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To Diddle Your Daughter



Carl Rogers tried to focus on the laptop computer at his fingertips, and the stock report he was lazily generating, but it was tough. He was used to his cubicle at work. Staying home at midday and staring out upon his sun-soaked backyard was hurting his productivity.

'Slam!' He heard the familiar thud of his 4x4 door slamming, in the driveway, on the other side of the house. 'Damn it Samantha!' he thought, 'How many times have I...' He shook his head, and let the thought go. His bedroom door was open, and he could hear the telltale signs of his teenage daughter milling about downstairs. He debated going down to see her, or at least yelling out, since she probably thought no one was home, but refrained and went back to work.

The more she grew, and the more she changed physically, the wider the gap grew between them. Dorothy could still communicate with her, but then they were both pretty blondes, one just younger than the other, and moms were savvy that way. Carl was a confident, good-looking man, but was hopelessly outmaneuvered by his daughter's teenage aura, intuitiveness, and fresh beauty.

Carl passed off his good familiarity with several feminine details of Sam's body as harmless observation. She lived in the same household with him. The female body was still alien to him no matter how many he had seen. As a child she simply kept growing taller, now she was developing in less predictable ways. It was nothing out of the norm. Breasts, especially in larger sizes, only stay solid and cone-like for such few fleeting years. Sixteen simply has to be the prime age for a woman's body. All right! That's enough about that subject, back to work...

Ten minutes later the screech of Todd's car sounded, and Carl expected his seventeen-year-old son to invade the house, noisily, with a crew of friends. He realized he would have to make himself noticed downstairs at this point. When he realized from the faint chatter that it was only his two kids down there after all, he once again hit the laptop. The pounding of two sets of feet on carpeted stairs sounded, and the hiss of a shower soon ensued. Carl clicked away, in rhythm at last. Several paragraphs later, when his mind needed to disconnect yet again from PE ratios and market trends, he wondered who was actually in the shower, and why the other sibling wasn't making any noise anywhere else. It wasn't a very big house, and both kids' bedrooms were down a short hallway from his door.

He needed to get up. He stretched violently, and rubbed his monitor-weary eyes, then glanced outside again. He stepped outside his room and looked down the empty hall, to where Samantha's door was wide open. He decided to go downstairs for a soda, and leave the kids be. Though he had a little more common ground with Todd, both teenagers were fanatical about their personal space. So be it. On his way back upstairs, ten minutes later, he finally approached Sam's open door, and peeked inside.

Both kids were on Sam's unusually high four-post bed, naked. Sam was on her back in a tight fetal position. Todd was above her, his pelvis pressing forcefully just below her buttocks, back arched sharply, and knees digging into the mattress. Her blonde hair spilled everywhere, and her palms gripped the ends of the pillow under her head. Redness and perspiration were obvious on both their relatively pale skins. Carl jumped back out to the hallway, and dug his shoulders into the wall, heart thumping like a jackhammer. 'Shit...!' he whispered, but couldn't move. Tiny little moans were coming from the room. They hadn't noticed him. He decided to stay frozen for a few lingering seconds.

As Carl made his first tentative steps back to his own bedroom, and sane surroundings, he heard actual words emanate from the scene of the crime. He paused to listen but could not distinguish the content. In a brief lapse of his faculties, he found his body hunching down at the foot of Sam's door, and his head straining around the doorsill, to peek... Todd's sinewy body was beside the bed, one leg on the floor, the other folded atop the mattress' outer edge. His arms limp at his sides and head cocked back. Samantha was propped on an elbow, blonde head at her brother's crotch, and the rest of her body sprawled away from Carl's view. Random spurts of quick liquid filled the space between her face and his engorged penis. Carl ducked again, for good this time.

Two days later Carl shared dinner and small-talk with his easygoing wife Dorothy. Impatient with discussing points of landscaping and school tax, Carl goaded Dorothy to another subject altogether. He asked her candid, off-line opinion about how comfortable she was getting a growing amount of gazes from her son Todd.

'I didn't realize he was looking at me.' She said nonchalantly.

'Well. Maybe I notice it more as a guy - I don't know. Are you uncomfortable with it?'

'How can I be uncomfortable with something I didn't notice?' Dorothy half laughed, her friendly demeanor unflapped.

'Look, I've had my hands on you for twenty years now, and I still ogle you around the house... you know... you got some assets.'

She laughed playfully, still unaware they were in serious discussion. 'Well gee; I didn't realize you feel that way. Maybe I have to show you a little more of myself this weekend...' she trailed off. He was hissing uneasily again.

'Dorothy, I'll be straight.' He paused. 'It's up to you to sit him down, privately, when you're both comfortable, and delicately probe the issue. You can even wear something noticeable when you do it, so you can see his real response. And if he's nervous at first, talk him out of it, keep going, see if this is a serious thing or not...'

'Wow! This really is pretty meaningful to you!' She grabbed his leg playfully, being seated as he stood above her. 'But I'm not about to seduce my own son.'

'Dorothy! That's not what I meant! It surely isn't a big deal if you...' He stopped abruptly at the sound of a car engine pulling into the driveway.

The following Thursday Carl left work early again, with a half-hearted intention of working at home, but a stomach full of tension and angst. He headed straight for his bedroom, to which the door was uncharacteristically sealed shut. He hesitated at the doorknob, and decided against it.

He entered the adjoining bathroom from a separate entrance, and pried a small window open, high above the toilet. He stepped on the porcelain throne, and extracted his head and one arm out the window. He glanced down the brown wooden exterior of the house and caught a glimpse into the master bedroom's window. He had never seen this view of the house before, ironically, as he had never seen so many new and bizarre aspects of his own family, and self.

From his odd angle, he could recognize the familiar bed and lampshade. Then he recognized a familiar form sitting upright. His wife. She was dressed, but her breasts were obviously free, hanging almost obscenely. Her body language was reserved, and she was paying attention to something in front, or below her. Todd's messy blonde head appeared briefly, and then disappeared from view again, possibly to between his mother's legs. Carl couldn't see, but it wouldn't have affected him any further. So, he simply withdrew back to the bathroom.

Planning to leave the house unnoticed, Carl made a last-second stop at Samantha's bedroom, peering in, too cautiously.

'Hi baby.'

'Hey Dad,' the teenager responded without looking; propped at her desk with a laptop of her own. Her profile was hidden behind a sheet of hair, lit scorching orange by the soft light of a nearby desk lamp. The pout of her lips actually protruded beyond the blonde curtain. When she spun her head to him at last, he was nearly caught off guard.

He said something to her about getting her some new software, as he made her way to her side. He glided tentative fingers down the soft golden waterfall running down her back, anticipating a cold reaction.

'Todd and mommy are holed up in our bedroom, and I have no idea what they're doing.' It took a second or two for Carl to achieve the full regret about what he just blurted out.

'Whatever,' his daughter responded impatiently.

Carl just stood there numb, thankful she was not looking up into his eyes. 'Sammy, I...'

'What Daddy?'

He gazed down at her. A rock-band tee shirt. Tight dark blue jeans with patches. The amazing hair. The perfect skin of her face and neck, bathed in the flesh-color of the desk lamp.

'Baby, I...'

'Uh-hmm?'

'I don't know what I'm trying to say... it's, part of it is about your mother and brother in that room, part of it, well, it's about my place in this house, it's also about your growing up so fast...'

'Dad, are you trying to fuck me?' she said, almost confrontationally, glaring at him now.

'H-honey-' he sputtered, exhaling. 'I guess I'm just frust- well, maybe...' it finally formalized into words, however ambiguously.

He dreaded her response. She stood up. He made way. She scanned him intently, as if looking for him to fold. He simply exhaled again, looking ashen.

Samantha left the room, with an indiscernible comment, leaving him stranded. He stayed still for a while, not certain what had happened, nor what was going on at that very moment.

She was back quickly, from the bathroom it seemed. She lifted her shirt over her face, exposing a bellybutton sitting an inch above an undone jeans button. When the shirt vanished, her hair flailed like the wings of a fairy. Her heavy breasts sat rigid, in the tightness of a cream-colored bra. Every slope and contour emphasized an incredible firmness, and there was a narrow gap between the mounds. The nipples were dark behind thin embroidery.

She pried the zipper fly apart, and stopped short of tugging down the jeans. She looked at him again, more sympathetically this time.

She whispered, 'My jeans are stuck.'

He motioned her over, and took a seat on the edge of her desk chair.

'Come here,' he told her, taking gentle hold of her naked, narrow waist, turning her around so he faced her ass. He lowered the jeans enough to reveal the matching panties, his nose tickled by her long hair.

With two fingers, he pressed the panty material tightly, wedging it into the crack of her cheeks, and eliciting an involuntary shudder. Faint tan lines ran diagonally down the attractive curvature of her butt. He brought his lips and tongue to the whiter portion of her skin, savoring both flavor and aroma.

Someone intruded on them.

Dorothy and Todd appeared at the door, fully clothed, and registering a good measure of surprise on their faces. Carl, still seated and semi-hunched towards the small of Samantha's back, noticed his girl was actually smiling at the intruders.

'Okay' Dorothy opened 'What is going on here?'

Carl hesitated to answer, and noticed Todd's arrogant teenager sneer. Carl directed his comment at him: 'Todd, go fuck your mom.' Dorothy gasped. But her shock was not completely genuine. Carl remained cool.

'C'mon, go back to the other room, and get it on,' he directed.

'Oh, while you get it on-' Dorothy emphasized the three dirty words '-with our daughter...?'

'Yes.'

Dorothy and Todd actually melted away from view, with symbolic further comment.

Carl rewarded himself with a foot-long lick along his daughter's butt cheeks, which made her coo. Inching the jeans ever further downwards, he bathed the taut, voluptuous buttocks with saliva, and then turned her body around.

The warm, moistened fabric precariously covering her genitalia was rough and tingly to Carl's tongue. The scent was unmistakable though - young, absolutely delicious pussy... He pronged at the center point, where her legs met the tip of her pelvis, where her clitoris would not be far. He sensed pubic hair under the polyester. Very gently, he tried to grab her between his teeth.

Carl moved up her belly. He did not need to get up from the chair. She was relatively short, and his head found level with her bazooms easily. He licked fabric again, but her hands folded upwards behind her back. Shoulder straps fell aside, and the tension of her bra disappeared. As the large C cups fell away, Carl could not discern any sagging at all.

'God bless sixteen-year-old girls!' he thought, as he lapped at a sensitive nipple. The bud became hard at his tongue. It was long enough to pull on with pursed lips. He grabbed a mouthful, tongue slobbering in circles. She hissed. He fondled both rocks, unable to satisfy his palms of the titillating texture. He mouthed at the tender spot, in the creek between the two high hills, giving her chills. This was too much for her, as her arms finally met behind his head in a first touch of affection. He was pleasing her.

'Daddy, I actually don't mind this. At all...'

'That's very sweet honey, I love how you taste!'

'Dad, you can do it.'

'Do what, honey?'

'You know, things...'

'I can diddle you, baby?'

'Diddle me...'

He kept his jaw pried open painfully, and his tongue tickling along the valley of her sternum. The mouth action reminded him of cunnilingus - something that he would not be able to delay for another second!

He pushed her onto her bed, and gave the jeans a good yank. They caught at her ankles and turned inside out, but he was too hot and bothered to finish the job. Her legs were shapely and beautiful with skin as soft as silk. He slid her panties down her sides, and noticed the crotch fabric was well mated to her secret spot. He stopped to inspect it, and found her moist beyond his dreams! He heard her let out a breath of almost guilty admission.

By the time he got her entirely naked, her fingertips were tickling his earlobe and his chin rested on the warm cushiness of her thigh. 'Ooooooo daddy...'

She tasted like pudding, and had enough juices at her labia for him to genuinely slurp. He fantasized about him penetrating her up the ass. Her palms were more assertive now, raking through his hair, as his tongue focused more acutely on her budding little clitoris. His middle fingertip entered her like a hook and found the roughness of her g-spot. Her heat inside there was immense. It did not take many more ministrations for her body to realize it needed to start shuddering slightly, heat up, perspire, twitch at the inner thighs, and eventually clasp in her womb like a powerful fist around a pleasure spot buzzing with orgasmic charge.

'OH!!! OH!!! OH!!!'

'Mmmm... Mum mamy mum!'

'Oh God it feels so gooooooood!!! Daddy!!!'

'Mmmmmmm!'

'Oh don't stop daddy I love it!!! Please... keep sucking!!! Suck on it daddy, lick it!!! OH! Oh my God it's great! Yes! Yes! Yessss!!!'

Her shuddering lasted a long time. Carl's jaw was still painfully strained in effort around his daughter's cunt-mound. When her thighs gave up the vise-grip around his head, he bolted up onto his knees. Without asking, he fell atop of her in urgency, penis hard and ready. He stabbed at her twice, and then used his fingers to guide the pointed cock-head with more finesse.

She was as tight as a steel pinky-ring, and his cock seared with pain as he entered her. She released a cry of agony herself, but kept her legs spread open. When the pain in his cock subsided, it was replaced by an incredibly contrasting sensation of tight, warm pleasure. He'd never felt this kind of grip. It was great.

When he began plowing back and forth slightly, he felt the lubrication. It was a perfect pussy-feel. It could not be better, and everything before this was worse. Her coital canal was delightfully compressed around his shaft, allowing it to slide just enough. Just enough to tickle the nerve endings that sent pinpricks back to his testicles.

A piston fired involuntarily somewhere near his prostate. A thick stream bellowed down his pee-pipe causing an enormous, nearly painful release. As it discharged from his body, another ensued just as furiously.

'No Daddy! Don't come inside me!!!' Samantha stiffened under him.

It was way too late. By the fourth or fifth spurt he was blissfully seeing stars. He could also hear Dorothy's alarmed voice at the door again, calling to him, 'Carl! Get off her!'

He did not move. Suddenly he felt Dorothy grabbing him by the love handles, ineptly trying to remove him.

'It's too late...' he sputtered.

Samantha relaxed, begrudgingly, as his sweat-drops fell atop her. Even as he pulled out, he could feel the tantalizing tightness. He sighed with satisfaction.

'I hope you're proud of yourself!' Dorothy stammered with hands at her hips.

Todd appeared at the door, wearing boxers and a hard on. 'Mom...'

'What!?' she turned to face her son. He just responded with a suggestive look.

'God, another horny fellow that just doesn't want to quit-' she started walking towards her son, then shot a glance at her prone daughter, still spread eagled, 'Young lady... ...never mind!'

Todd's cock was rainbow-taut, poking now from the opening of his shorts. The kid's quick hands grabbed his mother's wrists and soon tried to lower her head to his groin. They both disappeared again from the room.

Carl had no intention of leaving his daughter's bed. His cock hadn't even gone flaccid, and he could feel a residual tension still unspent behind his balls. Samantha would have to take him in her mouth in a few minutes.

In the meantime, he marveled at how her chest rose and fell, beet red and soaked with sweat, the titties jutting upwards like pyramids. Her hair blanketed her face and her mouth hissed and drooled. Her eyes were gaping wide.

Carl crouched over his daughter, lowering a rubbery trunk towards her mouth until his testicle sack rested on her cheek. She winced, but quickly admitted his organ between her lips, warmly and softly. It was magnetic. The rod stiffened like galvanized metal, and began to sense the texture of the girl's mouth succinctly. He held her head in one hand, and fed her lovingly. She accepted him deep, guiding the velvety cockhead towards the opening of her throat. She polished the shaft up and down, with pursed, thick lips. She occasionally stopped to nibble at the underside, tickling from the delicate tapering of the testicle sack, all the way up to the pee-hole. When it was time he held her still, his thumb on her chin keeping her mouth open, tongue extended.

'Let me come on your face baby...'

It poured. In bits and pieces, but it poured. Thick white goo trailing a clear, slippery liquid fell on her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. Some oozed directly onto her tongue, some slivered across her lips. She was bathed, and after she wiped her face, she was coated. He smiled as she drained him with smiling lips. He patted her head.

When Carl took his daughter down the hall towards the bathroom, they both went to inspect the loud animalistic noises coming from the master bedroom. Todd was buried in his mother's asshole, and she was grunting in pain. The teenager had a smug look on his face, and his legs, propping him up against the bed on tiptoes, were twitching with telltale signs of ejaculation.

Carl stood behind and to the side of his shorter, pretty daughter, and smoothed her hair. With his other hand, he pressed a middle finger to her naked anus.



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