Fake Sex

Dasha's heart felt good when she saw how her parents looked at each other, how they supported her in all her endeavors, how her mother, although she tells rather unpleasant stories for her father, always adds at the end that the girls who did not give their father a chance, missed an incredible opportunity to arrange their family happiness. And dad, in turn, did not miss the opportunity to make fun of mom's too young appearance, which often visitors to the archive took for an intern, she always looked so fresh and cute.

But after Dasha's eighteenth birthday, something changed. No, her parents, as before, did not reproach her at all for the absence of a noisy flock of snickering friends, guys waiting in the entrance and other attributes of a "modern" girl. Apparently, Dasha inherited shyness from her father, and he, like her mother, took it for granted. And the relationship between dad and mom also did not get worse -- the love between them, as it seemed to Dasha, even began to flare up with a new force.

No, it was something else. However, this was also connected with a new outbreak of feelings. Dasha began to notice more and more often how her father looked at her. Well, otherwise. Not as usual. Blushes, looks away... And then he looks again. She feels it with his eyes. Dasha always walked around the house in short dressing gowns and had never noticed anything like this for her father before. But after Dasha's eighteenth birthday, dad seemed to see something new in his daughter, a beautiful, barely blooming flower, a sweet angel, who is here, just stretch out his hand...

But her father never held out his hand. Not even close. Moreover, if before his eighteenth birthday he sometimes allowed himself to caress his daughter, stroke her hair or kiss her on the cheek, now all the gestures of intimacy have moved to a remote format. Dasha felt the new attitude of her father towards her, a pulling feeling in the lower abdomen, a sticky fear of the new, unknown, and in horror from her thoughts she ran into the room, where in bliss she ran her palm under her panties and caressed herself to exhaustion.

Dasha understood that it was necessary to change the traditions of walking around the house in short dressing gowns, wrapped up so that the father had a magnificent view of his daughter's chest. But she couldn't help it -- she liked to feel her father's eyes on her, she got almost physical pleasure from realizing what thoughts were being born in dad's head about his own child. Dashenka started dropping objects, bending over them, watching her father's reaction, casually touching him with her forms, and even sometimes "forgot" to close the bathroom door, seeing a trembling shadow on the curtain and hearing her father's quiet hoarse sighs.

Every time Dasha once again showed dad the neckline of her dressing gown, or her little white panties while bending over a fallen spoon, she felt a thick blush covering her cheeks. Dasha never imagined sex with her father in her fantasies -- she was almost knocked out by the thought that dad could touch her-not accidentally in the corridor when she runs out of the shower, but intentionally, squeeze her tits with his hands, press his body tightly, touch her cute face with his face... Even kissing in Dasha's fantasies was forbidden -- the maximum that she allowed her imagination was touching noses or hugs.

Dasha both suffered and enjoyed this state of affairs at the same time, noticing with increasing surprise the looks of her mother that she threw at her daughter during the episodes of seducing her father. These views were not at all judgmental or even indifferent. No! Mom looked at Dasha with admiration, she smiled encouragingly and glittered with her eyes when she noticed how her daughter casually straightened a curl or the hem of a dressing gown, blushing and holding her breath, watching her father's reaction. Vika herself did not blush as easily as her daughter, but a characteristic blush appeared on her cheeks.

After especially depraved moments, for example, when Dashenka loaded things into the washing machine, standing like a crustacean and showing the color of her panties, dad could even, without saying a word, grab her mother in his arms and rush to her parents ' bedroom, closing the door with a key. Grigory, despite his nerdy appearance, was a jack of all trades, and had long ago made a thorough sound insulation in this room. So Dasha, only listening with all her might, could distinguish the thin desperate squeak of her mother and the hoarse growls of her father. And after she managed to hear these sounds, she diligently almost kicked away the pictures that her imagination helpfully slipped her.

Well, then Dasha retired to her room and masturbated according to the standard scheme, imagining how dad squeezes her ass and breasts. Recently, my mother began to appear in my fantasies, which scared Dasha unspeakably, even more than kissing her father. After a few months of such a life, Dasha found herself in a lingerie store choosing lace panties that she had never worn before. Having run out of the room in horror, without buying anything, the girl realized that this was too much for her. She felt with all her heart that she needed a little break.

Dasha went to the radio market, bought a webcam, microphone and headphones, locked herself in a room and sat down for her first stream. Without thinking twice, the girl launched Doom Eternal, and, hacking monsters from all types of weapons, she was finally able to distract herself from the wonderful and terrible thoughts that had been eating her for so long. Dasha's first stream marathon lasted twelve hours, at its peak, about a dozen viewers watched it. And one of them was the father, who immediately understood from his daughter's purchases what she was going to do.

Despite the fact that the girl was streaming in relatively closed clothes, the father was just crazy and excited by the very fact that his shy daughter decided to do this. The sonorous voice of his daughter, commenting on the fragments of enemies flying in different directions, brought his penis literally to a stone form. And the laughter and smiles of the girl during the donations made Grigory almost finish at all.

Although the father saw his daughter every day, enjoyed her forms, sexy poses and embarrassed blush almost every minute, nevertheless, the daughter's stream brought down another wall inside. Before, Grigory could never even imagine touching his daughter's tits and ass, his fantasy was always limited to modest kisses, but now... The girl seemed to have left herself to the world, demonstrated that she could not only keep the attention of the pope within four walls, but also interact with the audience, smile and talk, riveting the eyes.

Moreover, Dad even felt something like a pang of jealousy towards the audience, who now, like him, could see Dasha, who is trying for them. It is clear that the daughter did not allow herself not to stream even a hundredth part of what she showed to her father during the acts of seduction in the kitchen, in the corridors and in the bathroom, but nevertheless -- the girl showed the reception with the correction of the curl more than once, and the decollete of the T-shirt, albeit modest, but it was.

Unable to stand it for half an hour, Grigory went past his daughter's room to the hall where Vika was watching another TV series. He almost attacked his wife, imagining his daughter in her place, squeezing her charms with his hands, kissing her small greedy mouth and pressing his whole body to his hot sexy angel.

Vika answered him at first, but then began to push him away, whispering:

"Grigory, what about Dasha? Suddenly she is..."

"Don't worry, they're streaming..."

"What?" the wife had no idea what streams were. Grigory had to stop and explain, and then show what his daughter was doing at the moment. Vika looked with a smile at how Dashenka makes her mouth with the letter "o", surprised at the next donation and happily kissed her husband. They hugged and sighed in sync, enjoying the moment.

After that, Dasha continued to stream sometimes, two or three times a week. There were not many spectators, but they were constant. After each broadcast, the girl took up challenging movements with new strength in the presence of her father. Having brought her father to exhaustion, the girl giggled and retired to her room, with pleasure hearing how dad rushes at mom after each such episode.

For streaming and seducing dad, Dasha completely abandoned her preparation for exams, as a result, she barely scored a passing score and managed to enroll only in a completely unpopular chemical faculty. But the girl was not upset at all, because already on the first day she met Veronika and Olya. Her attention was immediately attracted by two girls sitting in the middle of the audience.

They did not look like either the people from the last desks who decided to come to school only on the first day, and then safely score pairs before the session, or the good girls from the first rows who looked into the teacher's mouth. These two girls looked sexy and inaccessible at the same time, they attracted the attention of guys, but none of them even dared to approach our heroines. The girls themselves did not talk to each other and, it seems, they chose places next to each other absolutely randomly, without interacting in any way. And if it wasn't for Dasha, Olya and Veronika wouldn't even have known each other's names on the first day.

"Hi, I'm Dasha" the girl muttered, going up to Olya and Veronika. They both sat straight, as if a steel rod had been inserted into their spine. Dasha herself did not know why she introduced herself to them, she had never been in the habit of making new acquaintances in this way. Yes, and in any other way, too, which is a sin to conceal. Perhaps Dasha was so influenced by the streams, perhaps she was so confused that she did not understand what she was doing. Anyway, Olya and Veronika synchronously turned their lovely heads in her direction.

And then Dasha saw with delight how the cheeks of the girls were covered with a blush. Gentle, barely noticeable, but she saw it, despite her minus four.

"My God, they are just like me!" - the thought beat in the girl's head like a rabbit caught in a snare. Veronika and Olya also noticed a shy blush both on Dasha and on each other's cheeks. Later, when they met daily in the library, they recalled this episode with laughter. "It's like a seal on your face," Veronika said with a smile. "Aha, the seal of virginity" -- Olya echoed her in a whisper. They had no secrets from each other.

The girls laughed together, but they did not forget that this is a library and they need to be quiet. However, the young librarian was not a bit angry. She was very glad that among the shelves with books, in addition to the mustachioed nerds, cute girls began to appear, and even a whole company.

The three of us really liked it in the reading room. There were soft sofas, there were practically no people, and there was a buffet nearby, where they sold delicious pancakes and fragrant coffee. If some dark personalities came into the library, they immediately left the horizon as soon as they saw three cute freshmen. Most of the visitors to the library had a persistent fear of beautiful girls.

Valera was also afraid of girls, a well-fed guy with glasses, who at all lectures in classrooms with an amphitheater sat in a couple of rows behind Olya, Nika and Dasha, looking directly at their charming heads from above. He caught every movement of the girls with pleasure, opened his mouth and watched as Dasha wrinkled her lovely lips, Veronika straightened her curly curls, and Olya sighed softly, forcing her magnificent breasts to rise. The very next day, he did not write a lecture note for the lecturer, but scribbled a film script in a green general notebook.

It was it who was discovered by the girls on the sofa in the library, having once again come here after couples...