Six Nights in New York

"Maybe I've got a girlfriend."

"Sure, that too." I stammered, more than a little uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. "That's fine, obviously. If that's what you prefer."

"Don't worry, Dad, I am mostly a cock kind of girl."

"Sadie!" I exclaimed.

"Awww look, you're blushing." She sniggered.

"Well, this isn't a conversation I intended on having." I declared, as if that was going to bring the proceedings to an immediate halt.

"I'm not a little girl anymore, in case you hadn't noticed."

"No, I had certainly noticed that fact."

"I didn't mind you looking, you know." She said, quietly.

"What do you mean?" I responded, a mixture of mock indignation and embarrassment.

"Earlier on, in my room, when I was getting dressed. I didn't mind you looking."

"I wasn't looking. You told me to come in. I knocked." I was almost spluttering now, just about as uncomfortable as I had ever been.

"It's okay, it's okay. You're a guy and I'm a young woman. Quite an attractive young woman, if I say so myself. And I've got fantastic tits. No one would have expected you to do anything else. I quite liked it, actually."

"Sadie, stop being so silly." I said, trying to admonish her, as if she was a naughty girl who'd done something worthy of a stern telling off.

She just smiled and continued eating her dessert.

Eventually we got back to the hotel, and headed to our respective rooms. Once more, she came into my room. Once more, she was wearing nothing but a t-shirt. I was lying in bed, and she sat next to me, her legs draped onto the floor. She wasn't even trying to hide the fact she was naked underneath her shirt. Her legs were crossed, so I couldn't see her slit, but I could see the soft, hairless skin of her pubic mound peeking out at me.

We looked at each other and she smiled. My eyes wandered down to her crotch. She followed them with her own. Then she looked down at me, a visible bulge rising under the sheet of the bed. My nostrils twitched, a familiar odour becoming apparent. Just a trace, but it was there.

Arousal. Female arousal.

She leant forward and kissed me on the lips. Again, no tongue. But again, the kiss lasted longer than it should have done.

"Goodnight, Daddy." She whispered, her hand resting on my chest, her fingers stroking me softly.

"Goodnight, princess." I replied, my heart hammering away like a drill.

She leant further forward, her cheek touching mine, her lips coming up close to my ear.

"I meant it. I don't mind you looking. I like it."

We faced each other, both of us staring intently. Nothing more was said. Then she stood up and walked away.

As soon as she was gone, I rushed to the bathroom and furiously wanked myself off into the hand basin. Within thirty seconds I was spraying ribbons of cum all across the porcelain. I looked up at the mirror, my cock still in hand, creamy fluid dripping down. I exhaled loudly, fully aware of how fucked up this situation was becoming.

Third night

I slept badly that night, in fact I hardly slept at all. Maybe it was still jet lag; maybe it was the odd situation I was experiencing with Sadie. Her behaviour had unnerved me. My response to that behaviour had done likewise. What was she playing at? What was her game? Most importantly, did I want to join in?

We spent the day exploring Manhattan some more, this time heading south to Wall Street. Then we visited the Nine Eleven memorial and museum. We took a ferry over to the Statue of Liberty and then Ellis Island. We had a look round Greenwich Village. We did the things tourists do, even as the city continued to slowly close down, due to the pandemic that was spreading like an invisible enemy.

The weather was fine, sunny but cold. Ostensibly, Sadie was wrapped up against the elements, but she still exuded sexual charisma. She was wearing Ugg boots, thick tights, a short little skirt, a snug sweater, a winter jacket, a hat and scarf. Her freckled cheeks were flushed from the brisk winds running up and down the canyons of Manhattan.

She clung to me all day, her arm wrapped round mine, her body always pressed close. I can't say I didn't exactly enjoy the experience. We laughed easily, we talked endlessly, we flirted without shame. We ate lunch in yet another diner, and I sat opposite her, as she drank a milkshake. When was the last time she had asked me to buy her one of those? It seems to me she had deliberately ordered something to evoke memories of childhood. She was playing up to the role of innocent, youthful daughter. I knew it. She did too.

I reached out to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear. She smiled shyly at me, as I caressed her cheek.

"Are you pulling some kind of trick on me?" I asked her.

"I don't know what you mean." She replied, studying me intently.

"I think you do. I think you know exactly what I mean. Something's going on between us."

"Something?"

"Something."

"Oh, something." She said sagely. "What kind of something?"

"The flirting. The kissing. Letting me see you half-undressed. That kind of something."

"Does it matter? No one knows us here.

"We know."

"So? Who cares? We're thousands of miles away from our normal lives. We can be anything we want."

"Anything?"

"Anything at all. We can be father and daughter or we can be..."

"Yes?"

"Something else." She whispered.

"I don't know, this feels kind of dangerous."

"Yes, but it feels kind of exciting too." She said, smiling at me.

"Things could get out of hand. You might end up unleashing something you can't control."

"I know. That's kind of exciting too."

That night she came to my room, wearing a shorter, tighter t-shirt, everything beneath her waist clearly on display. Her silky smooth snatch totally exposed. She lifted herself up on tiptoes once more and kissed me firmly on the mouth. I grabbed hold of her naked buttocks, cupping them gently. Our physical interactions were obviously different now, I was responding to her as a woman, not as my daughter.

"Goodnight, Daddy."

"Goodnight, pumpkin."

She sauntered off, her body rolling and swaying seductively. I watched every step. She seemed to deliberately leave the door open, just a little bit.

No more than five or ten minutes later, I heard the soft moans and groans emanating from her room. I understood exactly what she was doing, but I wanted to see her with my own eyes. I tentatively walked up to the connecting door, peaking through and seeing my daughter lying on her bed.

She was naked and she was masturbating.

She lay at the top of the bed, supported by a pile of pillows. All the lights were on, she was clearly determined to make sure I wouldn't miss a thing. Her legs were spread wide apart, and her hand was rubbing away furiously at her clit. The other hand was cupping her breast, squeezing and fondling her luxurious flesh.

This wasn't the first time I had seen her naked, she was my daughter after all. It wasn't even the first time I had seen her mostly naked on this trip. But it was the first time I had seen her totally exposed in such a visceral and overtly sexual way. She was on display, pleasuring herself in the most shameless and unselfconscious manner imaginable.

Her gorgeous red hair was fanned out round her head like a crimson crown. Her beautiful face was contorted in the occasional grimaces of arousal and pleasure. Her tongue snaked out of her mouth, licking her lips lasciviously.

And her body? Holy fuck, her body.

I had said her figure was not quite as buxom or curvaceous as her mother's. But now I realised I was quite, quite wrong. The peaks and troughs of her physical form were astonishing. The steep ascent of her breasts, the concave descent of her stomach. Her soft, silky skin almost glowed with perfection.

She tugged and twisted at her nipples, as she jerked herself off. Every few moments she would bring her fingers to her mouth, her tongue lapping between them. Tasting herself. Lubricating herself. I could see her cunt, enflamed and red raw, glistening with her juices. Beads of shiny liquid trickling down between the folds of her neat vaginal lips.

My eyes hovered all over her naked flesh, taking note of the way the muscles in her legs would flex and pulse. Or how her toes would curl up as she came. She was cumming again and again, that was obvious from the way her body shook and spasmed. Obvious too from the little guttural moans and squeals emanating from her throat. She wasn't my daughter. She wasn't even a woman. She was an animal. A groaning, panting, masturbating animal.

There was no pretence from her that she didn't know I was there. She was staring intently at me as she pleasured herself. There wasn't a shred of embarrassment or concern. She wanted me to see her like this. She wanted me as a witness. A co-conspirator.

I was stood in the darkness of the doorway, most of my body hidden from sight. My dick was hard and straining against my boxer shorts. I reached down to stroke it, my palm pressed against the firm, tense flesh. I rubbed myself slowly through the material, the sight of my naked teenage daughter the only thing that mattered. The only stimulus I needed.

There was a sheen of sweat on her body, her skin was flushed, her nipples erect. What a sight to behold, this adorable nymphet, all tits and hips, contorted and writhing on the bed.

She was becoming noisier and noisier, as her sexual pleasure built. I shared in her excitement, my hand squeezing my cock tighter and tighter. Her hand returned to her cunt, her fingers hooking inside herself, sliding in and out as she violently masturbated in front of me. Her fist was almost a blur, her movements frenzied and sustained.

"Daddy!" She screamed. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

I didn't reply. I just watched as she exploded, a shower of liquid erupting from inside her core, splattering and splashing all over her legs, her belly and the sheets beneath her. Her orgasm triggered mine and, for the first time since I was a teenager, I came in my pants. The front of my shorts darkening, as gobs of creamy jizz soaked the material. I gasped, but didn't say a word. Instead I retreated back into the darkness of my room and closed the door between us.

Fourth night

As unsettling - and exciting - as these events had proven to be, I actually slept pretty well that night. I had cleaned myself up in the bathroom, soaking my cum-stained shorts in the basin, before getting into bed. For a while I wondered if Sadie might come in and try to join me, but she stayed in her room and I stayed in mine.

The next morning, I got up and ventured next door, to see how my daughter was faring. I was slightly trepidatious, wondering what state of undress I might find her in, but the room was empty. Next to the television was a note. I lifted it up, and saw it was from Sadie. Like her mother, she had beautiful penmanship, and I quickly digested her words.

Dad,

I thought it might make sense for the two of us to spend a little time apart. We both have things to think about, don't we? We both have decisions to make about what we do next. When I come back this evening, I want you to take me out on the town. We'll both dress up and find somewhere nice to eat, and then we'll go to the top of the Empire State Building.

Isn't that romantic?

Actually, I was lying when I said we both have decisions to make. I have already made my decision. I know what I want. I can only hope you might want the same thing.

All my love,

Your daughter, Sadie

xxxxx

I sat down on the bed, contemplating what she had written. I understood what she was saying, all too well. I knew what she was asking for, and God help me, I think I knew what my answer would be. Next to me was one of the t-shirts she had been using as a nightdress. I lifted it up and brought it to my face, inhaling the sweet scent of her, breathing deeply.

In all likelihood, if I was correct about my assumptions, before the day was done, there was every chance I would be fucking my daughter. She was clearly offering herself to me. The question is, would I accept?

Eventually, I got dressed and went for a stroll. A stroll that lasted for hours. I just wandered round the streets of Manhattan, no destination in mind, thoughts of Sadie running through my head. Everything was probably quieter than normal, more and more people staying inside, but I didn't really notice. Looking back at that period, the spread of the virus almost faded into the background. It seemed kind of trivial compared with what was happening with me and my daughter. Self-obsessed, much?

In the early evening I returned to the hotel. Sadie was back and she was watching television in her room. She was sat casually on her bed, legs crossed, wearing tracksuit bottoms and a skimpy top.

"Now they're closing the schools." She said, her eyes glued to the screen.

"Oh, really?" I replied, in a casual tone.

"Where are we going for our meal?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure what's still open. Perhaps we should try Chinatown?"

"Oh yeah, that sounds like a great idea."

About an hour later, she came into my room, once more dressed to impress. She had on her new shoes, but a different dress; this one even shorter than the one she wore a couple of nights earlier.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart."

"Thank you, Daddy."

She did a little twirl, highlighting her outfit, showcasing her figure. I took a moment to admire the view, before putting on my jacket and leading her out of the room. We took the Subway downtown, neither of us realising quite what a risk we might have been taking. In hindsight, we were probably incredibly lucky not to catch the damn virus, travelling on the city's metro system. There were so many things we didn't know back then.

Most of the restaurants were empty, so many people already voluntarily sheltering in place, long before any official order had been issued. What a strange few days that was, one of the world's major cities slowly closing down before our eyes. And yet I was too obsessed with what was happening between me and my daughter, to really notice or pay attention.

Our meal was a little subdued, neither of us knew what to say to one another. But we were communicating in other ways; the way our eyes met across the table, the way our hands brushed together, the way we smiled shyly at one another. The sexual tension was palpable.

We finished our meal and then, exactly as promised, we made our way to the Empire State Building. This was not my first time in New York and it wasn't the first time I had been to the top of this particular tourist attraction, but I had never seen it this quiet. Normally you'd have to queue to get through security, but we just strolled through. The lifts up to the top were empty, and there was hardly anyone on the viewing platform.

Sadie took my hand and we walked round the top of the building. It is a case of stating the bleeding obvious, but Manhattan is a spectacular sight, especially so at night, from this particular vantage point. The city lights sparkled below us, the sounds of sirens and car horns could still be heard. She pointed at this building and that, her eyes wide in excitement and joy. I looked at her, more than the view, my fingers intertwined with hers.

We arrived at the northeast corner, facing onto the Chrysler Building, its extraordinary art-deco summit illuminating the night sky. Sadie stood silently and I hovered behind her for a moment, before wrapping my arms round her shoulders and embracing her firmly. She leaned back against me, as I nuzzled at her neck, smelling her fresh, luxuriant hair, kissing her soft exposed skin.

The pair of us stood there for a minute or two, just savouring the shared moment of intense intimacy, but then she turned round and kissed me. She didn't have to reach up on tiptoes now, her new shoes doing the job of mostly levelling up our heights. As her lips touched mine, her tongue snaked out and searched for my mouth. My lips parted and my tongue met hers, and soon we were making out like newlyweds.

I pushed her backwards against the wall, pressing my body onto her. My arms tightening round her, pulling her into me, closer and closer. We were kissing like it was a school disco, our mouths wide open, our tongues duelling and stabbing and rolling around with a passion and intensity I hadn't felt in years.

Since there were so few people present, there wasn't much of an audience for us getting hot and heavy. But why would we have looked that unusual? No one knew who we were or, crucially, how we were related to each other. I was just an older man making out with a younger woman. Maybe our age difference might have incurred the disdainful stares of one or two people, but I imagine most people wouldn't have cared less.

How many couples have kissed on top of the Empire State Building? Apart from King Kong and Fay Wray of course. Although, thinking about it, I don't believe the big ape ever got to smooch with his beloved. Thousands, perhaps millions of couples had locked lips up here. How many of those couples were close family members, though? There's the rub. Do I think Sadie and I were the only father and daughter to behave this way? No, I do not. But the US Census Bureau doesn't keep statistics for this kind of thing, I'm sure.

After a few moments, I pulled back. Both of us were flushed and breathing heavily. Our eyes met in an intense connection.

"You're hard." She murmured. "I can feel how hard you are."

"Only because of you." I responded. "That's the effect you have on me."

"I'm wet." She whispered. "That's the effect you have on me."

"I want to fuck you. I want to be inside you."

"I want you to cum inside me."

I paused.

"We better get a cab, then."

So we did. We rushed back inside the building and headed straight to the lift going down. Once more, we were on our own and, as soon as the doors closed, she leapt up into my arms, squealing as she wrapped her legs round my waist. Her skirt lifted up, revealing her creamy thighs and black stocking tops. We kissed all the way down, as my hands roamed over her legs and buttocks.

When we got to ground level, we flagged down a taxi and gave the name of the hotel. The driver pulled away, and we started fooling around on the back seat. If our driver wanted us to use our seatbelts, he never said. Sadie clambered onto my lap, and my hand disappeared between her legs. Within a matter of seconds my fingers were inside her knickers and I was fingering her twat. She hadn't been lying about being wet. She was soaked. Her juices trickled down my hand and onto the plastic-lined upholstery below.

As my fingers sawed in and out of her enflamed gash, I rubbed her clit with my thumb. I could feel that hard pearl pushing against my skin, and she gasped as I plundered her honeyed box.

"Oh fuck, Daddy." She whispered, trying to keep her voice down, squirming and writhing on top of me. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, you're going to make me cum. You're going to make your little girl cum."

"Do it. Do it now." I hissed. "Cum on your Daddy's hand."

"Oh Christ!" She screamed into my mouth as she orgasmed. My tongue meeting hers once more.

I continued to finger her twat with one hand, as I reached round to fondle her arse with the other. Her dress had become completely hitched up round her waist, her black g-string fully on display. The driver did a manful job of trying to ignore the steamy goings on in the back of his cab.

The taxi pulled up outside the hotel and we practically fell out of the back door. I threw a handful of notes at the driver and we rushed inside. Our kissing and groping and fondling continued all the way to my bedroom door. Frantically I tried to find my keycard, needing to slot it in several times before the damn door finally opened.