Little Red Riding HoodbyRainierWriterII©
Although this was submitted for the 2010 Halloween Story Contest, please be aware that it falls under the INCEST category - those opposed should avoid.
Many thanks to Gayle for editing my mess!
As always, comments welcome and please remember to vote!
Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. Growing up, most of my friends liked Christmas better as they always anticipated a large haul of gifts from Santa. I, on the other hand, loved everything about Halloween, from the costumes to the candy and everything in between.
As an adult, my love of all things Halloween is just as strong as when I was small. Fortunately, my only daughter, Emma, embraced it just as I always had, even more so if that was possible. My ex-wife thought we were childish, making such a big deal of things, but it was a special passion shared between father and daughter that was priceless to me.
From the time Emma was a child she was constantly delving into her mother's closet, trying on new outfits and playing dress-up. Because of this, it was no surprise to find her as enthusiastic about Halloween as she aged, each year spending a great deal of time picking out the perfect costume. Her outfits were almost always sweet and innocent, as opposed to the gruesome attire some chose to wear.
Emma also loved to help me decorate the house and hand out the candy, even more than getting her own. Our home was a must see for all the kids in the neighborhood as we went over the top with spooky stuff, almost all homemade by the two of us.
After our divorce just four years ago, my ex wife and I agreed on joint custody of Emma, which overall worked out well. Emma came and went between our two homes without much trouble, but thankfully gravitated to my home almost exclusively during the run up to Halloween.
The last few years, Emma has hosted a pumpkin carving party at our home for her closest friends the Saturday evening before Halloween. Usually a few days before the party, the two of us would go to a local farm and select a car load of pumpkins and bring them home to clean out before the big event. It was a lot of work, but was totally worth it as everyone enjoyed the get together, particularly my daughter and I.
One week before the party, Emma and I had gotten up early to hit the local farm to select our hoard of pumpkins for the party. It was a beautiful, sunny Saturday, but a bit on the brisk side, so it had a really nice fall feel. We drove under a canopy of fall colors in the trees above the road. It seemed like we were in a yellow, orange and red tunnel as we made our way to the small farm on the outside of town.
Emma looked beautiful as we wandered the fields under the bright sun. The chill put a hint of color in her cheeks, while her long blonde hair was occasionally tossed by the gusts that blew leaves across our path. She was dressed in an old pair of jeans which molded to her lithe young bottom and legs, with a baby blue fleece jacket which really highlighted the color of her eyes. She really was a stunning young lady, but looked far more mature than her eighteen years.
Candidly, I had been much more aware of her physical attributes since the 'incident' a few months before. Shortly after Emma's eighteenth birthday, I arrived home from work earlier than usual one evening. Apparently she had not heard me enter the house, because after a shower she exited the bathroom completely naked, rubbing her hair with a towel as she walked to her room. We almost bumped into one another, and I don't know who was more shocked, her or I.
Before she was able to cover herself, I got an eyeful of the most lovely figure I'd ever seen. Even though it lasted the briefest of moments, the image was burned into my brain. I had not seen her in that state of undress since she was a child, and she certainly had changed. Her breasts were full, maybe a C cup, with pretty pink nipples. Her tummy was tight, and her hips flared out slightly above her long, sleek legs. I also noticed her crotch was completely shaven, clearly displaying her womanhood to my surprised eyes. I was forced to shake my head to clear the thoughts as we walked about the field.
I had learned from experience that picking out pumpkins was serious business for my daughter, just as it always had been for me. We spent hours scouring the fields for the perfect specimens, making sure they were suitable for carving. After we found a keeper, I was tasked to scoop it up and add it to the cart I diligently pulled behind us. I had to return to my car four times to unload all the pumpkins we selected, filling the trunk completely before we headed for home.
Emma spoke excitedly about her upcoming party as we drove. It always amazed me that in most ways she was every bit the mature young lady, but at times like that she could display the childish enthusiasm of a girl a fraction of her age. Candidly it was refreshing because the time went by so fast and it was nice to think of her as my little girl at times, not the adult she clearly was. Our time together was extra special because at that same time next year she'd be off at college for the first time, so I wanted to cherish every moment.
We spent the next week decorating the house and yard, enjoying each other's company as much as the work, making things exceptionally pleasant. There were giant spiders and webs over all the doors and most of the windows, with fake rats and black cats perched around the yard. We used some of my old clothes to build a wonderful scarecrow, which we placed on an old whiskey barrel near the front door. The place really looked great, if I do say so myself.
The day of Emma's party arrived and we huddled in the garage as we always had to complete one of the last major projects. We put a layer of newspaper down on the concrete floor, and then set the load of pumpkins on top in preparation for the messy work ahead. We sat near one another on old patio furniture cushions as we worked in tandem. I would wield a large knife to carve a lid out of the top, and then hand it over to Emma to begin scraping the guts out.
My job was much easier, so after I finished opening all the pumpkins, I jumped in and began cleaning them out as well. The task at hand was not particularly pleasant, but we attended to it diligently as we knew how much people enjoyed the carving contest.
After two hours or so, we had a number of buckets filled with slimy orange pulp and the dirty work was largely done. My lower back was sore from sitting on the floor, so I rolled onto the cushion to stretch and rest for a moment.
Emma was clearly in a playful mood, because she jokingly tossed a small glob of the pulp at me, which landed with a splat on my chin. She giggled hysterically as the wet sludge clung to my face like some kind of orange alien attacking my face.
Her laughter invigorated me, and suddenly my back felt better than before. Of course I felt compelled to answer her volley with one of my own. I sat up and grabbed a large handful of slimy seeds, and flung it her way, which landed with squarely across her chest.
Only a moment later, we were each digging in the sloppy wet goo to use as artillery. Handful after handful went flying in the air as we wrestled on the floor, laughing like children. We coated one another in an orange froth, making a mess of the garage in the process.
At one point I found myself on my back once more, but with Emma straddling my midsection. She was trying to rub the orange gunk into my face while I fought to keep her away. I grabbed her wrists with one hand as my other went to her chest to force her back. All of the sudden I realized that my palm was cupping her left breasts as we struggled against one another.
I was shocked at where my hand had landed, but Emma didn't seem to notice as she continued her assault. Her perky young bottom bounced up and down upon my groin as we fought, almost as if she was grinding herself into me. I had played sexual games like that when I was a teen, but certainly had never done anything like that with my daughter before.
The overt eroticism of the situation overwhelmed me, and my body began to react on its own. Blood flowed to my crotch as I felt the telltale signs of an erection coming on, which surprised me greatly. I had to break away to avoid the embarrassment and shame of my daughter feeling my hardening cock against her sex. I quickly rolled to my side and forced her off in a sweeping motion, then moved away from her a few feet. Emma looked as though she was about to pounce once more, so before she could attack I barked, "Enough."
We sat upon the floor gasping for breath as we recovered from all the exertion. Emma stared at me intently, and I wondered if the game was really over. I noticed something new in her eyes I had never seen before. Sure there was her devilish grin when she was up to no good, but there was something more.
I had to break eye contact with her as I was afraid she'd see how horny our little battle made me. My eyes moved downward and I couldn't help but take in her supple young form. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple white tee shirt, both of which were now covered in orange. The shirt was wet with the slime, and I could clearly make out her hard nipples poking through the fabric. Her breasts were heaving as she tried to catch her breath, and I could see them jiggle a bit, as they were clearly unencumbered.
My eyes moved back to her face and I found that her grin had widened, almost as if she knew exactly where I had looked and what I was thinking. We sat in silence for a while, gazing intently upon one another. Her hair was tossed about and she was sweating a bit, and in spite of the mess on her clothes, she actually looked sexy.
My cock was harder than ever, and I drew my knees up to shield it from her view. I saw her eyes move rapidly to my crotch, and I hoped she couldn't see the tent mounding my pants obscenely.
I was at a loss for words for a while, but then finally was able to utter, "Well, I guess we should get cleaned up."
Emma must have assumed I was joking, because she tossed another handful of pulp my way with a giggle. I really wasn't mad at her, more embarrassed by my condition, so in frustration I barked, "I said enough!"
She looked surprised by my outburst, but just shook her head ruefully. "Aw, you're a party pooper, Daddy," she teased, but began scraping the sludge off her arms and deposited it back in the buckets. She scratched at a large spot near her left nipple as she looked into my eyes, and I couldn't help but think she was trying to tease me, so I quickly averted my eyes.
I rolled over and turned away from her, hiding my erection as best as possible. I attempted to clear my head as I cleaned my body off, yet it was extremely difficult. The truth is, I always thought my daughter was stunning. She had the face of an angel but a body that was built for sin, two things I usually loved.
The cleanup was more grueling than expected as the room was a complete disaster. It was difficult to concentrate on the task at hand with my mind in such a troubled state, made even more challenging by Emma's constant presence so close to me. Her tee shirt was still clinging to her chest and her nipples were puffy, making my cock semi-erect the entire time.
After almost an hour, the garage was barely passable, so we wrapped things up and carried all the pumpkins out onto the back porch where the carving contest would be held later that evening. When we reentered the house, we stood side by side in the kitchen and washed our hands.
Emma said my back was covered in pulp, so she helped me pull my shirt off and tossed it into the sink. She then turned towards me and asked, "How's my back, Daddy?"
There were a few large orange spots here and there, but I was not about to pull her top off, so I said she wasn't too bad. A look of disappointment fell over her face, and I wondered if she really expected me to pull it off, knowing she didn't have a bra on.
We finished washing our hands, and then set about finishing a few last minute items. Since most of the other work for the party was done, we then retired to our rooms to shower and dress for the evening's festivities.
As always, Emma and I dressed in costume for the occasion, as did all the guests. For a few years now, she had dressed in tandem with her boyfriend. For example, last Halloween they went as Dorothy and the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz. However, Kyle and Emma broke up a few months back and she was single for the party for first time in a while. She told me she loved dressing as a couple and asked if I'd be willing to accompany her, and of course I accepted. How could I disappoint my baby?
It took her quite a while to narrow the choices, but she finally settled on Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf for the two of us. I knew Emma would look amazing in her outfit, but candidly was skeptical of a wolf costume for myself. I must say however, when I tried it on I was really pleased. The attire actually made me look quite fierce, complete with long fangs, which I loved.
After dressing I made my way to the kitchen, and made busy work for myself as I awaited Emma's arrival. When she finally entered the room, my jaw almost hit the floor. The costume was simply made for her. It was the perfect blend of sweet and sexy.
My eyes slowly wandered from her head to her toes, as I soaked in her beauty. Emma's Red Riding Hood was decidedly less innocent than any fairy tale I remembered from childhood. The red cloak that draped her hair and spilled below her shoulders was short, not even waist-length, and it somehow called attention to her lips. She licked them nervously and I choked back a moan, taking in the unwittingly provocative gesture with her sexy-by-design look. A white capped-sleeved blouse with ruffles and an off-the-shoulder neckline was cinched in by a black corset, the ribbon ties working to lift Emma's breasts and create cleavage that I would have thought impossible on a girl her age, even with her curves. It tapered toward a short little skirt that seemed to dare someone to flip it up above her hips to bare the treasures beneath. The skirt was red and pleated and tucked so that it seemed ridiculously full given that its hem flitted only inches away from revealing her bottom. She wore white thigh-high stockings that ended long before reaching her skirt, revealing the tempting golden flesh of her upper thighs. And to top it off, she wore sparkly red pumps that seemed to make those delectable thighs - and the rest of her shapely legs - go on forever. I was pretty sure those shoes were leftovers from last year's Dorothy costume, but I didn't remember my body reacting to her blue-and-white gingham dress the way I was reacting to her Red Riding Hood costume.
Perhaps my baser instincts were on the rise because of my own get-up, a faux fur bodysuit, gloves, and shoe coverings. Although I suppose that if I really got into character, I wouldn't have been able to look at her without wagging my black wolf tail and licking the snout of my furry costume.
When my eyes returned to hers, Emma's face was glowing with a gigantic smile. I'm not sure what she saw in my face that gave me away so clearly, but she teased, "I take it you like, Daddy."
I felt my cheeks grow warm in embarrassment at being caught red handed checking her out, and mumbled somewhat incoherently, "Umm, yes...very nice, sweetie."
Emma came to me and wrapped me a big hug. She gave me a peck on the cheek and said, "You're so cute, Dad."
I didn't know what to say, but I was afraid I'd grow another erection with her pressed so close. I desperately needed to put some distance between us, so I tried to distract her by changing the subject and said, "Let's make sure everything's ready for your guests."
Emma gave me a soft smile, then nodded before she walked away to attend to finalize preparations. I nervously wiped sweat off my brow, feeling warm all over, more from my predicament than the thick, furry costume.
I was stunned at how my daughter was able to throw me off my game so easily. Normally I'm quite confident, but being caught gawking was bad enough, but by my own flesh and blood was inexcusable.
Shortly thereafter the guests started to trickle in, and before long the party was in full swing. There were somewhere near twenty kids in attendance, roughly half each of boys and girls, each dressed in costume. I must say they all did a nice job picking out their attire for the evening, which I knew Emma would appreciate.
Since it was Emma's party, I tried to make myself scarce and let the kids have a good time with little supervision. For whatever reason, she would have none of that and kept pulling me back into the action from wherever I had disappeared to. I was gratified that an eighteen year old girl would want her dad around her friends, but still felt uncomfortable being near her given the lurid thoughts that were running around in my head.
At one point, Emma looked up at me and seemed to stare directly into my soul. She grabbed my hands and gave me a coy smile, and then said, "My, what big eyes you have."
She was clearly channeling her role as Little Red Riding Hood, and I felt my face twist into a grin. I immediately knew how to respond, and replied, "All the better to see you with, my dear."
Emma looked amazingly cute as her cheeks grew a tad red. She gave my hands a soft squeeze, then turned and walked away without another word.
I was a bit puzzled by her actions, and wondered just what was going on in her head. If she was anyone else I'd swear she was being flirtatious, but my daughter? I suddenly felt very warm again, and dismissed myself from the group to go outdoors to cool off for a bit.
As I stood alone outside, I couldn't help but get Emma out of my mind. There were a number of lovely women in attendance, a few of whom wore very skimpy costumes, but none could compare to my beautiful baby girl. Very simply, she was a vision. I began to lecture myself silently to get my shit together and act like an adult.
After a long breather, I went back in and grabbed an ice cold beer from the refrigerator. I stood in the kitchen sipping it for a while, as my eyes wandered out into the living room at the other young ladies. I hoped I'd find someone sexier than Emma, but that just wasn't going to happen.
My eyes once again found her, and she instantly smiled back at me above the crowd. A tingle ran down my spine as I saw the twinkle in her beautiful blue eyes. I wanted to look away, but she was like a magnet holding my gaze.
Suddenly I saw her walking towards me. She once again pulled me into an embrace, and whispered in my ear, "My, what big hands you have."
My arms were limp at my sides, afraid I'd display too much affection, but I slowly moved my hands up and gave her a long, firm squeeze. I leaned in and responded, "All the better to hold you with, my child."
Emma rested her head on my shoulder, and let out a contented sigh. I don't think I'd ever heard anything so sweet in my life, and gripped her even tighter. For a moment, my head felt like it was awash in a warm, wonderful sea, kept afloat only by my undying love for her. Suddenly I remembered where I was and quickly scanned the room to see if people were staring at our loving display.
Fortunately, everyone seemed otherwise occupied and didn't seem to notice us in the least. I still felt guilty, so I reluctantly broke away from Emma and gave her a weak smile. She did the same, just before she disappeared back into her crowd of friends.
A short time later, I heard Emma's voice above the din as she announced that it was time to begin the pumpkin carving contest. I was glad to have something other than my daughter to occupy my mind as everyone moved to the back porch were we had set all the pumpkins earlier.