"They're just girls Steffie; I'd never have sex with young friends of yours, I've known them since they were little girls, they're my patients," he protested fiercely as he grew ever harder against my stomach.
"You don't like them? You don't think they have nice bodies Daddy? You don't think they're sexy when you see them naked in your office?" I demanded.
"They're nice girls honey, but they're too young for me..."
"They're woman now Daddy, like me. Don't you think I'm pretty? Sexy? Don't you think men want me?" I cooed into his ear, each breath tickling him, caressing him, inflaming him.
"Of course, you're beautiful honey, but..." he stuttered, reddening as he spoke.
"If I wasn't your daughter, your little girl, would you want to make love to me Daddy?" I pressed him for an answer even as my fingers moved onto and around his hardness.
"Jesus Steffie!" He groaned rolling away from me, and then rose up and jumped out of bed, his long shaft bouncing proudly as he moved.
"Awww, stay in bed with me a few more minutes Daddy," I pled as he disappeared into his bathroom. What's he thinking about I wondered as I heard the shower running. I know your body wants me Daddy but what about you?
I was on my back naked, my legs spread, when Daddy reappeared minutes later, drops of water dotting his broad chest, a white towel wrapped around his waist. I had one knee raised in the air, and my thin strands of blond pubic hair were no barrier as his eyes locked on my pink insides as he approached the bed.
"C'mon sweetie, time to get up, you don't want to be late for school," he prodded, trying to act naturally as he sat next to me and lightly ran his hand over my shaking knee and up and down my inner thigh.
"God it's only six-thirty Dad, why are you up so early anyway?" I complained as I pushed my knee further into his hand, opening myself further to his hungry gaze.
"I have an operation at eight honey, I gotta rush," he explained as he quickly stood and started to pull his briefs up his hairy legs, catching them on his again raging hard-on.
"He'll never fit, it's too big," I giggled as I watched Daddy try to stuff his fat cock under the inadequate material. "I like it when I see him so hard Daddy, do you need any help?" I continued as Daddy blushed and turned away from my eager eyes.
Finally dressed, he turned back to me and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead before saying, "Now you be good today Steffie. I should be home around seven; do you want me to pick up something for dinner?"
"Some Thai maybe," I suggested.
"How's the booking of our trip going anyway honey? You've only got a couple of days more you know. Have you got it all finalized?" he asked as he moved, his eyes never leaving me as he backed towards the door.
"I finished yesterday Daddy. I'll give you all the details tonight. Bye, love you," I yelled as he finally slipped through the doorway.
"Oh Jesus," I moaned aloud as I heard the front door slammed shut, the fingers of my left hand snaking down between my already damp thighs. I watched myself in the wall mirror facing the bed, and could see my engorged nether lips, my erect clit, my fingers as they slowly spread my slit and penetrated my throbbing pussy.
It almost hurt as I arched upwards to meet my probing finger, yet even this inadequate replacement for Daddy's big prick still brought me to a shuddering orgasm in minutes, my frustration assuaged momentarily by my copious spending. I brought my sopping fingers to my mouth and reveled in my taste, wishing only that it was mixed with Daddy's thick white sauce.
"Paris," I mumbled as I sucked my index finger, "Just four more days Daddy. We'll make love for the first time in Paris," I promised myself aloud.
I'd often slipped into Daddy's bed over the last eight years, ever since the day Mom had run off with her lover and left us. It had always been innocent until last February, when I'd finally realized I didn't want the boys my age who in increasing numbers were flocking around me; neither Billy nor Jason had come close to igniting the passion that Daddy could arouse with just one kind look, one gesture, one caress. Lying in Daddy's bed, still warm from his body, I thought back to that February night four months ago that had precipitated everything that was now happening in my life.
FEBUARY 1994
Daddy had surprised me on that night four months ago, taking me out for an evening of dining and dancing at one of Pittsburgh's most glamorous night spots – my coming out party he had called it. A celebration of my being accepted that week into the September 1994 Freshman Class of Harvard Medical School
I had worn high heels and my sexiest dress, a new, black, clinging silk number, to celebrate the occasion, my breasts free under the low cut top, the high slit in the dress exposing my firm, long thighs with every step I made. I had been elated when I had come downstairs and Daddy's mouth had plopped open, clearly stunned at the picture I made.
"What?" I demanded, surprised how good it felt to have my Daddy so obviously excited watching me.
His gasped, "You're so beautiful Steff," combined with the way his eyes roamed hungrily over me excited me in a way I'd never been before. He's your Daddy silly, I thought to myself as he walked me arm-in-arm to the car, but still remembered the comments my friends were always making about Daddy, about how they'd love to be alone with him.
It was the perfect evening and Daddy made me feel like a girl who had been transformed into a Princess, his Princess, and I, with no prior plan or conscious desire suddenly started to treat him like a real man, a sexy man. I danced closer than I would have normally, I repeatedly bent over or adjusted my top so he had view after view of my full breasts, my hard crimson nipples; sitting, I moved my dress so the slit was towards the front, my wispy thin red silk panties continually exposed to his hungry stare.
I plastered myself against him as we danced; pushing my breasts, my hard nipples into his chest, grinding my mound into him as my fingers gently caressed his hair, his neck. It was then that I felt it for the first time, felt Daddy's thick spear rubbing, probing urgently against my stomach. It seemed too big, dwarfing what I had felt when Billy, when Jason, when others had danced with me.
I was flushed with excitement when we finally got home after three a.m., both of us slightly tipsy from the wine and the sexual energy echoing between us. I was actually shaking as he escorted me to my bedroom door, new wild, impossible, incestuous sexual thoughts whirling through my brain. Waiting, wondering what next, he surprised me, simply presenting me a small, gold wrapped package as we stood in the doorway.
"What is it Daddy," I asked as I opened the small rectangular box. "Oh God," I shrieked when I saw the necklace of perfect white pearls sitting on a bed of black silk. A card had slipped from the top of the box when I went to lift the lustrous string, and recognizing Daddy's miniature scrawl, and shaking I read:
Dear Stephanie
I'm so proud of you Steff! No father on Earth has ever been luckier than I – to have a daughter as kind and beautiful and intelligent and nice and caring and loving as you is the best thing that could possibly have happened to me.
It seems just yesterday that I so proudly brought you home from the hospital. To think that today that little girl is now eighteen and soon will be leaving me for university and adulthood is almost incomprehensible. I'm so proud of you honey, how well you've done, what an outstanding person you've become.
There has never been anyone else in the world I have loved more than you; I can't imagine having lived my life without you in it. You bring so much joy into my life
Thank you darling, I love you so much,
Daddy
p.s. I thought maybe you'd like to wear these pearls when we have dinner in Paris this summer
I think it was that moment in time when I realized there was no one in the world I'd rather spend my life with, that there was no one else in the world I wanted to make love to more than Daddy. As I stood sobbing in his arms, being hugged and kissed by the only person I had ever loved, I felt a surge of sexual attraction echo through my body, my tongue, my lips, my nipples, my liquid insides, my whole body responding to a man as it never had done before.
My fumblings with Billy in the back seat of his car, the kissing, the touching, the frantic grappling; sleepovers with Jacqui and Monica where we talked endlessly of boys and sex, and even experimented among ourselves; and even the night with Jason, just weeks ago, when I had felt for the first, and so far, only time, a penis penetrate me; none of these experiences had prepared me for what my body was now doing, feeling, demanding, urging.
"Steff, are you okay?" finally penetrated into my foggy thoughts and brought me slowly back to a new reality.