Dirty Daughter Has Dirty Laundry Ch 01

A second after I entered the front door, I heard a door slam closed upstairs, causing me to pause for a moment. I knew it must be my daughter, Lily, since it was just us two living together and there were no cars in the driveway besides mine and hers, but the why of it was unknown. I contemplated it as I closed the door behind me and got settled.

The logical explanation was that she was naked, either while changing or masturbating. The former was more likely, but the latter was more intriguing. A lewd thought popped into my head for a fleeting instant — Lily nude, her pussy dripping as she rose from her bed and crossed her bedroom to close the door and hide her sexual gratification from her father's eyes — but I purged it from my mind as quickly as it had arrived.

I went upstairs to get out of my work clothes, slowing and listening carefully as I passed Lily's room, though I heard nothing. Shrugging to myself, I carried on to my bedroom and stripped down, grabbed some fresh underwear from my dresser, but paused to look at my nude form in the vanity mirror before I got dressed.

At 45, age has hardly taken its toll so far, just some bags and small creases around my eyes and a few grays in my thick black hair and beard. I've never been into fitness, but manual labor around the house and weekly tennis with a friend keeps me in good shape for the most part. My arms, shoulders and chest are solid and prominent, thighs too when I sport shorts, though I do have a bit of a gut (but that's essential for a dad-bod, right?).

Overall, I think I'm a pretty good-looking guy, but I've always felt that my best feature is the one I can't show off much (unless I want to end up in prison): my dick. It was hanging heavy at the moment (definitely not because I was subconsciously wondering if Lily was playing with herself down the hall) and with just small amount of stroking and squeezing, I had myself rock hard in seconds.

My stiff cock curves upward distinctly, topped with a mushroom cap was more pronounced on the topside and didn't quite meet on the underside. Give or take a ruler mark or two, it's seven inches in length and proportionally thick. I've only been with a few women, but all of them had admonished my size (though not as much as they appreciated my eagerness for cunnilingus).

Now, don't judge me, but my method of masturbation is a bit unorthodox, at least I assume so. Surely you've heard of guys using socks, but I prefer polyester gym shorts; the material is soft and allows for enough movement, plus the mess is contained when climax comes. Not all gym shorts were suited for this purpose, but I had couple pairs that served me well and, given enough time to dry between uses, they could comfortably be used two or three times between washes.

It had been almost a week since Lily or I had done a load of laundry, so I dug through the full hamper to find some jerk off shorts. It took a bit of rummaging before I found a pair and, surprisingly, I noticed the gray shorts before the red ones, which I had used more recently.

I was content to use the gray pair, but out of curiosity, I dumped my dirty laundry out on my bedroom floor. Article by article, I refilled the basket, and never discovered my red shorts. Perplexed, I needlessly checked a couple other places that I knew they wouldn't be, to no avail.

Try as I might, I could think of only one explanation: Lily had them. This raised a myriad of questions that I didn't want to face, so I (mostly) abandoned the train of thought until I could gather more information, and decided against masturbating as well.

I ventured downstairs, but instead of turning on the TV like I normally would, I pulled out my phone and browsed mindlessly, my focus fixed on picking up on any noises coming from upstairs. I only had to wait a couple minutes before I heard the soft creak of a door opening.

I climbed the stairs and moved down the hall to my master bedroom as quickly as I could while making minimal sound, aided by the carpeted steps and hallway. As I reached the doorway, Lily and I nearly collided as she tip-toed out of my room. She gasped and stumbled backward, nearly losing her balance, looking up at me with wide eyes and clutching her chest in surprise.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, nearly nonchalant, though I knew I had caught her. But again, this just raised more questions.

"Uh, nothing, I was just um..." Her voice was shaky and her cheeks were bright red. I remained quiet to give her a chance to explain, but the silence grew awkward during the next few seconds and I had to say something.

"Oh, hey, have you seen my red gym shorts by any chance?" If Lily decided to turn it on me and ask what was so special about those shorts, I would have probably blushed as hard as she was, but she was much too flustered to think of that. In fact, when I inquired about my shorts, she shrunk so hard I'm surprised she didn't compact into a black hole. I felt bad, so I followed it up quickly with, "yeah, I didn't realize how long it's been since we did some laundry, you think you could do a load?"

"Oh, yeah, that's what I was thinking, I'm running out of clean clothes, too," Lily spat out, jumping at the opening I had offered her.

"Great. I don't really feel like cooking, so I'm just gonna order a pizza, cool?" I diverged as she backtracked to get my laundry basket. As she bent to pick up the hamper, my eyes wandered her body in a way that I rarely allowed for more than a brief instant.

Lily is short, barely above five feet, quite petite. Bent at the waist as she was, her pink legs were pulled tight around her shapely rear and slender legs, so tight that I could make out the lines of her thong.

"Yeah, sounds good," Lily mumbled as she lifted the heavy hamper. Holding it against her small waist, she turned to make her escape, but paused when she noticed me blatantly checking her out. Her thighs were pressed together, but a small gap remained just below her crotch.

She looked away bashfully, though with a restrained smile, and stood there for a moment while I ogled her. Her free hand pulled at the top of her leggings, not for modesty, but to draw them tighter to her body. Then she did the same with her white tank-top, which was as form-fitting as her pants and ended several inches shy of reaching them.

Her midriff was exposed enough for me to see her bellybutton and the jeweled piercing hanging from it. The skimpy top clung to her breasts, which were quite big compared to the rest of her (yet she almost never wore a bra at home), and showed off the top of her breasts and more cleavage than I was normally comfortable seeing from her.

Lily gave me about ten seconds to check her out, an unjustifiably erotic moment for a father and daughter to share. When my eye-line finally reached her face — that beautiful face, with hazel eyes above high cheekbones, a small, narrow nose, and juicy red lips, all framed by her voluminous black hair fell to her mid-back — our gazes met for a lustful second.

Then she quietly squeezed by me to get out and I turned to watch her go. Her gait was more exaggerated than usual, clearly deliberate and for my amusement. Once she disappeared from sight, a mild wave of guilt hit me, but the urge to masturbate was much greater, and this time it was undeniably because of my daughter. But just as soon as the thought occurred to me, I realized that she had just walked away with both of my pairs of jerk-off-shorts.

Oh well, I still had my hunger for sustenance and answers that I could quench.

While Lily started the laundry, I called in an order for a large extra cheese pie and and a side of mozzarella sticks, Lily's favorite food. She kept her distance until dinner arrived, but when it did, she had no excuse to avoid me any longer.

"Alright, Friday night is Star Wars night," I said as we sat down in the living room and I booted up the streaming device. We ate most of our dinners in front of the TV, a habit that had developed shortly after Lily's mother left us, while we were still relying primarily on takeout. "What do you wanna watch?"

"I don't care, you pick," she answered absentmindedly as she dragged a slice of pizza onto her plate and pulled the whole box of mozzarella sticks to her end of the table. Her tits were nearly falling out of her top when she leaned over and I was very conscious to keep my eyes on the TV.

"I think there's a new episode of that Boba Fett show, how about that?" Lily avoided eye contact with me as she shrugged and took a small bite of her pizza. "Alrighty then, let's see what Boba's up to."

We ate dinner and watched the show quietly, barely acknowledging each other for the next twenty minutes. I was completely absorbed in the fiction until Lily spoke up and said, "Isn't this show supposed to be about Boba Fett? Why are they focusing on Mando so much?"

"Well— uh, I don't know, that's a good question." Taken out of the story, I paused the show and stood up. "I'm gonna get a drink, you want something?"

"Beer, please," she responded as she got up as well. She wasn't twenty-one yet, but I had given her permission to drink when she turned 18, be it at home or out with her friends, with the condition that she never drove drunk or got into a car with a drunk driver. On several occasions, I had received a call from her in the middle of the night, slurring her words as she begged for a ride, which of course reinforced my confidence in her judgment.

"Anything special?"

"Nope, whatever. I'm gonna move the clothes to the dryer, be right back."

I cleared our plates and wrapped up the leftovers, then poured myself a whiskey and soda and grabbed a beer for Lily. By the time I got back to the living room, she was already on the couch, on her phone while she waited for me.

"So, about earlier..." I started as I placed the beer in front of her and sat at the opposite end of the couch. With a glance in her direction, I saw her initial reaction of panic, which was good, because I wanted to inquire about my shorts without addressing the taboo moment that we had both participated in.

"Yeah?" Lily asked with an innocent tilt of her head and a look of curiosity.

"Uh, I—" I wasn't ready. "Sorry if I startled you when I got home, I should've texted you that I left work early."

"Oh, no, it's okay. I was just getting dressed after a shower and was surprised to hear the front door open," she explained with a bad forced laugh.

"Yeah, that's what I figured," I lied.

Over the next half-hour, as we watched the rest of the show, my mind was elsewhere. I sipped my drink and contemplated how I would broach such an uncomfortable subject. The episode ended faster than I expected and I wasn't ready to call her out just yet, but as the screen went black and the credits rolled, I had to say something.

"Hey, hang on a sec," I said as Lily grabbed her beer and stood up, presumably to escape to her bedroom. She slumped back to the couch apprehensively.

"What's up, Dad?" She tipped the bottle back and finished it off.

I didn't want to be too confrontational and I was still a bit anxious about the conversation to come, so I simply delayed her retreat with, "you wanna smoke?" Lily held her breath for a moment, then nodded with a nervous smile.

This was a pretty recent change to our dynamic. I had known that she smoked weed for the past few years and had no problem with it— I had been a heavy user until Lily was about ten years old, so it would be immensely hypocritical of me to scold her.

One night a few months back, we were sitting on the back patio together, enjoying the sunset and a couple of beers, when Lily asked if I would mind if she lit up, and I allowed it. When she offered me a hit, I hesitated at first, but ultimately accepted and, well, we've been toke buddies ever since.

"Yeah, hang on," Lily said as she jumped up and bounded off for her bedroom. While she retrieved her stash and papers, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a small portion of straight whiskey. "You gotta try this," she remarked when we met at the couch again.

I took a small sip of my drink. I had a decent buzz going and was feeling more confident (or more accurately, less inhibited) about talking to her about my shorts.

She doled out more than enough bud to fill a joint, then broke it up by hand, and I watched as she rolled it up, focusing intently on her skilled fingers, lips and tongue as they worked adeptly.

"I taught you well," I remarked as she licked the end of the paper and sealed the joint.

"No way, that credit goes to my girl, Julia. She taught me how to roll when I was 16." That was more or less the exact response I received from her every time I claimed credit for her skills, so I replied in the same way that I always did.

"Yeah, she might've showed you when you were 16, but you were watching me roll from the time you were a baby until you were almost ten." It was true, I had routinely rolled up around her (though I never smoked in her presence) until she was old enough to know what I was doing, at which point I began rolling and smoking only after Lily was as asleep. "I'm just glad you get better bud than Julia used to, that weed was garbage."

"Well at least we can agree on that," Lily said with a giggle as she eyed her handiwork. Deeming it ready for consumption, she asked, "you ready?"

"Yup, you got a lighter?"

"Yup."

"Wanna go up on the balcony?"

"Oh yeah, we haven't gone up there in a while."

The balcony connected to the master bedroom, my room of course, and was a special place for me; when Lily was young, her mother, Karen, and I would go out there to relax and appreciate the quietness of the night after Lily was in bed. The only pieces of furniture on the balcony were a small table and the loveseat that Karen and I used to share.

Karen left me for another man thirteen years ago,when she gave birth to his child, though her affair had started years earlier. It was bad enough that she abandoned me, but after she started her new family, she wanted nothing to do with our daughter either. It broke Lily's heart, and that shattered the pieces of my own broken heart.

Her sorrow was so great, I forced myself to bury the pain of Karen's betrayal under the love that I felt for Lily. I devoted myself to her; I never missed any of her soccer games or school events, assured her that she could talk to me about anything, including the uncomfortable bits, and even made arrangements with my employer to spend half of my workday in the office and the other half at home so that I could be there when my girl arrived from school. In the end, Karen's betrayal made me a better father.

"It's a bit chilly," I remarked as Lily lit up. "I'm gonna grab a sweatshirt, want one?"

"Yes please, the gray one," she said quickly, a cloud of smoke escaping her mouth as she did so. I returned a moment later and handed her my oldest, most worn-down hoodie (her favorite one for some reason) and she passed me the joint. "Thank you," she said as she pulled on the over-sized sweatshirt, neglecting to zip it up, and I took a long rip.

We smoked in silence for a bit, peering up into the night sky, seeing the stars as they were tens and hundreds and thousands of years ago. As we reached the half way mark of the joint, I was feeling quite good.

"So about earlier," I began again, pausing to take a hit. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lily shift in her seat, bracing for what came next. "What were you doing with my shorts?" I asked bluntly as I passed her the joint. She took an exceedingly long hit, buying herself a couple extra seconds.

"I like the smell," she finally answered. I waited for elaboration, but it didn't come, so I prodded deeper. If not for the alcohol and weed, I probably would've figured it out myself and dropped the subject awkwardly.

"The smell of what? My...?" She turned to me, exasperated that I was seeking further explanation, then nodded quickly and looked up at the sky again as she took another hit. "So you just like to, like, smell them?" I asked, still perplexed.

"Dad! Are you really gonna make me spell it out?" she complained before taking yet another rip.

"I'm sorry! I'm just confused. And you know the rules, puff, puff, pass." I held out my hand expectantly and she quickly handed it over. That deflated the situation a bit and Lily relaxed a little.

"I don't just sit around and sniff 'em. The smell gets me kinda hot, so I like to smell them while I'm, you know..."

"Oh," was the only reply I could offer at first. "That's— okay, I get it now, that makes sense." I took a small hit and passed the joint back to my daughter, who had just admitted she used the aroma of my cum as an aphrodisiac. My mind was spinning, and it wasn't from the booze or bud.

"Can we not make a big deal about this? Please?" My bedroom light was on, illuminating us from behind, but not the balcony light, so I couldn't see her face well. Regardless, I knew she was blushing hard.

"Um, yeah, absolutely. Alright, new topic coming up." I thought for a moment while she took her turn with the joint. "Oh, okay, how 'bout this? If humans settled Mars today, would you go? One way trip, no coming back."

As Lily passed me the joint, she glanced over at me and I could see a little grin on her lips, and I took that as a 'thank you' for changing the subject. Then she titled her head back and pushed her lips out like she was doing that duck-lips thing that girls do for selfies, but that's just the face she always makes when she's thinking deeply about something.

After pondering the hypothetical, she responded, "If they just settled it? Hell no, I'll wait a few years for them to work out any bugs and make sure it's completely safe. It'd be amazing to live on another planet, but Earth's atmosphere and gravity are pretty amazing too." I nodded respectfully at her thoughtful response.

"True, but wouldn't it be cooler to say you were one of the first settlers on Mars?"

"I guess, maybe. This is pretty much done, I'm gonna put it out."

"Go for it," I replied. "But I'm gonna chill out here for a while." I put my feet up on the table and stretched an arm out over the back of the loveseat.

"Can I chill with you?" she asked as she stamped out the cherry in the ashtray.

"Of course, I would love that." I was glad she wasn't eager to get away, and took that to mean I had handled the situation pretty well.

Then she scooted close and leaned against me with her head on my shoulder. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, sweetheart," I replied as I wrapped my arm around her, and we cuddled without speaking for a while.

The following day was a Saturday, so when I awoke around 7 AM, I rolled over and went right back to sleep. It was a couple hours later when I woke up again and this time I decided to start my day. As I headed for the master bathroom, I noticed my laundry on top of the dresser, clean and folded; Lily must have awakened already.

Sitting prominently on top of the stack of pants were my two pairs of jerk-off-shorts. I almost never masturbated in the morning, but the sight of those garments brought back the conversation from the night before and I was suddenly feeling very aroused.

I had never allowed Lily into my fantasies, at least not for more than a frame or two; if she did pop into my mind, I would stop jerking it immediately and imagine a different woman. But this time, thoughts of my daughter were unavoidable. The mental image of her laying naked in bed, holding my cum-soaked shorts to her nose and inhaling deeply as she toyed with her cunt, brought me a swift, strong orgasm.

My load seeped through the fabric and then soaked back into it, creating a large dark spot around the tip of my cock. After I came down from my climax, I slipped my shorts off carefully and slung them over the edge of my laundry hamper, then went into the bathroom for a shower.