A Daughter's Lust, Revealed

When Amy hesitated, her father smiled at her, and she melted on cue.

"Just teasing, Princess," he said, while laying a few bills on the table. "That should cover it. Let's go, I've got a ridiculously boring planning meeting in a few hours, and I have to prepare. I have no idea what I was thinking when I volunteered to head up this project."

* * *

Amy looked over at her father's hand on her shoulder as they left the movie theater. It was nice of him to take her out, to help her to get over Matt. It kept her from moping, even if it was only a charade date with her father, their sixth since she'd been dumped, with as many lunches thrown in.

Walking arm in arm with him, like this, felt so natural. She felt so very sheltered and protected by his body. It was as if she could curl up inside him and nothing bad would ever, ever get to her. It felt so warm and relaxing. For a moment, too, she felt like she was returning something to him, making him feel good. She was giving some pleasure back to the man that had given everything to her.

It really felt like they were lovers, even if they never could be. Still, the game they were playing was a wonderful escape, except for the complete lack of sex.

That part was starting to hurt. At least before, when she'd had Matt, she could feel a cock ravishing her and pretend that it was her daddy's. Now she couldn't even do that. She only had her own fingers, and memories.

* * *

Don watched Amy glance over at his hand on her shoulder. He should take it away, he thought. They were playing at this too much, and Amy was starting to take it too seriously. At first, it was just an easy way to lighten her mood, to help her get over the surprise of being dumped. And after that first amazing experience they'd shared, that one night of forbidden and yet still un-sated lust, it just seemed to fit, with the two of them pretending to be dating, tentative lovers every once in a while.

If only she weren't so damn gorgeous, Don thought to himself. He knew they looked like the perfect couple together, despite the age difference, or maybe because of it. She fit under his arm just right. He glanced down, watching her tantalizing breasts jiggle gently as they walked. She'd opened her blouse so that he could see where her bare flesh disappeared under her bra. She'd said she felt uncomfortably hot. He knew she'd done it for him.

Don let his hand mischievously coast down her arm, then find the outside of her hip and rise back up to just trace and graze the curve of her narrow waist and side and torso, until he felt the strap of her bra, before returning his hand to where it belonged. Her curves felt so good. Don wished he could find a way to discreetly touch her and look at her, both at once.

He turned his head, tipping it down, to smell her hair, taking in her pleasant, comforting scent. He remembered refusing to smell Megan's hair, that last night that he'd slept with her. The memory made him stiffen, suddenly uneasy.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Amy asked, sensing his abrupt tension.

"Nothing. Princess."

"Don't call me 'Princess', honey," she said.

"Why not?" Don asked. "I always have."

It was time to end the game, he'd decided abruptly. They were both getting too involved. He had to find Amy another boyfriend, a real boyfriend, and one that wasn't going to hurt her the way Matt had. One closer to her own age. He had to stop imagining himself with his own daughter, for his own pleasure, and look out for her the way he was supposed to.

She didn't bite. She didn't answer him. She didn't let the conversation continue. She just leaned more snugly into him, while unexpectedly moving one hand to rub his abdomen. It felt uncomfortably familiar and sexual. He should have pushed her hand away, but he liked it too much. He felt like dirt for not pushing it away. He was her father. He needed to act like it.

Okay, he'd play along some more tonight, he thought. But he'd start dating again, and stop seeing Amy for more than an odd lunch here and there.

* * *

Don felt his cell phone vibrate for the third time. He'd completely ignored the first two calls. He took a sip of his beer, glancing around the dark bar briefly. He didn't look for too long. He kept his attention on the young girl, Sara. She looked so much like Amy it was almost unsettling. She seemed to be almost exactly the same age, too. If he could get her back to his place, he wouldn't even make her lay face down. She was the perfect Amy doll, a great first step in separating himself from dating his own daughter.

His phone vibrated again. He bothered to at least look at the display this time, and saw it was Amy. He reluctantly excused himself to drift into a more quiet corner to answer it.

"Amy, I'm out at a bar. What's going on?"

"My sink is badly clogged, and it's making me crazy."

"Talk up. A sink? You must be kidding. So what can I do about it? Can't it wait?"

"No. I don't want to go out tonight, I want to stay in and cook something. And it's gross. And it's Friday. The building engineer won't be around to fix it until Monday. Please? Just come over real quick? Please?"

Don looked at Sara. She was staring over at him. When he looked at her she quickly looked away, while taking a deep breath that expanded her chest invitingly. He knew that sign. He could get her to leave with him very soon.

He was ready to say no to Amy, when he realized that he'd be dismissing his daughter to try to sleep with a girl that looked like his daughter. Somehow, that seemed just too twisted. He was just acting out his own mid-life crisis, he abruptly realized. He was being a child, an irresponsible fifty-five year old child.

He gritted his teeth unconsciously as he wrestled with everything. He'd been letting his cock lead him around for weeks, at his daughter's expense. It was time to be a proper father.

"Okay, okay. I'm not far away. I'll be over in a minute. It better not take long."

Don apologized to Sara, and begged her to wait there for him, then headed out to help Amy.

* * *

Amy lay nervously on her bed, naked, wondering if she was making a big mistake. She and Daddy had only been "dating" for three weeks now. Daddy hadn't seen another girl once in that time, as far as she knew. She'd even heard him blow some of them off when they called. Some girl named Megan seem particularly anxious, and frustrated. She obviously knew what she'd been missing.

Amy wondered wistfully what she herself had been missing.

But her father had to be ready to explode by this point. After three weeks of celibacy and constant teasing, he couldn't possibly resist taking things a step further now.

She checked the bonds one more time. Tying her ankles to the bedposts had been easy. She'd used pantyhose. For fun, she'd used four different bright colors; red, blue, yellow and purple. She first tied each of the four pairs of hose to the feet of the bed at all four corners. Then she climbed up on the bed and tied each of her ankles, with the yellow and purple, as tightly as she could, so her legs were spread wide. It was hard to move them much at all.

Tying her left wrist with the blue hose had been more difficult, but after many frustrating tries she did it adequately with her free hand. For her right wrist, she'd tied a loose knot ahead of time with the red hose, with a big loop, before she'd tied the left. Then it was just a matter of slipping her wrist into the loop and pulling it taught.

She wasn't quite as well confined as she wanted to be, but it was good enough, or so she hoped.

Now there was nothing to do but to wait for Daddy.

Amy started having doubts. What if he didn't want to go through with this? Maybe she should have tried to get him drunk, first, or at least talked about it. Hopefully, he'd had at least a few at the bar.

Amy wanted this more than anything right now.

* * *

"Amy?" Don called as he stepped into the dark apartment.

The only light was in her bedroom, so he turned the corner into the short hall to check for her there.

Don stopped abruptly, in shock. His daughter lay before him, entirely naked, with her arms and legs stretched out, spread-eagled in an "X", tied to the four corners of the bed with brightly colored, sheer fabric. Her beautiful golden cunt stared straight at him. It was the very first thing his eyes were drawn to. He struggled to look away, taking in her entire form instead.

Her breasts, firm, rounded cones, pointed straight up at the ceiling like the pyramids of Egypt, heaving from her deep, slow breaths. He could see her nipples clearly. Their color almost matched her pale skin, being just a delicate shade pinker and darker. They looked frighteningly hard and erect, as hard as he suddenly realized his cock was becoming.

Amy whimpered as she writhed around, seemingly trying to get free, but not trying very hard. Don stood entranced by the motions of her body, squirming everywhere, with muscles tightening and relaxing, and her head tossing occasionally from one side to the other, whipping her hair about. Strands of straight blond hair fell wildly across her eyes and mouth.

* * *

Amy put on as much of a show for her daddy as she could. If nothing else, even if he panicked and rejected her, she wanted him to enjoy the sight of her body. She wanted to give him something to remember, something that would give him fits as he tried to fall asleep.

She belatedly wished that she'd worn some of her lingerie for him, something sheer, and inviting, and painfully naughty.

He just stood there in the doorway, staring at her body. She stared anxiously at his eyes, trying to adopt the same intense expression that he always wore so easily.

"I had to do this, Daddy," she finally said. Her tone was even, with just a hint of tremble, from true nervousness. She had wanted to make her voice breathy and frantic, but was afraid that it would sound corny. To Amy's ears, it came out that way anyway.

"I had to tie myself up, to keep from touching you this time."

Amy tensed as she waited for his response, then forced herself to relax. She closed her eyes, waiting for her father to tell her to stop it, or to just untie her, or even simply turn and leave her helpless. She couldn't look at him. In her head, she could even hear the stern, reprimanding tone in his voice already.

He stood there, at the foot of her bed, staring at her for what seemed like an eternity. After a while, Amy couldn't resist. She half opened her eyes, peering at her father through surreptitious slits.

Her father began unbuckling his belt.

* * *

This was so wrong. This was his sweet little girl. He'd raised her, taught her to ride a bike, put her on the school bus, driven her on her first date. He'd sized up her boyfriends, giving them a fatherly scowl to try to frighten them into keeping their hands off of her.

Now he wanted to put his own hands on her. He felt awful. He felt like he was betraying her, the little girl that he loved most in the whole world. Yet he couldn't stop himself. She was a little girl once, but now she was a woman. His body screamed that at him, from deep inside. It screamed at him to give her the sort of pleasure that only a man could give to her.

Don tried to take it slow, to be the one in complete control in the room, to still be her father, even as he prepared to do something very un-fatherly. He forced himself to patiently undo his belt, and his zipper, before kicking off his shoes and lowering his pants. When he took his shirt off, he threw it at Amy. It landed on her precious tits and her face, startling her. She laughed softly into the cloth.

He sat on the bed beside her. As he tugged his shirt off of her, he revealed that beautiful, wide, full lipped mouth, wearing a bright, satisfied smile. He continued drawing his shirt gently toward himself, watching jealously as the fabric enjoyed a light caress across her round tits, jerking slightly as it caught at and then exposed each erect nipple in turn.

Amy looked at him, her expression calm but otherwise unreadable, and he looked back at her, keeping his own face stonily serious.

"You can't fuck me, Daddy," she told him. "You can't touch me."

"I'll do whatever I want with you, Princess," he told her.

Don rose up onto his knees, towering over her, looking down at his daughter's pretty face beneath his raging, surging cock.

* * *

After months, after wasted months, his cock was finally there again. Daddy's cock was right there, so close she could touch it, if she hadn't foolishly tied herself up first. She knew now that it wasn't just part of the tease. She really did have to tie herself up, because without doing so she would be holding her father's cock in her hand right now. Amy had to squeeze her eyes shut at the thought, scolding herself, fighting back the guilt and enjoying the vivid image of the fantasy, all at once.

She felt so nervous, putting herself out there like this. Yet, the nerves were strangely subdued. He wouldn't hurt her. No matter what, she knew that he would never hurt her. She trusted him totally and completely, so much so that she could bind herself like this, remove all pretense of control from the situation, and submit totally and completely to his wishes. Whatever he did, it would be the right thing.

She trusted him completely.

She opened her eyes again, wondering what her father would read in her face. Would he see the confusion, or the fear, or the lust? She was sure that everything was written there and easy to see. It was embarrassing, but at the same time she wanted her daddy to see it all. She wanted him to sense every emotion she was feeling.

He was silent as he leaned forward, lowering his cock to within tantalizing inches of Amy's face. She watched as it grew, until it filled her vision, becoming the only thing that she could see, his cock, and his sandy brown pubic hairs, and his taught, athletic abdomen. Amy smoothly raised her head up, trying to take his cock into her mouth.

Her father jerked away. He was too quick for her.

"You're obviously not tied up well enough, you nasty little minx. I'll have to watch myself with you. Keep you out of trouble."

"You're supposed to keep you out of trouble, Daddy," she said evenly, almost as if by keeping her voice under control he might make a mistake and allow himself to get too close. "I'm your little girl. You're supposed to take care of me. Punish me, if you think you have to."

He could punish her thoroughly, she thought to herself, and she'd love it.

Her father looked at her, still stern and serious, then let his eyes leisurely coast down across her body once more. As soon as he did so, she wriggled some more for him, pretending to try to work herself free of her bonds.

He moved abruptly. Amy froze as he smoothly straddled her torso, not touching her, but balancing his stiff cock and his balls just above the steep valley between her breasts.

* * *

"You want to tit fuck me, Daddy? Is that what you want? Do you want to tit fuck your princess?"

Don felt his cock twitch and surge impulsively. The sound of her voice was exquisitely sinful. She was fucking him now even when she talked to him. He squinted his eyes shut, trying to fight back either the guilt, or his excitement, he couldn't really decide which.

"Do you want to slip that cock across your little baby's inviting titties?"

Amy inhaled, just like Sara had in the bar. Her magnificent tits rose toward Don, seeming to grow before his eyes, straining up toward his cock. The sight of it was overwhelming. Don almost fell on her then and there, abandoning all restraint and sense of conscience.

"Is that what you want, Amy? Is that all you want?"

Amy didn't reply. She just gave him a wide, close mouthed smile, as she closed her eyes and turned her head to the side.

Don focused on his cock, with her beautiful body right beneath it. Yes, he thought, he did want to tit fuck her. He'd already imagined it a few times since she was eighteen, to his own embarrassment and horror. Some of his more vulgar friends even talked openly about it, when they thought he wasn't listening. He'd accosted them then, told them to shut up, that she was his daughter, and he'd kill them if they even thought about it again. Then he went home and imagined it himself.

She was his daughter, the girl who's entire life and being he took total and complete responsibility for. It was up to him to help her, to keep her out of trouble, to protect her from men just like himself.

Deep down, though, he wanted to fuck her so badly he felt like it was going to tear him apart if he didn't.

He wished he could bring himself to actually do it.

* * *

Amy felt the bed rocking. The motion tugged alternately on her wrists and her ankles where she was bound, rhythmically, as if her whole body were a cock being moved back and forth over the mattress. She opened her eyes to see her father staring down at her as he slipped his hips, and his cock, forward and backward, within her cleavage yet without ever touching her breasts, his balls swinging back and forth like a pendulum. Amy arched her back, trying to bring them into contact. She brushed him ever so slightly before he lifted himself away.

"You slut, you're not tied down tightly enough," he told her. He slipped off of her to move around the bed, checking and tightening each of her bonds in turn, blue, purple, yellow, then red. He completely retied her right wrist to the bed post, making it considerably more taught, stretching Amy almost painfully across the mattress.

The words didn't sting at all. Her own father had called her a slut, but the word, coming so easily from his lips, hitting her ears in his familiar baritone voice, send a shot of warmth and excitement through her. He was thinking of her as a sexual being, as a woman, and a woman that needed a man. She wasn't his daughter, for now, she was a slut, a hungry, wanton slut. It was what she wanted to be, for him.

"That's still not good enough," he told her. "You can still wiggle around too much."

Amy stared at him, wondering what he'd do. For a brief moment she worried that he might not return to her now. She squirmed left and right, feeling the soft, constricting burn of the hose that bound all of her limbs.

Her fears were instantly allayed, as he climbed onto the bed to kneel beside her.

"Okay, you can't be trusted, so I can't get too close to you," he said. "But you touched yourself the last time, that was allowed, so now I get to touch myself."

With that, her father held his thick cock in one hand. He started to stroke it, right over her. Amy writhed some more, struggling to get free, knowingly giving her daddy an erotic show, as he jerked off over her. Amy moaned and pleaded with him, staring at his cock the whole time.

"Let me help, Daddy. Let me touch your cock and help you come."

"I could help you, Daddy. Let your princess show you how much she loves you. Let me love your cock, too."

"Let me make you come, Daddy. Let me be the one to make you come."

The more Amy talked, the faster her father pumped his cock with his hand. He closed his eyes briefly, panting softly, before jerking them open to stare into hers. His gaze raked over her body as he started to moan. Amy worked at memorizing the sound, creating a recording in her mind that she could play back whenever she wished, the sound of her dear father coming for her.

"Come for me, Daddy. Come for me, and come on me. Come on my tits, Daddy. Come on your little girl's sweet, lonely tits."

* * *

Amy's begging was driving Don well past the brink. He looked at her gorgeous body beneath him, and the way she wriggled and moved for him, straining to get free, to touch him.

He should do it, he thought. She wanted it. He wanted it. He shouldn't actually fuck her, but he could tit fuck her. Why not? As it was, he was going to come on her. He was going to come on his daughter's tits, the most beautiful and erotic tits in the world. He shouldn't, he absolutely shouldn't, but he wanted to. She was beautiful. She wanted him. He could make her feel so good.