Y' know, all the years she lived at home, I never – not once – looked at my daughter that way. I like to think I never would have either. I love my daughter – as a father. So how did I get into such a fucked up situation?
It started a few weeks back. Meg, my wife, has lost interest in sex over the last couple of years. Oh, we still make love but more and more I get the impression she's just going through the motions to please me. So, touched as I am by that, I've found myself wanting her less and less. Making love to Meg used to be such a spiritual thing that I'm increasingly uncomfortable sullying that memory for what has become just a few minutes of callisthenics. Anyway, in the absence of sex at home, I sought release elsewhere. No – not my daughter. I took to searching for porn on the internet.
It's been a couple of decades since I took a real interest in porn and, wow, has it changed? What happened to all the grainy photos and untrimmed muffs? With so much porn available, I was able to find girls who looked a lot like Meg used to, except they were doing things Meg would never have done back in the day.
All that was fine for a while. Then I discovered the joys of webcams. The idea of some little chica taking off her panties just for me and fingering her wet, little twat while I jerk off in my study. Holy Shit! I found a couple of girls who reminded me of Meg, because Meg is still the woman I really want, even after 25 years of marriage. I found a couple of girls who looked like her and got off with one of them virtually every night.
A few weeks ago, neither of my regular girls was on-line so I got to browsing the public rooms looking for a one-night stand. Now, if you've never seen these sites, I'll explain a few things. They're two tier. There's the public rooms where the girls chat and flirt and tease but don't get nekkid. Then there's the private rooms where the girl of your choice does pretty much anything you can imagine for five bucks a minute. Sounds expensive? So how long does it take you to get off when a girl you really fancy sticks three fingers up her ass and three in her twat while telling you how much she wants your cock instead? Trust me, its twenty-five bucks well spent.
Anyway, there I was, trying to pick a room based on the thumbnails of the girls – peeking through windows, so to speak. I spotted one girl with her ass to the camera and bisected neatly by a white thong. Just my speed, thought I and went right in.
Allwaysalways was her nom-de-salon and she was unbearably sexy, at least from this angle. Her bottom was perfect, flawless and devoid of pimples or blemishes. Her thong was so slim that her shaved labia were only half covered. What was covered was discernable as a contour map of white cotton. There was the nub of her clitoris at the head of a long straight valley that fed into what may have been a fjord, judging by the long slim wet patch that glistened as light caught it. The thin back of the thong did little to hide the sepia periphery of her anus, though it did cover her actual sphincter – just. As I catalogued all the good reasons for wanting to spend time with her, an elegantly manicured finger, tipped with a pearl coloured nail hooked under her string and traced the cleft of her buttocks, brushing over her anus and vanishing from sight momentarily under the white triangle of her gusset. It returned to view and was held close to the camera, glistening with her juices. Fuck! She was most definitely ripe for the plucking.
My cock was painfully hard, trapped in my trousers, so I unzipped and hauled the little guy out of there for his daily exercise. On screen, one of my roomies asked her real name, introducing himself as Vinnie. Helen. I now had a name for my lust. Helen! The ass that launched a thousand ships. Trust me guys, Helen's ass and apple pie are like God and Country – We must defend them both to a man!
But I digress. Helen rocked her hips slowly, practically pouting with her pussy. Girls who know how to be on camera always move slowly. Webcams have so few frames per second that if you move fast it can look very jerky. Slow is sexier anyway and Helen clearly knew that. I stroked my length and watched her awhile, using my free hand to type a greeting and a comment on how sexy she was:-
"Papasgotabrandnewbag: Hi Helen. Damn, Girl! That is some fine tush you got there."
"Allwaysalways: Thx papa. Want 2 see more?"
"Papasgotabrandnewbag: In a min. Gotta get warmed up. It takes time at my age. Toys?"
Gotta get warmed up! Who was I kidding? I had a boner you could drive nails with, but its as well to be really ready before the meter starts running with these girls or it can get expensive.
"Allwaysalways: Lots of toys. How old are you papa?" On screen she draped a string of anal beads over her butt so the first bead rested just where it should. A bright blue dildo came into frame from between her legs, nuzzling her crotch. Yeah! She had toys.
"Papasgotabrandnewbag: 45. U?"
"Allwaysalways: 20. ready to go pvt papa?"
Man was I ever ready? But I wanted to see the rest of her first.
"Papasgotabrandnewbag: depends. do u have a pretty smile?"
There was a moment of unfocused movement as she turned around and adjusted the camera to show all of her. As the image refocused, I nearly had a heart attack.
"Allwaysalways: do I papa?"
Fucking hell! My daughter! Helen! I was sitting there with a hard-on ready to explode and I'd got it up watching my own daughter's tush.
"Allwaysalways: well papa?"
Shit. She was even calling me Papa. And to add to the general fucked-up-ness of the situation, my hard-on wasn't abating. It was actually twitching excitedly at the prospect. Not having any idea how I could deal with this, I closed the webpage.
My daughter. My little girl is doing sex shows. Y'know, I could have lived my whole life without that datum. She'd told her Mom she had a summer job in telemarketing. Sure, we were disappointed that she wouldn't be home for the holidays but students always need money and we were proud of our independent little girl. But this? This isn't telemarketing. Ok, so it's closer to stripping than hooking but still... Strippers just take their clothes off and dance. Cam girls tend to have to get a whole lot more explicit than that. How many guys have watched her push those beads up her tush? How many have jerked off as that dildo stretched her wide? Oh Shit! This was too fucked up. Mental images of Helen using the toys were making my cock twitch. I couldn't possibly deny I was turned on, even while I was internally ranting about what my little girl was doing for money.
I'd call her. That's what I'd do. Call her and talk to her about it. I reached for the telephone and speed dialled her mobile.
"Hi Daddy. What's up?" She sounded so chipper I lost my nerve.
"Hello Sweetheart. Why does anything have to be up?"
"Because you never call me. It's always Mom."
"So? Then it's about time I did. You're always talking to your mother. I just thought... It'd be nice to hear your voice for a change. I always get your news second hand." How on earth was I going to get on to the subject of her 'job'?
"It's good to hear you too, Daddy, but I'm at work right now."
"So late?" Yeah Sweetheart, Daddy knows you're at work. That's what's up.
"I need the overtime. Tuition to pay."
"Helen... I've told you before, if you need help with that..." Shit! I'd gladly cover all her tuition at this point, just to get her off the internet. But I wish my cock would go back to sleep. Damn! Helen's voice is so sexy. Oh God! I can't be lusting after my own daughter. I just can't.
"I know, Daddy, and its sweet of you to offer... but I want to pay my own way if I can."
I gave in to the demons and reopened the browser, navigating back to Allwaysalways' chat room. I heard a kerching noise over the telephone as I re-entered.
"What was that?" I asked. Not that I needed to. Some cam-girls have sound and you hear the kerching from their PCs whenever a customer with credit enters their room. It is the money they're interested in after all.
"Just someone reaching their sales target." Helen lied smoothly. On screen, she was lying face down with her feet in the air, propped on her elbows, holding her phone to her ear and typing with her free hand.
"Allwaysalways: welcome back papa"
I could hear Helen typing in the background.
