Lucy lived a quiet life, simple and typical of a young girl in the French countryside during 1860. Sighing, Lucy set down her needlework and went outside her father's tiny cottage, looking at the flowers. How beautiful they were as they reached toward the sun on this early spring day! She would have to pick some of the budding blooms for Papa later.
She smiled, leaning down and smelling some of the daffodils. Her Papa was her dearest friend. Indeed, her only friend. They lived miles away from anyone else, and only saw people when they travelled into town for supplies. Her mother had died almost exactly eighteen years ago, giving birth to Lucy.
Sighing, Lucy felt a tear graze her cheek. How she wished for a mother! Lately, she was beginning to feel so lonely, and had no idea why. Honestly, she should be just as happy as ever, nothing had changed. But now that her dresses were growing tighter and she needed to wear a corset, and Papa said she could no longer sit on his lap, things had begun to change. She longed for people in a way she had never thought of before, and had no idea of the cause. No one told her anything! It really was a pity being such a sheltered girl.
Tonight would be especially lonely, because Papa had gone into town by himself for food and cloth for her to make a new dress with. She did hope he would buy the right color; he was not good at things like that. She dreaded spending the night alone; it was ever so dark and lonesome in the cottage at night. Drawing her shawl around herself to guard against the evening chill, Lucy went inside and locked the door just as Papa instructed, and latched the shutters. She made a fire and heated herself a humble dinner, and yet again found herself ever so lonely.
Lucy readied herself for bed, undressing in front of her full length mirror. She and her father were hardly wealthy, but he always gave her whatever she asked for. She slipped her chemise over her head and was reaching for her frothy, silk nightgown when she caught her reflection in the mirror.
My, had she changed in the past three years. The reflection of her large blue eyes was the same, but almost all else was different. Lucy's cheeks went red with shame as she regarded her nude form. Her skin was pale as ever, but more lustrous than before; supple and wanting to be stroked. Tentatively, she ran one of her hands over the smooth skin of her stomach, shivering even at the gentle touch. The blush on her cheeks grew even more profound as she brushed her long blond locks off her shoulders and, with a shaking hand, stroked one of her breasts, small but expressive. She gasped at the sensation, and watched as her nipple seemed to grow more attentive. She was beautiful, wasn't she? She'd never thought of it before.
A bird called right outside the window, making Lucy jump.
"Shameful girl," she chided herself, pulling her nightgown over her head. "How dare you look at yourself that way...!"
Crawling into bed, Lucy found she was not at all tired. She lay awake, staring at the ceiling and listening as the clock chimed once, twice, twelve times. Her heart was beating erratically, alert and excited by this new realization that she was beautiful. Beautiful girls were never lonely, were they? She had no reason to be. Her lack of information irked her, and she tossed and turned as she tried to think of a way to remedy her situation. She could ask Papa to tell her more, yes, tell her things a mother would, but he would not be home until morning, and she had never felt so impatient in her life.
Suddenly she sat up, eyes bright. Quickly, Lucy lit a candle, remembered Papa's private library. He had two large bookshelves in his bedroom, which she was never allowed in.
"My beautiful Lucy," he told her several times when she was younger. "There are things in those books that are not meant for a young girls' eyes. They are too mature, too worldly. I would not want to spoil your purity with those kinds of words!"
He had not mentioned those books in a long time, but he had only instructed her that young girls should not see them. Lucy was practically a woman, was she not? They surely would tell her the things her mother would have! Anyway, Papa had regarded her as grown up several times lately. She'd caught him looking at her in the morning light, when she was still in her nightgown.
"Isn't that a little... sheer for a young lady?" he'd ask, growing red.
"Papa, it's just you and I," she'd say, puzzled and giving him a kiss. There was no reason to cover herself; she she did not know of such relations between and man and a woman.
If he'd acknowledged that she was grown, then it was surely time! Lucy scampered out of bed, shivering in the evening air. Her nightgown had tiny straps like strings, and exposed most of her chest and back, as well as her arms.
Her stomach twisted in anticipation when she entered her father's room, not bothering to close the door all the way. She held her breath for a minute, enjoying the heavy beating of her heart and the knowledge that she was completely alone. First, she looked about the room, and smiled. It smelt of her father, and she was reminded of how much he meant to her. How she missed him! Her heart ached for his return. Only one more night, Lucy, she told herself. He was so brilliant, and cared for her so. She'd trust him with her life, her Papa. He was so good to her.
His room was decorated with dark woods, and had a large bed with blood red velvet curtains, hanging open. It looked so warm and protective. How it fit him! She could imagine him retiring, after a long day working on their land for their food, exhausted, the muscles of his chest hard and tight. His large, strong arms, perfect for protecting her.
"Papa," she murmured, missing him so.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Lucy went over to the bookshelf. The books were bound in leather, and had no titles written on the fronts. No idea where to start, Lucy picked one off at random and carried to the bed with her. Curling up, she began to read.
Oh, how her sights were expanded! Those words... and pictures too!
Lucy shut the book as soon as she realized what it was talking about.
A man, a young woman, and he was watching her undress! Touching her, kissing her... licking her in her private place. Lucy's face was brilliantly red. Did her father really read this? Maybe it was a mistake?
She went back to the bookshelf. Surely people did not really do this? She picked up three more books, and flipped through them. More about men kissing the women in their private places, women taking the men in their mouths, and even a book with pictures of men and women doing something that required the man lay on top of the woman.
She furrowed her brows, trying not to judge her father. If Papa enjoys reading about these dirty things, then I will surely not be angry with him. He knows so much more than I, Lucy thought. If Papa was interested in something like that, then it must surely be all right. She should be interested too.
I'll try one more book, Lucy thought, and went to the other shelf. Her eyes landed on a very battered copy, clearly well-used. She flipped through the yellowed pages, finding the passage that the book had been opened to the most- the spine was weakened there.
She took it to bed with her, and began to read. Before the end of the page, she knew this interested her far more. It was about a young girl and her father, and how much he loved her. Lucy definitely understood that! She smiled, understanding why her father must have read this one many times. He cared for her so! She continued to read as the father realized his daughter was late coming back from her walk. He went out and found that she had been lost in the woods, and he took her back home. The poor girl was freezing, and he undressed her and ran her a hot bath.
Lucy continued to read as the father ran his hands over his daughter's body, and then lifted her out of the tub, kissing her. She blushed as he began to touch his daughter, but continued to read. Her breasts ached when the book talked of the father touching the girl's breasts, Lucy's nipples tingling. The father began to lay the girl down and kiss her all over her body, causing Lucy to feel heat between her legs. She had no idea what to do about that, and continued to read. The father began to kiss his daughter's private place, and Lucy began to understand why people did that- the girl seemed to enjoy it very much, grasping at her Papa's hair and drawing him in closer.
Papa has obviously read this many times, Lucy reasoned. And it seems to be something the people in the book enjoy doing... why have we not done this, if this is something a loving father does for his daughter?
Jack was exhausted as he entered his cottage. He had not planned to be home until morning, but at the first chance he got he jumped on a carriage to return home to his Lucy. He missed her far too much when he was away, and also worried about her all alone in this isolation. The girl was so beautiful, and he could easily imagine her being corrupted by some philandering youth.
He almost growled at the prospect of another man laying his hands on his Lucy. She was his, forever, he would never let another man touch her or upset her purity. He smiled, imagining a beautiful life with his Lucy forever, the two living in peaceful companionship forever. His beautiful daughter and her, her protector.
A smile on his lips, Jack ascended the stairs, trying to be quiet as he walked so as not to wake Lucy. She would surely be sleeping, delicate little thing that she was. It became immediately apparent, however, that someone was awake. Candlelight flickered from the slight opening of the door to his bedroom.
Suspicion occurred immediately-what if someone was in the house, ravishing his Lucy? He almost burst right in, but resigned to be quiet about it. What if the intruder had a weapon of some kind and hurt Lucy? He would have to sneak up on the brute.
Jack quietly peered into the room, and was calmed by what he saw. Lucy, alone! There was so sign of any man. Once he realized this, he looked at the rest of the scene, and his jaw dropped.
Lucy was reading his private books. Four of them were stacked around her on the bed, and a fifth one was on her lap, deeply engrossing her.
He began to panic. He forbid her from reading those because he just knew that her pure nature would be disrupted. She would never forgive him for reading such sinful material! She was too sweet, too pure! She would not be able to stand having such a naughty father.
When his eyes caught the cover of the book Lucy was currently reading, his heart almost stopped. It was his favorite publication, about the incestual relationship between a father and his teenaged daughter. He had others as such, but the relationship between the father and daughter reminded him most of, well...
It was his favorite.
Jack was frantically worrying about what to say to explain away the situation, when he looked once more at Lucy. His eyes narrowed- her chest and upper arms were very flushed, and her eyes were wide. Instinctually, his manhood stirred within his trousers. He knew that look, but could not believe it. A woman aroused.
His Lucy was aroused... It made his mouth hang open, and his eyes widen. Everything went still for a moment. Lucy was aroused... he had never seen anything so beautiful. Jack continued to watch this erotic and forbidden scene, his hardness growing more so by the second as he marveled his golden-haired angel discovering her womanhood.
Had she read this material before? He doubted it. Her eyes were moving frantically across the page, as if desperate for each word. Her breath was coming fast, and Jack noticed that she had the not-so-faint impressions of erect nipples pressing against her thin nightgown. His manhood was as stiff as it had ever been now, and he felt it throb painfully, demanding to thrust into this beautiful girl before him.
His Lucy... how could he betray her as such?
His breath caught- Lucy began to unbutton her nightgown, blushing furiously as she did so. He forgot his moral dilemma for the moment, as he could only look at her. She only unbuttoned it as far as her navel, but it was far enough. She lay back and sighed, touching her stomach softly. Jack's heart was beating so hard he thought she might be able to hear it. His eyes could not open far enough as he observed the show before him, as the dainty girl explored her untouched body. His mouth was hanging open, and he found his mind screaming: Open your nightgown, darling Lucy... show me your breasts! Show me, dear daughter, I long for nothing else!
She did. The white silk at last was parted, and he was rewarded with the sight of her small, girlish breasts, milk-white except for the pink perk nipples, which stood straight up. She ran her fingers over them, and jumped, shocked by the potency of the sensation.
"Oh," she moaned softly, and Jack almost came.
There is nothing more beautiful than the awakening female sexuality, he thought to himself, admiring the girl before him as she experienced her first sensations of pleasuring herself.
His daughter... she was his daughter! How could he betray her? How could he think of her sexually? Could he truly sit here and watch, enjoying the sight like she was a cheap whore?
No- he would not enjoy it like she was a whore. He would enjoy it for the pure angel she was, the eighteen-year-old beauty laying on his bed, the sexual girl he had created out of his own flesh and blood. Lucy unbuttoned the rest of her nightgown, and he could no longer fight his impulses- he had to watch. He had no choice.
Her girlish thighs parted, and her pink rose of a maidenhood was exposed. Jack felt the blood in his ears, but nothing compared to what was going on below his belt.
She ran her hands over herself further, until she gave another little moan and began to stroke herself.
Jack broke- he unbuttoned his trousers and wrapped his hand around his hot, stiff cock. His eyes closed momentarily at the stimulation, but as soon as he had himself under control he opened them, so as not to miss anything. His baby daughter, his one and only girl, was masturbating on his bed and he could not control himself.
Lucy obviously had little experience with this, but it was clear how aroused she was. Tiny, wet noises came from her cunt as she moved her fingers about it, which were soon coated in her sweet, female arousal. Jack stroked himself, in awe at this beautiful sight, terrified that he would make a noise and lest make her stop.
Please, dear God, don't stop, he prayed as Lucy found her clitoris for the first time. What a blessed moment it was!
"Oh!" she cried, her voice caught deep in her throat, eyes widening in amazement. Her neck was very red from arousal now. Her hips began to move against her hand, and she began to let out tiny feminine whimpers. Jack so longed to touch her, but not tonight. Tonight he would watch, and enjoy this glimpse of her first sexual experience, completely unaware that another was observing her sinful act.
Her whimpers turned to desperate, womanly moans, and she began to toss her head back and forth, her blond locks growing very disheveled.
"Oh God... Oh God! Touch me, please..." she moaned loudly, as Jack felt himself began to pulse. He was so close... he's never been this aroused, and all because of his daughter, his beautiful Lucy.
Her hips bucked against her hand, and her mouth drew itself into an 'O,' her brow furrowed, her breathing ragged. She was reduced to an utterly animalistic, sex-driven slut... and nothing was more arousing to him.
"Lucy," he breathed, desperate to acknowledge that this beauty was indeed his daughter, masturbating to his own incest fantasies...
Confirming his wish, she let out a desperate cry. "Papa!" Her back arched and she rose off the bed, her entire body tensing at the same time as her father's. Finally, agonizingly slow and yet all too fast, she collapsed, completely out of breath. A moment later, Jack came, tensing his throat so he would not cry out. It was so intense that he instantly had a very painful headache; an orgasm like that demanded hard thrusts into a prone girl, grunts and yells... not a whispered sigh. But tonight, that was what he would have to settle for.
He grasped the door frame, and stayed there for a moment, knowing he had only a short time before Lucy would discover him. He caught his breath, and quietly as he had come, descended the stairs, unable to shake the image of his beautiful girl, naked and asleep on his bed.