My college junior daughter Mary, came home over the weekend to celebrate a birthday and catch the Broncos game with "Dad", that's me. My baby, growing so fast, has matured into a terrific young woman. Bright, very articulate, a big, raw boned athlete from my side of the family, I was amazed over the years with her athletic skills, her easy, athletic movement and grace. And honestly, sometimes recently, and definitely secretly, her fantastic body.
I never considered her or her older sisters' sexuality before. Now on occasion, I would notice her large boobs, always trapped in a tank top, scooped neck, and every so often, just a hint of color of the areola surrounding the nipple. I hoped she would not catch my glances to her soft mounds, so proudly protruding from her clothes. My mind wanders even now, almost laughing at my initial response to her.
I think the random thoughts started as my married sex life diminished drastically. With the spouse going through menopause, her interest changed to sex being more labor than interest. But my old trusting friend stayed true, wanting, needing, desiring sex. Can't tell the number of times I have stroked the one eyed monster to self gratification. While not totally satisfying, it has curbed the edge so to speak.
But back to my baby, and most importantly is her description. She is very attractive, very religious, and seldom dated. Not sure why she did not date much, but it has been a concern to her at times I know! Physically, she is 5'11" tall, and tips the scale at 160 lbs. She works out 4-5 days per week at the school recreation center, and has kept her toned, already athletic body. I, a former college football player myself, instilled the desire to maintain a healthy body, adding a large home gym to our residence many years ago. I work out 6-days per week. I stand 6'6" tall (maybe a slight under due to age), and weigh in at 260 lbs myself. Ok, maybe 272 lbs, I do enjoy eating more than I should. But I am most proud of my manhood, at full mast, it is 9 ½ inches long, and fat to go with it. I have been fortunate to share it with many women over the years. And I never had complaints, or a 2nd date turn down. Now, this sharing is a secret between us. Keep it quiet please.
Mom was off to church, then visit her mom and dad for the day. As we settled into our game mode Sunday morning just before the game, I noted how tired she was. We had taken her to an expensive dinner to celebrate her 21st birthday, and afterwards, several of her friends had taken her out to formally welcome her to adulthood so to speak. I know she had her first mixed drink that evening, but most importantly, she was out very late. With an early game, she was slow at best. Dressed her gym shorts, a tank top, she flopped down on the couch, threw her feet up over my legs, and rested her eyes by putting her forearm across the bridge of her nose. Without thinking, I reached to caress her leg, looking up and down her body. At this point, I had not even considered where the day was going.
Kick off, and the first quarter was underway. We watched the game, commenting often on how we were playing like shit, or was Detroit actually good this year. Anyway, not the issue at hand.
At first, my caresses were just plain old Daddy massage that was so often given. I avoided the bottom of her feet, her tickle bone reacted dramatically to such caresses without an equal pressure to the top of her feet. So I did what I often did, I caressed top and bottom of her foot, up the leg, over the knee, up the quad, over the side of her leg, and down to start over. I did not think a thing about it. And neither did she. The caresses continued for many many minutes. About the end of the 1st quarter, she shifted, pulled her right leg up, flopped her left leg across me so it could receive an equal share of caresses. Without missing a beat, I started caressing her foot, up over the ankle, up over her shin, the heel of my hand pressing firmly into her quad, pushed forward, sliding my fingers down to her inside thigh, squeezing firmly, and sliding my hand down her leg as every other time this had been done. As I caressed up her leg, I pushed her shorts up, giving me more access to her upper thigh. My focus remained on the game without much thought given to her clothes. It was during one commercial that I glanced to her, my breath catching in my throat.
As I had been massaging her thigh, her shorts leg had ridden up above her mound slightly, allowing my glance to look directly to her sheer panties. Her eyes were closed as I glanced to her face, but my eyes diverted quickly back to her crotch. I looked for something to recognize, a puffy lip, pubic hairs straining to get free, anything that would give me a visual impression of her youthful sex. My cock chubbed instantly, knowing my big brain had focused on fresh, young, unspoiled cunt, my little brain quickly followed suit. I was about to panic when the commercial ended, and the game resumed.
Shifting slightly, Mary literally spread both legs without thinking. Now, her left leg lay over my right leg, her foot resting on my left thigh. I bet you know which leg my chubbed cock wanted to go down. I am left legged for a stiff cock. I now panicked. Her foot was flat on my thigh, the side of her foot rested on the top side of my growing cock. My butt muscles flexed, spreading my thighs slightly, her foot rested so softly on my growing cock, the warmth penetrating my shorts, my breathing coming in almost small gasps as my cock continued to grow, sliding along her foot. I glanced back to her crotch, my hand sliding up her thigh. Her mound was still visible. My tongue started getting stiff, just thinking of tasting her.
I shook my head almost violently, trying to clear my head of thoughts. Sexual thoughts. Thoughts of my daughter. I glanced to her again, her shorts riding high, folded back to give me a view of her mound, a flat, hard mound. I could see her pubic hair matted under her panties, encased so carefully, so softly. My body shuddered as my mind jumped to full speed. My hand wandered up her thigh, fingers sliding so effortlessly toward the crease of her thigh and body. So slowly, I squeezed her thigh, sliding upwards, wanting to push under her panties, to slide my fingers into her wet slit. I stopped, closing my eyes, shaking my head again. I had to clear my head of these thoughts. But her foot, she had to feel my growing cock. She had not reacted.
"Damn," she muttered. I glanced to the TV. Detroit had scored again. We were getting our butts kicked. She adjusted her body, shifting her butt flat on the couch, pushing to the front edge of the cushion. Her left knee rested on the couch back, heel now deeper into my thigh, her heel resting firmly on my cockhead. Could she feel the crown? I swear, she pushed her foot down, adding pressure to the top side of my cock. Her toes curled, pressing on my thigh. A small groan, a shudder shook my shoulders as I pictured her naked, my hand cupping her mound, my thumb hooked, buried in her wet hole, squeezing her clit softly between my thumb and palm.
"Damn," I groaned. I looked to her as she glanced to me. Did she read my thoughts? Could she tell I was not cursing the Broncos? Could she tell I was growing very rigid along the side of her foot? I glanced back to the TV. Extra point good, commercial time.
"School going well baby," I asked inanely. I glanced up her thigh, down into her crotch again, then slowly up her body. I found her staring into my eyes.