"Since I'm going to be out of town, you should buy Linda chocolates and roses and take her for a nice dinner for Valentine's Day."
"But you always give me one of your finest blowjobs as a thank you."
"And if you get me drunk, I let you fuck my ass too."
"But she's our daughter..."
"Technically, my daughter, your stepdaughter. So what? She's eighteen. Maybe not legal to get drunk, but I happen to know she has a fake ID. And she definitely looks old enough to drink. You won't have any trouble getting her served."
"But you can't mean for me to have sex with Linda."
"Why not, if that's how the night ends? I just hate the idea of you being alone and lonely while I'm away at the sales conference. I want you to know that I will miss our Valentine's tradition. No reason you should miss it too."
And that's how I ended up at the most expensive joint in town on Valentine's Day with my stepdaughter. My wife had actually arranged to have the dozen red roses delivered first thing in the morning, as was our tradition. The card still bore my name and the motto "Love, forever," but the delivery was clearly addressed to Linda. That got me a strange look.
Linda was still dressed in her shorty silk nightie as she closed the door on the delivery person and turned to see me waiting on the stairs.
"Thank you, Daddy. No one has ever sent me a dozen red roses before."
Linda called me Daddy when she was in a good mood. I had met her mother when Linda was only two, so she had grown up knowing me as a parent figure. She reserved calling me by name for moments of exasperation. Which seemed to come more often as she matured into a young woman. She seldom called me Daddy anymore.
I took my hand out from behind my back and showed her the heart shaped box of chocolates that her mother had picked out for me to give to her. They were identical with the treats that I typically had presented to my wife even before we were married, and every Valentine's Day since.
"Oh, Daddy..."
"Be my Valentine?"
"But Mommy is your Valentine..."
"Except she's not here."
Just then Linda's phone rang. It was her mother. The call was brief, and Linda had little to say other than "yes". After the call ended, she informed me that her mother had told Linda that we had a reservation for dinner, and that Linda should get dressed up and go with me.
"She told me to make sure that we both had a good time, just like you do every year."
"And what did you say?"
"Yes, Daddy, yes."
Her eyes shone with excitement and her mouth spread into a wide grin, displaying her perfect white teeth. She looked so much like a younger version of her mother that it made my knees weak. I squinted, unsure whether or not I was watching her nipples harden under the filmy fabric of her nightie.
Linda bounded up the stairs past me, pausing just long enough to cross her arms behind my neck, drawing my body tight against hers and planting a wet kiss on my cheek. Her nipples were in fact rock hard as they pressed against me. My cock stiffened. I wondered whether she noticed how it tented my pants. Would that gross her out? Would she reconsider having dinner with me?
"Thank you, thank you, Daddy. I promise I'll be good all day so that I deserve the night out. And I want to make sure that you have a great time even though I know you'll be missing Mommy."
I turned and watched as she flew the rest of the way up the stairs, the hem on the nightie bouncing up to reveal that her firm young ass was bare. She vanished into the bathroom, and I stood there frozen, listening to the shower run, imagining how she must look as she soaped up her lithe young body.
My hard cock led me up to the bedroom. The only way I could last until dinner was to gush great gobs of goo right then. It was easy, as I stroked myself, to picture Linda soaping up her perky tits. Would she be unable to resist playing with the nipples? What shade were they anyway? Would I find out soon?
The suds would run down her flat tummy to her quim. Was she shaved? Trimmed? Natural?
As I stroked, I pictured her trimmed like her mother into just a landing strip. Or maybe, continuing another tradition, trimmed into the shape of a heart for Valentine's Day?
Would she lean back against the shower wall as her fingers found her pearl? Would she toss her hair as she bent her neck, that kissable, biteable neck, breathing heavily as her climax approached?
Of course, I imagined that she was fantasizing about me being in the shower with her. Unless she was already picturing what might happen on our date?
Just then, I heard some loud gasping over the sound of the running water. That was all the inspiration I required to explode, hopefully in unison with my stepdaughter.
I heard the bathroom door open and the patter of her little feet heading to her bedroom- the one that still had the bedraggled stuffed bunny on the bed and the posters of teen heartthrobs on the walls. Was it possible she was still a virgin? That was hard to believe given how hot she was, and how flirtatious. If she could act naughty around me, I could hardly imagine how she behaved with men her own age. Unless it was teachers she preferred?
This cavalcade of thoughts consumed the time it took for my cock to shrivel in my fist. By the time I found a tissue to clean the mess, I heard Linda's door open again, and the rapid staccato sounds of her high heels as she dashed down the stairs and out the door, late for school again. It was wonderful how Linda liked to dress like a woman, following in her mother's footsteps.
