A Daughter's Lust, Restrained

Her breasts were not only large, but also firm. Her long, perfectly straight blond hair had fallen partially in front of her shoulders, reaching just down past her nipples. They had been hard to see, in the dark, but seemed to be larger than half dollars, and only slightly darker in color than her smooth flesh.

He'd been so focused on her breasts, trying to see them without visibly taking his eyes off of hers, that he hadn't taken in much more. He did retain the impression of her overall curves, with a taught, narrow waist above hips that bowed outward nicely, then back into strong, shapely legs. It was almost like looking at a living centerfold, he thought. It was too much like looking at a centerfold.

That was why she had trouble getting guys. That was why she had so little experience with sex. She was too damned gorgeous. It was intimidating.

* * *

Amy looked at her dim image in the dresser mirror as she removed the second earring.

Why had she done that? Why had she tricked him into looking at her? She was a churning sea of emotions this evening, seemingly unable to navigate herself safely through them.

The night had been a disaster. At first all of the guys, each and every one of them, had clearly taken notice of her. She could feel her friends cringe as they each realized they were coming in a distant second to her, or worse. Then it all fell apart.

Amy had tried to flirt, and to make herself clearly available. She even tried starting conversations herself a few times, instead of passively letting them make all of the opening moves. Maybe that was her mistake. Maybe she came across as desperate this time.

Amy tossed the earring onto the dresser with a tinny clatter. She was so damned horny she was going to burst. It had been a half a year since she'd been with a guy, a whole half a year. The harder she'd tried tonight, the more obvious it became that she was going home alone again. She didn't have to have the cutest one. She would have taken any one of those guys and given them the night of their lives, if they'd just talked to her for more than a few minutes.

But no, it only took about thirty minutes for them to pair up with each of her friends, until she was left sitting there, on the outside, listening to them talk, the only person in a crowded bar that was alone with a half a dozen friends beside her.

Something had to change.

Amy felt emboldened. Maybe it was the drinks that the guys kindly and needlessly kept buying for her. Maybe it was all of the frustration. Maybe it was the fact that she was just feeling hornier than she had ever felt in her life, as if she were a bitch in heat.

Fine, she thought, feeling a little angry at all men in general. She could be a bitch in heat. Watch her.

* * *

As Don stepped out of the kitchen, he saw Amy standing by the window. He'd thought she'd go throw a robe on, or something, but she was still wonderfully naked. At least she'd had the decency to leave the lights off.

Don tried to act as uninhibited as she was, trying to ignore the painfully obvious. He stood beside her, looking out the window at the city skyline.

"Rough night?" he asked kindly.

"Guys suck," she said.

"Not all guys. Not me."

She looked sideways at him, expressionless, before turning to face him. He turned with her. Don fought the urge, once again, to let his eyes fall lower to enjoy her body. He held her gaze solemnly, instead.

They stood there in silence for a while, father and daughter, facing each other. Eventually, she let her gaze fall to his chest, where she let one finger slowly trace the curve of the collar of his t-shirt. She didn't touch him, just the cloth of his collar, and even that very gently.

"You owe me," she said, looking into his chest with a distant expression.

"Owe you what?"

"I told you before. You said if I came home alone, you'd have to show me what I was missing."

Don shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She seemed so sad tonight. It was unusual. Something was very wrong. He knew he had to tread lightly.

"I didn't say it, you did," he answered, trying to sound firm without being cruel. "I didn't promise anything. You said I had to promise, but I didn't."

"You said I was hot enough," she stated matter-of-factly, still staring into his chest.

"You are. Maybe too hot."

She looked up into his eyes. He froze as she tipped her head up, keeping her eyes on his. She raised herself up on her toes, to bring her lips to within a hair's breadth of his. Once there she closed her eyes. She held herself there for a long while, utterly still, almost but not quite kissing him. After a time, eyes still closed, she dropped away.

Don felt a slight pang of disappointment as she withdrew.

"If you were another guy, that kiss would have been gentle. It would have been just enough to let you know that I wanted you to push things further. And just in case, I would have pressed my tits into you, so you could feel my body, feel my needs, clearly."

With that, she eased her body closer to his, looking down at her own nipples. Don found his eyes compulsively drawn there as well. Once set, he couldn't take his eyes away. He felt his pulse pounding as Amy moved her erect nipples to stop just short of touching the fabric of his shirt. She moved them, ever so slowly, left and right, as if they were brushing his ribs, but not.

Don realized with a start that she was looking into his eyes, while he was staring at her chest. He jerked his eyes back to hers. She wore a small, sly, tight-lipped smile.

"This isn't fair. You're overdressed," she said teasingly. Her tone was even, but a bit husky.

* * *

Amy had decided to go for it. She was going to play this game as much as she wished. She wouldn't go too far, but she'd go somewhere. To hell with everyone.

She reached forward with both hands to work on her father's belt buckle. He quickly stepped back, out of her reach, so she stepped forward in turn.

"I'll do it," he said hastily, as if by doing so himself, and keeping her hands off of him, it would be okay.

Amy let her eyes rise up to look into his, giving him some sense of privacy, as he coolly unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop to the floor.

"Is that all?" Amy asked coquettishly.

He hesitated, and then pulled his t-shirt over his head. Amy tipped her head to the side, giving him a look that loudly repeated her question without making a sound. He hesitated just one moment more, then broke into a shy smile. She didn't often see that expression on his face. He wasn't the shy type.

"What the hell," he said, clearly fighting his embarrassment.

A moment later, he tucked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slid them down and stepped out of them.

"Okay, now we're even," he announced.

Amy stepped back to admire him. She brazenly let her gaze fall down to his crotch. She smiled in satisfaction not only at the sight of his cock, but it's excited state.

"You weren't lying. You do think I'm hot," she cooed, stepping back toward him.

She let one hand move toward his cock, fighting the conflicting urges to both grab it, and to stop this silly game, to turn and run into her room. It stood out in front of him, not quite straight forward, but actually arching upward, like a crescent moon. He stood perfectly still himself, now clearly confused and frightened.

She let one finger trace its outline, never touching it, simply moving down along the top of its length, around to the bottom, then again back toward her, beneath it. Next she formed a half circle with her fingers, to glide them along it, from base to tip and back, several times, as if stroking it, but all the while never, ever touching his flesh.

She looked up to see his eyes focused on her hand, watching her movements, just as hers had been helplessly focused on his delicious, forbidden cock.

* * *

Don watched his daughter's hands moving over him. He was frozen in a combination of shock, anticipation and lust. This had all begun so quickly. He didn't know how to deal with it, or if he should deal with it. Part of him screamed that he had to get dressed and hurry out the door, that Amy wasn't herself. He needed to help her separate from all of this. He was her father. He was responsible.

Another part of him, the stronger part, told him to let go. It told him to stop lying to himself, that he'd never wanted anything more than this. He'd never wanted any woman more than his little girl, now a grown woman. He had never seriously considered it, but he had fantasized about it. He felt no shame there. She was beautiful, and he knew it, everyone knew it.

Anyway, so far, this was harmless. She had never touched him. They wouldn't let it go that far. They couldn't.

"I can't touch you," she said huskily, as if reading his thoughts. "But you have to show me how we would, if we could."

He looked up to meet her eyes. He could play, too, he thought. He was the bold one. It was time to take charge.

Don stepped forward, taking care to keep his erect cock from touching her belly. He lifted his open hands to place them behind her shoulders, as if pulling her to him. His hands hovered there, feeling the warmth of her in the thin air between his fingertips and her skin. She leaned forward toward him, until her nipples again hovered an eyelash away from of his own chest, straining to reach just a fraction further, to actually touch him.

He lowered his lips to stop just shy of hers. He let his lips slide ever so slightly up and down, left and right, much as he would if he were passionately moving his lips over hers, if they were actually kissing. He let one soft, warm breath escape from between his barely parted lips, letting it pass over hers, before pulling away.

He listened to her suck a long, deep breath in through her teeth. He let his hands almost caress her arms, taking a path down toward her hands. She looked down to one side, watching him glide over her. She lifted one hand up to meet his. Their hands hovered there, in space, almost together, almost touching, almost holding each other. Their fingers were almost intertwined.

They stood that way for a while, moving their hands in space, dancing around each other, exploring each other's fingers in slow, sinuous motions, while almost, but not quite, caressing each other.

She smiled softly at him, a look of low simmering lust clear in her face. She stepped backwards toward her bedroom, keeping her hand near his. He hastened to follow, to keep their hands close together, as if she were pulling him with her into her room.

* * *

Once beside her bed, Amy let her hand fall away from his. She put one knee onto the mattress, to crawl on all fours up to her pillow. She knew he would watch her ass as she did it. She purposely made the entire motion as slowly, swayingly erotic as she could. Once she reached the center of the bed, she rolled smoothly onto her back, resting her head on the pillow to look over at her darling daddy.

He stood there, for her, in his glory. His torso was well muscled, with a thin layer of golden curling chest hair. It marked him as firmly masculine. She looked down at his stiff cock, and decided he was more than just masculine.

It looked so much harder, so much sturdier than any cock she'd ever seen. She wondered briefly how it would feel, how hot it was to the touch, how large it would feel inside her. She dismissed the thought as soon as she could. That would be going too far.

"Show me how I would be seduced, Daddy. How would you touch me, now?" she breathed at him.

"Princess, we shouldn't. I'm your..."

"You're my daddy, and you'd never touch me, or hurt me. I know that. You know that. But just now, just for tonight.. show me. Please."

He hesitated.

"Please," Amy said, without reminding him that he was her daddy. "Please. I trust you. Completely."

He hesitated a moment longer, but thankfully didn't need more encouragement. Her father eased himself onto the bed beside her, at first kneeling there, back straight, with his beautiful cock hovering just above her thighs, just out of reach.

His head came down t

She realized that she'd let a touch of real jealousy creep into her voice. She glanced at her father to see if he'd noticed. His face was unreadable, cast back into that sexy, stern, hard glare he used so often. She actually had to look away to compose herself, as she felt her knees start to tremble at the sight of it.

Amy wasn't sure herself what she was saying. She wasn't sure why she'd started this line of conversation. It had been fun a few sentences back, but it had suddenly grown awkward. She didn't know what she was saying, or thinking. He did this to her sometimes. He just had that effect on her.

hen. With his eyes half closed, he moved his mouth and cheek to her breast, sliding near her as if nuzzling her. His lips formed a pucker, then blew a soft breath onto her nipple. His lips parted slightly to glide around the curve of her breast, then shift to the other, then shift back. His hand reached out, letting the backs of his fingers trace a path along the underside of her tits, so close she thought she could actually feel him.

His lips lowered to her skin again, drizzling a light rain of ghostly almost kisses down her belly, until his head hovered right beside her thighs. Amy heard herself whimper softly as he moved closer and closer to the source of her frustration, to her burning slit, yearning and sizzling with an unfilled need.

* * *

Don inched his way closer and closer to his daughter's inviting mound of pubic hair. It took a while, partly because he enjoyed the slow, aching tease of taking his time, and partly because he knew he should be doing this. Yet as soon as he'd seen that his daughter's pubic hair was a light golden brown, like his, he knew he had to continue. It was beautiful.

And he'd never have a chance like this ever again.

With his face as close to her as he could get, he exhaled a long, hot breath onto her skin.

* * *

The feel of her father's breath on the moist, outer edges of her cunt was unbelievable. Amy honestly thought that no other sexual contact she'd ever had, with any man, had ever matched what she felt at that moment. It took all of her strength not to beg him to go further, or even more directly, to simply thrust her hips upward into his face, forcing physical contact between them, breaking the barrier they'd foolishly erected, letting her fuck his face with complete abandon.

She had to do something. She had to let him know how wonderful this was. She let a long, breathy, high pitched squeal escape from her lips. She'd intended to do it, orchestrated it, but once it started, it took on a life of its own. She couldn't stop it.

"Lick me, Daddy," she said, once her squeal had run its course. "Please, show me how you'd lick me."

* * *

Don felt Amy lift her head to watch him. He had to move quickly, if slightly, as she shifted, to avoid accidentally touching her. Part of him thought, hoped, that that might have been her intention.

Once she'd settled herself on her elbows, he looked up into her eyes. He made a show of snaking his tongue out, letting it cruise all around the edges of her beautiful cunt lips. He wished he could use his hands to spread them wider, to open her to him, but that was against the rules. He repeated the motion, but this time he cheated just a bit, letting his tongue touch and brush the tips of her shimmering pubic hairs, knowing that she must feel it.

He worked his way up to her clit, ever so close to touching her flesh, stealing occasional glances to see that she was still watching, and to enjoy the expression of animal lust on her face as he worked. Once he reached her swollen button, he stopped to blow on it, too. As she felt his breath on her clit, Amy squealed again in delight, and then laughed.

"Oh, yes Daddy. Yes, you're good, you're good."

She closed her eyes to enjoy the sensations. He waited until she was watching again to move his tongue in quick, tight circles in the air above her clit. If he could touch her, he would stay here for hours, doing just this, working her clit over and over with his tongue until she begged him to fuck her, then longer still, until he couldn't take it any more.

* * *

Her daddy made a beautiful, precious "o" with his lips, shaping them as if he were ready to take her clit completely into his mouth, to suck on it lovingly for her pleasure. Amy threw her head back onto her pillow, immediately regretting that the act hadn't accidentally pushed her tormented pussy against his delicious mouth.

She threw her head from side to side, feeling like this torture she'd created for herself was an unbearable agony. She couldn't stand it, having him there, having a handsome, sexy, powerful man right there, ready to fill her needs, yet not. If only he weren't her father.

"Fuck me, Daddy," she begged, partly as part of the game, but mostly as a veiled expression of her true desires.

"Fuck me as much as you want. Fuck your princess now."

* * *

Don stayed where he was, pretending to work on her clit, blowing warm breaths on her thighs and her glistening cunt lips, teasing her incessantly as she begged him to take her. He loved being there, being that close to her, seeing how wet he had made her. The scent of her filled his nostrils in a way no woman's ever had. He'd always sensed it, that scent, but had never knowingly enjoyed the aroma of a woman's sex like he did now.

He reminded himself that she was his daughter. He had to, to keep himself from abandoning all restraint and plunging into her right at that moment. But if there was any way that he could, he was going to make her come, almost no matter what it took.

Finally, when he felt he couldn't listen to her pleas for him to fuck her any longer, he slid smoothly up to hold his body over hers, very carefully keeping his arms and thighs and body from touching her at all.

* * *

Amy looked up into her father's stern face as he held himself above her, propped on two strong arms. She looked down the length of their bodies, watching his rigid cock as it moved up and back in a sawing motion, over her pubic hair and her belly, just as it would if it were inside her. The action worked well because of the wickedly delicious bend in his cock. Without it, his cock head would have been brushing against her skin. Instead, the ridge of his shaft glided over her like a sea gull skimming along over an ocean.

He would move his cock down low, hovering right at the opening of her pussy, threatening to plunge into her at any moment. He would thrust himself forward, always keeping the tip of his cock just away from Amy's cunt lips, always depriving her of the feel of his cock actually touching her hungry pussy.

He was so deliciously close. It would be so easy for him to enter her then. He could do it, just once, just for a while, just to let the forlorn insides of her cunt know how it felt. She wouldn't mind. Just for a short while.

She watched his cock move toward her, then pull back, move toward her, then pull back. She waited until she had a sense of the rhythm, his rhythm, then she closed her eyes, trying to imagine it inside her. She moaned quietly at the thought, then more loudly. Soon her own sounds filled her ears as if made by another woman.

She snapped her eyes open, embarrassed that she'd let herself go so far, so fast. She looked into his face, to see him grinning at her. She melted beneath him yet again.

"Do you like it, Princess? Do you like having my cock slipping in and out of you like this?"

She smiled up at him, while closing her eyes and nodding, returning to her world of imagined fulfillment.

"Yes, baby, yes. I do, I really do."

"You like my cock?"