Adventures with Erin Pt. 02

First he'd gone up to Erin's room, into her en suite bathroom and located the screw on the pipe that stopped the water flow. He selected a flat head and gave it a quick turn, then tried the shower. Just a dribble, then nothing. Perfect. Then he marched back downstairs and into the master bedroom that he shared with Karen.

The master bedroom just happened to share a wall with the villa's main bathroom, and on that wall there was a big, fairly crap seascape painting. He took it down and gave the wall an exploratory knock. Hollow. Nothing but thin plaster board between here and the bathroom.

He then moved into the bathroom and inspected the adjoining wall. Tiles reached only as high as his chest, at which point there was a shallow, wooden shelf, on which the owner had placed a few fake pot plants. It should be about the same height as the picture hung in his bedroom. He would have to chance it. Erin would be back any minute.

He grabbed the drill and braced it against the wall at just above the height of the shelf. To the untrained eye it might look just like an old screw hole for a previous shelf that had never been filled. Or so he hoped. Slowly he turned the handle on the drill, making a small hole in the wall. He kept going till he hit fresh air, then quickly wiped away the dust with his sleeve.

John rearranged the pot plants on the shelf so that the hole was just visible between two of the larger pots, then rushed back into his bedroom. The hole was exactly where he'd hoped, almost perfectly in the centre of the area covered by the painting.

His cock hardened in anticipation of his scheme coming to fruition.

He placed his eye up to the hole and was pleased to see a pretty good view of the bathroom. He could see the toilet and the area in front of the sink where the mirror was attached to the wall.

John placed the painting back on the wall, gathered up the tools and headed back downstairs to the storage cupboard. He was just opening it, tools in hand, when a voice said, 'What you doing?'

His heart sank. Erin. He hadn't heard her come in.

He turned and was momentarily struck dumb by the sight that greeted him. The light grey sports bra was stained with sweat over her nipples, leaving two dark marks in the centre of her full young breasts. Sweat dripped down her belly and stained the pure white shorts, particularly around her crotch, where the camel toe was still visible, so wet and dark.

Play it cool, John.

'Oh, there's a problem with the water. It all went off but I think it's fixed.'

'Oh right, ok,' she said. 'Well I hope the shower's working! I'm disgusting!'

Disgustingly sexy, John thought.

She plodded upstairs. John heard her head up again from the second floor to her bedroom and the en suite. He waited a few seconds.

'Dad!'

'Yes darling?'

'My shower's not working!'

This was it. His big moment. 'Try ours.'

He heard her descend the stairs and open the bathroom door, then heard the reassuring gush of water as the shower exploded into life.

'This one's fine. Thanks!'

He heard the bathroom door close and the lock turn.

John raced upstairs and into his bedroom, quickly taking the seascape back down off the wall, then ducked his head slightly and pressed his eye to the hole. He didn't want to miss a thing.

The view was perfect. Erin was turned in profile, looking at herself in the mirror. She had released her hair from its ponytail and was fiddling with it a little, running her fingers through it, rearranging.

John felt his cock engorge, not just at the sight of his young daughter, but at the taboo nature of it all. Voyeurism AND incestuous thoughts. He was maxing out on the perversion factor here.

Erin sat down on the toilet seat and removed her trainers, then stood back up and ran her hands over her smooth ass, turning this way and that and admiring herself into he mirror. She turned so that her ass was towards the mirror, stuck it out and gave it a light slap. John let out a little moan, but she couldn't hear it because of the noise of the shower. He reached into his pants and released his cock, gripping it tightly but not masturbating. Just holding it, pulsing it in his hand.

Erin then reached for the black band of her sports bra and pulled it off swiftly over her head. Her tits bobbed lightly, and John was amazed by their pertness, their firmness. He admired the huge pink areoles and the firm red nipples, and the slight pout at their tips. He imagined how they would feel in his hand, or clenched around his cock, and started to stroke, slowly, imagining their firm weight.

He thought about licking the sweat off his daughter's taut white belly, kissing the undersides of her breasts lightly, then taking her nipples in his mouth, hard and aching.

Erin then reached for the waistband of her workout shorts, hooked her thumbs under the elastic and eased them down. And John saw her trim pubes and the wet pink lips of her vagina. Her hip bones, slightly proud of her belly. Her perfectly rounded, muscled thighs.

He started to stroke his cock more swiftly, and felt his orgasm begin to rise.

Was she wet?

Her pussy was glistening in the bright lights of the bathroom. Why wasn't she getting in the shower?

Erin seemed to be considering something, then walked over to the cabinet where they had stored all of the bath products. She selected a tall, slender bottle. It looked like one of Karen's curling lotions, then returned to the toilet, placed the seat in the down position, and sat down. She cocked her leg up on a low shelf just above floor height, and John had a perfect view of her trim teen pussy.

He watched as she placed her fingers over her sex, pushing then gently through the folds of her vagina. He saw her mouth something, and she closed her eyes. Something about 'wet'. Then she mouthed it again and he got it: 'So wet already.'

With her fingers she parted the lips of her pussy and placed the slender bottle at the opening of her vagina. At first she teased herself, pressing the bottle's top against her pelvic bone and clitoris, and John imagined he could hear the wetness of his daughter's beautiful sex.

Then she placed the bottle back at her opening, paused for a second and then pushed it up and in. John gasped, pulling furiously on his cock as Erin took in first two, then five, then at least eight inches of the bottle's length. The bottle was slender but she seemed to be struggling a little. She must be so tight, John thought, as he imagined the bottle was his throbbing cock, pushing through the warm, wet folds of his daughter's pussy.

As she began to move the bottle in and out of her pussy, she started to gasp and shake, her tits bouncing and bobbing with each rhythmic motion, her nipples standing firm and proud, a red blush to her cheeks.

She started to mouth something. Her eyes were shut. It was an 'Oh' and then... 'Dan'. Well that would make sense. She was fantasising about fucking her brother again. John was beginning to find this all too much. His knees started to shake as his orgasm gathered at the base of his shaft. Waves of pleasure throbbing outwards from the point where his hand was wrapped tightly around his now slick cock.

It was then, as she was cumming, that he heard her. Audibly this time, above the noise of the shower. As Erin reached her orgasm, pussy dripping hot juices down the sides of the bottle, gaping around its girth, so full and tight, she cried out again. And it wasn't Dan...

It was 'Oh... DAD!'

John burst uncontrollably, as his daughter imagined his huge cock filling her cunt. Thick, hot streams of cum pulsing out of his dick. His whole body vibrated, as he pictured her taking it on her tits, all over her face, in her mouth, and dripping white from her sweet young pussy.

'Dad!' she shouted again, as he watched her body shuddering through her intensely powerful orgasm, then she slumped back against the cistern, her arm falling limply to her side, the bottle sliding out of her pussy and falling to the floor.

John fell back from the hole he had made in the wall, his cock softening, dripping the last remnants of his cum onto the tiled floor. He had heard that, right? She'd said Dad.

'Oh my god', he thought. Perhaps voyeurism was only going to be the start...