Enticed by the Sight

Most girls of a certain age have a crush on their fathers. He’s their protector and their first love. He’s their knight in shining armor and the most important man in their lives. He loves them unconditionally and they love him right back. And somehow fathers are always handsome in the eyes of their little girls.

Some of the wilder and braver girls might even harbor secret fantasies about having sex with him. Most of them would never act on such thoughts, though. Society’s guilt, a virgin’s embarrassment and the possibility that daddy would reject them all combine to dissuade their lustful imaginings. No matter much they might wish for it late at night when they’re alone in bed, they don’t trust themselves enough to take that step. They feel the rush of impending womanhood and the thrill of their first self-induced orgasms, and daddy seems like the answer to all of a girl’s new longings. It’s something that grown-up women simply never discuss with each other, so there’s no way to tell just how many women felt the lure of forbidden sex when they were young and impressionable. And most girls never actually did anything about it. But I’m not most girls.

And I’m lucky. I remember very clearly the day that I first saw my father not just as a father, but also as a man - someone who could make wild and passionate love to a woman. Most girls somehow manage to get through their whole lives without quite believing this to be true, and respond with disdainful sounds if anyone should allude to their parents’ sex lives.

It was a Friday. School was over and the warm spring afternoon spoke to all young girls with the promise of a lover’s kiss, a hint of the romantic possibilities in our lives wafting gently on the breeze. I walked home enjoying the warmth and daydreaming about what I might say if Jake Holden asked me to the senior prom. It would be so cool to have a college boy take me, even if I really didn’t have any romantic designs on him.

I’d come home from school early, my after-school activity of tennis lessons canceled by Mrs. Venable. I knew that Dad was home with Rita because both of their cars were in the driveway. With teenage blinders on, it never even occurred to me that they weren’t expecting me.

My real Mom got a divorce from Dad not long after I was born. The way it was told to me later, they just decided that they couldn’t get along. Since it happened when I was so young, I never doubted the explanation. I’d never lived any other way, and our arrangement seemed normal to me. And it wasn’t like Dad was some kind of absentee father.

He played the ‘divorced daddy’ part to the hilt, lavishing me with love and gifts whenever we got together. I saw him every weekend and even sometimes during the week. Mom obviously got along with him much better after they were divorced, because she never turned him down if he wanted to take me somewhere. There were annual trips to the circus (with lots of cotton candy!), a rafting trip down the Arkansas, and he even took my girlfriends and me and to see Duran Duran once! I can only imagine what he really thought of that. But he did it because he loved me, and he even pretended to like it.

Dad and I were like best friends. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t tell him, and I always looked forward to seeing him, even if we were just going to hang out. It’s not like I didn’t love Mom, too. She was my other best friend. Mom was always there for me too, and I grew up feeling very secure and loved in spite of my fractured family.

I know that most teenage girls live a life of angst and unnamed needs, but the three of us were quite happy with our little arrangement. And I know that some of my girlfriends were quite jealous of me, for I had the best of both worlds. You might wonder why I never thought about trying to get them back together, but I guess that just because it had always been this way I never really gave it a second thought.

Then Mom died. A drunk driver hit her as she was driving home from work, and our lives were changed in a heartbeat. For the first time I found myself living with my Dad. We helped each other get through our loss, consoling and grieving together.

Eventually our new daily routines asserted themselves, and our lives became more normal. Daddy left every morning for his job as an engineer with an oil company, and I went off to school. He was still my best buddy, joking around with me after school and watching movies on TV with me while we threw popcorn at each other. I did my share of the household chores, and I enjoyed our domestic tranquility I suppose I would have been content with that life for years.

But Daddy wasn’t living in a vacuum, attending only to my needs. After a couple of years of living the bachelor-daddy-and-daughter life, he met Rita. She was bright and cheery, with short red hair and lipstick that left marks on Daddy’s lips when she kissed him. I wish that I could say I was jealous or betrayed because she was replacing my mom. But the fact is that she fit into our lives so seamlessly and we both loved her so much that if I’d ever had any such thoughts they were so small and insignificant that I was never even aware of them.

They were married in a big ceremony and I was the maid of honor. Dad still worked for the oil company, and Rita had a high level job at the local amusement park. As much fun as Dad and I had always had together before Rita entered our lives, I could now see a contented look in his eye that didn’t used to be there. Rita and I had about the same build and shape, and Daddy took to calling us ‘his girls.’ I grew to love her, and we were warmed together by his love. And so our lives went on, Daddy and Rita and Nikki.

I guess that I didn’t make much noise that Tuesday afternoon when I walked into the kitchen and caught them necking, or they surely would have stopped. Rita was sitting on the counter, her bare legs wrapped around Dad. He was still dressed for work in his khaki slacks and an expensive shirt and tie. His briefcase was on the floor beside them. She had her tennis shoes on, and her dress was pushed up far enough that I could clearly see Daddy’s hand on her white cotton panties, firmly rubbing her between the legs.

I stood in the doorway, frozen by the sight. It was as if I knew that I’d come across one of those secrets that grown-ups seem so effortlessly to keep from their children. A fundamental truth about what really went on between a man and woman was about to be revealed to me, if only I made the best use of the opportunity. I backed up into the entryway and peered around the edge of the doorframe, watching and hoping that they’d continue. I could always pretend that I’d just walked in, couldn’t I?

They were doing the kind of kissing that most parents refrain from in front of their children. It was hot and heavy – their mouths open wide as they hungrily explored each other. Rita had a little smile on her lips as she enjoyed Dad’s ministrations, and I was amazed to see her wiggle around on the counter so that his fingers were always hitting just the right spot.

They were both panting, and the air seemed like it was filled with their passion. I was astounded. I mean, I guess if anybody asked me if Dad and Rita ever had sex I would have said yes, but I don’t know if I would have really believed it. Kids never truly believe that of their parents. And here they were, as close to doing it right in front of me as they could be. And in the kitchen, no less!

Rita spread her legs even wider, a sultry little chuckle escaping her lips as she enjoyed his touch. Now I could see that her hand was between his legs too. She was holding on to him through his slacks and rubbing him up and down deliberately, his manhood pressing against the palm of her hand.

I’d never seen one so close before. It was so big! Even through his slacks I could tell that it was huge. I felt a pleasant shiver run down my spine and dampness down below. She was going to let him put that in her? How could she? How could any girl? It would never fit inside; I just knew it wouldn’t. But even as those thoughts ran through my head, my body betrayed them. I felt myself begin to grow moist between my legs as I watched.

I couldn’t take my eyes off Daddy’s bulge. I was thoroughly enticed by the sight of my father’s hungry manhood. My mouth began to water, some unknown hunger manifesting itself as I tried to imagine what it would look like naked and unrestrained by Rita’s hand or his pants. How hard was it? Would it be bright pink? Did it feel hot? The images that came to my virgin brain sent a warm rush through my pussy, and a wave of a new kind of lust washed through me.

I waited for Rita to unzip him, to take my daddy’s sex out of his pants where I could see it. I knew she was going to. She had to, didn’t she? I mean, even from my spot in the doorway I could tell how much it was straining to be inside her. And that’s what having sex was, wasn’t it? Letting a man shove that inside you and spurt his seed into you? I was going crazy. My pussy was telling me it needed that thing inside me right this minute. But somehow I resisted the urge to run over and unzip him myself.

Then Rita changed the rhythm of her stroking, slowing and pushing harder. Dad stopped rubbing her, closed his eyes and moaned. Rita giggled and then leaned away from him so that she watch herself rub him. Her delicate fingers stroked him deliberately through his slacks, and somehow I knew that she wasn’t playing around anymore – she was trying to get him to cum.

I knew what was supposed to happen when a girl had sex - I wasn’t that young. And I’d discovered how to pleasure myself a few years before. But I knew that playing with yourself and had to be different than actually having sex, or you wouldn’t need a man at all. How would it really feel to have something that big sliding in and out of you? Shooting a man’s hot stuff into you? As that image popped into my head I had to stifle a little moan as my knees became weak with desire and I leaned in the doorway.

As I watched Daddy’s thrusting changed. Somehow it was more purposeful, more insistent. His breathing, which had been pretty ragged ever since I came in on them, became deeper as he tried to catch enough air. His sex slid up and down in Rita’s hand, faster and harder. Suddenly Daddy closed his eyes and moaned, a strangling sound from deep inside him that kind of sounded like he was choking….

Daddy caught his breath and froze, his straining rod pushed hard into Rita’s hand as it spasmed out his seed. Rita and I watched as a tiny wet spot appeared on the front of his pants and began growing with every spurt from Dad’s covered manhood. He moaned as the spot grew, occasionally pushing himself up and down as his body shook out his come. Rita had a rapt little smile on her face as she looked down between her legs and watched him spurting into his slacks. My legs became weak and my pussy throbbed for attention as I saw a man cum for the first time.

Finally he was done. Rita kept stroking his hardness, but her motions had changed. They were slower and less insistent. She swirled her finger in the wet spot on his pants, gathering his sperm. She waited until Dad opened his eyes and looked at her, and then slowly brought it towards her mouth. Daddy moaned as he watched her lick his sperm off of her fingers, a bright look in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

“God, you’re so sexy,” Dad said.

Rita smiled seductively and said, “Oh? Well don’t you go thinking I’m through with you, buster.”

She grabbed his tie and pulled him close so that she could give him a big wet kiss. Dad was still gasping for air so she took pity on him and let him go. He leaned against Rita, her legs wrapped around him as she held him tightly. She started giving him little bunny kisses on the corners of his mouth and occasionally nibbling on his lips as his breathing slowed towards normal. Their post sex cuddling was very intimate, and I felt embarrassed, jealous and excited all at the same time. After a minute or two Rita jumped down off of the counter, her dress still hiked up to her hips. She bent over as she quickly slithered out of her panties.

Rita stepped close to Dad and put her panties near his mouth. Dad snapped at them but Rita snatched them away. After a couple of near misses she finally allowed him to catch her damp underwear in his teeth. “Does baby want some more?” she whispered, almost laughing. Daddy just growled, his teeth tightly holding on to her cotton panties. He reached for her hips, but Rita backed quickly away.

“Oh no you don’t! Nikki’s going to be home soon, and we don’t want her to catch us like this.”

Dad took the panties from his mouth and held them near his nose, and inhaling their scent with unrestrained lust. Rita laughed. “Like what?” Dad asked innocently, a huge smile on his face.

As if she’d been challenged, Rita answered by peeling her dress up and off over her head. She held it off to one side, dangling from her finger. She struck a sexy pose, her arms held wide and one knee bent in front of the other. She looked one of those models on "The Price is Right," showing off a new washer or something. But she was showing off herself. Somehow she looked more than naked with the dress hanging from her finger and wearing nothing but her sneakers. She was so curvy and sexy that I almost wanted her myself. She had a big smile on her lips as she let him ogle her body. It must have been some kind of game they played, because he just stood there, grinning and waiting. Then Rita dropped the dress, which was obviously the ‘go’ signal. She squealed with delight and ran away naked, my dad in hot pursuit. I watched them run from the kitchen and then I heard him chase her upstairs, both of them laughing.

I realized that I was as exhausted as if I’d just had an orgasm myself. My pussy was warm and ready. It was almost as if it had eyes of its own, and had become excited by watching Dad and Rita just like I had. I knew that there was no putting it off - I was going to have to do myself. Right now.

I didn’t even want to wait the amount of time it would take me to go upstairs to my room. I stepped back into the laundry room for a little privacy. I wasn’t ready to get caught having sex in the kitchen, and I knew for a fact now that these things do happen sometimes. Obviously Rita had done some clothes that afternoon because the little room was still warm and smelled nice. I had an idea. I looked in the dryer, and sure enough, there was a load of soft just-dried towels in there. I pulled them out and threw them on top of the dryer.

I kicked off my shoes as I unsnapped my jeans. I peeled them down and then I slipped off my panties. Gosh, they were wet and sticky. I don’t think I’d ever been so wet down there. I remember thinking, ‘What’s happening to me?’

I turned my back to the dryer and put my hands on top of it. I hiked myself up, and my ass landed on the soft warm pile of towels. God, I felt so sexy. Being naked from the waist down while you’re somewhere that you’re not supposed to be is very exciting. The heat from the towels seemed to magnify the heat from my little slit. I leaned back on top of the dryer, my back cushioned by the pile of freshly done laundry. I pulled my knees up and spread them wide.

I grazed my fingers over my inflamed pussy lips, just barely touching them. They were so sensitive that it was all the touch they could stand. I reached down a little further and felt the warm slipperiness of my hole, oozing girl fluids that dripped down towards my ass. I dipped my middle finger inside my slick warmth and got it all slippery. I circled my hole a couple of times, trying to imagine what it would feel like to have Daddy trying to push his big thing into me. I got a flash image of Dad standing there between my spread legs, thrusting himself into me right there in the laundry room. I started gasping for air and a little moan escaped my lips.

I moved my fingers up and began rubbing my clit back and forth frantically, the pressure and friction suddenly as necessary to me as breathing. My ass squirmed on the warm towels as I started that last little climb to an orgasm – not that I had all that far to go. I was wiggling around so hard that I was starting to slide off the front edge of the dryer. My feet were still in the air, and there was nothing there for me to push against anyhow. I braced myself with my free hand (no, my other hand never stopped what it was doing), and pushed myself back onto the dryer. Through the towels my back somehow hit the ‘on’ button, and the dryer roared to life. The vibrations from the machine seemed to know exactly where they wanted to go – straight to my pussy.

I started to cum, my body awash in so many sensations that it was like I was a girl drowning. There was the warm ‘spring fresh’ scent of the humid laundry room and the feel of the soft towels under my bare ass. My knees were spread wide and my feet were in the air in that position that every girl loves, submitting herself to a good ravishing. There was the tickling sensation from the vibrating dryer concentrating itself on my throbbing clit. And there was the feel of my middle finger slipping around, rubbing and tickling a massive orgasm right out of me.

But most of all, there was the image of Dad between my legs, his long hardness pushed into me as far as it could be. I envisioned his manhood, so big, so insistent in its desire to spew sperm into his little girl. My pussy would be stretched so tautly around him that I might be torn in two as he thrust it into me. I couldn’t help myself – I needed to be filled so badly that I plunged three fingers inside my hole, pretending that they were Daddy. I came and came and came. I shuddered, gasping and panting, and I remember thinking that it was a good thing that the sound of the dryer was covering up my thrashing and the little squeals that escaped my lips.

Finally I started to come down from the biggest orgasm I’d ever had. I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding my breath, but I suddenly was gasping for air. I gave myself a few slippery rubs as the orgasm of my life slowly left me.

I came back to consciousness slowly, and kind of sheepishly realized that I was lying naked on the dryer, my legs spread wide for anybody to see if they walked in. I sat up and slid down. I gave it a little pat on its top and whispered, “Thank you. For our first time we did pretty good.” I giggled at my little joke as I gathered the cum-soaked towels and my cum-soaked panties and threw them into the washer.

Funny thing was, as hard as I’d just cum, the mental picture I’d formed of my Dad all naked and hard wouldn’t leave me. The sight of Dad’s tool had taken hold of my brain with a surprising grip. My mouth was still watering, my pussy was still fantasizing, and my legs were still weak. I pulled on my jeans and padded barefoot through the house to my room, my brain still consumed with desire to see Dad’s dripping hard thing. I wanted to see him bare so badly that I wasn’t sure just what I was going to do.

Next – Nikki’s curiosity becomes even stronger, and she gets herself backed into a corner………….

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