My Daughter Amy Pt. 01

A/N: This is a re-written version of an earlier (now deleted) publication. Please enjoy!

It had been almost 11 months since I'd last seen my daughter, Amy. She'd been off at boarding school in New York and while she'd usually fly home for the holidays, severe weather had prevented her from doing so this year. The same went for her 18th birthday, forcing my wife, Sarah, and I to celebrate with her virtually. It wasn't the same though, and we couldn't wait to have her back with us.

But when we arrived at the airport to collect her, I almost didn't recognize the young woman waiting for us. Amy had changed dramatically, now more woman than girl. Her blonde hair was longer and lighter than I remembered, falling over her shoulders in waves. She was a bit taller now, 5'4" perhaps, and I couldn't help but notice that her breasts had grown, too. They sat high on her chest, straining against the fabric of her shirt, the outline of her nipples barely perceptible through the cotton. My face heated as I felt my cock twitch in my pants. I shouldn't be affected by this change, not when it came to her. She was my Amy. My precious little girl.

Not so little anymore, a part of me remarked dryly. It took more strength than it should have for me to shove the thought away.

She was smiling widely as she approached, launching herself into her mother's arms as Sarah flew out of the car to embrace her. Stiffly, I got out as well, subtly rearranging myself before taking her luggage and loading it into the back of the sedan.

"Daddy!" Amy squealed, hugging me next. I had to stifle a groan as she pressed tight against me, winding her arms around my neck.

"Hi, honey." I squeezed her back, trying--and failing--to ignore the feel of her hips against mine. My blood was rushing south, and I released her quickly as my cock began to stir, hoping no one had noticed.

On the drive back, I tried to keep my gaze strictly on the road. Oblivious to my inner turmoil, my wife and daughter chatted enthusiastically about finishing school, summer plans, and college. Once or twice, I met Amy's bright green gaze in the review mirror and had to avert my eyes in shame.

Later that evening, we settled in for a movie. Amy sat between Sarah and I, wearing one of my old shirts. As the opening credits played, she cuddled into my wife's side, and I watched as Sarah rubbed gentle circles along her back. The motion pulled at Amy's shirt, causing it to ride upwards, exposing the curve of her ass.

In that moment, I felt my mind short circuit. Fucking hell. She wasn't wearing any shorts...just a pair of pale blue panties.

Fuck.

I couldn't help but stare, curiosity overriding guilt. My cock stirred once more, and I pulled a pillow over my lap to cover it. A quick glance at my wife and daughter assured me that they were too engrossed in the movie to notice. Mouth dry, I allowed my gaze to dip lower once more, entranced by the smooth, pale skin of her thighs.

Stop, I told myself sternly. That's your daughter, for Christ's sake. You have to stop this!

But then Amy moved, resting her head in her mother's lap and stretching one leg out across mine. I froze, eyes snapping back to the screen. Her ankle brushed dangerously close to the head of my cock. I could feel it engorging, hungry for something it could not have. And then--as if to tempt me further--she pulled her other leg up, bending it at the knee and letting it fall open.

I couldn't help myself. I looked.

My eyes found her center easily, as though drawn there by some unknown force. Her panties were so thin and tight that I could see the outline of her lips through the fabric. My dick throbbed, aching for her. For Amy. For my own fucking daughter.

Terror filled me and I excused myself in horror. As quickly as I could without drawing suspicion, I left and made my way to the master bathroom. Once inside, I stripped and locked the door, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My cock, ready and weeping at the tip, jutted outward as I freed it. Its head was angry, almost purple with need, and slick with precum. Forcing myself into the shower, I stood under the icy spray, hoping that it would quell the heat of my taboo desires.

It did not.

Just this once, I promised myself, gripping the base of my shaft. You can think of her just this once. Bracing one hand against the shower wall, I worked myself up and down. Groaning, I pictured myself taking her breasts in my hands, imagining how perfectly they would fit in my palms. Gripping myself harder, I recalled the blue of her panties, envisioning my fingers reaching out and pulling them to the side. "Oh god, Amy," I moaned. "Your pussy's so pretty." Pumping my cock faster, I threw my head back, cold water splashing across my face. The contact shook me from my fantasy, the reality of what I was doing quickly setting in.

Oh god. I was getting off to my daughter. To my own fucking daughter. Stroking my dick as I imagined her tits, her ass--it was too much. I came with a roar, hot cum spurting from my cock, climaxing harder than I ever had before. In my mind, Amy watched me, green eyes wide, her gaze shocked and accusing.

Completely spent, I slumped forward, exhausted. I watched as the water swirled down the drain, taking with it the evidence of what I'd done.

Shame, guilt, and lust were my constant companions after that. Over the next several days, the first two won out, and I refused to indulge in my fantasy. But as time passed and the weather warmed, it became more and more difficult. I could feel my willpower draining, my resolve faltering as Amy pranced about in tiny crop tops, dresses, and barely-there miniskirts. Sometimes, I wondered if she knew of my secret desire--if she'd somehow sensed it. Impossible, I reassured myself. There's no way.

At night, and sometimes even during the day when it became too much, I'd fuck my wife instead, hoping to chase away my depraved thoughts. But it didn't matter how many times I rutted into her, how many times she came around me. Sarah wasn't Amy, and the lust roared on.

Seven days. I'd made it seven whole days without getting off to thoughts of my Amy. But it was a little white bikini that finally ruined me.

It was a tiny thing, barely a scrap of fabric. And yet it sent my self-control spiraling, tearing apart every ounce of discipline I'd mustered. One look and I knew I wouldn't be able to stay away.

The morning had been an unusually warm one. By 7 am, it had already reached 78 degrees, and by 9 it was nearly 83. Sarah had already left for work, and I was setting up in the home office when Amy came down the stairs. I'd left the study's door ajar, and I gazed transfixed as I watched her descend. Her legs were long and lean, her skin now golden from laying out by our pool. Her breasts bounced, barely contained by the white bikini top she wore. It was clearly unpadded, and her hard nipples peaked the fabric in little mounds. As she turned to enter the kitchen, I caught sight of the tiniest bikini bottoms I'd ever seen. As I watched her firm ass sashay down the hall, I was convinced that even thongs had more fabric than that.

Looking down at my crotch, I cursed. Not even thirty seconds and my cock was standing at attention. I wanted so badly to rub one out, knowing that the sight of her in that bikini would give me enough to work with for the rest of the goddamn month. But I didn't.

Thinking back on it, maybe I should have. Maybe things wouldn't have played out the way they did if I'd just stayed in the office and touched myself. Maybe I would've gotten it out of my system instead of allowing it to build up. But I didn't...and honestly, I don't regret it.

For the next hour or so, I tried to focus on work. It wasn't happening. My cock was begging for attention. For Amy's attention. I could barely think straight. It got to the point where I'd realize that I'd been absently stroking myself through my shorts. Fuck it. I needed to cool off. Go for a swim or something.

After changing into my swim trunks, I jogged out to the pool. A stupid part of me wondered if my daughter would appreciate how in shape I was. Not many dads in their late 40s still had abs, after all. But I shouldn't have bothered with the thought. Amy was fast asleep in the sun, bikini still wet from a recent dip.

I swam quietly, trying not to wake her. When I surfaced and pulled myself to the edge nearest her, I realized that my eyes were level with her body. The white fabric of her swimsuit had gone nearly transparent from the water, and I could see that her pussy was shaven bare. Her nipples were a deep, dusty rose color that matched her lips. I hadn't even realized that I'd moved until I was kneeling beside her, my cock in my hand, the ground hot against the skin of my knees.

Put your goddamn dick away, I told myself. C'mon, just put it away and go upstairs. But I couldn't move. It was as if I was in a sort of trance, my fingers moving over my engorged cock as I leaned over my daughter's unconscious form.

But as suddenly as it started the spell broke. I stumbled backwards, stunned by the sheer recklessness of my actions, stuffing my cock back into my shorts. What if she'd woken to find me like that? Masturbating in front of her? I backed into a table, wincing as the cup atop it fell over.

Yet still she slept on.

That night, I found myself unable to sleep. Desire made it impossible to rest, and even hours later, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about her. Frustrated (in more ways than one), I got out of bed to fetch a glass of water. Instead of making my way to the kitchen, however, I found myself heading down the hall towards my daughter's bedroom. Her door had no lock and opened easily for me. Amy did not stir, not even when light from the hall fell across her face.

In that moment, all rationale left me. Through the crack in the door, I watched as she kicked off her blankets, sprawling atop them. She'd worn a cropped T-shirt to bed, and it rode up to reveal the naked skin of her breasts. Her nipples, puffy and pink, pebbled in response, and I imagined taking them between my lips. I felt myself hardening, seeking her warmth.

I could stand it no longer.

Pushing down the band of my boxers, I sighed in relief as my dick sprang free--thick, veined, and aching. My gaze moved lower, memorizing the curve of her narrow waist and flare of her hips. Between her legs was nothing but a scrap of black lace. It had shifted to one side during sleep, revealing her bare, virgin cunt. My cock throbbed at the sight of her, and I bit back a groan of desire. I hadn't even realized I'd moved into the room until I felt my shins press against the side of the mattress.

Standing at the foot of her bed, I gazed longingly at her folds, picturing my cock between her legs and driving in deep. Stroking up and down my shaft's hard, velvet length, I watched her breasts move as she breathed. This can be enough, I told myself. You can get off without ever touching her. But I knew it was a lie. I'd only ever want more. Gripping myself harder, I moaned softly as she writhed in her sleep. I pictured her moving like that beneath me and came with a muffled groan, catching my seed in my hand.

I touched myself almost every night after that, getting off on my daughter's sleeping form. But it wasn't enough--I wanted more. No, I needed more. Needed to feel, to touch, to hold. Every night, my hands itched to move closer, the lust becoming blinding. Days turned to weeks, and weeks into a month. I didn't know how much longer I could go before I crossed that line...

It didn't take long.

Late one night, while her mother was away at a conference, I woke to the sound of the door slamming shut. Amy had gone out with her friends, and I must've dozed off while waiting for her. As she stumbled past the living room, I glanced at the clock and frowned. It was nearly one in the morning.

"Amy." She froze at the sound of my voice, turning guiltily to face me. "You're late. It's way past curfew."

She bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. "I know, daddy, I'm sorry," she mumbled. From the sound of her voice, I could tell that she'd been drinking.

Sighing, I rubbed my hand over my face and motioned for her to join me on the couch. "Have you been drinking, sweetheart?"

She flushed. "No, daddy."

"Don't lie to me, Amy." I watched as she fidgeted in response, her fingers toying with the hem of her skirt. It was so short that I caught a flash of her pink panties as she sank into the cushion beside me.

"Just a little," Amy admitted. "Not much, I promise."

"It's not legal to drink at your age, honey. You could get into a lot of trouble," I reminded her. "This isn't like you. What's going on?"

"I just--I just don't want to go to college not having tried anything!"

"Next time, you tell me that. I'd rather you drink here with me so that you can learn your limits."

"Limits?" she asked, confused.

"Alcohol can lower your inhibitions--make it easy for people to take advantage of you," I explained gently. "That's why I'd rather you ask me first. So, if you want to drink, let's drink."

Amy nodded hesitantly, and I took her hand, leading her into the kitchen. We spent the next hour or so taking shots of every liquor we had stored in the house. As we drank, Amy made a list on her phone of everything she liked and disliked, her spelling growing increasingly atrocious with ever addition.

"Sweetheart," I slurred, "what else did you mean when you said you 'didn't want to go to college not having tried anything'?"

Amy, who was now sitting atop the counter, downed her drink before answering. "I think alcohol...and boys," she answered finally.

"Oh?" I didn't say anything else, waiting for her to go on.

Amy made a face. "You sent me to an all-girls school, remember? I don't have any experience with boys. I've never done...you know, things." She trailed off, unwilling to meet my gaze.

"But you want to." A statement, this time, not a question.

"Yes," she whispered, cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

I shrugged. "No need to be shy, princess. This is all very natural. Tell me what you want."

"I--I don't know what I want," Amy stuttered. "I just know that I want. I get this feeling...you know? Kind of like something's winding up inside me, except it has nowhere to go. And I don't know how to make it go away, either."

"Do you have that feeling now?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level.

"Yes," she breathed, pupil dilating. "Do you know what it means?"

I moved closer, stepping between her legs. "It means you want a man to make you feel good." At those words, Amy's chest began to rise and fall rapidly, her nipples hardening against a top that was more bra than shirt.

"Feel...good?"

"Better than you've ever felt before," I promised, bracing an arm on either side of her. "But boys can't really give you that, Amy. Only a man. Someone older. Wiser. Someone...experienced."

Her eyes were glassy, glazed with arousal as she stared up at me. "How do they do that?"

"Let me show you."

Placing my hands on her waist, I pulled her to the edge of the counter. Her skirt had ridden up around her hips, exposing a lacy pink thong, which I fit against my erection.

Amy gasped. "Daddy! I don't know if this is allowed!" She tried to wriggle free, the motion causing her clit to rub against the clothed head of my cock. Amy moaned, hips reflexively rolling as she sought to recreate the friction.

"Shhh," I whispered, "nothing that feels this good can be bad, right? It can be our little secret."

"But I'm your daughter--"

I cut her off, placing a finger to her lips. "You said you wanted to learn, didn't you?"

"Yes," she whimpered. "But--"

"No one else will be able to teach you, angel. Not like I can." I moved against her, causing her to squeal and grip my shoulders. "Besides, we aren't even touching now, are we?"

As much as my body protested, I knew that I had to move slowly. That she had to be introduced incrementally--to the idea of me, to this, to us. Deliberately, I angled myself so that I slid over her clit with every thrust. Crying out, Amy rocked into me, her arousal dampening the front of her panties. Cupping her ass, I brought us even closer together, grinding down into her until she came screaming in my arms. Spent, she nodded off as I carried her to bed.

The next morning, I pretended as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. I knew that with the day would come doubt and uncertainty, likely undoing much of the progress I'd made the night before. It was nearly noon before Amy joined me in the kitchen for breakfast. She said little, sneaking glances at me when she thought my attention was diverted. She looked unfocused and a bit flustered, as though recalling last night's events. While I didn't want to spook her, I knew that our time alone was limited. My wife would be back from the conference tomorrow, and I had to make use of her absence.

Over the next few hours, I re-acquainted Amy with my touch. I kept my caresses innocent at first, my fingers grazing along her arms, her legs, her back. She startled at first, nervous, but soon relaxed into them. As time passed, my hands began to wander, resting high on her thigh while she sat beside me, or lingering on the curve of her ass when we hugged. Briefly, while pretending to reach for a glass, I'd even ground my erection into her from behind. With every encounter, I could hear her heart beating faster. But she never tried to pull away. A few times she even leaned into the embraces, little sighs falling from her lips.

It was late afternoon by the time I decided to move forward with the next stage of my plan. Calling for Amy to join me in the living room, I queued up some adult videos on television. Each featured an older man with a younger girl who called him "daddy." I wanted Amy to see it, to normalize it for her in some way. Moments later, my daughter entered the room, stopping short when she caught sight of the screen.

"What's this, daddy?" she asked, coming to sit beside me. Evidently on her way to the pool, she wore nothing but that damn white bikini.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, I settled us back into the cushions and pressed play. "You asked me how a man can make you feel good. These are some of the ways."

Her gaze widened as the sound of sex filled the room. She never took her eyes off the TV and mine never left her. I watched as her nipples hardened beneath her swimsuit, tracked her fingers as they inched their way closer to the apex of her thighs. Only two videos in, and her bikini bottoms were soaked and clinging to her. I moved a hand upwards to cup her breasts, my cock throbbing as she moaned in response.

Dipping my head, I brought my lips to her ear. "Do you like how that daddy is making his little girl feel?" I murmured. Amy gasped, nodding frantically. "Do you want me to make you feel like that, sweetheart?" Overwhelmed by arousal, she nodded again.

Wasting no time, I undid the knot holding her top together so that the strings trailed down her shoulders. Her head fell back as I lowered my mouth to her throat, flicking my tongue over her racing pulse. Panting, Amy fisted her hands in my hair, arching into my touch as I laid her back on the couch.

Wanting to savor the moment, I sat back, hooking my fingers into the sides of her bikini bottoms as I pulled them slowly down her legs. Amy shivered beneath me, goosebumps springing up to follow my touch. Already hard, my cock strained at my zipper. It throbbed at the sight of my daughter laid completely bare before me. Gently, I bent her knees and pushed them apart, revealing her pretty pink pussy.