Darling Bonnie Ch 1

When my wife was killed by a drunk driver, Bonnie and I were devastated. She was 13 at the time. I tried to console her as best I could, but I was hurting just as bad. We clung together in our grief. Perhaps that was the beginning of our new relationship – we felt it was us against the world.

I know what you're thinking – and it's not true. I didn't take advantage of my daughter. In fact, for the next five years, I was the perfect dad. I had to be both dad and mom to Bonnie, watching her grow up, helping her with her homework, attending her sporting and school events. I was her protector.

When she was 18, she blossomed into a beautiful young woman, though somewhat small for her age. She looked so much like Jill that I nearly cried ever time I saw her. That's when I felt those urgings – which I promptly ignored, despite what you may think of me. I would never force myself on Bonnie. Instead, I tried to date, but every woman I went out with failed to measure up to my dear Jill.

By now, Bonnie knew a lot about sex – she had asked me some questions and I had answered them as truthfully as I could. She had taken the required sex ed courses at school. Because she and I were so close, she'd come to me with her questions and to tell me about the boys at high school. They had all noticed her -- she was attracting a bit too much attention for my tastes. We talked about it and I urged her not to do anything rash. "Wait for true love," I would tell her, hoping that she might find the same love I had found in her mother.

Jill and I had been college sweethearts and had married when I was 23, she two years younger. We had Bonnie a year later, but it was a very difficult birth. The doctor said she shouldn't have any more kids, so I volunteered to have a vasectomy. We had intended to adopt later, but Bonnie was so beautiful and so perfect, we decided not to bring anyone else into our tight-knit little family. It wouldn't be fair – any adopted child would not compare to Bonnie. I know that sounds selfish, but I'm just being truthful. She was our dream come true and there was no need to challenge it.

Bonnie, having been treated like a young adult since she was very little, found the boys at school to be vastly immature. There was no one who appealed to her. They were grabby, or goofy or gawky, she told me.

I say all this because what happened next was her idea. Oh sure, I know as the dad, I should've resisted. I was supposed to be strong. You have to understand our situation, however. Here we were, five years after a devastating loss, trying to move on, but being held back by our shared memories. We were alone in the world – that's how we felt. Is it any wonder that we came together?

It started innocently enough. She would kiss me hello and goodbye – just a little peck. I work at home, so I was nearly always there when she got off the bus. Somewhere during high school, that peck became a little more. Not much more, mind you, but enough so that I began to notice that she would cling to me a little longer and hold our lips together a little more wetly. It was so subtle that I didn't think I should mention it to her. I also must admit that I enjoyed it. For a split second, I could imagine that it was Jill kissing me, not Bonnie.

Up to this point, everything was still innocent, I believed. So we kissed a little more than most dads and daughters, so what? We were still sharing our grief. We were communicating, unlike so many other children and their parents. Things became a bit more complicated one afternoon in April when during our "hello" kiss, she reached around behind me and grabbed the globes of my ass.

I pulled away, startled. "What was that all about?" I asked her.

"That's what Jimmy did to me today. It—"

"Whoa! Whoa! Jimmy did that to you – when, where? Right there at school? I have a mind to call—"

"Dad! Relax! It wasn't like that. We weren't hugging or anything. We were just talking. The buses had already left and he was waiting for his mom to pick him up. I was just about to walk home. We leaned against the gym wall and talked. Then, when no one was around, he reached his hand around and squeezed my bum."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Funny. Like in my stomach."

"Do you like this boy Jimmy?"

"He's nice. I'm not in love with him or anything."

"I didn't mean that. I'm just surprised that he would do something like that."

"I was too."

"But you kinda liked it, didn't you?"

"Yes." She looked down at the floor.

"Why did you do it to me?"

"I don't know. I wanted to see if it felt funny like that with you."

I paused. "Well, did it?"

She looked up at me, right in my eyes. "Yes. It did."

I was stunned. I never thought she had feelings like that for her dad. Here I had been resisting those urges and she had felt the same way! We didn't say anything more about our little encounter, but our relationship edged forward from that point on. It was as if we had teetered on the bubble, resisting what we both felt until she confessed her secret to me. It was a small confession, to be sure, but it was enough to change the giant wheel that represents the turning points of our lives.

For the next couple of days, we were rather circumspect. Just back to a quick peck. It was as if we had gone too far and were now retreating, regrouping our emotions for the next phase. I broke the ice one afternoon, when I squeezed the cute globes of her ass as we kissed hello and she giggled. That soon became a regular part of our greeting. We were innocent in our minds, but our bodies were not. I began to get erections. At the same time, we began to move our hands all over each other's backs for a few seconds. It was just part of the hug, you understand. Right?

That went on for about a month. We were still resisting. It wasn't right. We couldn't even talk about it. One day in late May, Bonnie reached around my front and ran her hand up my hardening cock. I pulled away immediately and we just stared at each other.

"Relax, Dad. I just had to touch it. I've never touched one when it was hard before."

My parental attitude kicked in. "Oh? Does that mean you've touched on when it was soft?"

She giggled. "No Dad! I should've said I've never touched one before. But I was really curious about how it gets hard and all."

"Didn't we talk about that one day? Didn't you learn about that at school?"

"Yes, Dad, I did. But talking about it and seeing it are two different things."

At that moment, I knew that if I offered to show it to her, she would've agreed wholeheartedly. So I didn't. I was a good dad and I wasn't going to ruin it with some kinky instinct. We stood there awkwardly for a few more seconds and then I did something that surprised even me. I ran my hand around the edge of her right breast. It was safely encased in her shirt and bra, so I didn't feel much. Nevertheless, it was a huge moment between us.

To her credit, she just laughed, as if to say, "Turnabout's fair play" and ran off to her room. We didn't say another word about it.

That Friday night, a big thunderstorm rolled into the region after midnight. I was awakened by a loud "BOOM!" that rattled the windows. Heavy rain began to pour down on the roof. I lay awake, feeling my nightly erection pressing against the sheets. It seemed especially hard tonight, and I was embarrassed to remember my dream had been about kissing and hugging Bonnie. The light went on in the hall and seconds later, I heard a noise at the door. Bonnie entered, "Dad, are you awake?"

I turned, careful to keep my erection hidden underneath the covers. "Yes, honey. The thunder woke me right up."

"Me too." She paused. "It really scared me. Can I stay here for a few minutes?"

I felt torn. On the one hand, I wanted to help her, to comfort her – and, I wanted her to climb in near my naked body. I admit it. On the other hand, it was wrong. I wrestled with my conscious for a moment. "Sure," I said, pulling up the edge of she sheet. OK, I'm a bad man.

She slid in gratefully. Her fresh scent filled my nose. My dick throbbed. She was wearing a baby doll nightie that I had bought her a couple of years before, so by now it was really too small for her. She came right up against me and I could feel her trembling. I tried to pull back so my hard-on wouldn't touch her, but she was either too scared or too -- too what? Horny? Dare I think that? As if in response, she reached around and pulled my groin to her, rubbing up against my hard-on.

"Careful," I tried to joke, "I wouldn't want to hurt you with that."

She giggled, then reached her hand down to feel my cock. Her hands felt so delicate on it, I nearly came right then. Without conscious thought, my hand went to her breast and I rubbed the side of it through her nightie. Without a bra, I could feel it easily, the shape of it, the softness. She breathed deeply. The thunder rolled on outside, matching the beating of our hearts.

From that point on, we didn't speak. There was no need to. She wanted – no, needed me just as much as I needed her. I was determined not to take it any farther than she wanted me to – after all, I was still her protector. She continued to run her hand up and down my shaft, clearly inexperienced at it. I reached down underneath the top of her nightie and slid my hand in over her left breast. It was small, but perfect. My thumb rubbed over her nipple, which was sticking straight out. She was as turned on as I was.

I kissed her then, and not as a dad would have. Our lips were soft, hungry. She made moaning noises in her throat and began rubbing me faster. I had to stop her or else lose my load right there. I pulled her hand around my waist so I could push my hard-on up against her stomach, my balls snug against her virgin mound. Without a word, she wrapped her left leg over me and pulled me even closer to her.

She was still my daughter – and she wasn't, if that makes any sense. I wanted to protect her and I wanted to ravish her. I fought with my emotions. Had I not had a vasectomy, I doubt I would've continued. I reached my hands down to the edge of the top of her nightie and pulled it up. She cooperated completely, lifting up so I could strip it from her. She took the initiative and unwrapped her leg from mine to slip out of her bottoms. In seconds, she was as naked as I. We came together, thigh to face, grasping at each other not only in lust, but also in our shared memory of my wife, her mother.

My erection was almost painful. I thrust it against her as I hugged her close. I desperately wanted to feel the hot core between her legs. I knew she would be wet. Carefully, I reached down past my balls and touched her tentatively on her wispy mound. She groaned again and pulled away slightly to allow me better access. My hand shook as I extended my middle finger to just brush against her delicious cleft. She was very wet. It immediately coated my finger with her sweet-smelling juice. I brought my finger up to taste it, then returned it to her fiery core. She was delicious.

I slipped down to Bonnie's chest and fastened my mouth over one perfect nipple. As I sucked, I rubbed her cleft from back to front, at first not trying to touch her clitoris. Her body was not to be denied. In minutes, I could feel her lips spreading apart as more juice flowed out. Her clit, which had been hidden beneath the folds, now sprung free, thrusting up like a tulip bulb in the springtime. I barely touched it at first. She gasped anew and raised her hips toward my hand. Thus encouraged, I paid more attention to her slippery clit, rubbing it gently but firmly. I moved with the rhythms of her body. She was so caught up between the sensations between her nipple and her cunt that I knew she couldn't form coherent thoughts. Her entire being was focused on the strange new sensations that flooded her.

This is how girls get pregnant, I thought to myself. They get to this point and can't stop, no matter what the consequences. Bonnie was clearly a very sexy girl. I would have to be very careful of her around future boyfriends.

Suddenly, she arched her back and came hard. I stopped rubbing and just cupped her mound tightly. She made some inarticulate noises in her throat. In the dim light, I could see her eyes were tightly closed and her neck and upper chest were flushed red – she had the same characteristic, as did her mother when she came. In my mind, that's when she ceased to be my daughter and instead became my long-dead wife. I had to have her, if for no other reason than to remember the good times that were cruelly cut short.

As Bonnie quieted, I moved up over her. She opened her eyes and looked a little nervous as I was poised there, my throbbing erection just above her vagina. She looked down and her eyes got wide. She spoke for the first time. "Dad?"

"Don't worry, honey, I'll go slow. You can stop me whenever you want."

With that, I eased the head of my rock-hard cock into her slippery core. She looked up at me and our eyes locked. I knew she was remembering her mom too, although I can't explain how I knew. Her nether lips parted eagerly, welcoming the large head inside. I paused and began to rub it up and down in her slit, letting the juices wash over it. She moved her hips in rhythm to my tiny thrusts, her eyes never leaving mine. With each small stroke, I pushed myself in a bit farther. She made no move to stop me. Indeed, her body was saying the opposite: Her legs were splayed wide apart, her nipples pointed to the ceiling, her mouth partly open.

Emboldened, I thrust farther into her, letting nearly half my cock slip inside. She was tight. I paused, enjoying the closeness of her hot passage. Then I felt her hymen and my fatherly instincts kicked in. I thought I should stop. She should be a virgin for her husband many years from now, shouldn't she? I started to pull back, but Bonnie reached around with both hands and grabbed onto my ass, even harder than when we were kissing hello. With a grunt, she pulled me hard into her and I felt her thin membrane break. She gasped from the pain, then settled in as I started fucking in earnest, my hard cock pumping deep into her.

"Oh, Daddy, Daddy…." she said softly, encouraging me on. Her voice sounded a lot like Jill's. I thrust harder, faster. We kept staring, right into each other's eyes, knowing exactly what we were doing and not being ashamed about it. I could feel my seminal fluid building up in my loins and for a moment I wished I was whole, so I could flood my daughter with my sperm. I know that sounds terrible, but I was caught up in the moment. I knew I wasn't serious, I was just being animalistic.

With a bellow, I came and jerked my head back, feeling my fluid shoot deep within her. I was an Alpha male, conquering my subordinate woman. Suddenly exhausted, I fell to the side, making sure I didn't crush my delicate daughter.

"God, that felt good," she told me as I lay panting. "It hurt at first, but then it was good." She paused and then said something that endeared me to her forever. "Did I do it right?"

I pulled myself up on one elbow and looked her in her beautiful eyes. "Yes, honey, you did it exactly right."

From that point on, she never slept in her own bed. Every night – and sometimes during the day – we would retire for a passionate session of fucking, sucking and general pleasure. The first time I went down on her, she was shocked. Within minutes, however, she experienced the full measure of what a talented tongue can do to a woman. She came so easily, it was a joy to make love to her. Once I made her come seven times in a row with my tongue, fingers, vibrator and cock. I realize that's not any kind of record, but I wasn't trying to achieve one. We were just caught up with each other and couldn't stop.