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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Tan Lines
by Bald Eagle (raptor@large.com)
***
A father is sorely tempted by his pretty young teenage
daughter. (M/f-teen, inc)
***
A lot of people laugh at the antiquated concept of the
Devil and I was one of them until one hot and sunny day
last summer. It all began innocently enough...
After my wife Sarah died, my daughter Julie and I did
the best we could to get along without her but
eventually both of us felt the need for a woman in our
lives.
I met Mary at one of those seminars for single
professionals and we hit it off right away. She was
beautiful and successful and I was shy and lonely.
After we had dated a few times, I introduced her to
Julie and the two of them hit it off pretty well too.
One night Mary convinced me that maintaining two
households was simply not cost effective and within the
month we married.
It was after we had married that I discovered exactly
how successful she had been, holding a portfolio of
blue-chip stocks and owning a summer house on Martha's
Vineyard. It was at that summer house that my tussle
with the Devil occurred.
Mary had to go off-island for the day, departing on the
first ferry and leaving me and Julie to our own
devices. I slept in. After I woke up and was pouring my
first cup of coffee, I looked out the kitchen window
and spotted Julie down on our private beach, spreading
out a blanket and wearing the tiniest, pinkest bikini
I'd ever seen.
I had been vaguely aware of the fact that she was
growing up, but seeing her in that bikini made me
realize that my little girl was already beyond cute and
moving quickly towards becoming a woman. I ate a light
breakfast and decided to go down to the beach to sit
with Julie and soak up the sun.
When I came crunching through the sand towards her
blanket, Julie was lying on her stomach reading a
magazine and I noticed that there was no swimsuit strap
across her back. There were however two broad and
bright white lines running east to west where the
double strap from last year's child's swimsuit had
blocked out the sun.
Julie heard me coming and greeted me with a languid,
"Morning, Dad."
I sat down beside her and removed my shirt.
"Dad, now that you're here, would you mind rubbing some
suntan lotion on my back?" she asked.
I commented that she appeared to be missing the top of
her bikini and with a sweet giggle she countered that
Mary had told her that tan lines were unsightly and the
mark of an unsophisticated woman. I chuckled as I
picked up the bottle of suntan lotion, which had been
made hot to the touch by the blazing sun. I poured some
into my left hand and then rubbed my hands together.
"Work on those tan lines, please, Dad," mumbled Julie.
I started up around the nape of her neck and moved
gradually down her backbone, spreading the coconut-
scented lotion left and right. It was a bit of a
strain, so I scuttled around behind her and knelt
between her spread out legs. I went to work again,
spreading the warm and slippery lotion over her
shoulder blades, when suddenly I recalled going through
the exact same motions about 20 years before, with her
mother, on a beach in southern California. I guess I
slipped into a reverie and my hands slowed to a stop as
I tripped back in time.
"The tan lines, Dad. Don't forget the tan lines."
Julie's voice brought me back to the present and I
obediently began spreading lotion over the two white
lines. Where was that beach so long ago? San Diego? Del
Mar? Although I closed my eyes to try to bring the
distant memory into focus, I didn't neglect my duties
and continued spreading the lotion, lower and lower
down Julie's firm young back. I had reached the top
edge of her bikini bottom when Julie reminded me
gently, "The tan lines, Dad. You're forgetting the tan
lines."
I opened my eyes and took a look at the tan lines. They
weren't really all that ugly but if Julie wanted them
eradicated, well, what's a father for? I poured some
more lotion into my hands and began to smother those
tan lines with determination. My mind began to wander
again as I smeared the viscous liquid across my
daughter's back and I was only slightly aware of the
bone and muscle beneath my palms.
When I felt her rib bones curving under, it seemed to
me that I was nearing the end of my task, but Julie
said quietly, "A little further Dad."
In my mind I was back in California, young and strong
and afraid of nothing, and my hands were on auto-pilot,
stroking and smoothing away those damned tan lines.
"A little more, Dad."
As if from a great distance, I received a weak signal
from my fingertips that they had moved from bone to
tender flesh and were climbing a slight grade. My mind
snapped back to the present and my body froze. "Jesus
Christ! I'm feeling up my own daughter!"
I distinctly heard Julie say, "Still a little more,
Dad," and I swear I heard the Devil laugh, somewhere up
inside my skull.
I removed my hands from my daughter's body and stared
at them for what seemed like hours. Then, in the slow
motion movements of a dream, I picked up the bottle of
hot suntan lotion and squirted a pool of it into my
hand. I rubbed my hands together, and mumbling "Tan
lines" I placed my hands on either side of her spine
and oh-so-slowly traced the tan lines, towards her
arms, under her rib cage, then up those two mounds on
the other side.
Julie raised her torso off the towel a bit and my
fingertips glided over a bumpy edge and found her
nipples. I swear I wanted to turn back, to quit, to beg
her forgiveness, but somebody somewhere (the Devil?),
pushed my arms and Boom! there I was, rubbing my
slippery fingers over two taut nipples that kept
growing longer and harder.
God, what a delicious feeling it was.
Julie began making little whimpering noises and my
stiff cock was pushing out my swim trunks like a tent
pole. As I leaned forward to give Julie a tender kiss
on the nape of her neck, my tent pole wedged into the
crack of her ass and Julie jumped up like she had been
shot. I thought, "Oh shit, she's going to call the
police on me or something," but to my surprise, she was
pushing down her bikini bottom, then stepping out of
it.
My daughter resumed her original position on the
blanket and, in a voice that was too husky to be that
of a child, whispered, "A little more, Dad."
My trunks were off in a flash and I was pouring more
suntan lotion onto my hands. I slathered some on my
cock and then bent forward again to rub those tan lines
off my daughter's succulent breasts. My cock was now
riding up and down in the crack of her ass, slippery
with lotion and hard as Japanese geometry.
Julie's whimpers now turned to low moans and her
nipples felt like some exotic berry in my busy fingers.
As my left hand continued to tease her left nipple, my
right hand slowly snaked its way down her belly. Julie
raised herself a bit more off the blanket, and my right
hand slid over the tiny patch of hair on her pubic
mound and my cock slipped down from the crack of her
ass to the crack of her pussy. Julie was breathing
through her mouth now, making that raspy "haaah, haaah"
sound that always turns me up a notch.
My cock was 100% vertical but Julie was pushing
backwards and forwards, causing it to ride up and down
in her downy slit, which was supplying its own
moisturizer by now. "More Dad, more..."
When the oily fingers of my right hand began making
little circles over her clitoris, Julie's body flushed
red, tan lines and all, and I could feel her legs
trembling.
"Oh, Dad. Unnnhhh. Oh jezus. Unnnnhh. Oh, shit, that
feels good."
I began tweaking and tickling the lips of her pussy,
gently spreading them wider, and with my left hand, I
bent my cock down so that the head was pressed straight
against the pink rosebud of her open pussy. "This is
gonna hurt a little, hon."
"It's okay, more Dad. Just give me more!"
Putting my hands on her hips, I guided her backwards
until the head was in. Her vaginal lips sucked it in
hungrily and gave it a squeeze of welcome that sent a
shock wave right up my spine.
"Yes. More Dad. More..."
By straightening my back slowly, I was able to raise
myself up and forward, and I moved both hands around
front to fondle Julie's clitoris while watching in
utter awe as my shaft slipped deeper and deeper in.
Julie began shaking, crying, laughing, shouting, and
bucking, all at the same time.
My cock disappeared completely into my darling daughter
and Julie was rocking hard back on it, jamming it into
herself with jerky thrusts and then shivering as she
lunged forward to feel its full length. Recognizing
those hoarse pants that always signal an orgasm, I
squeezed her swollen clit with one hand and a nipple
with the other.
When she finally came, the noise was enough to scare
off every seagull on the beach. Thank god it was a
private beach.
Since that terrible day, I've never again touched my
daughter in an inappropriate way. And I have vowed that
I never will. Unless she's wearing that tiny pink
bikini.
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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