A Daughter's Lust, Revealed

This is the second of three parts in the "A Daughter's Lust" short series.

This is the father/daughter version of a set of the original "It Doesn't Count" series of three-part stories. All are basically the same with slightly different character relationships. "It Doesn't Count" involves a brother and sister, "A Mother's Lust" involves a mother and son, "It Doesn't Matter" involves an older woman and her daughter's young ex-boyfriend, while "It Shouldn't Matter" involves a young woman and her younger sister's ex-boyfriend. You can read any or all of them, according to your tastes, but the vast majority of all parts of all stories are the same.

-- The Author

*

Amy stared at the ceiling, bothered by a strand of dust that had seemingly grown overnight in the corner of her bedroom. She'd have to get the broom out tomorrow.

She snapped back to what she was doing, or what she was supposed to be doing, with the sudden realization that she was so utterly bored by Matt that she thought about housekeeping as he fucked her. They'd only been dating for five weeks, and she was already that bored. He lay on her, and between her, and inside of her, thrusting away, while Amy stared at the ceiling noticing bothersome cobwebs.

Amy made a concerted effort to focus on Matt. She let her fingers trace the contours of his shoulder blades. She let her hands drift down to his ass, where she halfheartedly pulled him further inside her. She let her lips nibble on his ears and neck.

She quickly admitted to herself that this wasn't doing anything for her. She easily let herself do as she'd done for the past several weeks, almost since she and Matt had started sleeping together.

She thought about her father.

Amy closed her eyes, and instantly it was her father on top of her, and her father inside of her. Amy soon came alive, unconsciously stroking Matt's back and moving her own hips in time with his, helping him to find her own rhythm, and to penetrate her more deeply. A low moan escaped her lips. Her breathing quickened. In response, Matt quickened his thrusts as well, either for his own pleasure, or mistakenly thinking that he was having some effect on Amy.

Matt began to kiss her. Amy hated the way Matt kissed, and because of that she couldn't even pretend that it was her father kissing her. Daddy had to kiss better than Matt did, but she had no way of knowing, because she and Daddy had never kissed, at least not like that, not passionately. Her father had never given her anything more than a parental peck on the lips. She had to imagine what it would be like, but she couldn't with Matt's mouth on her own. It ruined the moment for her. She twisted her head to the side in frustration, seemingly in an act of uncontrolled passion, ripping her mouth away from his.

"Oh, baby," Amy whispered ambiguously. "Fuck me, baby, fuck me like only you can."

Matt redoubled his efforts as Amy pictured her daddy. She imagined that it was his breath panting on her neck, his chest crushing her breasts between them, and his ass cheeks withstanding the raking tear of her fingernails. Her screams became louder, matching the rhythms of her body's lust.

"Oh, baby, oh, yes, fuck me Da..."

Amy caught herself, she hoped in time.

"Deeper," she recovered. "Fuck me deeper, baby."

Matt began to groan. Amy wickedly heard her powerful father groaning in his place. She felt her father's strong hands suddenly tighten on her shoulders, using them for leverage to force himself more deeply inside of her. She felt her father's mouth open passionately against her neck, bathing it in hot, wet kisses. And she screamed with him as she came, soon after she felt his cock stiffen and surge inside of her, imagining that it was her darling, sweet, caring father ferociously pumping her full of cum.

She didn't trust many men. The few she'd had had always hurt her. The only man she could really trust was her father. He was always there for her. He had always, always helped her, even when he'd punished her. She could count on him all the time, no matter what. He was a man he could trust with anything, especially her body. She could take him into her so easily, without any fear or inhibitions.

In moments, her daddy had brought her to orgasm, just as he had many weeks ago. He'd done it then, and now, without once touching her, although at least that first time they'd been in the same room together. He'd then gone on to do it almost every time she'd been fucked by Matt. Her father had never laid a finger on her in all of her life, and yet he had given her more orgasms, and more powerful orgasms, than any other man, ever.

Amy stared at the ceiling, this time seeing absolutely nothing, but wishing she were somewhere else, anywhere else, with Daddy.

* * *

In the weeks after her father and Amy had pantomimed sleeping together, when Amy had made her daddy come simply by brushing his cock with her long hair, nothing more, Amy had gone on to create a twisted but harmless game out of teasing him. She flirted with him shamelessly. She dressed provocatively. She was constantly almost touching him, or almost kissing him, or almost hugging him, just as they had that night in bed together. She called him "lover" and "baby" and "honey", and any other sweetheart's pet name she could think of.

He grumbled about it occasionally, but at worst he took it well, and Amy knew that in fact he really liked it. He even seemed to get a little angry when she didn't play the game. Sometimes she did that, she just treated him like her father, to get him jealous. It made her feel warm to know he was jealous, and hungry enough for her attention to let her frustrate him so easily.

And he had stopped dating other women.

* * *

Don had Megan on her stomach beneath him. He propped himself up on his arms, staring at the curves of her smooth, round ass, as he slowly and patiently slipped his cock in and out of her tight, slippery cunt. He'd taken to bedding only young blonds lately, preferably straight haired, young blonds. By fucking them from behind, like this, with their faces in the pillow, he could easily imagine that his lovers were actually his daughter Amy.

He focused on the feel of Megan's cunt around his cock. In moments, all that existed were his stiff, engorged prick and the warm, moist feeling of the soft, enveloping, living walls of her cunt. Except it wasn't Megan's cunt Don felt, it was Amy's. Don would gently move his hips forward and back, trying to subtly increase the strength of the sensations along the length of his shaft. It felt best when he could push himself all the way in, so her hot cunt smothered his cock completely to the base, and he felt entirely consumed by her. He could hold himself there, enjoying the encompassing, drenching warmth, and enjoying the fantasy of both completely filling and being embraced by his daughter's delicious cunt.

It couldn't last, though. Don stayed calmly deep inside of her, but as the sensations grew less intense, Don had to pull himself slowly out, savoring the feeling of Megan's cunt as it tugged on the skin of his prick and the rim around the head of his prick. Once he'd withdrawn far enough, as far as he could stand, he'd reverse and teasingly ease his way back in, enjoying both the friction and the growing warmth as her cunt took his entire cock again, inch by satisfying inch.

Megan began to squeal in a breathy, high pitched voice.

"Faster, Don, faster, fuck me faster. Please, faster.".

Don ignored her for a long while, trying to lose himself in his dream of having his cock in his own daughter. He resented the intrusion Megan's pleas brought, the reminder in the sound of her voice that she wasn't Amy, she was just Megan.

Finally, when he knew there was no other way, Don completely changed his mood. He abruptly rammed himself into Megan as hard and deep as he could, as quickly as he could, so that her pleas soon changed to unintelligible screams as she clenched the pillow with her hands and wailed at the headboard.

It was easy enough then for Don to imagine that her wordless sounds were Amy's, and that his daughter was coming violently for him. Don hammered her that much harder in response to his thoughts, then tried as intently as he could not to come, to make it last, both for himself and for Amy.

He felt a pang of guilt as he fucked her, in imagining his daughter. He was supposed to protect her. She meant everything to him. There was no way he could ever do this with her. He wanted to, he'd never experienced anything as exciting as this. But she trusted him. He had another role to play. He was her father. She need him as a father.

But she was also a beautiful woman. She'd grown into something amazing before his eyes. She had a sex appeal that defied words, or thoughts, or feelings. It was embarrassing, but his lust for her overwhelmed everything else. Added to his love for her, it was irresistible.

Don once again imagined that it was Amy's sweet little ass beneath him. He imagined that the squeals he heard were Amy's, loving every moment of every inch of cock that he was giving her.

Eventually, he couldn't hold back. He remembered the look on Amy's face as she had violently whipped her hair around above him, when pretending to straddle and ride him, with her fingers buried in her beautiful golden cunt as she pumped herself vigorously toward climax. He remembered the angelic smile she wore as she came for him. With that image in his mind, and Megan's screams changed to Amy's in his own ears, he lost control, pumping his lover full of cum, emptying himself into her with complete abandon, emptying himself in his mind into his loving baby daughter.

"Did you like that, beautiful?" he whispered into her ear as he lay on her, panting and sweating and recovering. "Did you like the way I fucked you?"

"Mm hm," Megan replied, wordlessly, and again Don could easily imagine it was Amy.

He rolled off of Megan onto his back, to stare at the ceiling as she maneuvered herself under his arm and onto his chest to snuggle. He kissed the top of her head, but held his breath as he did so, because her hair didn't smell at all like Amy's.

* * *

"Okay, here's the first one. Now don't be too critical, okay? If you don't like it, you can say so, but don't give me all the gory details about why it looks bad on me."

Don rolled his eyes. Of course he'd tell her she looked great in it, partly because she couldn't take hearing anything else, but mostly because she would look great in it. Don wasn't quite sure why she suddenly needed help in picking favorite outfits to wear for her new boyfriend, but watching Amy model clothes was probably way up there in his top ten list of things to do. She was, as he'd always proudly known, a knockout.

Amy stepped out of the short hallway wearing a sheer black baby doll, with high heels. It was more than sheer. It was almost like wearing nothing. It was open up the middle, too, tied only loosely at the bust by a single, narrow, white satin ribbon. The bare insides and undersides of her breasts were clearly visible, while the remaining outlines of her breasts and her nipples showed starkly through the fabric.

Don sat up straighter. She hadn't told him she was modeling lingerie. If he'd known he was'nt entirely sure that he would have agreed. He liked to think that he would have refused. For now, he stared.

* * *

Amy watched her daddy's eyes cruise from head to toe and up again. Once he'd taken her in, she spun around and then stopped, facing away from him with her feet together and her bare ass thrust back towards him. She smiled coyly over her shoulder.

"Well? Do you like it?"

She could tell that he did. He was virtually squirming in his chair, trying to fight down a growing erection. Amy imagined that she could see beads of sweat forming on his brow.

"That one's nice," was all he could get out.

Amy grinned, knowing that he wanted to say a lot more, and was thinking even more than that.

"Okay, this isn't so much of a hit. Let me try something hotter," she said.

Amy walked as slowly and as erotically out of the room as she could, making sure that her father got a thorough eyeful before she vanished to change into something even better.

* * *

By the fourth outfit, Don was sure that he was going to die, or maybe already had died. The second had been white, full body length, and flowed loosely around her like a mist. It was even more sheer than the first, letting him clearly see her nipples and pubic hairs, and every delightful curve and contour of her body. His daughter had made quite a show of standing in front of the windows, spreading her legs, letting the sunshine silhouette her body with an achingly inviting gap clearly visible between her thighs.

The third was a full body suit, neck to ankles, that hugged her every curve, also black, and also very sheer. It was so confining that it seemed to squeeze her breasts against her chest, yet in so doing it incongruously made them look even larger than they were. It had openings at the crotch, where her gorgeous blond pubic hairs stood out, and at the nipples, which were embarrassingly erect.

Don actually had to fight to keep from automatically shielding his eyes in modesty. By now, he'd given up on hiding his erection. Amy's eyes constantly strayed to his crotch, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on him.

The fourth outfit was definitely the show stopper. It was a scarlet red satin corset, with garters and matching red fishnet stockings, but she wore no panties. The corset was really almost not there, it was so short. It began well above her belly button, and stopped below the breasts, so they flowed out and over it in their full, natural, unrestrained form as temptingly large, firm, round globes. She spun for him again, giving him a clear view of her bare, sweet ass, then she turned back, as she lifted her hair seductively with her hands, coincidentally bringing her firm breasts up, thrusting her hard, pointed nipples even more prominently toward him. Don admired the delightful peaks of her tits, where her breasts changed from inviting round, fleshy balls to even more inviting, mouth watering cones.

"You like this one best, don't you?" Amy asked, adopting a sweet little half pout.

Don couldn't even answer her.

* * *

Amy stood there as her daddy made a quick excuse to leave. He was so cute when he got flustered.

Amy, for herself, could still feel her heart pounding in her chest as she went to change out of the lingerie. She could still feel the blood pulsing in her ears, and had been so conscious of it that she thought that her father must have been aware of it, too. She wanted him to be. She wanted him to know how much modeling for him had excited her.

She'd been tempted to walk over to him, to place his hand on her heart, so he could feel it for himself. She thought about it. Not on her breasts, but between them, on her heart, although she wouldn't have minded if he'd let his hands wander from there. Amy's hand drifted down to her own pussy, feeling how wet she'd become, trying to appease the burning need she felt there.

Amy shook her head, to clear it of all of her lustful thoughts. She'd had her fun. It was time to get ready for her date with Matt.

Which she would do, after she lay on the bed and thought about her father for a while longer.

* * *

"I'm sorry, I really am," Matt said, turning to avoid the sight of Amy's tears. "I didn't mean for things to work out this way. I didn't know I still had feelings for her."

"You son of a bitch!" Amy screamed at him. "Don't you dare say that to me. It's only been six weeks. Six weeks! You didn't know? How could you possibly not know?"

"Amy, please..."

"How could you not know? Shit. Just get out. Shit. 'I still have feelings for her.' Get out. Leave."

Matt held Amy's glare for a long heartbeat, then sighed and seemingly gratefully beat a coward's retreat. She'd let him off easy by throwing him out so quickly, she thought. She should have made him stay and squirm.

Amy wiped her eyes, wondering why she was bothering to cry. She was just about ready to break up with him, anyway. It just felt so good to have a boyfriend for a change. Not necessarily him, just a boyfriend. When he came along, she'd quickly dropped her silly game with her father, and had a real lover. For a few weeks, everything had been fantastic. She had someone to call, someone to think about, someone to vent to, and someone to sleep with.

Her father hadn't seemed to mind too much. He had been happy for her, and seemed relieved to be able to start dating, and fucking, every girl he could get, which was pretty much any girl he wanted. Even then, Amy watched him with a touch of jealousy, especially since he'd started dating only blonds, like her. It seemed like every blond in the world was getting a turn with Daddy, except for her.

It didn't take long, though, for she and Matt to settle into a banal routine. Suddenly they didn't see each other as much. He didn't stay over every night. They only had sex when they slept together, never other times, never spontaneously. Apparently, Amy realized now, Matt had already started seeing his old girlfriend on the side. Even later, when it should have been obvious, Amy hadn't noticed.

Probably because she'd been so focused on Daddy.

Her father had said that Matt was good for her, even if he was a bit too old, and he was happy for her, but she could see the disappointment in his face when he saw them together. Amy and her father both knew that they could never take their game any further, that they'd already gone further than a father and his daughter should ever go. But Amy loved him, in a way she'd never realized, and never should. She was irresistibly attracted to him. Amy thought he felt the same way, and she was sure that her father was hoping they might lose control and take things further the next time.

In all honesty, Amy had been hoping so, too.

So Matt had come along at just the right time. He was what they both needed to help them to separate and clear their heads, and their hearts. Now things had changed again, and Amy had to think about things more seriously. Another man had hurt her again. it seemed that the only man she could trust was Daddy.

* * *

"No, Princess, I really have it this time. You said you were short of cash this week," her father said, snatching the check before Amy could reach it.

"I'll get by, Daddy. My next pay check comes tomorrow. Please, let me pay, Daddy. Please."

Her father stared at her.

"Please, baby?" she said, trying to return to their game. It felt awkward, and she thought it showed on her face, and she thought that he thought so, too.

"I asked you to lunch, it's a date, and I'm paying," her father told her, but bashfully, without maintaining eye contact.

Amy smiled. So he wanted to play the game again, too. He was usually so self confident, but when he wasn't he could be so cute.

"Okay, sweetie," she answered. "But don't think I'm putting out again. It will take a little more romance than a simple lunch to get me into bed again."

He looked her square in the eye, with that same stern, masked expression he wore so often. For a moment, Amy thought she'd gone too far, too fast. She had to learn to be more subtle, she thought, even with Daddy. Especially with Daddy.

"You'll be like every other girl I date, Amy. You're dying to get into bed with me, and you'll do it the first chance I give you."

Amy laughed uneasily. He'd caught her off guard with his own aggressive candor. And they both knew it was true, every word. Her father was just too good looking, and too mouth wateringly sexy. The broad shoulders capped with a head of sandy blond hair over a well chiseled jaw made most women's heads turn. The light layer of scruff he kept on his face made him look like a rogue, and it made them wet. At least, it made Amy wet. And his golden brown eyes and his bright smile melted them all, especially Amy.