(Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and, as such, does not reflect any actual events. Character resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All characters portrayed engaging in any sexual acts are over the age of eighteen. If depictions of any form of non- or semi-consensual sex offends or bothers you in any way, perhaps consider that the phrase "Reader Discretion Advised" may apply to you. The author does not condone any of his demented fantasies being played out in reality unless all parties involved are of legal age, sound mind and fully agreeable to the scenario beforehand. Please, remember it's just a story and try to not take it too seriously. Relax and enjoy the ride!)
Chapter One: Invitation to Temptation
"How many girls?"
"Just four of us," my daughter counted out the fingers of one hand. "Me, Dani, Becka and Lin."
"And how many days?"
"Just the weekend. They'll come over Friday night and head home Sunday after cake and ice cream." She clutched at my arm and fluttered the lashes of her big, blue eyes up at me, "please, daddy?"
"I dunno, Sarah," I replied hesitantly, ignoring the images of lingerie pillow fights floating up through my brain. "I took vacation days so I would be off during your birthday. What am I supposed to do all that time?"
"Anything you like! We'll keep ourselves busy and I promise we'll stay quiet and out of your way. You'll barely even know there's anyone here!"
"Somehow, I doubt that," I chuckled at her. No straight man could easily ignore one pretty, young girl, let alone a whole group of them. I was suddenly and acutely aware of just how long it had been since I'd been with my ex-wife and I struggled to keep my libido from poking a hole in my pants. "Besides, I wanted to spend some time with you this weekend. I mean, it is your birthday. Eighteen is a big year, honey. I might have had plans already. You ever think of that?"
"Oh, daddy," she smirked at me, "don't be silly. You see me all the time and we can make special birthday plans later if you want. I promise, we can spend next weekend together, just you and me. And if you get bored this weekend, I think it would be safe to join us sometimes if you can stand the girly gossip. We're mostly going to just hang out and watch some shows and stuff. You can skip the make-overs or whatever when we start getting too silly."
I looked at her solemnly "And it's just going to be the four of you? For the whole weekend?"
"That's what I said, isn't it?"
I raised a questioning eyebrow, "so, no boys?"
She rolled her eyes at me, turning pink with embarrassment, and shrieked, "daddy! No, no boys! Jeeze! You act like I'm thirteen or something."
"Sorry, honey," I took her hand and squeezed it, "it's just part of my dad training. I know you and your friends are good girls."
"So, it's ok? I can invite them over?" She was practically vibrating with anticipation as she pleaded with me.
I pursed my lips tightly, feigning indecision to watch her squirm for a moment longer, then relented with a broad smile, "sure, sweetie, you can have your friends over for a birthday weekend."
She clapped and bounced happily, drawing my attention to the perky, braless jiggle under her pink blouse. I was caught for a moment, distracted by the alluring display, then I quickly shook my head, trying to clear away the sudden, lewd thoughts burbling up from my inner teenager. I was perving on my own daughter! She looked far too much like her mother had at that age and the old, intimate memories sometimes caused my control to falter. Spending a weekend with a house full of hotties may be the stuff of many male fantasies, but I had to remind myself that I was lusting after my daughter's friends, not some random sorority sluts at a frat party. I hoped she hadn't seen me staring at her.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she giggled excitedly and threw her arms around my neck. "You're the best dad ever!"
"You're welcome," I pulled away from her gently, desperate to keep from accidentally brushing too much of my anatomy against her. I felt ashamed of myself for having inappropriate thoughts and her nubile body rubbing against me wasn't making things any easier. I cleared my throat to cover my embarrassment and said, "let them all know, then get yourself put together so we can make a trip to the store for drinks and snacks and stuff. I'll be in my room when you're ready to go."
She skipped away, her wheat-blonde ponytail wagging behind her, and flopped onto the sofa, thumbing merrily at the screen of her phone. I sighed silently and headed to my bathroom to splash some cold water on my face.
"What the hell is wrong with you," I demanded of my dripping reflection as I reached for a towel. "That's your daughter, man! I don't care how long it's been since your divorce; you don't look at your daughter's tits like that!" I roughly patted my face dry and hung the towel back on the hanger, then gave myself a stern look in the mirror, poking at my reflection's chest. "That is your little girl and those are her friends she's inviting over. They are coming over for your daughter's birthday party, not for your perverted fantasies. Your daughter's friends, your daughter's birthday. Remember that."
There was a knock on my bedroom door and Sarah's voice came from the other side, "I'm ready when you are, daddy."
"Ok, I'll be right out." I took a deep breath and held it for a moment, then exhaled. 'This is going to be a long weekend,' I thought as I moved to get my shoes.
Thankfully, she had put on a bra, as well as a hoodie since I had seen her last. The relatively shapeless, grey mass with the logo of a local college emblazoned across the front made it easier to forget that my little girl was rapidly blossoming into full-blown womanhood. I had been noticing it more and more often recently, it seemed. It had been hard not to notice her developing curves and maturing tastes over the last few years since she came to live with me after the divorce. Her mother and I had never taught her to be shy or ashamed of her body, so she felt comfortable walking to the kitchen for a drink in just her panties or watching an after-shower show wearing nothing but a towel. We were so comfortable being together, people sometimes thought we were husband and wife, not father and daughter. I had watched her hips grow slowly wider and boobs plump up from training bras to C-cups. I had taken her clothes shopping and helped her pick ever more revealing swimwear. Being family, we had naturally seen a lot of each other in that casual, occasional way that happens when living with other people.
"You okay, dad?"
I blinked rapidly, realizing that I had been lost in my brooding thoughts and had gotten into the car and started driving down the road entirely on autopilot. "Um, yeah, sure. I'm fine. Why?"
"You just look irritated." She turned the radio off and touched my arm, "is everything alright?"
"Do I? Sorry." I flashed her a quick, reassuring smile, "no, I was just thinking about the weekend; making a mental shopping list, wondering if you girls will need anything special...besides cake and ice cream, of course. Trying to figure out what I'm going to do with myself while you're with them."
Her expression was dubious, "are you sure that's it? That little vein by your temple was thumping. That usually only happens when you're upset or something's gone wrong." She leaned in conspiratorially, "you always tell me I can talk to you about anything. That goes both ways, you know."
I glanced over at her, unsure if I really should share my recent appreciation for her feminine charms. 'What if she has been hiding similar feelings,' I wondered. 'What if she could be interested in me as a man?' I opened my mouth to confess to her, but the words wouldn't come out through a sudden attack of conscience. My inner teenager might be raging with hormones and eager to fuck anything with a hole and a pulse, but I was a forty-year-old man and a father. I damned well knew better! I forced my wicked wants away. 'Wait! What am I thinking? This is my little Sarah! No,' I silently decided, 'that would just make for an awkward weekend and I don't want to spoil her good time. Maybe someday, if the chance presents itself and it seems like she wouldn't be grossed out by the idea, but I need to get ahold of myself before I do something stupid that I'll regret.'
"Hello? Earth to dad," she interrupted my reverie, "I can see you talking to yourself in there. Share. What's up?"
She wasn't going to be satisfied until I answered her, so perhaps it was easiest to give her a little bit of the truth. "I...I'm just...concerned about this weekend. I don't want to embarrass you in front of your friends or anything and it's...well, it's a little...um, how do I say this?"
