Part 1: Date Night
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I silently fumed as I watched Jason speed away down the street, turning too fast at the corner and almost hitting a motorbike. Typical, I thought. I looked down at myself as I stood outlined in the light from my front porch. I can't believe I bought a new outfit for a date with that loser that only lasted an hour.
Quietly, I entered the front door, kicking off my heels and running a hand through my hair. I felt myself starting to calm down now that I was home, but I was still mad as hell at Jason. We had only gone out a few times, but he had seemed nice at first. As time went on, however, his immature habits and the way he increasingly treated me like shit – a nice piece of arm-candy to make out with when his jock friends weren't around – kept bubbling up to the surface of my mind; and tonight, when he'd been more interested in talking to a high school friend he met at the club he took me to than in spending time with me, I'd demanded he take me home, and now. He had driven me the entire way in angry silence, and that was fine with me. I had to use small words around Jason anyway, to be sure he followed the conversation.
I turned on the light in the stairway – remarking to myself for a brief moment that it was strange to find most of the lights out at 9 PM – and made my way upstairs. I stopped halfway and considered myself in the full length mirror hanging there – a pretty 18 year old in a dark green knee-length skirt, black tailored short-sleeved blouse and matching pantyhose, my long black hair framing my tastefully made-up face, my woman's body obvious in the cute new outfit, 36D breasts perfectly constrained by the silky blouse, a hint of teasing cleavage, my heart locket (a sweet 16 gift from Daddy) hanging down perfectly, and my full lips a glossy red. I had to admit, I looked damn good tonight. Not too shabby, Alli, I thought to myself, running my hands softly over my hips, my breasts, my tight ass. Too good for that immature asshole, anyhow. I carried on upstairs.
The second strange thing hit me once I got upstairs; no light except for a crack from the master bedroom. I knew Mom was in Cleveland on business till early next week, but usually when I got home, Daddy was watching TV or a movie in the family room downstairs, even when it was late, and sometimes I'd sit with him for a bit, snuggling with his arm around me, telling him about my night. Could he have gone to bed already? I thought, feeling a little sad I wouldn't be able to sit with my Daddy, feeling him holding me close, protecting me.
As I got closer to the door, however, I could hear quiet noises. Maybe he's enjoying a movie in bed, I thought, and smiled, thinking maybe I'd scare him, throw open the door and see if I could get him to scream; he'd get a kick out of that, we were always playing little games with each other. I crept closer, tongue touching my upper lip and a smile on my face, stopping when I approached the crack and saw Daddy's computer screen on his desk.
Filling the screen was the face of a young brunette, and for a moment I thought it was me, and Daddy was watching some home movies, but aside from a passing resemblance, this girl couldn't be me – a fact which was confirmed when the camera pulled out to reveal she was topless, playing with her big, round tits as a man stood before her, naked, holding his cock in his hand, stroking it up and down.
I stood stock-still, a hand over my lips as I took in the whole scene; my Daddy, sitting before the computer, his fly open and his own dick in his hand as he watched this movie on his laptop. He was turned at an angle to the screen, and the flickering light from the porn showed me exactly what he was doing. I knew I should get away, fast, before he knew I was watching, but couldn't move; I found herself torn between being too scared to leave, and too entranced by the forbidden nature of what I was watching, to back away just yet.
On the screen, things were heating up as the busty brunette began licking all over the older man's cock, covering it with kisses and catlike licks, holding the base firmly. Another girl entered the scene from the side, a blonde who, if anything, had even bigger tits than the dark-haired girl (so Daddy's a tit man, I guess, I found myself thinking abstractedly), and the blonde held onto the massive cock before her, feeding it to the brunette. They both made appreciative sounds, licking, sucking and moaning, sometimes breaking off to kiss passionately over the head of the older man's cock, then taking turns sucking it deeper, noisily slurping it.
Up to this point, I had taken some secretive looks at porn on my own computer late at night, had even been turned on enough to play with myself a little while watching a particularly hot scene, but this was different, very different. I was seeing my beloved Daddy in a whole new light in many ways; why was he doing this? Was Mom not giving him what he needed? Was her being away so much leaving him lonely? And – this dark thought creeping in on top of these others – why hadn't I ever noticed that Daddy had such a big cock?
I found my eyes straying from the threesome on the laptop screen to my Daddy sitting before it, and to the massive organ in his hand. It had to be at least seven inches long, and it was uncut – I knew enough to know that was unusual, and my eyes were glued to it as he stroked, pulling the foreskin back, the swollen dark head of his dick emerging. It looked nice and thick too, and a flush crept over my cheeks and down my chest as I began to entertain the taboo thoughts skittering over the surface of my mind. I felt I had stepped through a looking-glass and anything was now possible, and I found herself inching closer, silently pushing the door open another inch to see more.
Daddy's porno movie was getting even more exciting; now the man had the brunette bent over the foot of a bed, working his dick into her pussy from behind as the blonde knelt on the bed, letting the young brunette suck on her full tits. I felt a growing heat in the pit of my stomach which was spreading through my lower body, working insistent fingers of lust into my pussy. I found my fingers pulling my skirt up, inching closer to the heat between my legs while my other hand, unbeknownst to me, was cupping my breast, squeezing gently, feeling the pressing urgency of my stiff nipple against my palm. I began to softly rub myself through my pantyhose and panties, feeling a growing wet spot, turned on in a way I never had been before by this sex scene – and more, much more, by my Daddy, by seeing him like this, as a man to desire, to want. I looked from the fucking onscreen to his cock, throbbing and stiff, and I wanted it, utterly. My head was swimming, a gray wave pulsing on the outskirts of my vision as I thought about Daddy touching me, kissing me, about all the things he could do, his strength and wisdom, so unlike the childish boys I had dated, and I slipped my hand into my panties, finding my shaved pussy soaked at the thought of it.
And yet how could it ever be? I was Alli, Daddy's little girl, becoming a woman but still aware of the way he looked at me, a doting father, eager to protect me, to cherish me. Why would he ever want this, this dark fantasy which was filling my head with new, naughty thoughts?
My question was answered, it seemed, when I saw Daddy lean his head back, his cock in his hand pumping up and down in his clenched fist, and heard him moan, "Oh god... oh Alli, baby... "
I gasped aloud, feeling a fresh gush of wetness coat my fingers, and I jerked involuntarily, my elbow bumping the bedroom door, making it push wide. Suddenly everything happened at once. Daddy let out an explosive 'Shit!' and half-closed the laptop, standing up hurriedly and shoving his pulsing cock back into his pants, and I stumbled into the room, pulling my hand away from the wet pussy between my legs.
"Daddy, wait, don't –"
