Mr. E was laying in his bed, his dick hard as a rock. The images in his head playing over and over, as he gently caressed his balls. He shouldn't have these thoughts. Shouldn't let them fuel his desire to start rubbing his dick. The memory of earlier in the evening started to replay, as his hand moved up his shaft, toward the head of his cock.
He had been walking down the hall of his three bedroom house. A house only occupied by him and his daughter, Jessica. For the past three years it had felt hollow, ever since losing his wife.
He could hear the shower flowing in the bathroom a few feet down the hall. She was always running the shower for at least fifteen minutes before she got in, even after he told her, multiple times, how expensive her showers had made the water bill. "
It's only water, dad. I don't even take that long'a showers
." His timing of one such shower had reached forty minutes.
"Jessica, the shower is running, and no one is in it!" He called down the hallway.
No response. As usual.
Shaking his head, Mr. E. approached the bathroom door. She was in the shower, he could tell by the sound of the water. "
Guess she forgot to close the door
," he thought, as he reached out to grab the handle. She often walked the hall in only a towel before getting in the shower, a behavior, he now noticed, that had increased since turning eighteen two months ago.
As he reached for the door his heart skipped, and he noticed her figure out of the corner of his eye. In that split second of recognition he could tell that her body was facing the door, legs spread too far apart to be standing normally. He could tell that her arms were up, one seemed to be clutching the back of her head, one raised to her chest. He followed the instinct to glance, not giving it a second thought.
That second thought didn't come to him then, only now, as he lay in his dark bedroom, rubbing his cock. "
I shouldn't be hard because of this. She is my daughter. I must be a sick fuck
," he thought, slipping back into the memory of what took place earlier in the night.
She was standing there. Shoulder length red hair soaked with the water, it running down her face. Her hands, one behind her head, as he had recognized, one massaging her left breast. He should have stopped looking. Should have felt bad about the way he suddenly saw her. Exposed.
His gaze continued down her body, caressing her ribs, her navel, her hips. Then, it drifted to the mound between her legs. He became fully hard at that moment. Backing out of view, spying, he watched as she slightly thrust her water soaked slit back and forth. She was playing with herself.
"
Oh god, why did I watch
?!
My own daughter
?!
Why am I touching myself while I am thinking about it
?!" It didn't stop his hand from moving his foreskin back from the head of his member. "
I don't want to stop
," he thought.
Her hands had drifted over her body as he watched. Caressing her breasts, then her face. Moving from her ribs...down...to her cunt. The hair around her mound was trimmed short, and only covered her slit. Being a redhead, like her mother, it was barely visible though.
"
Jesus, I watched my daughter finger her pussy. The pussy I helped give her
!" He remembered how his heart had started racing when she slipped a finger-tip between her cunt lips. "
Oh my god, I'm going to cum
!" he thought. Mr. E. came, squirting his seed onto his stomach, feeling his dick pulse in his hand. He couldn't stop thinking about her, his baby girl.
She had started slow. Her finger barely moving on what he knew was her clit. After a few minutes her hip thrusts grew in intensity and he watched as his daughter came; her body almost convulsing with the feeling that was obviously coursing through her body. Her hands moved back to her head, her face, and her neck. She started squeezing her breasts. No bigger than handfuls, at least for him. They seemed big in her hands.
"
Wow, I haven't cum like that since
..." he didn't want to complete the painful thought. "
Okay, that's done. I need to figure out why I would do this? Why thinking about Jessica made me want to touch myself
?" He started thinking about the encounter again, "
What was it
?
The way she had positioned herself and left the bathroom door open? Almost asking to be watched
?" He imagined the scene; her feet pressed over the lip of the shower, propping her body against the wall, facing the door. Her legs spread. Mr. E's cock started to twitch in a way that told him he would start getting hard again. "
Really
?!" he thought, and drifted back into the memory.