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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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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2014. Please
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Shy Away
by J.E. Ashbourne (jennifereliseashbourne@yahoo.co.uk)
***
A father spends an unexpected afternoon with his
extremely shy daughter. (M/f-teen, ped, mast, voy)
***
My daughter is the most wonderfully shy girl you could
ever meet. She is virtually mute around people and
averts her eyes rather than look at anyone, even me.
It's been a constant from the time she was small. So
imagine the shock I had when I realised that she was
masturbating in the same room as me!
It all started when she came home early from her
mother's one weekend. Normally I get every other weekend
to myself, but this weekend she arrived home having
walked all the way after her mother had to go away
urgently to see her sister. She was happy enough; her
cheeks were rosy with the uphill walk. She had on a
short white flared chiffon skirt with a white strappy
vest top, with white cotton ankle socks. At fourteen her
legs are slender and shapely and her shape up top was
very modestly endowed.
We have two sofas in our living room. I was lying on the
three-seater watching TV, while she was lying on the
two-seater. We were both facing away from each other,
and to be honest I couldn't see her face, and would not
even have known what was happening except that I could
hear her. I didn't know what it was at first. But then I
heard what was the unmistakable sound of heavy
breathing.
I peered over to her sofa. She was slunk down in the
seat, her body laid down along the length. Her knees
were raised up so her feet were flat on the seat. But in
so doing, her white skirt had ridden up her thighs to
bunch up at her hips. And barely visible, I could see
her hand stuffed down the front of her white cotton
panties.
I couldn't believe it! Did she think I was asleep? Did
she think I couldn't hear? Or was she just so caught up
in her own sensations that she forgot I was even there?
Or even didn't care that I was there! The last one
excited me more than I knew it should have.
I've always found those first few years of sexuality
really interesting. As girls develop into women their
bodies seem to develop like fine porcelain. The childish
shape morphs into a new and exciting female shape, not
yet fully matured. Not woman, not child, but something
beautiful in between. It's not even just the fact that
they discover themselves, but on a purely aesthetic
basis I find the way they look so beautiful.
My daughter had that beautiful body. I had seen it many
times as I checked on her as I went up to bed. You check
less as they get older, but occasionally I would have to
drape her covers over her as she slept naked in bed. And
her body was slender, her legs were long, and her
breasts were raised bumps to make small pyramids of
flesh.
But now there was no mistaking. This was sexual.
Her breathing was rasping as I watched her fingers
stroking up and down her female groove, gathering her
own moisture, no doubt, and slicking it up to her
clitoris. Then I could see that her fingers were
concentrating on her clit as she stroked gently up and
down, around and around.
I was painfully aware of my own arousal, now pressed
hard into my pyjama trousers. I like to slog around the
place in anything comfortable when it's my time alone
and I hadn't bothered putting anything else on when she
got home. I raised my knees so I could disguise the
obvious tent had I now created. But as I looked back at
my daughter I could see she was busy with other things.
I watched as she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her
panties and quietly slipped them down, lifted her
perfect bottom to allow them to slip effortlessly to her
thighs, where they stopped. She'd obviously needed
better access to herself. Her fingers slipped back to
her bare pussy, and she began diddling her clit in ever
quicker movements.
It was too much for me. I pulled up the elasticated
waist on my pyjamas and released my raging hard-on. My
fingers were instantly on it and I began to stroke in
time with my daughter's thrapping clit. She breathed
sharply in with pleasure as I saw her hips gyrate
slightly. She must have come! She stopped. So did I.
I didn't want to make a sound, but my cock was throbbing
to be touched. The only sound was the TV droning on in
the background.
Then her fingers dipped down her pussy again and I could
hear the slickness as she slipped her fingers deeper
into herself. She stifled a moan. But I heard it. Then
she slipped her slippery fingers up her wet pussy lips
to her clit once again. I could see them glisten with
her pussy juice! And we were off again. A little
noisier. The wetness causing slopping sounds as her
breathing shortened and she tried not to moan aloud. But
her breathing was rapid, no mistaking that. She was
totally wrapped up in her pleasure.
I was matching her. Her finger speed for mine. I could
feel my own pleasure rising as I craned my head to watch
my beautiful daughter pleasuring herself. Then her other
hand reached up under her vest top, pushing it up as she
grabbed hold of her tender young breast. She kneaded it,
groping first one and then the other I could barely see.
I could see her tweaking her undeveloped nipples, which
were obviously sensitive, as she let out a breath which
I hoped wouldn't sign the end of her pleasure. But
instead it seemed to heighten my little girl's
sensations, and her fingers at her pussy went into a
blur of frenzied thrapping.
I was on the brink, fighting off the need to come so I
could come with my daughter. But with every stroke it
became harder. I looked back over to a beautiful sight.
Her breathing was now like a panic attack, and as her
back arched she let out a half sigh, half moan gasp of
air as I saw her fingers splashed with squirted come! It
was too much for me, as she took her fingers away and
her squirts hit her panties half way up her thighs! I
squirted my own come up my chest and stomach, and
slumped.
We both lay there, just getting our breath back. Both
frozen. Unable to move. She must have known I had heard
her, or seen her even, I thought. Maybe it had just
dawned on her and now my shy daughter was paralysed to
move. Then I thought, what if she had heard me? Or seen
me. Her own father masturbating in the same room as her!
What if she realised I had seen her and that's why I was
masturbating? All these thoughts ran through my head,
and yet my erection was still rampant.
Now thoughts of how to get out of the situation hit me.
I was covered in come. And it would soon start running
off me. I glanced over at my daughter. She was gently,
as quietly as she could, putting herself right. Her vest
top was back down, and she was pulling her soaking wet
panties back up around her snug ass. Then her skirt was
back in place and nothing had ever happened.
I noticed the T-shirt I had taken off earlier was draped
over the back of the sofa. Thank God I hadn't dropped it
in the laundry. I reached up for it and barely grabbed
it between my fingers. I pulled it over myself and
soaked up my come. And I carefully put my still hard
penis into my pyjama trousers. I still looked like a man
who had just wanked off. But one of us had to make a
move.
I got up quickly and went for the nearest door – the
kitchen. As I tried to hide my excitement I glanced at
my glorious daughter. Nothing was amiss. Like she'd just
been watching TV. As though I had imagined the whole
thing. But as I caught her eye I smiled at her, "Okay,
honey?" She blushed deep red and turned back to the TV.
"Fine, Daddy", she said.
I made it into the kitchen and threw the T-shirt in the
washing machine. I made a coffee to calm myself down. By
the time I re-entered the living room she had gone. No
doubt scampered upstairs to change. I heard the shower
going.
I couldn't believe what had just happened. I had just
had a wanking session with my fourteen year old
daughter! I checked her sofa, and there, as if to prove
I hadn't dreamed the whole thing, was a dark wet stain.
I touched it, smelled it, and tried to taste it, but
there was no taste other than upholstery.
I wandered up the stairs, just as she came out of the
bathroom. She scurried away like a frightened rabbit. I
went into the bathroom and found her clothes in the
washing basket. Her panties were sodden. This time I got
a taste of my own daughter's pussy. It was the most
sensual taste and smell I have ever come across. I had
to have another wank right there in the bathroom. And
she never got those panties back again!
The End
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real
life" can look forward to many unproductive years
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 81