, pausing to see if she wanted more information.

      "Oh," was all she said, becoming thoughtfully silent, maybe 
even a little disappointed that she'd gotten something wrong.  
"So...did you...before I came in...were you done?"

      "Yes, sweetheart.  I had an orgasm before you came in the 
room."  I offered a bit more there than she'd necessarily asked me 
for, and the way she looked at me with something of a shock, and 
then a shifting and wriggling of her body in her seat gave me a 
whole paragraph of body language.

      "So your, um...willy...it gets sticky when you cu-...I mean, 
or-organasm?"  I couldn't help cracking a grin as she almost used a 
word I was sure she'd heard from Daisy the night before, and then 
stumbled over the proper word she corrected herself with.

      "When a man, orgasms, honey, semen comes out of his penis, 
from the same hole that we pee from.  There's a lot of it, in fact, 
it squirts out."  I could see her cheeks getting redder with every 
word I spoke.  I would have loved to had her imagination playing 
out for me on a TV screen.

      "W-why?!  I mean...where...where does it go?" she asked, 
maybe more terrified of the answer than actually curious.  I was 
sure she'd gotten the penis-goes-in-the-vagina talk from Daisy last 
night, if not from her mother some years ago.  It was only now that 
she'd actually seen a penis in it's erect state, and she was trying 
to picture it entering her body's much smaller opening.

      "The penis goes into the vagina, you know what that is, I 
hope," I said, pausing for her to bashfully nod yes, "and the semen 
is squirted into it.  That is how babies are made."

      "B-but not always!" she blurted out, and then calmed down a 
bit as she felt a little more courage, perhaps thinking she could 
teach me something here.  "M-Mummy told me, that when a girl got 
old enough to grow boobies, and hair on her fanny, that she would 
start to bleed a little from there...that meant she could make 
babies."

      "That's absolutely, right honey," I confirmed for her.  
"Probably in a few years or sooner you'll start doing that too."

      "Yeah, I know...I kinda talked about some girl things with 
Daisy last night, Daddy."  Finally, her first admission that any 
sort of sexual discussion took place the night before.  "That's 
okay, right, Daddy?  I can talk to Daisy about those things, right?"

      "Yes, sweetheart, that's absolutely fine.  I think Daisy 
would be a great person for you to learn some things about being a 
young woman from."  Trisha was smiling from ear to ear when I gave 
her my blessing to learn more from Daisy.

      "Would it be okay if Daisy bought me some things too?  She 
sorta offered to buy me a bra this weekend...maybe some pretty 
knickers too..."  There was so much hope and eagerness in her eyes, 
that even if I had been opposed to such an outing, I couldn't have 
turned her down.

      "You may go," which was enough to have Trisha up out of her 
chair and running around the table to throw her arms around my 
neck, "but..." and that got her pulling back with a bit of 
confusion.  "But you will not take advantage of Daisy's kindness, 
okay?  I will give you money, and you will pay for them, not 
Daisy."  She vigorously nodded her head yes to this arrangement.

      "Of course, Daddy," she agreed quite readily.

      "And just this first time is a gift from me to you.  If you 
want to buy any more, you'll need to save your money up to buy 
them.  Being responsible for that is also part of being a young 
woman."

      "Yes, Daddy, I understand," she said, trying to keep from 
bouncing up and down from excitement.  I could see a thought enter 
her mind as she paused, staring off at nothing in particular.  
"Where will I get my money from, Daddy?  Do I have to get a job 
like you and Daisy?"  I had to laugh because of how distraught 
she'd sounded saying the word 'job.'

      "No, honey, I'm going to give you an allowance every week.  
You already do so much around the house, that I think you'll earn 
it very easily.  In fact, just to be fair, I'll start off by giving 
you $100 for everything you've been doing up until now for free, 
okay?"

      "ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!  THAT'S FANTASTIC!" she squealed.  "How 
much will my allowance be?!"

      "I'll give you $1 for each chore you do.  When you do the 
laundry, that's $1.  When you cook dinner, that's another dollar.  
You'll probably be making about $15 a month that way.  Maybe we can 
come up with some other things you can do too for some money."  I 
know what you're thinking, and no, that was not what I had in mind 
when I told her that, but believe me, the thought had crossed my 
mind.

      "Okay! Okay Daddy, okay!" she twittered happily, kissing my 
cheek and hugging me again.  "Thank you, Daddy," she said, looking 
into my eyes, her own twinkling with love.  For the briefest of 
moments, I wanted to press my own lips to hers, and I got the 
feeling that she wanted to do the same.  Our birds-and-the-bees 
talk had been forgotten in the excitement of her allowance being 
decided upon, but with our bodies pressed up close like this, and 
the hormonal rushes of adolescence perhaps enhancing her love for 
me at that very moment, there was very suddenly sexual tension 
between us.  I knew I wasn't the only one of us that felt it, 
because she did move her face closer to mine, her lips on an 
invisible track to meet mine.  Whatever series of events that might 
have been sparked by a kiss at this moment were put on ice when 
next I spoke.

      "Your dinner is getting cold, honey."  Trisha stopped.  Had 
she been any closer, my lips would have brushed on her own when I 
moved them to speak.  She pulled back, smiling shyly, and turned 
away from me to return to her seat.  I don't think I'd ever felt so 
much regret in my life than I did at that moment.  I had taken in 
the sight of her young body many times over the past few days, but 
this time felt so much different.  I noticed for the first time the 
sway of her hips, the bounce of her hair, the way her body flexed 
and compressed as she took each step.

      Her profile in that instant especially caught my eye, not 
because of the subtle peaks emerging from her chest, but because of 
the memories it returned to me.  She was every inch her mother's 
daughter, and I was reminded of all the reasons I had gone to bed 
with that beautiful woman over a decade and half a world ago.  
Trisha had been born with those eyes and that smile...a virtual 
cloning of the same pair of lips that had eagerly surrounded my 
cock both before and after we had unknowingly conceived the child 
that was now seated across the dinner table from me, grinning like 
a fool as she devoured her food.  I must have stared and spent a 
little too much time watching her and reminiscing about such 
things, because it prompted her to speak.

      "What's wrong, Daddy?  Are you not hungry?"  Trisha was 
looking at me, scrutinizing my sudden lack of appetite.  The eyes 
now took on the resemblance of her mother's, the same wary 
questioning gaze that I had been greeted with when I had offered to 
buy her a drink in that pub.

      "No, it's nothing, sweetheart...I was just thinking...you 
look so much like your mom."  We didn't discuss her mother much.  
Trisha usually did her best to change the subject if I tried to ask 
about her, but that comment from me really made her beam.

      "Thank you, Daddy...Mummy was very beautiful, wasn't she?"

      "Yes, honey, she was.  I wish I'd known her more."  That 
really put a shy blush on Trisha's face.  I suppose she'd always 
known that she was the product of a one-night stand, but it wasn't 
really until these last few days that she came to understand what 
exactly took place during that encounter.

      "You'd really like her, Daddy..."

      I couldn't argue with that, since many years ago, for about 
five hours, I most certainly did.





      Chapter 9

      Had this been like any other night during the previous two 
years, I'd probably have been jerking off before bed, but since I'd 
been given a presumably endless invitation for sex from Daisy, I 
chose to read a book this evening instead.  My mind wasn't really 
on the words on the page, though.  Instead I was busy thinking 
about Trisha, naturally.  Ever since dinner as I had watched her 
eat like I was some kind of a love struck school boy, I had been 
wondering if I was exactly that, love struck.

      I supposed that as my daughter, I did indeed love her, but 
for a long time it had felt like a kind of forced love.  After all, 
I had been a 35-year old bachelor when Trisha came into my life.  
It was a rather sudden transition from going out drinking with my 
buddies after work to coming home to make dinner for a little 
girl.  I know that first night she was under my roof, I said those 
three words to her, 'I love you,' but that's what I was supposed to 
say, right?  It felt stiff and fake as I just sort of put them out 
there after tucking her in to my bed and then I went and slept on 
the couch.  I knew she was scared, I knew she was alone, and 
completely unsure of who this man was that had taken her into his 
home.

      Hell, I felt pretty much the same on all of those counts.  I 
didn't know the first thing about raising a pre-adolescent 
daughter.  I might have had some inkling of what should be done if 
I'd been around her for a few years, but suddenly, there she was.  
It was only several months later that I really grew into my new 
role as a father.  Bit by bit, the way she said 'Daddy' became 
softer and fuller of life, and in a similar fashion the way I said 
'I love you' did as well.  Still, there was a feeling that it was 
by rote, and not by emotion.  It probably wasn't until a full year 
had passed that it all felt normal to me.  In much the same way 
expectant parents had nine months to grow used to the idea of 
caring for a new life, it took a kind of pregnancy period for me to 
become a father that Trisha could depend on.  A span of time in 
which thunderstorms, bee stings, wet beds, and squished spiders 
strengthened the bonds of our awkward little family.  Now it was 
changing all over again.

      As I had said, I felt like a love struck schoolboy, and like 
every schoolboy, that love was initiated by physical lust.  Those 
little budding breasts and that bald baby smooth slit she showed 
off, had driven me to masturbating into her panties.  There was no 
love in that act, just as there had been no love the night I had 
spent with Trisha's mother or those two times I fucked Daisy.  
Under different circumstances I could have grown to love her 
mother, and I may still grow to love Daisy, but with those two, 
just as with the other half-dozen women I'd bedded in my life, 
there was never any real love.  It was all lust up until now.

      Now I had a blooming young woman in my home, somebody who I 
cared for as dearly as I cared for my own mother, who was lusting 
for me, and I was absolutely hesitant to touch her until she 
requested it of me directly.  I had every opportunity last night to 
molest her sleeping body, and indeed I took great care in wiping 
the vaginal fluids from her thighs and vulva, but that wasn't a 
sexual act to me.  In those moments when I dried her, those folds 
of flesh weren't just another pussy for me to assert my masculinity 
over, but the private, intimate, body parts of my own daughter.  
Yes I had brief fantasies of penetrating into them, but I could 
never fully separate those thoughts with the reality that some day 
my grandchildren would pass back through them.  It was considering 
this sort of thing that gave me peace of mind about my own 
intentions.

      No matter how sexy she grew up to be, no matter how much she 
flirted or provoked me as she'd done already this week, my lust for 
her would always be trumped by my duty, love, and respect for her 
as her father.  Be it tomorrow with me, in the next few years with 
some boy, or her wedding night with her husband, the decision to 
lose her virginity was Trisha's alone, and that was something that 
I felt committed to accepting without jealousy, disappointment, or 
pressure.

      "Daddy?"  I looked up from the book that I was barely reading 
and saw Trisha standing there in the doorway in her usual nighttime 
attire.  She had a troubled look on her face.  "C-can I ask you 
about something?"

      "Sure, sweetheart.  C'mon up here," I said patting the bed.  
I could see her looking at my midsection, no doubt wondering if I 
was nakedly post-orgasmic again tonight.  She kept up this 
scrutinizing look as she hopped up beside me, again, as days 
before, her shirt hung down as she crawled towards me, affording me 
a look at her little pink peaks.

      "Um, well...you know, how you said you did that or-org-orgasm 
thing after you, uh, played with your willy?"  I was pretty 
impressed without how she just came out and asked me with less 
hesitation than earlier at dinner, and with quite a bit of eye 
contact as well.

      "Yes..." I answered her, prodding her forward with the 
inflection in my voice.

      "Uh, well, I...the other night," she sputtered, visibly 
shrinking back from her boldness seconds ago.  The very personal 
nature of what she was about to say, was highly apparent.  
"...I...is it okay...if I...I tried..."  Her hands were wringing 
about nervously in her lap and her voice was getting progressively 
smaller as she looked for the courage to say something to me.  I 
took her hand in mine, making her jolt with a bit of surprise as 
she nearly drew back in nervous panic, but she could see I was only 
trying to comfort her.  "I'm really nervous Daddy...it's almost too 
embarrassing to say..."

      "It's okay, sweetheart," I assured her, noticing just how 
sweaty her hand was in mine.  "Nothing you say will make me think 
you're bad or naughty or make me want to tease you.  Just calm 
down, take a deep breath, and tell me what has you so worked up."  
She looked up at me, and I touched my hand to her cheek, feeling 
how hot she'd gotten.

      "I t-t-touched myself..." and with just that I could see some 
of that tension melt out of her, though her hand clenched mine more 
tightly.  "...b-but, I d-didn't do that o-orgasm thing like you 
said..."  Well I already knew that she indeed had, because I saw it 
with my own eyes last night, and Daisy had testified to witnessing 
many others.  Maybe she didn't want to admit that too...or, maybe, 
she didn't know that's what she had done.

      "I see..." I said, admittedly a little lost on where to go 
from here.  "Well, it's um, it's really normal for a girl your age 
to masturbate," and I saw the question on her face when I spoke the 
m-word.  "That's what it's called when somebody plays with them 
self, you masturbated."  I paused for a moment to let her think 
about that word.  "And when a girl as young as you masturbates, it 
might feel really good, but you might not have an orgasm yet."

      "O-oh...w-what about c-c-cum?"  I shot her an eyebrow as she 
used the grown up term, and she wiggled about in place, fidgeting 
as she felt trapped by knowing she'd have to reveal some of her fun 
with Daisy to explain how she knew that word.

      "Where did you learn that word?" I asked her.

      "D-Daisy, Daddy..."  I appreciated her honesty, but I knew 
she wouldn't spill the beans if she could get out of it, and I kind 
of wanted to let her keep her secret.

      "Daisy told me, honey," and I saw her eyes squeeze shut while 
wishing herself invisible, "that you asked her a few things about 
growing up, including some private things that she wouldn't share 
with me.  Is that how you learned that word?"  She looked up at me 
with a flush of relief, nodding vigorously to agree with my version 
of events.

      "Y-yes, Daddy...she told me that w-when I got w-w-wet and 
felt really nice...I came and made girl cum..."  I was getting a 
better idea now of what confusions she had in her head.

      "You know how 'willy' and 'fanny' are silly words for private 
parts?" I asked her, which got a nod in agreement.  "Okay, well 
'cum' is a silly word like those two, but it can mean different 
things at the same time."  Her furrowed brow begged for 
explanation.  "'Cum' is a grown-up silly word, and we use it to 
mean both orgasm, and the liquids that come out of our bodies 
during sex."

      "So...you mean that my wet fanny stuff is called cum...just 
like your sticky willy sperm stuff is called cum too?"

      "That's right."

      "And if I...came?  That means I...made wet stuff?" she asked, 
stitching the concepts together, if perhaps a bit unevenly.

      "No, sweetheart, that means you had an orgasm."  She looked 
at me with some surprise when I told her that.

      "B-but, Daddy...I didn't squirt like you do...I just got 
really wet in my fanny."

      "That's because you're a girl, honey.  Boys squirt sperm out 
of their penis, girls don't squirt when they orgasm."  Not exactly 
true, I know, but it wasn't anything she needed to know or be 
confused about.

      "So...why do I make all that wet stuff then?" she asked me, 
genuinely puzzled.

      "That's to make sex easier and feel better.  If your vagina 
didn't get wet, it would hurt a lot for a penis to go inside it."

      "It's really messy," she pouted a bit, without quite 
realizing she'd referenced one of her secrets this week.

      "Kind of like spilling water on your bed," I offered to her 
as analogy, which she half-nodded in agreement with before catching 
that I was using her own explanation for the need to wash my 
sheets.  The comfortable mood she'd gotten into with this sex-ed 
discussion, turned into some embarrassment and she hung her head.

      "I'm sorry, Daddy."

      "It's okay, honey.  You cleaned up after yourself, and I'm 
not mad.  You've gotten very responsible lately."  That seemed to 
encourage her to resume eye contact with me.

      "But I didn't tell you the truth about it."

      "It's okay, sweetheart.  I know it was probably very 
embarrassing for you, and you didn't want to tell me about it 
because you thought I would punish you."

      "I didn't like when you yelled at me that night...I was 
scared you'd yell at me again for doing naughty things with my 
fanny."  The old specter of genital shame was rearing its head.

      "Trisha, there is nothing wrong with masturbating, okay?  I 
do it, you do it, your mom probably did it, I'm sure Daisy does 
it...pretty much everybody does it, okay?  But it's a private 
thing, like going to the bathroom, and can make people 
uncomfortable to talk about.  Places on your body, like your fanny 
and your breasts are not bad places, but they too can make people 
uncomfortable when they see them suddenly or without asking.  
They're private places, just like my penis, and that's what made me 
upset.  You grabbed that part of me without permission.  You 
wouldn't like it if I started touching you in your private places 
if I didn't have permission, would you?"

      "No," she sighed, perhaps thinking that's exactly what she 
wouldn't mind if I was doing to her.

      "So you understand now.  I wasn't angry that you showed me 
your new breasts the night before, and I wasn't angry that you 
showed me your fanny the next night, but when you started trying to 
feel my private parts without my consent, that is what made me 
angry, and I'm sorry that I yelled at you."

      "Okay."

      "I love you, sweetheart, and I think every part of you is 
beautiful and you should not be ashamed of it, but especially now 
that you're turning into a woman, you should be aware that your 
body can make grown men like me think and want to do bad things to 
you, so be mindful of your actions."  That got a big grin on her 
face.

      "You mean I got your willy hard by showing you my fanny and 
my boobies, don't you?"  I couldn't deny it.  She had felt it 
herself after all.

      "Yes, sweetheart.  I got an erection looking at your naked 
private places, but it's not nice to tease boys or men like that.  
They might get the wrong idea and hurt you or touch you without 
your permission."

      "That's called rape, isn't it Daddy?"  I had to raise an 
eyebrow there.

      "Yes it is, how do you know what rape is?"  That made her 
withdraw a little.  "Trisha, did somebody try to do something with 
you?"

      "No, Daddy...I heard Mummy say it once, and I asked her what 
it meant.  She said it was when a bad person touches your privates 
and it hurts a lot and makes you sad."  I got the feeling there was 
more to the anecdote than that, but I saw Trisha yawn, and glanced 
at the clock, 12:30.

      "I think you should get to bed, honey.  You've got a big day 
with Daisy tomorrow."

      "Okay, Daddy," she said, leaning over atop me to give me a 
hug and kissing my cheek.  I couldn't help noticing there was a 
much softer feel to her chest as she pushed her baby breasts 
against my body.  I rubbed her back thinking that this might be one 
of the last times I don't feel a strap across it.  She sat up, and 
with a sort of crooked smile looked at me.  "Uh, Daddy...would it 
be okay if I put a towel under me...so I don't mess my bed like 
before?"  Her cheeks were a nice rosy color, as she studied the 
designs on my wooden headboard to avoid looking at me.

      "Sure, sweetheart, that's fine."

      "Okay, thanks Daddy, g'night!" she chirped and beat a hasty 
retreat out of the room.  I could tell by the creak of the 
floorboards that she had gone past her bedroom door to the 
bathroom, and another creak shortly after that signaled that she 
had passed over the spot again, followed by the sound of her door 
closing.  I suppose I felt somewhat proud of myself, getting her 
able to feel comfortable in asking and confiding in me some 
personal secrets.  I had half a mind to get up and go listen in at 
her door, but just the knowledge enough that my little girl was 
happily, healthily, and hygienically enjoying her body and its 
ability to produce pleasure was enough to induce an erection.  As 
it turned out I didn't have to go listen at her door anyways.  
Within 10 minutes a faint squealing moan found its way to my ears, 
and assisted in my own blissful climax.





      Chapter 10

      "Daddywakeup!" was the phrase that cruelly dragged me out of 
my slumber, and was immediately followed by 65 lbs of little girl 
leaping atop me.  I rolled onto my back and looked up at the 
grinning proto-nymphet straddling my body, already dressed and had 
perhaps too much make-up on her face.

      "Wha--what time is it, honey?" I asked her groggily.

      "Eight-thirty Daddy!  Daisy will be here in a half an hour!" 
she said, bouncing lightly on my stomach.  "Getup getup getup!" she 
chanted, her enthusiasm adding a slight thrusting motion to her 
hips which she was entirely unaware of what that sight evoked in me.

      "Okay, okay," I said, rolling onto my side again, making her 
fall giggling onto the bed next to me.  I half-pretended to fall 
back asleep, producing an annoyed whine from her lips, which 
started kissing my nose, cheek, and forehead.

      "Get up Daddy, or I'll keep doing this!" she threatened.

      "You promise?" I asked her with a smile on my face.

      "Daddyyyy...c'mon!  If you're not up in five minutes, I won't 
show you the pretty things I buy today."  Now that was a threat, 
and one she felt pretty certain would get me up...er, wake me up.

      "Fine--"

      "Yay!  I'll go start breakfast!" she interrupted me, and then 
rushed out of the room.  The kid-on-Christmas-morning-like 
adrenaline rush was surging through her today.  I sat up and 
stretched before swinging my legs out of bed.  I put on my 
comfortable house pants, and could smell the little breakfast 
sausages cooking as I made my way to the bathroom.  Trisha was 
certainly going all out today.

      My bladder having been emptied, I came out to the dining 
area.  Trisha was standing on her little step stool in front of the 
stove, mixing up some pancake batter in her little apron.  I 
couldn't help thinking what an awesome wife she would make for a 
lucky guy some day as I took my seat at the table and watched her.  
She glanced over her shoulder and saw at me watching her.

      "What are you looking at, Daddy?" she asked me, bemused by my 
attention.

      "Nothing honey...just you...you look like a little wife."

      "D-Daddy!" she blushed, flustered at the suggestion.  I 
started to get up from my seat.  "Do you need something, Daddy?" 
she asked.

      "I was just going to get the newspaper, honey," I told her.  
She hopped down from the stool and came over to me, putting her 
hands on my arm, and gently pushing me back into my seat.

      "I'll get it for you Daddy," she said, and not taking no for 
an answer, she hustled her cute butt to the front door.  I 
certainly didn't mind the pampering attentiveness she was showing 
me, but I wondered why it was being shown.  In to time at all, she 
was back, delivering the paper onto the table in front of me, and 
got right back up on the step stool, pouring the pancake batter 
onto the griddle.  I watched with amusement as she flitted about 
the kitchen like a humming bird, setting the table, pouring me some 
coffee she'd apparently brewed shortly after getting up, flipping 
the pancakes, serving the sausages and my pancakes, and then 
cooking some for herself.

      She sighed as she sat down, finally getting a moment's rest 
after 10 minutes of straight work.  I'd just finished my pancakes 
as she was digging in, and she glared at me as I speared and ate 
little sausage after little sausage.

      "Daddy, you're eating them all!" she pouted in protest.  
"Leave some for me!" and she speared three at once with her fork, 
popping the one on the end into her mouth with a grin of 
accomplishment.

      "Careful, princess," I said teasingly, "eat too much and you 
won't fit in everything you buy today."  That certainly got an 
annoyed reaction from her.  She was a very fit young lady, and she 
knew it.  Weight was, for now anyways, an okay subject to joke about.

      "Shush Daddy, I'm growing and need to eat!" she retorted with 
a haughty air about her, and pushed out her chest to emphasize her 
area of recent growth.  She only held that pose for a moment before 
seeing my grin and dissolving into giggles herself.  I occupied 
myself with the paper and my coffee as she ate, and with almost 
perfect timing, the doorbell rang as Trisha was setting her dish in 
the sink.  She shrieked with excitement and ran to the door, 
opening it before I could even stand up.

      The door swung open, and there was Daisy, dressed now in more 
casual clothes, looking every bit like the teenage girl that she 
was, in contrast to her mature look at the office.  Accompanying 
her was a younger girl, older than Trisha though, but resembling 
Daisy quite a bit.

      "Hi, we're here!" sang Daisy, with the girl echoing her 
greeting a fraction of a second behind.

      "Come in," I said, getting up to greet them.  They came in, 
and I could see Trisha looked conflicted a little.  She had been so 
hyper before, that I was certain she was going to pounce on Daisy 
like she had done to me this morning already, but with this 
additional guest, she seemed restrained.

      "Alan, Trisha, this is my little sister, Krista," Daisy said, 
introducing us all.

      "Hello," Krista said, offering Trisha her hand, which was 
accepted with slight trepidation...jealousy maybe?

      "Hi," Trisha said, a little muted.  I stepped forward and 
offered my own hand to the girl.

      "Pleased to meet you, Krista," I said.  I noticed a rather 
large smile on her face as she shook my hand, maybe even a twinkle 
of mischief like her big sister had been displaying to me the last 
two days.

      "Me too, Mr. Beaumont," she said, then turned to Trisha.  
"Can I see your room?" she asked my daughter, who looked at Daisy 
and me for a moment, before answering.

      "Okay,. It's this way," she said, and led the way for Krista 
to follow.  Once they had gotten out of sight, Daisy threw her arms 
around my neck and pressed her lips up to me.

      "So, anything happen with you two yet?" she asked me, hungry 
for details.  Too bad for her there were none.

      "Hate to disappoint," I told her, which made her brow furrow.

      "Jeez, I encouraged her and everything on the phone yesterday 
too.  You shoulda heard her breathing into the phone as I described 
all the fun you and I had earlier at work!"  I jerked my head back 
from her and stared at her like she was crazy.

      "Y-y-you what?!"  I asked her, completely astonished.  Daisy 
just laughed.

      "I'm kidding, just kidding.  You should have seen your face 
just now.  I couldn't resist."  I sighed in some relief, the last 
thing I needed this week was Trisha finding out that I was screwing 
her babysitter and new best friend in the supply room at work.  "I 
did learn something from her though.  She told me that Thursday 
night she had a dream where you and I were naked and rubbing on 
each other.  A dream!  Can you believe that?"  Well, that explained 
her apparent lack of memory the day after.

      "I can understand it.  Seeing something like that, just after 
waking up and then falling asleep immediately after, thinking it 
was all made up.  She's still just a little girl, Daisy," I offered 
as an explanation.

      "Yeah, a little girl that is just aching to get stuffed with 
her daddy's meat.  I'm telling you, she's ready and willing."

      "Yeah, well, she needs to tell me that."  Daisy sighed at my 
resistance.

      "Fine...I guess you'll just have to use me for sex a little 
longer then," she lamented, though sounding completely unconvincing 
about it.  "I guess we should get this show on the road before 
Krista convinces Trisha to lay in bed all day with her legs 
spread.  The girl's got a magic little mouth on her," Daisy 
revealed to me with a wink.  I could only chuckle.  These Barton 
girls had something special in their gene pool.

      "C'mon, ladies, let's move it," Daisy called out.  It was a 
minute or two before we heard Trisha's door latch, during which 
Daisy was groping my cock through my pants.  She promptly stopped 
though, and appearances were kept.  There was a smirk on Krista's 
face, and a bit of a flush on Trisha's when she looked at me, 
though the excess make-up she had been wearing earlier was now 
gone, and she looked more like a cute tween now than an aspiring 
hooker.

      "D-Daddy, can I have some money now?" she asked me, pushing 
aside whatever had just transpired between her and Krista moments 
ago and getting down to the business at hand.  I retrieved my 
wallet and checkbook.

      "Here's what I'm going to do.  I'm going to write a check to 
Daisy for $150, okay?  That's the $100 we talked about last night, 
and another $50 for my present to you today.  She'll cash it and 
give you the money, and I don't want to hear about you begging her 
for anything out of her own pocket, got it?"

      "Yes, Daddy," Trisha agreed readily.  I cut the check and 
handed it, plus $25 in cash to Daisy.  "That's for gas and lunch 
for you three.  Don't let her talk you into anything you can't 
afford, no matter how cute she makes herself," I advised Daisy, 
which prompted a chagrined Trisha to hit my arm.  "Daddyyy, stop 
it!" she whined.

      "Don't worry, Alan.  I think we'll have a great time today," 
Daisy assured me, though the way she looked at me while she said it 
made me wonder if 'we' referred to the three of them, or her and I 
alone...but where might such an opportunity present itself?  I 
mulled that over as I kissed Trisha's cheek and watched the three 
of them head out the door.  Daisy apparently wanted just a tad more 
alone time with me as well, since she lagged behind.

      "See you later?" I asked her.

      "Fuck yeah," she replied with a grin, and hurried to her 
car.  I watched them drive off, and closed the door, alone in my 
house for the first time in two years.  Waiting the next couple of 
hours for them to come back was going to drive me crazy.

      ***

      The first phone call was at 10:30, wherein Trisha was 
excitedly gushing to me over the phone that she had measured as a 
30AA and was now the proud owner, and wearer, of a training bra.

      The next phone call was at noon.  My daughter, who had never 
worn anything but a one-piece since she'd first stepped in the 
Australian surf, excitedly told me that she had just purchased a 
bikini.  Daisy assured me that it was quite appropriate in 
appearance for a girl her age.

      Another call came in at 3.  They'd just left a beauty salon 
and were headed to a movie.  I couldn't get any details about what 
kind of little movie star I'd be welcoming home tonight, but in 
Krista's words, Trisha was a "total knock-out."

      Finally, 5:30, Daisy called to say they were on their way 
home, but had one more stop to make.  She wouldn't elaborate at 
all, but did ask if I had eaten yet.  Aside from a light snack an 
hour earlier, she had nothing to worry about there.

      From that point on, I was pacing back and forth, stomach 
complaining the whole time.  The sound of an engine in the driveway 
made it growl the loudest, as I was certain they had brought 
dinner.  Hurried footsteps up to the door and I got my first look 
at Trisha, the young woman of the day.

      The smile on her face was something that no amount of money 
could buy.  Her normally plain long hair had been cut to her 
shoulders and curled into several little ringlets.  Her skin glowed 
from the salon treatments it had received, and as she handed me a 
pair of Chinese food boxes, I saw too that her nails had been 
painted and manicured.  Once her hands were free, she pulled up her 
shirt and very happily displayed for me the very plain, but 
adorable little bra she had chosen as her first.

      "I got 5 more!" she enthused, before pulling her shirt down 
and running back out to the car to gather her bags while Daisy and 
Krista brought in the rest of our Chinese feast.  For the next hour 
we ate and laughed together, filling the house for the first time 
since Trisha came to live with me with some kind of noise that 
wasn't created by a TV set.  I was filled by a sense that tonight 
was one that neither Trisha nor I wanted to end early.





      Chapter 11

      After we'd finished eating, Daisy and Krista bid us goodbye 
and left for home, leaving just Trisha and I alone in the house 
after a busy day without each other's company.  While I cleared the 
table and tended to the dishes, Trisha disappeared into her room 
with the multitude of bags she'd brought home.  My work in the 
kitchen was finished quickly and I headed back to my bedroom to 
straighten up in anticipation of a visit from Daisy later after 
Trisha had gone to bed.  I had just finished making the bed when I 
heard a noise behind me.  I turned and there was Trisha in the 
doorway.

      "Um, Daddy...do you wanna...see?"

      "See?  See what, honey?"

      "My uh...my bra..."

      "You showed it to me when you got home, remember?" I reminded 
her.

      "Y-yeah, but this one is different..."  Who was I to turn 
down such an offer?  Admittedly I liked her better topless, but I 
wasn't going to force her to my will.

      "Okay," I said, and sat down on the side of the bed and 
looked at her expectantly.  As I'd expected, she looked away from 
my gaze, but she didn't back down.  She took a few steps towards 
me, paused a second as she gripped the bottom of her shirt, and 
then pulled it over her head and then held it behind her back as 
she pushed out her preteen chest at me.

      While the first bra she had shown me a little over an hour 
earlier was of the halter top style, not lending to too much skin 
being exposed across her upper chest, this one had a much more 
classic design.  Each little puffy bump had it's own cup that was 
held in place by the usual system of straps and clasps.  At a 
glance she certainly didn't appear to need anything at all, since 
she virtually had nothing at all, but given my privileged front row 
seat to her young body, I could see how each little lump did their 
best to push back at their respective coverings for a nice round 
little bulging effect.

      "D-do you like it, Daddy?" she asked, almost cringing in 
anticipation that I might respond negatively.  She obviously was 
not a mind reader nor did she have x-ray vision that would have let 
her see my erection inside my pants.

      "It's pretty honey.  You look grow up with it on."  That got 
me some eye contact from her, with her face lighting up into a 
broad smile.

      "Really Daddy?  I look grown up like Daisy and Krista do?"

      "W-well..." I stuttered, she didn't look THAT grown up.  
"...in your own way...yes..."  She got my meaning despite my 
hesitant wording and put her hands over her little boobs with a pout.

      "I know I'm small, Daddy...you don't need to remind me..."  
She was silent a moment as her expression and mannerisms gave me a 
little insight into her thoughts.  From determination to excitement 
to fear and back to determination, she finally turned her eyes up 
to meet mine and lowered her hands to her sides.  "Wou-would 
you...t-t-...would you..." she closed her eyes, shook her head from 
side to side, and took a deep breath before looking up at me again, 
courage in her eyes.  "Will you touch my b-boobies, Daddy?"  I 
couldn't really say I was shocked, but I did regard her a little 
warily for a moment.

      "Are you sure about what you're asking me, Trisha?"

      "Y-yes!" she confirmed, almost yelling the word with 
conviction before settling down some.  "It's okay, Daddy.  It's not 
rape, like we talked about last night...I give you permission to 
touch my boobs a-and..." she stopped herself, a look of uncertainty 
holding her back from continuing.

      "And?" I prompted.

      "N-nothing...I just want you to touch me, Daddy."  I had a 
feeling she had almost invited me under her skirt, but I knew the 
rules I'd set for myself; she didn't ask, so I wouldn't jump the 
gun.  She was looking up at me, both scared and expectant, so when 
I raised my hand and moved it towards her slender torso, she 
squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for a much stronger 
impact than I was intending to make.

      To say that she was surprised when my hand touched her cheek 
was an understatement.  She positively hopped a few inches into the 
air and gasped as though she had been holding her breath.

      "Trisha Abigail McClaren Beaumont," I said, using her full 
name, which I had last done that second night when scolding her for 
grabbing my cock in bed, "I would love to touch your breasts."  She 
stared at me, wide-eyed, body starting to tremble as I moved my 
hand from her cheek, down to her collar bone, and then sliding to 
cover her bra and left breast, her heart beating wildly beneath.  
Although not having been visible, I could feel her excited little 
nipple pushing against the patch of fabric.  I pressed down and 
moved my hand slightly, causing the cup to rub against that 
sensitive protrusion and Trisha to whimper and wriggle.

      "Daddy..." she protested weakly, the friction being a little 
too much for her.  To my surprise, she reached behind her back and 
undid the clasp, the bra going slack upon her torso.  "...that rubs 
on me too much when you touch."  I slipped a finger under the cup 
and pulled it away from her, exposing her little bumps to me for 
the second time this week, but allowing me to touch them for the 
first.  I knew her body would be soft and warm, just as it had been 
two nights ago when I had cradled her half-naked sexually exhausted 
and satisfied body in my arms, but the first touch of my daughter's 
breast was still a moment of wonder and excitement for me.  Her 
too, it seemed.

      "Daddy...I think...I think I need...to go to my room..." she 
said with breathless excitement.  I noticed she couldn't stand 
still, almost like she was walking in place, an odd version of the 
'potty dance.'

      "Why, honey?  What's wrong?"

      "B-because...m-my fanny is...it's getting wet...I want to rub 
it Daddy..."  I was so tempted to throw her on my bed and rub her 
bald pussy for her, but I knew better and made the suggestion 
instead.

      "You don't have to go, Trisha.  You can stay here with me."  
She hadn't looked me in the eye since her shirt came off, but all 
of a sudden I was a lot more interesting than the carpet.  I 
noticed her hand was on her belly, trying to snake it's way lower, 
but she was fighting the urge in my presence.

      "B-but...you said it was private...not something you do in 
front of other people..." she sputtered, obviously conflicted 
between staying and what I had taught her last night.

      "Then you don't have to do it in front of me," I said, making 
her confused.  "I can do it for you."  As my offer was processed 
through her brain, I could see the desire for this encounter 
painted all over her face.  She moved her twitching hand away from 
her waist, and stood quietly, awkwardly, waiting for me to have my 
way with her.  I reached for her waist, and I could see her body 
tense in preparation for the immediate sexual contact she was 
expecting.  It must have been torture for her then that I was only 
reaching for the button on her skirt to remove it.

      The pleated strip of cloth fell to her feet, and I could now 
see that her panties, which looked new, and very cute and sexy for 
a girl her age and size, were damp in the front and sticking to her 
anatomy.  I put my hands to her hips and pulled down on the 
waistband.  Although I'd dressed her just two nights earlier, 
covering her naked sensitive post-orgasmic cunny with white panties 
similar to those she was wearing now, it was in no way the same 
experience as taking them off for the purpose of pleasuring her 
body.  The upper fabric moved easily and readily exposed her still 
narrow hips and upper pubic mound.  She shifted her feet to open 
her legs and the crotch of her panties came away from her slit only 
when pulled down.

      Trisha, though naked and horny, still felt self-conscious 
about me seeing her body, and covered her bald slit with her hand.  
Self control was no match for the feeling of her hand between her 
legs, and she started to rub her slit.  I took her less busy hand 
and pulled her towards me and the bed, which she climbed upon 
without ceasing her masturbating.  I laid her down on her back, and 
spread her legs.  She couldn't stand to look at me while I 
positioned her, the whole situation running contrary to her learned 
behavior, but still her hand never stopped frigging away.  It was 
enough to make me wonder if I had made a mistake and this was too 
fast for her.

      "Trisha?"  She didn't look at me, and though her hand didn't 
stop, her expression wasn't particularly a happy one.  I saw a tear 
fall out the corner of her eye and trickle down the side of her 
nose.  "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" I asked, and she curled up in a 
ball.  I put my hand around her shoulder and sat her up, holding 
her close to me.  She buried her face in my chest and cried.  
"Trisha, honey, I'm sorry.  We don't have to do this, I just 
thought you--"

      "I do Daddy...I do..." she said.

      "Then why are you so upset, honey?"

      "I don't want you to be mad at me, Daddy.  I don't want you 
to think I'm bad or strange to want it."  I was a little confused.

      "I don't honey.  We talked about this last night, remember?  
How it's okay when both people want to do these private things 
together."

      "R-right...but...I want more things...more things now..."

      "Trisha, what do you want that is so bad?" I asked her.  She 
pulled back from me, and looked at my face, her lips trembling as 
the words came out.

      "I...I want you to f-fuck me."  Before I could respond, she 
bolted from me and my bed and I heard her bedroom door slam, 
leaving behind the new clothes and underwear she had so eagerly 
wanted to model for me.

      ***

      I had considered pursuing her, finding out what went wrong, 
but I decided to give her some space and to work out whatever 
anxiety she had developed with regards to asking me to be her 
first.  It was about an hour until I heard her door open, and the 
floorboards creak.  I had already relocated myself to the living 
room by then, but I could tell she had gone to my bedroom.  There 
was a brief pause before I heard the floor creak again, and she 
emerged into view from the hall in her pajamas.

      "Hi, sweetheart," I said, as though nothing had taken place.  
"Are you feeling better?"

      "Y-yes Daddy..." she answered meekly, a crooked smile forcing 
it's way to her lips.  "Could I stay up a little late with you?"

      "Sure, honey.  C'mon over," I said, moving the newspaper off 
the couch beside me.  She practically bounced over to my side and 
snuggled in.  I recognized this behavior again as her way of 
reassuring herself that all was well between us once again, even 
though this conflict was one that seemed to be entirely contained 
within her mind.  I wanted to talk to her about it, but I didn't 
have to start the discussion.

      "Daddy...it's bad for you to fuck me, isn't it?"  This being 
the second time I'd ever heard her swear, my eyebrows raised in 
surprise, not just for that reason, but also because of the question.

      "There are several laws against it, honey."

      "Because of my age...right?"

      "That...and because I'm your father.  It's called incest."

      "Oh..." she said, mulling that over.  "Why is insext bad?"

      "Incest, honey.  It's..." You know, I had never actually 
considered that question, and I had never imagined my preteen 
daughter would be the one to make me answer it.  "I guess it's 
because children will usually do what their parents tell them to 
do, so it wouldn't be done because the child wants to do it."

      "But...I want to...but I don't want to make you bad."  There 
we had it.  She was feeling guilty about asking me to break the 
law...never mind that we'd already somewhat crossed that line when 
I felt her up earlier.

      "You aren't making me bad," I told her, getting her to look 
up at me.  "Sex is something that two people have to agree to do.  
You want to have sex with me, and I..." I could see she was hanging 
on my words.  "...I want to have sex with you, Trisha."

      "Really?!" she asked excitedly, sitting up, nearly jumping 
into my lap.  "So it's okay?!  We can do it?!"  While I was 
encouraged by her enthusiasm, I felt like maybe she was getting way 
ahead of herself.

      "You have to understand something first, honey," I told her, 
tempering her excitement.  "If we did have sex, I could be in big 
trouble if anybody were to ever find out.  Just because you want 
it, and I want it, doesn't mean it isn't illegal."

      "But it's okay right?  I want it, so it's not rape and it's 
okay, right?" she asked, a little desperate to hang onto my 
consenting tone.

      "It's okay, Trisha.  You just can't tell anybody that we do 
it."

      "Even Daisy?"  I had to smile.

      "Honey, I think Daisy already knows what both of us want to 
do."  She looked at me with a question forming in her head, but her 
eyes widened as soon as she answered it for herself.

      "D-Daisy told you?!" she asked with a voice equal parts 
horrified and shocked.  Before I could come clean with her on 
Daisy's involvement in this whole situation, Trisha got the full 
meaning of my words, and had to ask, "How does Daisy know that you 
want to have sex with me?"

      "Well...Daisy and I, since the night that she came over to 
stay with you...we've been...sharing a lot of things."  While I 
certainly knew Trisha was smart enough to figure out exactly what 
that meant, I wasn't sure how she might take the news that her 
father was screwing her new friend, role model, and mentor.

      "Did you have sex with her, Daddy?"  The question was point 
blank and I could tell she seemed to know already, but was just 
seeking confirmation.

      "Yes."  Trisha was silent a moment, as though she was 
integrating that into her picture of the last week.

      "On my bed?"  I had been wondering if that whole scene had 
remained within her sleep and orgasm groggy brain from that night, 
and it seemed that some part of it had.

      "Yes, honey."

      "A-and...she was...she was calling you 'Daddy'..."  That 
wasn't so much a question from her as it was a memory, one that I 
could tell had been something of a puzzle to her.  "I woke up on 
your bed...Daisy and I had been talking about stuff and I guess I 
fell asleep there.  I could hear noises from my room, so I got up, 
and went there...I saw you on top of her, moving...my fanny 
got...it really tickled and I pushed my panties down and I...I 
think I played with myself while I watched you..."  I could only 
nod in agreement with her view of events that night.  "That 
all...it all really happened, didn't it?"

      "Yeah, it did."

      "Wow...I thought it was a dream.  I told Daisy about it, and 
she just laughed and said I was in need of a good fuck...sorry, 
Daddy, I keep saying that bad word."  For all her remorse about 
using that word in front of me, she didn't sound too hesitant when 
she did use it.

      "Trisha, that word...it's okay to say when you're telling me 
about when somebody else said it, or if you're trying to turn me 
on, but I don't think it really suits you.  You're not that kind of 
girl."  She cocked her head, as though she was trying to understand 
what that meant fully, so I decided to clarify.  "It's not 
necessarily a bad word, so much as it is an adult word, and should 
be used in more appropriate adult situations."

      "You mean, like if we were...fucking?"  I had to chuckle at 
her feeling out the somewhat complicated context of the word that I 
had just presented to her.

      "Yeah, something like that, but what I'm getting at, is that 
for us, you and me, I don't think it really applies for the way I 
feel about you.  Fuck is kind of a rough word, don't you think?"  
She grinned and nodded a little embarrassed.  "I love you, 
sweetheart, and I don't want to fuck you.  I would prefer to make 
love to you...understand?"  That seemed to set off a blush colored 
light bulb in her head as she got my meaning.

      "I...I think I understand Daddy.  S-so, can we m-make love 
now?"  I was certainly up for it, and I could tell she was up for 
it, but still, I felt like I needed to give her one more hurdle to 
overcome before things went too far.

      "What you're asking me to do with you, is something very 
special, and it will be the first time you ever do this.  You're a 
virgin still, Trisha, despite everything that has happened in the 
last week and the last few days in particular.  Opening up your 
body to me, or to any other person for the first time is a big 
deal, and I think you knew that an hour ago, didn't you?  The way 
you covered yourself with your hand when I pulled your panties 
down...it wasn't just so you could rub yourself, was it?"  She 
nodded, her eyes downcast.

      "I...I was kinda scared for you to see it."

      "And if I pulled your clothes off now, you'd probably cover 
yourself again, right?"

      "W-well...b-but if we were going to make love, I-I'd have to 
let you see and..."

      "Trisha, I don't want you to HAVE to do anything for me just 
so I can put my penis inside you.  I want you to do it because YOU 
WANT my, or any penis inside you, especially for the first time in 
your life.  There are a lot of grown-up women who rushed into this 
when they were young like you, and when they get older and get 
married to that somebody special in their life, they sometimes 
regret it, and wish they could have had that moment with their 
special person instead.  Understand?"  I know my hard dick sure 
didn't understand, and I could tell it was none too happy with me 
fulfilling my duty to raise Trisha to think of her own best 
interests first.

      "S-so...w-what should I do?" she asked, turning her eyes to 
mine, looking for some kind of sage advice or guidance in them.

      "I can't make this big of a decision for you, but I think 
that for now, you should think about what I've said.  I'll be going 
to bed in a few hours myself, and if you decide that you really 
want me to make love to you, then come to my room.  Otherwise, I 
wish you sweet dreams and I'll see you in the morning."  I kissed 
her on the forehead and smiled at that shy little grin she'd given 
me a week ago when she'd noticed my erection in bed that first night.

      "Okay, Daddy," she said, and sat up to peck me on the cheek.  
She leapt up from the couch and sprinted to the hall, wiggling that 
cute little butt of hers.  Just before she disappeared from view, 
she stopped and turned around.  "Daddy...thanks for talking to me.  
I think...I think I really feel better now about...you 
know...everything."

      "You're welcome, sweetheart.  I feel better now too."  The 
way she smiled, like the bond between us, which in truth had always 
been a little shaky and strained since we were practically 
strangers only two years earlier, had been deepened and 
strengthened just now.  She knew I wouldn't force her, and put all 
the power in her hands like it should be for a big decision like 
this.

      I tried to turn my attention back to whatever it was I had 
been doing when she came out to sit with me...honestly I couldn't 
even remember what it was, nor did I really care.  Making love to 
Trisha was all I could think about.  The next ninety minutes were 
spent only half interested in anything else before I gave up and 
went to my bedroom, doing my best to make noise in the hall so that 
she knew I would soon be ready for her.  I undressed and slid under 
the covers.  Five minutes passed.  Then ten.  Twenty.  Thirty.  An 
hour.

      Trisha didn't come to my bed that night, that week, that 
month, or that year.





      Chapter 12

      Daisy grinned at me as her hand slipped under the waistband 
of my boxers and her fingers wrapped around my shaft.  "Still 
getting hard for me?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

      "You have to ask?  You're holding on to it, aren't you?"

      "Yeah, well," she began, as she swung her leg over mine to 
straddle me, "I was afraid you thought I was getting fat."

      "Fat?" I puzzled at her, as I placed my hands on her hips and 
slid them up under her shirt and onto her swollen breasts.  "No, 
not fat...but sometimes I do think you weigh as much as two 
people."  She laughed.

      "It's one-and-a-half at most," she said, hitting my chest 
playfully, and then rubbing her hands over her growing belly.  "I 
do miss you being on top though.  I thought pregnant women weren't 
supposed to exert themselves?"

      "Hey, you're the one who said it felt better like this," I 
responded.

      "Yeah, well, when this little gal pops out, you owe me, like, 
three months of hard pounding."

      "You mean, little 'guy,'" I corrected her.  We had decided 
not to find out the sex, but Daisy was sure it was a girl, and I 
was going to insist otherwise up until the moment of truth.  Her 
sex drive sure had shot up once she became pregnant, and I felt 
positive there was a little extra testosterone in her system 
causing that...not that it had ever been low before.

      "Whatever," she said, reaching between her still nicely sized 
thighs to push her low-cut panties aside and press her moist lips 
upon my cockhead.  "Either way, you'll be the one doing the work 
for a while."  She rocked her hips forward, and I slid inside.  I 
didn't know what people were talking about when they said marriage 
takes all the sex out of a relationship.  Once or twice a day was 
pretty fantastic.

      "Already?" asked a sweetly accented voice from my doorway.  
Daisy looked over her shoulder and I looked around her body to see 
Trisha standing there with her arms crossed and a grin on her 
face.  "It's not even 10 p.m." she pointed out.

      "I married it.  I can sit on it when I like," Daisy told her 
13-year old step-daughter.  As you might have guessed, Daisy 
marrying into the family hadn't changed much, and this was far from 
the first time Trisha had watched us.  Trisha strolled into the 
room and plopped down on the bed where Daisy had lain just moments 
before.  I could see her eyes staying fixed on where my cock 
disappeared up her stepmother while she slipped her hand under her 
little skirt to play with herself.

      Despite our history together, our new little family's sex 
life rarely involved all three of us at once.  Generally Daisy 
would come to one of us, flirt a bit, and then that lucky person 
would go off with her and sexy times would ensue.  For the one of 
us that was left out, we'd take this as our queue to head to our 
bedroom and wait.  Eventually Daisy would appear, pussy wet from 
either her own orgasms or the addition of my own, and that night's 
runner-up would finally get lucky.  Trisha and I rarely watched the 
other with Daisy, and on those rare occasions where all three of us 
were on the bed together, I never touched Trisha, and she never 
laid a hand on me.

      Despite this compartmentalizing, through our shared 
experiences with Daisy we'd become familiar with each other as 
well.  When Daisy would come to me last, I could put money on the 
fact that I'd soon be tasting my daughter on her mouth and feeling 
her saliva on my shaft as I penetrated my teenage wife.  As for 
Trisha, well, I'd never witnessed it personally, but the likelihood 
that she'd fingered or licked my cum out of Daisy was pretty high.  
I'd asked Daisy once what went on in my daughter's bedroom, but 
only got a naughty grin and the cryptic answer of "girl stuff" in 
return.  

      At the very least, I was sure they were safe about it and 
never let any accidental fertilizing take place, well, other than 
the one that had already occurred in Daisy's womb.  Trisha's 
periods had begun just after her 12th birthday, and Daisy seemed to 
delight in making a big deal of the event and embarrassing Trisha 
every chance she got.  Somewhere, hidden away on my computer was a 
picture of a beet-red Trisha wearing a party hat constructed out of 
pads and tampons.  No doubt I'd need that some day for blackmail 
and embarrassment purposes.

      "Daddy, can I talk to you about something?"  I looked at her 
and chuckled at the situation.

      "You picked a hell of a time to do it," I told her.

      "Well sorry, but I didn't think you guys would be doing it 
already," she said with a sort of gasping giggle.

      "Go ahead then.  Just don't expect my full attention," I said 
while teasing one of Daisy's nipples.  She retaliated with squeeze 
from her PC muscle, eliciting a groan from me.

      "Okay...there, um...there's a boy..."  I don't think anything 
had ever caused Daisy and I to pause mid-sex quite the way those 
words had.

      "A boy?" asked Daisy.  "You mean a human being with a penis 
who isn't your father?"

      "Y-yeah..." Trisha said shyly.  It was no secret that I was 
still masturbation material for my daughter.  Any time I happened 
to be exposed around the house, my cock was a magnet for Trisha's 
eyes.  "He's really cute and a nice guy, and I heard he's," she 
paused a moment, as though she was embarrassed to say what came 
next, "really good at...it."

      "It?" Daisy and I asked in unison, though we both had a 
pretty good idea what 'it' was.

      "Yeah...it."

      "Kissing?  Making out?" I offered a few softball options for 
Trisha to cling to, and perhaps even in my own hopes that she 
wasn't seriously considering what I suspected she might be.

      "Fucking?" Daisy was much less considerate of my daughter's 
feelings.

      "Yeah, that," Trisha said with a smile and a little gasp as 
her masturbation started to pay off.

      "Sweetheart, how old is this boy?" I asked.  All things 
considered, he should be about her age, and at that age, how the 
hell do boys get that kind of rep?

      "I-I don't really know, but he's a grade higher than me," she 
replied.

      "So 14 then?"

      "Y-yeah, sure."  Her voice caught a little, and I could tell 
by the angle of her wrist that she was penetrating herself.  Daisy 
had begun to slowly rock on top of me, her eyes just as interested 
as my own in Trisha's wrist.

      "And you just 'heard,' that this boy, who is only a little 
older than you, was good at sex?"

      "Girls talk too, you know," Daisy piped in, grinding on me 
and biting her lip as I felt the tip of my cock brush her swollen 
cervix.

      "I...unnh...I know, but at 13?" I responded.  It's not that I 
didn't believe them, considering all that I had experienced, but it 
was still a bit hard to fathom that other barely teenage girls out 
there were trading information on which boy was good at sex in 
middle school.

      "I was 13," Daisy pointed out.  "Krista was 12 her first 
time," she revealed about her now 15-year old sister.

      "Yeaaaah, but you and your sister didn't exactly lose your 
innocence like normal people," I countered.  Daisy just shrugged 
with a smile.

      "At least we lost it to somebody that we loved," she 
answered, and then looked at Trisha.  "Is that what you're here to 
ask your dad about?" she asked.  I got the feeling that Daisy knew 
a bit more about this situation than she was letting on.

      "What's this about, you guys?" I asked, looking from one to 
the other.

      "Daddy, do you remember when I...when we almost...here on 
your bed, I laid down and asked you to have sex with me?" she 
asked, referencing that night just over two years past that felt 
like a lifetime ago.

      "Yes, I remember," I told her.  "I also remember telling 
you..." and then I realized why she was here on my bed.  "You're 
sure?"

      "Daddy, will you be my first?"  I heard a sniff and looked at 
my pregnant wife, who was wiping a tear from her cheek.  She was 
also rocking her hips.

      "Daisy, did you and Trisha talk about this already?" I asked 
her, knowing that they probably had.

      "She asked me first if it was okay.  Remember what I told you 
then, Trish?"  I looked to Trisha, who's face reddened.

      "She told me that I came out of you before she ever came on 
top of you, so...Daddy, please?"  Trisha scooted up on the bed and 
lay by my side, frigging herself as she looked up at me adoringly.  
Daisy took my hand that was nearest to Trisha, removed it from her 
breast and placed it on my daughter's thigh.  Trisha then took this 
offered hand of mine, and without even asking me, guided it under 
her skirt and between her legs.  With a finger inside my daughter, 
I came inside my wife.





      Chapter 13

      The odor of dinner met my nose as soon as I pulled into the 
garage.  Daisy and Trisha had worked together since the wedding to 
both learn as many new recipes as they could, so it was always a 
surprise just what I was coming home to.  This time however, I knew 
that only Trisha was going to be in that kitchen waiting for me, no 
doubt as nervously as she had been over a year prior when she and I 
sat down to meatloaf and were interrupted by a phone call.  Daisy, 
though an integral part of bringing us to where we were tonight, 
was spending the night with her siblings, giving me and Trisha the 
night alone.  By the time my hand was placed on the doorknob, I had 
deduced that chicken was on the menu.  

      "Welcome home, Daddy!" called Trisha, upon hearing me open 
the door.  She popped up from behind the countertop, a lightly 
stained apron covering her body.  A shy smile and blush crossed her 
face almost immediately, giving away that her mind wasn't just on 
dinner.

      "Smells delish, Trish," I rhymed, eliciting a groan from her.

      "That sounds so dumb, Daddy," she said a bit grumpily, and 
turned her back to me to wash her hands.  "What's your guess?" she 
asked.

      "Chicken, I can tell you that much," I said, eying the 
kitchen for clues.  On the stovetop was a dish with peas and 
carrots bubbling away, and a bottle of white wine.  I sniffed the 
aroma in the air again.  "But there's something else with it, isn't 
there?"

      "You're right, there is," she said, looking over her shoulder 
and smiling at me.  The timer on the counter went off, and she 
grabbed her hot pads, pulling the mystery chicken dish out from the 
oven.  I took my seat at the table, which was already set, though 
not in any kind of special or elaborate arrangement for the special 
circumstances of the day.  Trisha approached, proudly carrying her 
creation, which I could then tell also had cheese and some sort of 
bread component from the sudden scent of toast.  "Chicken cordon 
blue," she stated, not quite getting the pronouncement of 'bleu' 
correct, but looking every bit like she had mastered the dish as 
she placed it upon the table before me.

      "Tr鳠magnifique," I stated, making her laugh.  She took 
off her apron, and hung it up as she brought over the veggies and 
the bottle of wine.  She wasn't wearing anything particularly 
elaborate, just like the table setting, no hint of this being 
anything but an ordinary dinner between father and daughter on any 
other night of the week.  That being true, there was still a bit of 
sexual tension that I'm sure both of us felt but neither wanted to 
address.

      We chatted as we ate; Trisha being particularly enthused 
about possibly joining the high school soccer team in a few years.  
Daisy's sister, though in the same grade as Trisha, was actually 
two years older, due to being a very small girl when she was young 
so she was held out for an extra year before kindergarten, and 
having to repeat a grade following the trauma of her parents' 
untimely deaths.  Because of this, and her sterling grades of late, 
she was granted a special exemption to join the high school girls' 
team as a seventh grader.

      As she spoke, I could see Trisha was eyeing my wine glass.  
"Want some?" I asked her.

      "Can I?" she asked, a little surprised.  Both Daisy and I 
would sometimes give her sips, but stopped short of letting her 
have a full glass, which was funny since Daisy herself was still 
under the legal drinking age of 21 (not that she continued drinking 
after finding out she was pregnant, mind you).

      "Get a glass," I told her with a nod towards the cabinet.  
She spryly jumped up and went to retrieve her own wine glass, which 
afforded me the opportunity to admire her barely teenaged backside 
in the blue jeans she was wearing as she strained to reach the 
shelf that was just within her reach.  She flounced back to the 
table and presented it to me for filling.  I gave her about a 
quarter of the glass and she frowned.

      "Is that all?" she asked.

      "Trish, honey, you're 13, and to the best of my knowledge 
you've never had a whole lot to drink before.  We'll take this 
slowly, so as not to cause problems that might impact the rest of 
our evening."  It was the first reference either of us had made to 
the scheduled loss of her virginity, and it caused her to blush 
furiously.

      "O-okay," she relented, and sipped at her apportionment of 
wine, making a face.  "It's sour," she remarked, before sipping 
again and again.  It wasn't long before she had emptied her glass 
and held it out for more.

      "Eat your dinner," I lightly scolded her, wanting to make 
sure she had something other than alcohol to digest.  She made an 
exaggerated expression of displeasure with me, but then broke into 
some giggles.  Her eyes were just getting a little glassy and I 
knew that I probably shouldn't give her much more than I had given 
her before.  She cleared her plate as told, and I rewarded her with 
another quarter of a glass before corking the bottle.

      "Awww," she whined.  "You got to have two glasses, and I only 
got this much," she pointed at the mid point of her glass, her head 
swaying just a little.

      "That's right, and I think you can tell why I've cut you 
off," I said, hoping I hadn't made a big mistake in letting her 
drink.  Even though Trisha had hit a growth spurt in the last year, 
she was still a bit on the small size for her age, and it 
apparently didn't take much to make her loopy.  At the very least 
if tonight ended up a bust and she had a tiny hangover tomorrow, 
she'd learn a lesson or two about drinking.

      She downed the second serving of wine, and stood to take her 
plate to the sink and practically spun in a circle when she turned 
towards the kitchen.  She stumbled a bit to the right and I moved 
to catch her arm and steady her.  "Whoa there," I told her, getting 
to my feet and putting my hand on her shoulder.  "I think you'd 
better have a seat and let me clean up."

      "But Daddddy, we always do the dishes togeeether," she whined 
a little childishly, showing just what kind of a drunk she was: a 
petulant one.

      "Not this time," I told her, steering her towards the couch.  
"Here, sit.  Take a nap if you want to."

      "Are we still gonna do it later?" she asked, a little bluntly 
as she plopped down on the couch.  "I've been thinking about it 
allll day," she told me with a silly expression that reminded me a 
little of Daisy's sultriness.

      "Yes, later.  But now you sit, and if you feel like you're 
going to puke, try to make it to the bathroom first," I told her, 
returning to clear the table.

      "Okay," she audibly pouted, and turned on the TV to start 
flipping channels.  I sighed again, hoping I hadn't made a mess of 
things.  By the time I came back to the living room, she was laying 
down on the couch.

      "Feeling okay?" I asked approaching her.

      "Yeah," she answered in a monotone.  She propped herself up 
with her arm, making room for me to sit down, and when I did, she 
laid her head down on my lap and continued to watch TV.

      "Tired?"

      "Kinda.  I feel all wobbly and stuff," she said, and followed 
it up with a yawn.  "We really gonna do it later?"  This was the 
second time she'd asked me that, and I wondered if maybe she was 
having second thoughts.

      "If you still want to, yes," I answered, putting my hand on 
her head and stroking her hair slowly.  "Are you worried about it?"

      "I don't know...kind of...yeah, I guess," she admitted.  "I 
get all scared feeling in my tummy when I think about it...like if 
maybe I'm too small down there or if I'll do it wrong, and then we 
can't..."

      "Can't what?"

      "I don't know...just...that it won't be right.  I guess I'm 
being dumb," she said finally.

      "No, you're not, Trisha," I assured her.  "This is a big 
thing for you, so of course you're going to worry like this.  
You're not dumb at all."  It had been almost two weeks since that 
night she laid down on the bed with Daisy and I and made her 
request.  The only reason we'd waited at all (besides the fact that 
I shot my load inside Daisy about 5 minutes later) was that Trisha 
insisted that it be done without protection so that she could get 
the full deflowering experience, and so with some guidance from 
Daisy, they picked a day where the chances of her getting pregnant 
would be at the lowest.

      I'd been able to tell at various times since that night that 
she was thinking about it.  She'd space out at dinner, or I'd catch 
her gaze and she'd look away from me or withdraw a little.  She 
became a frequent visitor to my bedroom and would watch me and 
Daisy make love, almost like she was studying in preparation for a 
test.  I guessed that maybe she was trying to psyche herself up, 
reassure herself that she would be able to do this.  I suppose I 
hadn't really thought about it until now, but she must have been 
feeling really stressed out over everything.

      "I love you, Daddy," she murmured.

      "I love you too, Trisha," I told her, and she drifted into 
sleep.

      ***

      There was only one problem with Trisha using my lap as a 
pillow: I was unable to lean forward and get my hands on the remote 
so I wouldn't have to watch whatever this stupid channel was that 
she had turned on.  Gone were the days that she would turn on one 
of those silly tween comedies, and now I was stuck watching 
mind-numbing "reality" show after show.

      I looked down at my sleeping daughter's face and with a pang 
of sadness realized that she wasn't a little girl anymore.  
Granted, I never had much time with her when she was little since I 
only met her when she was a few months shy of her ninth birthday 
and we both had ourselves an adjustment period where we had gotten 
used to each other's presence, but the feeling of that first time 
she sat close to me and lay her head against my shoulder here on 
this couch was one of my first cherished memories with her.  She 
could have sat on my lap comfortably back then, but not so much now 
with that teen butt she's been developing.  It occurred to me that 
I've never touched her there, among other places, not even in 
doling out punishment; I just wasn't the type of parent to spank.

      My eyes swept down over her body.  Her legs had gotten so 
long and weren't the skinny sticks that they used to be.  Her hips 
had expanded bit by bit over the last few years, not quite giving 
her a knockout hourglass figure, but she wasn't straight as a rail 
any longer.  Her breasts were now an appropriately proportioned 
B-cup and never failed to draw my eye when she would go about the 
house without a shirt on early in the morning.  Even her face was 
maturing, and just as I observed when she was younger, she had her 
mother's eyes and mouth, and the resemblance seemed to grow more 
every year.  As I looked at her lips, my train of thought brought 
about a rather stunning realization.

      One of the indelible memories of that night with her mother 
was how she smiled when she got on her knees in front of me, licked 
her lips, and then looked up at me as her mouth surrounded my hard 
cock.  It was a great blow job, the way her tongue swept over and 
under the head, seeking out the places that made me gasp or groan 
and then focused on those areas.  It was almost too good, as twice 
she pulled away when I warned her how close I was getting.  It was 
after that second time that she suggested I not hold back any 
longer, and then stood up and pulled down her panties.

      I had fucked her from behind, bent over the foot of her bed.  
I remember feeling her fingertips as she worked on her clit, 
begging me to not cum quickly so that she could catch up.  I tried 
my best, but the sensation of her wet and welcoming insides had me 
cumming first.  I remembered too that her vagina wasn't 
particularly deep and that I had to temper my thrusting so as not 
to painfully hit her cervix, which I ended up doing anyways during 
my orgasm.

      That was my moment of revelation.  I actually remembered the 
specific sex act that conceived Trisha.  I'd had eight sex partners 
in my life, starting with my third high school girlfriend when I 
was 17.  Of course I'd remember my first time, what boy wouldn't, 
but aside from a few other milestone sexual encounters, it was 
difficult to recall every orgasm I'd ever had with somebody.  That 
night, in a foreign country, where I had never expected to get that 
lucky when I walked into that pub, was most certainly a memorable 
sexual experience, even before I became aware of the consequences.  
I certainly couldn't tell you about the orgasm that got Daisy 
pregnant, aside from maybe the one I had that first night she'd 
gone off of her pill, and we knew from the timing of learning she 
was pregnant that it didn't happen that night.

      So, not only did I recall that act of intercourse, but as I 
just related, the oral sex just prior to it that nearly pushed me 
over the edge twice would have erased Trisha's existence if Kat 
hadn't been in the mood to take things further with the strange 
young man who's awful jokes she'd laughed at.  Dissolving in her 
own mother's stomach seemed an awful fate for this sleeping beauty 
on my lap.  Another small detail of that night occurred to me years 
ago when I got the phone call that brought Trisha into my life.  

      After that first instance of sex, Kat and I shared a bed for 
a few hours of afterglow induced sleep.  When her alarm clock went 
off at the rather annoying time of 5am, we both found ourselves in 
the mood again, and did it in missionary.  When I had announced my 
impending climax she rather frantically told me to pull out, and I 
did, shooting it on her stomach.  Maybe I should have asked then if 
she was on the pill as I had just assumed earlier when she didn't 
produce a condom for me to wear, but she didn't seem to be upset 
about the deposit I had left earlier, so when we parted ways the 
possibility of a pregnancy was not something I thought of again.  
All my memories of Kat McClaren were good ones.

      The weight on my thigh lightened, and Trisha's groggy face 
rose up, looked around as though she were lost, and then sat 
upright next to me.  "I fell asleep," she said, though I couldn't 
quite tell if it was a statement or a question.

      "Yes you did," I told her, and she leaned against me with her 
head on my shoulder.  "Do you feel better?"

      "I guess," she said noncommittally.  "I need to pee," she 
stated and rose on her unsteady feet.  I stood as well, poised to 
catch her if she were too off kilter, but she felt out her balance 
with small steps, and by the time she hit the hall she was moving 
pretty good.  Relaxing, I sat down and took this opportunity to 
finally change the TV channel.  Shortly, following the roar of the 
toilet flush, Trisha returned to me, plopping down beside me on the 
couch.  "Daddy?"

      "Yes?"

      "I'm a little scared," she said as she cuddled up beside me.

      "Of sex?"

      "Yeah."

      "With me, or in general?"

      "In general."

      "Like what specifically?  Having a dick inside you?  Chance 
of getting pregnant?"

      "I don't know," she whined cutely as she buried her face in 
my chest.  "It just...it feels like it's a really big deal.  I keep 
thinking about what you said when I was younger and wanted to do 
it.  I thought about it, and you know, I was too scared back then 
for you to even see my pussy all spread open like you would need 
to, so I kind of knew I shouldn't do it then.  Now though, you 
know, I watch you and Daisy do it, and sometimes you watch me and 
her messing around, so I know you've seen it, and then when I asked 
you for my first time two weeks ago, I made you finger me, and it 
felt nice, so it made me sure that I was ready, but now we're gonna 
do it tonight and...I get scared feeling that I might be wrong."

      "Do you think, sweetheart, that maybe you're just thinking 
about it too much?"

      "Maybe.  I dunno."

      "Tell me, honey," I started, shifting my body just a bit to 
be a bit more comfortable, and Trisha cuddled closer, practically 
sitting on top of me.  "When you watch me and Daisy, does it seem 
like a big deal?"

      "I-isn't it one?  You guys are married and--"

      "But you know people don't need to be married to do this, 
right?  You wouldn't exist if only married people did this."

      "Right...you were a one-night stand with Mum."

      "Well, one night and again in the morning."

      "Eww...Dad, I don't wanna know that."

      "Sorry, but you see my point?  Sex isn't always a big deal.  
Sometimes it's just about feeling good with somebody you like, or 
something you do when you're drunk on a business trip on the other 
side of the world.  It's a big step when you decide that you're 
ready for sex, because of all the responsibilities you might gain 
from it, but as long as you can manage those responsibilities, you 
should just have fun with it and not worry so much.  People have 
been having sex for millions of years, pretty much all of them 
without horny teenage stepmoms around to eat them out every other 
night, so I think you are probably far more ready now than some of 
them ever were."  I had her giggling at the end.

      "Thanks, Daddy.  I love you."  She scooted herself up on top 
of me, straddling me, and kissed me on the lips.  She sat up 
straight, and pulled her shirt off over her head, her breasts, the 
size of small apples, nestled in her bra.

      "I'm thinking you're not scared anymore, are you?"  She just 
smiled and reached around behind her back and unhooked herself, the 
cups and straps going slack, and the whole deal sliding off her arms.

      "I'm not scared, Daddy.  I'll never be scared with you."





      Chapter 14

      I pulled off my underwear, my cock was starting to droop from 
its initial excitement with Trisha's cute little tits in my face.  
After she showed me how Daisy had taught her how to kiss, she 
announced that she had an idea and I should go to my bedroom, 
undress, and get into bed.  That was 10 minutes ago, and as ready 
to go as I was, my erection had decided that it was going to take a 
small break as I slipped beneath the sheets.

      I could hear her in her room, looking for something, looking 
through her dresser drawers for something.  I wondered what she was 
up to.  Was she going to dress up for me?  Had Daisy helped her set 
something up?  Was that music I heard now?  No, it stopped...there 
it was again.  A few more minutes went by, as music continued to 
play and then stop, then played again, then stopped.  "Trisha, 
what's going on?" I called out to her.

      "Keep waiting, Daddy!" she yelled back.  "I'm getting 
something ready!"  I sighed, and looked around my bedroom, trying 
to figure out some way to pass the time.  I tell you, nothing is 
more boring than going from your own daughter sitting on your lap 
with her shirt off to sitting alone and naked in bed and being told 
to wait.  I eventually settled on just playing with myself, so at 
least I'd be ready when she was.  After about a minute of just lazy 
stroking, I heard her out in the hall...but she was going the wrong 
way.  A door opened...no, a cupboard?  The hall closet perhaps?  
"Oh, there it is," I heard her say, and then her footsteps hurried 
back to her room.  Some noises, like something was being moved, 
then a loud clunk closer to the hall.

      "Trisha, are you okay?"

      "Yes, Daddy!  Wait please!" she called back, her voice now 
just down the hall from her bedroom doorway.  Her footsteps padded 
close to my doorway, and I saw her shadow just outside.  She set 
something down on the floor against the wall just outside my room, 
then I heard a firm click followed by a hiss that suddenly got 
louder, and then...rain?  The sound of heavy rain, then rolling 
thunder, followed by more rain and then...a bass guitar and cymbals 
being tapped?  Another click put an abrupt stop to the sound, and 
just as I figured out it was a cassette tape I was hearing, Trisha 
came running into my room, wearing a large t-shirt, presumably 
naked from the waist down, hair tied up in short unbraided 
pigtails, similar to the braids she used to put her hair up in when 
she slept when her hair was longer.  She dove onto the bed beside 
me, and buried her face in my chest, her naked rump in the air.  I 
realized with a laugh what was going on and which moment from our 
past she was recreating.

      "D-did you hear the thunder, Daddy?" she tried to ask me, 
doing her best to sound scared, but she too was laughing by then.  
She tried to then ask if she could sleep with me, but the giggles 
overtook her.  I couldn't help myself and sat up, and gave her a 
playful smack on her wiggling bottom.  "Ow!"

      "You little goofball," I teased her.

      "I'm not little, Daddy!" she said, pushing herself up on her 
arms.  "I've got boobies, see!"  She pulled at the neck of her 
shirt, and showed me those breasts in much the same way I first saw 
them when she was 11.

      "I have," I told her, "they're lovely."  She giggled, and 
straightened up on her knees.  The shirt she wore was that most 
infuriating of lengths where it was always on the verge of showing 
you what you wanted to see, but never quite did.  Fortunately for 
me, Trisha was in a sharing mood.

      "And look here too, Daddy," she said, lifting the shirt up.  
Now this did surprise me.  "I have hair on my fanny!" she said, 
pointing to a spot on her hairless mound.

      "You did two weeks ago, but you certainly don't now," I told 
her, staring at her bald sex.  "Besides, you didn't have a single 
hair on you down there the first time you showed it to me either."  
Now it was her turn to be shocked.

      "How do you know that?!  You didn't even want to see it 
then!  You told me I was being naughty!"  Despite her seeming 
outrage at my confession, she had taken hold of my hand and brought 
it to her slit.  She was indeed smooth as a preteen.

      "A few nights later," I told her, as I stroked her lips, 
feeling her getting wet, "when Daisy came over, and I had sex with 
her for the first time, you weren't exactly dressed yourself when 
you found us.  Who do you think put your panties on you before 
tucking you into bed?"

      "Oh my gosh, Daddy, you naughty perv!" she laughed before she 
moaned from my well-timed rub of her clit.  "I bet you jerked off 
thinking about it too," she correctly accused me.

      "Actually, I did," I answered her, shocking her again.  "That 
stormy night, remember?"  She looked at me confused.

      "But...that was before..."

      "No, sweetie, that was after you told me that little lie 
about your hair down there.  I snatched up those little panties you 
had been wearing and..."  I pressed my finger into her sticky 
wetness and teased her warm opening with my finger tip.

      "Oh my gosh, Daddy, oh my gosh!" she squealed, rocking her 
hips into my hand, my finger entering her tight wet heaven.  "I 
always thought that was precum you got on me, but it was really 
after you did it?"

      "That's right," I confirmed, pushing my digit deeper, feeling 
her flex her young pussy on it.  "That was the leftovers from me 
thinking about your bald little fanny."  I pushed my finger in, and 
at the same time Trisha pressed down, and to both our surprise the 
full length of my middle finger had sunk inside of her.

      "Mnn, Daddy!" she groaned.  "I...I played with myself after I 
went back to bed, and I," she twisted her body from side to side, 
groaning as her lips and clit rubbed on my palm, "I rubbed your cum 
on my pussy!"  She humped my hand as she realized what an illicit 
thing she'd done over a year ago, never mind that she always knew 
where that wetness I had left on her body came from, she just 
hadn't really known that it was more potently sperm filled fluids.

      I took her hand in mine, and placed it on the cock supported 
tent in the sheet I had over my body.  "How'd you like it if I 
rubbed some more of it on you?"

      "Mhnn!" she nodded, and squeezed the head of my cock within 
the sheet.  "Oh!" she gasped, and I both saw and felt her body 
tense as she orgasmed.  I felt warmth on my palm, and saw it 
dripping with what I had always heard about from Daisy, but never 
saw for myself.  Trisha was a squirter.  I had just always assumed 
that those "spilled glasses of water" that Trisha had claimed made 
her wash her sheets were just little, but still embarrassing, wet 
spots from when she would masturbate, but no, she was probably 
doing this all along.  She looked at me with a sheepish smile, but 
there was no embarrassment.  For Trisha, this was just how her body 
reacted.  

      She relaxed her grip on my cockhead, and pulled the sheet 
away to uncover it.  She looked at it like a kid with a fist full 
of cash might look at all the cakes in the display case at a 
bakery.  "Are you ready for it?" I asked her, withdrawing my 
finger, but continuing to rub her.

      "Yeah.  I think so," she nodded, and lay down on the bed 
beside me.  "You on top," she requested.  "That's how I always 
imagined it with you."

      "Alright," I sat up and moved over as she spread her legs and 
looked up at me.  For a moment she wasn't just a beautiful young 
teenager who was about to lose her virginity.  She was also that 
scared young girl I met nearly 5 years earlier who had just lost 
her mother and was meeting her father for the first time, but was 
trying to put on a brave face.  She was the embarrassed little girl 
who wet her bed 5 times in her first month living with me.  She was 
that same little girl who barged her way into my bed the first time 
a thunderstorm crashed outside.  She was the proud student who 
showed me her first (and so far only) straight-A report card.  She 
was the mischievous budding bundle of hormones that pulled up her 
night shirt to expose herself to me before groping my penis.  She 
was that embarrassed girl who showed me her first bra days later, 
and made a request of me that she herself wasn't really sure of at 
the time.  She was that lustful girl that watched and touched 
herself as I attempted to impregnate her step-mother on our 
honeymoon.  Finally she was the confident young teen who lay down 
beside me two weeks ago and guided my hand to her wet sex for the 
first time.

      "D-Daddy?" she questioned, making me realize that I had been 
staring silently at her.  "What's wrong?"

      "Nothing's wrong, sweetheart," I said, waddling forward on my 
knees and putting my hand around my cock to guide it.  "I was 
just...just thinking about how I've watched you grow up."  
Something wet ran down my cheek.

      "Oh...Daddy," Trish cooed at me sympathetically with emotion 
creeping into her voice.  She sat up and reached her arms out to me 
for an embrace, which I accepted readily.  "You're not supposed to 
cry when you're going to have sex with me, Daddy," she jokingly 
admonished through some tears of her own.

      "You shouldn't either.  I'll wonder if I'm hurting you," I 
answered, rubbing her bare back as she pressed against me, her 
small breasts rubbing against my chest, and my erection poking her 
belly.

      "You'd never hurt me, Daddy.  I love you so much.  Ever since 
the first time I touched myself, I knew my first time, doing it for 
real, would be with you."  One of her arms slid down my back, and 
reached between us to wrap her hand around my shaft.  "I'm ready 
for you, Daddy.  Please, have my virginity."

      Trisha began to recline back onto the bed, and I moved with 
her, my adult body on top of her smaller early teenage frame.  As 
though we had rehearsed it, we shifted against each other almost 
perfectly, and I felt the soft wet valley of her bald sex against 
the head of my cock.  Her hand found it, and pulled, placing the 
tip just within her warmth.  In the moment before I pushed inside, 
I thought back to the talk we had two years earlier.  She had been 
so shy and hesitant then, despite her bold request at the time.

      Looking up at me now was the flushed face of a confident 
young woman who had grown up in so many ways in such a small time 
span.  I opened my mouth to speak, and say those three words that 
some might consider to be cliche in this moment, but as our eyes 
made contact I could feel their meaning pass silently between us 
just the same.  Words having failed in the moment, I did only what 
was left for me to do.

      "Ohh!" Trisha exhaled, her eyes fluttering closed as I 
pressed into her depths.  I was relatively sure it was a painless 
experience for her, as Daisy had shared with me that Trisha had 
been fully fingering herself from pretty much the first time she 
had masturbated, and that she could not recall ever experiencing 
the pain of tearing her hymen in the process, probably being one of 
those girls that were born without one.  "So big," she moaned.

      "It doesn't hurt anywhere?" I asked, my own breathing growing 
heavy as I contended with the sensation of her tight young pussy 
coaxing me to do my biological duty.

      "No, Daddy, no.  It...it feels...you feel so good inside me.  
It's just different from other things."  She smiled up at me, 
positively basking in the moment of our new intimacy.  "Does it 
feel good for you?  Y-you're not moving."  I could hear a little 
doubt creeping in.

      "Yes, Trish...you...you feel really good.  I'm just trying 
not to...to go too fast for you," I assured her.

      "Mmm...I love you, Daddy," she sighed, saying at last those 
words we'd thought towards each other just a moment ago.  "It's 
okay.  I'm ready for you now.  I waited before, but I'm ready now.  
Fuck me.  Fuck me like I wanted you to back then."  Her eyes looked 
up at me, clearer than they'd ever been before, full of nothing but 
trust in me.

      "I love you too, Trisha," I said, and drew back, her tight 
young cunt both gripping on me and pushing me away at the same 
time.  When only the head remained inside, I pumped forward, the 
wetness that Trisha had tried so hard to hide years ago, helping me 
to glide deep inside again.

      "Oooh!" she gasped, biting at her lip as our hips collided, 
but I didn't give her time to savor that moment.  No, I did as she 
had asked me.  Closing my eyes I pictured that little girl with the 
gently swelling nipples and the plump hairless mound that had 
lovingly teased me in this same bed with her blossoming sexuality.  
I returned to being that man that snatched up her panties and 
lusted over that forbidden flesh.  How tight and small had she 
appeared to me then, naively asking me to put my cock inside of 
her.  Two years of stored up desire, desire that I thought had been 
satiated by my hornball teenage wife, suddenly reemerged from 
somewhere within me and surged into my lower body, making me thrust 
again and again.

      "Aaah!  Aaah, Daddy, yes!" she cried out, her slender legs 
bending and rubbing against my sides as I took her.  I felt her 
arms reaching around my back, and I obliged her by pressing my body 
against her as I kept up the pace of my screwing, mashing her firm 
young tits into my chest.  The difference in our heights put her 
face into my collarbone, and I could feel her breath on me there 
when she would exhale in rapid bursts.  Her pussy was tight and 
constricting around me, but at the same time welcoming and yielding 
from her characteristic wetness that so well lubricated my shaft 
and produced a gentle suckling sound with each plunge.  "It's so 
warm, Daddy.  So warm and big inside me.  I feel so full when you 
push in!"

      I pressed harder each time, going deeper, even if it was only 
by fractions of an inch at a time.  I felt her moving along with 
me, her much narrower childish hips rocking and pushing back at 
me.  I could feel her thighs spreading as my own presses between 
them, our groins growing closer together, eventually meeting in a 
satisfying slap of my balls against her bottom and the soft press 
of her pussy lips around the base of my shaft.  For the first time 
since she was a sperm cell waiting to shoot out of me, we were as 
close to being one person as we'd ever be.

      "Oh, Daddy...oh, I-I never knew it could be so deep in," she 
groaned under me.  "M-Mom...D-Daisy, I mean, s-she wanted to h-help 
me g-get used to it for you tonight, b-but," she paused to groan as 
I'm certain I felt the tip make contact with her cervix, "I-I 
wanted o-only you to be the f-first to...first to fill up my fanny 
like this."  I groaned at that choice of words.  Not a bad groan, 
like I found the word 'fanny' to be off putting or cheesy.  Oh no, 
quite the opposite.  It was only once Daisy came to live with us 
that Trisha had stopped using her native slang 'fanny' to refer to 
her nether regions.  That she was saying it now that I was 
literally balls deep inside her, evoked all kinds of memories and 
thoughts of her pre-pubescent body.

      "Only me, sweetheart?" I asked her.  "Even when you were a 
horny naughty little girl?"

      "Yes, Daddy, yes," she whimpered.  I could feel her clench 
around me in that moment between question and answer.  Not just 
with her slick walls, but with her arms around me too.  "Ever since 
I touched it...ever since I saw it...ever since Daisy told me about 
all the wet sticky spermies that would shoot up inside me.  I 
fingered my little fanny wanting Daddy to fuck me!"  I felt her go.  

      Seconds later, I followed, granting my little girl's wish.





      Chapter 15

      "Daddy...I'm getting married!"

      I winced.  It's not that I wasn't happy for Trisha.  If 
anything hearing the emotion in her voice made my heart swell with 
love and pride for her happiness.  It's just...as her father, I 
felt like I was losing her somehow.  To be fully honest, I had 
known for sometime that Joh was going to pop the question, as he'd 
asked me privately for my permission when he and Trisha had visited 
over the holidays.  It had really surprised me at the time, as I 
really didn't think asking a father for his daughter's hand was 
something that was done anymore.  The poor guy was so nervous that 
he actually asked me in his native Dutch first before seeing the 
lost look on my face.  I gave it, of course.  Johannes had always 
impressed me from the day Trisha brought him home with her from 
London four years ago.

      "Congratulations, sweetheart," I replied, my voice almost 
cracking, although I wondered if she might mistake that for poor 
line quality on this international call.  I glanced at the bedside 
clock, it was 9:23 in the morning.  "When did he ask you?"

      "Just after lunch.  I would have called you sooner, but you 
would have been asleep and, um...we've been celebrating."  I 
smirked.  'Celebrating' had been a code word for 'fucking' between 
Daisy, Trisha, and I when the kids were younger.  A bit of quick 
mental math told me that it was just before 6:30 in the evening in 
Greece.

      "Celebrate too much and you might need a third plane ticket 
the next time you visit," I joked.  I heard Trisha laugh lightly at 
that, hesitantly.

      "Uh, w-well, about that, Daddy..." she trailed off quietly, 
and I felt my heart leap into my throat.

      "Trisha, are you?" I thought I heard a sniffle come from the 
little speaker next to my ear, although that could have been line 
quality too.

      "I am, Daddy.  I'm having a baby."  I was floored.  "We only 
just found out today.  I took, like, 12 tests.  I've never peed so 
much."

      "S-Sweetheart," I started, my mind going blank from the shock 
of how sudden this all was.  I blinked and felt something wet run 
down my cheek.  "Con--congratulations," I repeated my earlier 
felicitation.  "You're having a baby," I stated dumbly.

      "Yeah, I am," she cried happily from half a world away.  
"You're gonna be a grandpa.  Mattie and Sabs are gonna be aunties, 
and Davy an uncle."

      "I don't know how Daisy is going to feel about being called 
'Grandma,'" I remarked.  "She's only 32."  Trisha laughed.  The 
sound of her voice only made me miss her more.  "When are you due?  
When will I see you again?"

      "We haven't seen a doctor yet.  I've missed two periods 
though, so...in seven months, I guess? October?"

      "Come out in May then.  For the birthdays," I suggested.  
Trisha, Daisy, and the twins all had May birthdays.

      "Okay, I'll try.  Is it safe for the baby to fly on an 
airplane though?"

      "You've only been in Greece four days," I pointed out.  
"Unless you two are planning to walk back to Groningen, I think you 
have the answer to that."

      "Oh, Daddy," she laughed.  "Is anybody else there?"

      "Not here with me, no.  Daisy got up to get breakfast for the 
kids just before you called.  I can go get them so you can share 
the news," I offered, sitting up in anticipation of doing just that.

      "A-actually, Daddy, w-why don't we stay like this a little 
longer.  Just us in your bed together, like back then."  Back then, 
the last time just the two of us shared this bed, was 12 years ago.

      "Sure, sweetheart," I agreed, settling back down.  "Is Joh 
not there with you right now?"

      "No.  He went out to get dinner."

      "So it really is just the two of us alone then."

      "Yeah."  It was silent on the line for a moment, long enough 
that I was about to ask if she was still there when she spoke up 
again.  "H-how is everybody?  How are you?"

      "I'm fine.  You don't need to worry about me.  Daisy has been 
keeping me on a strict diet of bland, bland and more bland."  A few 
years earlier, shortly after my 50th birthday, I had had a fainting 
spell while barking instructions from the sidelines of Mattie's 
soccer game, which scared the hell out of all of us.  I suffered no 
ill effects from it, but under doctor's orders was put on a low 
sodium, low fat diet, which my dutiful young wife enforced with the 
ruthlessness of a hardened dictator.  Her ultimatum was that I had 
to give up either food or sex.  It was an easy choice.  Trisha, for 
her part, fussed over me right up until she got on the plane to 
Europe two months later.

      "Good.  That's good."  A beat.  "And the kids?"

      "Well, Mattie seems to have a new boyfriend every week these 
days," I sighed.

      "Oooh, busy girl.  She's gonna end up like her Auntie Krista 
if she's not careful."  I knew Trisha was joking, but that thought 
turned a few more hairs on my head gray.  Krista was only 27, but 
had four kids already, and she only really knew the father of the 
first one: her big brother.

      "Hey now.  You know your little sister is better than that," 
I groaned.

      "I know, Daddy.  Sabs is a very good girl!"

      "She had better be.  She's only 10," I pointed out, to the 
sound of giggles, not just in my ear, but at my door as well.  
"Speaking of the little angel..."  I beckoned, and Sabrina, my 
youngest daughter by a few minutes, leapt forward, diving onto the 
bed beside me in a manner reminiscent of a certain other child of 
mine when she was little.

      "Good morning, Daddy," she said, kissing my cheek and 
cuddling up by my side, laying her head on my chest.

      "Are your sister and brother up yet?" I asked her.

      "Nuh-uh.  They're still in bed."

      "Is that Sabs?" I heard Trisha ask in my ear.

      "Yeah," I answered her.  "Sabby, you want to talk to your big 
sis?" I asked her.

      "Trisha?!" her eyes lit up.  It was an interesting quirk of 
genetics, but Trisha and Sabrina really did look like each other 
despite having different mothers.  I handed the phone over.  "Hi 
Trisha! ... A secret? ... Really?! ... A baby too?!  Daddy, 
Trisha's gonna get married and have a baby!"  I laughed as I put my 
hand on her back and rubbed.

      "I guess it's not that much of a secret now, is it?" I asked 
her, making her giggle.  She cupped her hand around her mouth and 
turned over to face away from me in an attempt to hide what she 
would say next.  I strained my ears to listen in anyways.

      "Did you get filled up with a lot of sperm to make it?" my 
little local daughter asked my big foreign daughter, and another 
giggle followed the answer she was given.  "Nuh-uh. ... No. ... 
Mattie has, but not me. ... No.  I wanna be like you and do it with 
Daddy first."  Yeah.  In case you had been wondering, despite our 
best efforts at first, we had become that sort of family.  I took 
the opportunity to do what Sabs had come in here to do with me in 
the first place, and slid my hand between her legs to rub her bare 
pussy.  She really was my very good girl.

      As I gently diddled the last remaining virgin in the house, I 
allowed myself a moment to day dream about the near future and 
beyond.  I imagined my little future grandson or granddaughter 
playing with their aunts and uncle.  I imagined those same aunts 
and uncle growing up and having more little grandchildren for me 
and Daisy.  I would be almost 53 later this year when this one 
would be born.  How old would I be when the others came? 63? 70?  
Would I see the day when those babies would have babies?  I wasn't 
really too worried about my health as things were now, but...maybe 
I shouldn't complain so much when Daisy would serve me some kind of 
weird seaweed substitute for meat when the kids would all get real 
hamburgers...

      Motion at the door drew my attention out of the thought 
bubble above my head.  There stood Matilda, age 12, a nipple pocked 
t-shirt covering her chest, with a sullen look on her face and a 
hand cupped between her bare legs.  Beside her was David, age 10, 
naked as the day he was born, with a hard little pecker sticking 
straight up.  Behind them was Daisy, one hand on each of their 
shoulders, and a Cheshire smile on her face that I knew meant 
something was up in this hornball family of ours.  "What?" I asked, 
and Daisy patted our son's shoulder.

      "I came!" he said exuberantly, and I saw then that his 
hairless groin was glistening in the morning light coming in 
through the window.

      "In me," added Mattie with a perturbed sigh, who then held 
out her hand to show me the product of my boy's first ejaculation 
that had dripped out into her palm.

      A few more hairs on my head lost all color. "Alright," I 
sighed.  "C'mere you guys," I motioned for the group to come join 
me and Sabs on the bed.  "But before we deal with that," and I 
reached over to take my phone from the little girl breathing 
heavily into a conversation with her adored big sister, "Trisha has 
some news for all of you."

      The family gathered around as I lay the phone down and tapped 
the 'speaker phone' button.  "You're on speaker, Trisha.  Everybody 
is here, go ahead."

      Later that night, in my bed, we all 'celebrated.'



            The End.



Author's note: Well hot damn, I finished it.  The original Word DOC 
I started this story in has a creation date of April 18, 2007.  
That's right, I spent 11 years writing this.  I came back to this 
over and over again during that time, sometimes adding only a 
sentence or two before putting it back on the shelf and working on 
something else.  You can see for yourself on my stories page, how 
many of those release and update dates fall within that 11 year 
span.  Weaving it's way through working on them all was Daddy's Bed.

I'd known for a long time exactly how it was going to end, and for 
the most part, it did end just that way with a few alterations.  
Knowing how it would end has always been a great indicator to me on 
if I'm going to finish something or not, and it really gives me 
motivation to push through the periods of creative doubt and 
anxiety that often come while writing.  What really gave me that 
final, "get off your ass and finish it," nudge however, was 
feedback from somebody on my sorely neglected tumblr account.  They 
sent me a message back in December asking me if I would ever finish 
it, and so I decided to do so once my other stuff in the pipeline 
was cleared away.  So, let that be a lesson to you, that feedback 
works!  I suppose it helped that I was pretty well into the final 
stage of this story too, but if you poke me with a stick, I just 
might jump.

Be sure to head to the bottom of my stories page and check out the 
two "deleted scenes" for this story as well for some insight into 
Trisha's mother and a removed fashion show after Trisha gets home 
from her shopping adventure with Daisy and Krista.

Thanks for reading, and feedback is always welcome.

Hardguy
8=====>~~~


This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and 
incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are 
used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or 
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.