"What's the matter, Dad?"

Eric Tanner looked over at his nineteen year old daughter in the passenger seat. "Nothing. Why?"

"You've been so quiet the whole trip," Stacy said.

"The whole trip hasn't even been half an hour yet."

Stacy stared straight ahead. "Is Mom mad at you again?"

She could hear her father's sigh. "No, she's not mad at me...again. You make it sound like it happens all the time."

"Doesn't it?" she asked. "Seems like every time I come home for a weekend you two are fighting or something."

There was silence for a moment. Then Eric replied, "We're both under a lot of pressure at our jobs. You know that. We're lucky to be working and we're going out of our way to keep it that way. Sometimes we aren't as...cheerful...at home as maybe you'd like. We'd give anything to be in your shoes, with no responsibilities, or worries, or cares."

Stacy's head snapped in the direction of her father. "No worries?! I have five classes this semester. Hard ones!"

Eric tried not to smile. He remembered those days. What he thought were worries then seem trivial now. But he'd never admit to Stacy that things weren't all that smooth between him and her mother. Pressure was building in their relationship. Frustration mounted.

Eric needed to change the subject. "So, how are you doing?"

"In the classes? I'll pass them all. Actually, I'll get a couple A's and a couple B's. But they're hard," Stacy said emphatically.

"I'm sure they are." This time when Eric looked over, his eyes lingered a little longer on his daughter. She was prettier every time he saw her. Her mature body filled out her t-shirt and shorts like a model. He noticed she had her blonde hair cut a little shorter than normal, and the wind in the convertible caused it to dishevel in a very sexy way.

They chatted amicably for the remainder of the trip, but Eric knew he was beginning to deal with an adult child now...not just a little girl. Physically and mentally, his daughter was growing up.

Stacy felt relieved as the car turned into their driveway and finally into the garage. It was going to be good to see her Mom again and put aside the daily grind of school. She truly was concerned about the apparent friction between her parents. Stacy was determined to cheer up one, or both, of them over the weekend.

She hurried into the house while Eric got her bag from the trunk. It never ceased to amaze him how much stuff his daughter needed for a two day stay. By the time he was inside, Eric could hear the two females gabbing away. He looked into the family room and noticed, for the first time, that Stacy was now at least an inch taller than her mother, Cheryl.

For all the faults there may have been in Eric's family life, he never under-appreciated how fortunate he was to have two such beautiful blondes in the same house. Cheryl was a fitness fanatic when she had time off from her busy job as a marketing director. Her forty one year old body could easily belong to, well, her daughter. And that's basically what happened, except for Stacy's additional inch or so in height.

Eric never had direct evidence, but he suspected that Cheryl sometimes used her body as a bargaining chip in her dealings with high-level media executives. Cheryl's flirting was legendary both at work and home. In addition, when Eric took her to his law firm's social functions, he rarely let her out of his sight for fear of losing her to another partner in the firm...either for fifteen minutes or for life.

Now his two girls were together again at home and for a couple days, at least, maybe there would be peace.

It was a typically beautiful South Florida March day--sunny and warm. Stacy's plans were no more complicated than spending as much time around the pool as possible. She loved the way the stone patio, with its umbrella tables, offered protection from the sun and the pool area allowed for sunbathing. She'd always tanned very easily without burning, despite her light complexion. The contrast between her bronze skin and blonde hair drove more than a few guys at school crazy.

Within an hour of arriving, Stacy was in her favorite bikini and sitting on the back porch with a drink in hand. She never took for granted having been the only child of a fairly rich set of parents. Nor did she feel guilty. She just enjoyed it.

The first time Eric passed by the sliding glass doors leading out onto the patio, he grimaced at the sight of the drink. He was always afraid of the college life turning his daughter into a binge drinker. He remembered his own days at school. But then his attention turned to Stacy in her little bikini and the drink became secondary in importance. He stared at her leaning back in the lounge chair, her body stretched out in comfort. Stacy's breasts bulged against the top of her suit, while the thin strap of material around her waist seemingly disappeared between her legs.

Eric looked around in guilt when he finally walked from the doors, hoping Cheryl didn't see him gawking at Stacy. In spite of his guilt, he found himself looking out at the patio every opportunity he had for the next hour. Finally, he decided to go outside himself during the halftime of a game he was watching on TV.

Eric was surprised to find Stacy's lounge chair empty when he slid open the doors and stepped out. The sound of a splash made him look at the pool, where Stacy's lithe body soon surfaced and began a slow trek to the far end. Eric walked over while Stacy reached the wall, turned, and started back. He was sitting by the time she started one more lap.

It was then that Eric realized Stacy didn't have a top on. He couldn't see anything--she swam slowly with her head down and her body cutting through the water--but her bare back gave away Stacy's secret. She managed to turn at each end of the pool without ever fully exposing the top half of her body. Eric considered leaving; then decided to stay.

After five full laps, Stacy glided over to the side of the pool near her father. She had noticed him when he first approached the pool and spent two laps calculating her next move.

Stacy put her arms on the edge and rested her chin on top. "This sure beats sitting in the dorm room," she said with a smile.

"Somehow I doubt you would be sitting in your dorm room on a Saturday," Eric said.

"Maybe not. But it's good being home and not having to worry about stuff for a while."

"What 'stuff' do you worry about?" Eric asked.

Stacy's expression got more serious as she thought for a second. "Classes. Assignments."

"Guys," her father interjected.


Eric watched Stacy steady herself in the water, still unable to see anything lower than her arms and shoulders. "Are you dating anybody?"

"Not really. I could be if I wanted to. But I'll wait," she said.

"For what?"

"For when I'm ready." She looked at the chair next to her father. "Hand me my top, please."

Eric stood up, grabbed the tiny top and walked it over to Stacy. At first, he hung it directly in front of her. But when she went to grab it, he pulled it just out of her reach. Stacy leaned hard against the side of the pool, using her free arm to cover the upper part of her chest.

"Dad! Give it to me!"

Eric dropped the top and Stacy snatched it before it hit the ground. She sank farther into the water and pulled the bikini over her head, then started tying it in the back as she bobbed back up. Eric got a tantalizingly quick glimpse of the breasts before they were barely covered by the suit.

Only then did she jump out of the pool and grab a towel. Eric sat back down while Stacy concluded her show by drying off in front of him.

"Do you like my new bikini?" she asked.

"It's too small. It's...obscene."

"Good. That answers my question," she said with a playful smile.

They sat by the pool for a short while, and then headed back into the house. They went their separate ways and it wasn't until early evening that Eric saw his daughter again. Cheryl had gone out with friends for a birthday dinner and party—a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Stacy. She was alone with her Dad and was in the mood to take full advantage of it.

Dressed in an unreasonably long, but tight, tank top and panties, she entered the family room with a can of soda and bag of chips. Eric watched from his chair as Stacy strolled in front of him and then plopped down on the couch, her legs folded underneath her body. His eyes moved from her highly visible breasts to her tanned thighs. A hint of blue panty extended below the tank top.

Neither acknowledged the other verbally until the first commercial break.

"You're not going anywhere tonight?" Eric asked.

"Nope." Stacy bit into a potato chip, then glanced down and lightly brushed off an apparent crumb from the top of her breasts. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Eric said, "I just thought you'd have better things to do than sit here."


Eric forced himself to look at the TV. The more Stacy moved, the higher her shirt rode up her legs. Soon, it was bunched around her waist with her panties plainly visible. Though slightly bigger than her bikini, they didn't hide much.

There was no doubt in Eric's mind that the inch or so difference in height between his wife and daughter was in Stacy's legs. They were long and curvy without a hint of fat, or even a line that was out of place. Around the time of his third surreptitious glance when Stacy wasn't looking, Eric felt his cock respond. His guilt diminished with each peek at her.

"Dad. Come over and sit with me," Stacy suddenly said during one commercial.

Eric looked over and saw Stacy patting the cushion next to her.

"Uh, why hon?" he asked.

"Because I want you to. Just like we used to do when I was little."

Eric had no possible reply that wouldn't be a direct refusal. Although he felt uncomfortable about it, he got up and walked to the couch, sitting several feet away from Stacy.

She smiled. "I miss you guys, and all of us being together."

"I miss it too, Stacy," Eric said. "But we all grow older...way too fast."

"That can be a good thing, you know. I mean, my growing older allows me to look at you and Mom in a different way," Stacy said. "We're all adults now."

The conflict in Eric's mind was compounded by Stacy's comment. When he looked at her now, he saw a woman. But she was his daughter—the one who couldn't ride a bike without falling; the one who cried when she saw a spider.

"Is that why you think you have to fix a marriage that isn't broken?" he asked.

Stacy looked startled. "I don't think that at all. I just want you both to be happy, and being older gives me different ways to do that."

Before Eric could respond, Stacy was leaning over so that her head was almost in his lap. She turned onto her back, stretched out her legs, and finally did lay her head down on top of his legs. Stacy's feet rested on the end of the couch, her legs slightly raised.

"Remember when you would let me lie here and go to sleep?" she asked, looking up at her father.


Eric struggled with where to put his hands before finding a safe spot.

"That was nice. I felt safe," Stacy said softly.

"And now?" Eric asked.

"The same."

Stacy's head was settled on Eric's legs, not quite pressing against his cock. That was a good thing because he was reacting to the view he was getting down the front of her tight top. Besides the ample skin not covered by the shirt, he couldn't help but notice the nipples bulging against it. Under any other circumstances, he would be playing with the wondrous tits.

Instead, Stacy took the lead and ran her hand up the outside of her shirt starting at about her navel and ending just below her breasts. She paused, either for effect or deliberation, and then pulled her hand up over a breast and onto the bare skin above it.

Eric watched intently, getting harder and harder—or as hard as his shorts would let him. Stacy didn't speak. Her fingers followed the edge of one shoulder strap midway down a breast. Then she followed the edge across her cleavage and up the other side.

Eric was just about to put a stop to it, but Stacy reached for his hand and put it in hers. She pulled it up and held it against her chest, above her breasts. Eric felt the warm, smooth skin as Stacy softly pushed down. He could feel her heart pounding swiftly.

Stacy guided the hand lower. Eric couldn't pull it away, despite an ever-growing reservation about what was happening. His fingers slid down the exposed portion of Stacy's breasts until he reached a point where he had to either go inside, or outside, her shirt.

He chose outside.

Stacy stopped forcing the hand lower when Eric's palm was squarely on the bulk of her right breast. They both sat motionless for a second or two...which seemed like a minute or two to Eric.

"Touch me, Dad."

Eric's answer caught in his dry throat. "No, Stacy. I really...shouldn't."

"Please." She waited for his hand to lift, but it never did. "Just this once."

As if her words made everything alright, Eric lightly pressed his fingers harder onto her breast. He felt the skin give way under her shirt, molding to his hand. Stacy closed her eyes and arched her back just enough to apply more pressure on her father's hand. Eric squeezed again, this time seeking out her nipple with one of his fingers.

He saw her lips separate just a fraction and her breathing quickened. Eric scraped his finger across her erect nipple.

"Oh, Dad. That feels so good."

Eric cringed. This was so wrong. But he was only touching her shirt. It was like putting his arm around her, right? There was nothing...sexual...about it. His mind whirled with questions and answers. His cock responded in quite a different way, however.

The harder Stacy's nipple got, the more Eric's hand migrated to it. Soon, he was massaging her with his palm, pressing firmer and firmer with each new sign of pleasure.

"Touch it, please. Inside my shirt. I want you to feel it," Stacy urged.

"No. I can't," Eric argued.

Stacy didn't plead. She took his hand again and placed it where the tank top and skin met. Then she slid his fingers inside her shirt and let go. She fully expected him to do the rest...and he did.

Eric's fingers found her nipple and pinched it. He rolled it between his fingers and listened to his daughter sigh. His hand caused the shirt to lift enough that the majority of her other breast was now visible. Stacy's perfect, soft skin was captivating as he stared down at her.

Her body moved almost imperceptibly with each new action of Eric's hand. He saw her hips rise and fall or slide left and right as he played with her tit. Eric's heart raced faster and his cock ached for attention.

Without saying a word, Stacy took the straps to her tank top and slowly slid them off her shoulders. Eric never removed his hand from her breast. Then Stacy lifted her arms and drew them out of the straps, pulled the top down and fully exposed both breasts.

Eric couldn't decide which was more troubling—that Stacy was undressing for him or that he was continuing to play with her as if he had every right to do so. But her magnificent chest was irresistible. He quickly began to cover each breast in succession with his palm...squeezing, rolling and holding them tenderly.

"Oh my God, Dad. Don't stop. Ever," Stacy begged.

Eric didn't stop as his eyes scanned her body--from the luscious breasts, to the shirt gathered at her waist, to the long legs stretched out along the couch. Just as he fixed his eyes on the panties peeking out under Stacy's top, she grabbed the shirt and pulled it down farther. She raised her legs, bent at the knees, and removed the shirt completely. After flinging it onto the floor, she extended her legs again and spread them slightly.

The display was over much too quickly for Eric's liking, but now he had an unobstructed view of her tiny waist, full hips and panty-covered pussy.

"Stacy, what if your mother comes home?" he asked seriously.

"She won't. But if she does we'll hear the garage door and we'll have plenty of time. Now don't worry about it, please."

Stacy had her head turned sideways in Eric's lap, looking up at him. Her eyes shifted down to the bulge in his shorts and she put her hand on it.

"Did this happen all the time when I laid in your lap?" she asked.

Eric's body shuddered uneasily under Stacy's touch. "You weren't half naked," he said.

"Well, you have the same effect on me." As she spoke, Stacy moved her hand between her legs and placed it on top of her panties. With long, steady strokes, she pulled her fingers up and over her pussy and clit.

"You've made me very wet. Feel for yourself."

Stacy moved her hand away and Eric looked down at her panties. "No, Stacy. Really, I..."

"I want you to," she said. "It's OK."

No it wasn't, according to Eric's conscience. Nothing about this was OK. Still, his cock got harder every time he looked at his nearly nude daughter. He desperately wanted to feel her wet pussy.

"Just once, Dad."

His hand was on her thigh, feeling the silky smooth skin. Stacy spread her legs another inch or two, just enough for him to feel her movement. Eric slid his fingers closer to her panties.

As Eric's hand moved over the small patch of fabric, Stacy raised her ass off the couch. Her pussy and his fingers made contact. Eric pressed down and Stacy lowered her body once again, while he sought out the slit between her legs.

She felt her panties rubbing against the entrance to her pussy. "Yes," she whispered.

Eric felt the moisture his daughter had promised him. It sent tingles up his spine. He pressed harder.

"Inside, Dad. Put your hand inside my panties."

If he had reservations about touching her breasts, Eric had major problems with what she was asking. A line was about to be crossed and he wasn't sure he was ready for it. At the same time, he continued to stroke her pussy through the soaked panties. He continued to be hard as a rock inside his shorts. Stacy continued to moan each time he touched her clit.

Eric put his hand at the top of her panties and put the tips of his fingers underneath as though he wanted to do it without her knowing. Just as delicately, he pushed his hand down. He felt her skin change to a very soft covering of fine hair. Then a slight rise was followed by a depression and he knew he had reached her clit.

Stacy took in a deep breath while her father's finger lingered at her swollen nub. Her reaction reminded him one more time just what he was doing, and he began to withdraw his hand from under her panties.

"No!" she cried out. "Please keep going. It's alright. I promise."

Eric's fatherly desire to make his daughter happy was overriding his common sense. His hand returned to its place and found her clit once more. After a few strokes, he moved his hand lower and curled his fingers down to the entrance to her pussy. Eric probed the wet skin until he found the opening. He allowed the finger to enter her for an instant, then pulled it out and returned to her clit.

Stacy's eyes were closed. She unconsciously licked her lips, lost in the bliss of having her father play with her throbbing clit. She put a hand on her breast and began to massage it, eventually concentrating on the nipple. Eric watched it all and increased his speed and pressure in return.

As Stacy's breathing became heavier and faster, her body responded by forcing itself up onto her father's hand. Eric pushed down the panties to give himself more room, then cupped her entire pussy and explored every inch of it with his eager fingers. Soon, Stacy was moving her pussy up and down as though she was fucking. Eric obliged by burying two fingers deep inside her.

"Yes!" Stacy nearly screamed. "More!"

One of her hands gripped the edge of the couch while the other squeezed her nipple. She tried to spread her legs wider, nearly ripping her panties in the process. Eric frantically pushed them down to her knees before rubbing her clit some more. Stacy hissed with pleasure, obviously on the verge of coming.

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