How Do You Seduce Your Daughter?

How do you seduce your own daughter?

That was the question he needed answered.

He could remember being in his late teens and early twenties when all he had to do was ask the girl if she wanted to hang out, maybe watch a movie or something. If she shot him down the worse that'd happen was getting ribbed by his friends.

Then he'd gotten married and didn't have to fret over such things.

Years later, after a car accident, his wife had developed a drug problem and disappeared, leaving him to raise their daughter alone.

Even then it wasn't too difficult. He'd go out on a couple dates with someone and, if they hit it off, they'd discuss taking things to the next level, making any hook-up a prearranged conclusion. While it may not have been the most romantic approach, it protected his daughter as well as their kids. In those first years he'd been in his thirties, a good-looking guy whose active life kept him in in pretty good shape, so he'd actually been kind of promiscuous. Now he was in his early forties and still in shape, but he'd settled down a little. He had a couple friends that'd either come over to his place when Missy was out with friends, or he'd go to their place when their kids were out.

But now he was thinking about his own 18-year-old daughter.

How do you do it without causing serious, irreparable harm to the relationship?

The idea had first germinated the first day at the pool that summer, when he'd seen Missy in her new bikini. It wasn't any tinier than the ones she'd worn previously, it just seemed to fit her better. Her full c-cup breasts taxed the top and the bottoms hugged her little heart-shaped ass snugly. As she stood in the water pushing her long brown hair back, her slim back arched, jutting her tits out, and he'd sat in his chair dumbstruck, wondering when his little girl had turned in a young woman. From there he noticed her in other outfits; tight shorts that hugged her ass, skirts that barely reached mid-thigh, and tops that did a great job of displaying her breasts, all without being too slutty or skanky. This was what her wardrobe had gradually turned into over time. And while he hadn't particularly liked it, he had accepted it as a part of her own maturing process. Until now he hadn't really thought too much about it. But now, every time she entered a room he took a rather unfatherly assessment of her in her skimpy outfit, silently groaning with appreciation while simultaneously cursing himself.

It took a few months, but he eventually started wondering how he might seduce her.

But again, HOW do you do it?

Cause if this went wrong, there'd be a lot more fallout than some friends ribbing him.

His relationship with his daughter would be gravely damaged.

Hoping to find some magical answer he watched movies and read stories on-line. But they were little help. Most of the movies either had the daughter being extremely forward, or the dad simply started kissing and fondling the girl with no preliminary approach. As for the stories; they offered a little more variety in their set-ups, but still none offered a hard-and-fast answer to his question.

Adding to his torment was one movie in particular in which "the daughter" looked so much like his Missy that for a second he thought it was her, the large tattoo on the girl's arm the only thing really distinguishing her from Missy. She was about 5'4", like Missy, and had the same slim build with full breasts and a taunt little ass. She also had long brown hair and her face shined with the same shy, almost mousy demeanor. She even wore glasses. Not the same solid round frames, but glasses none the less. Mesmerized, he watched the girl respond to "the dad's" fondling of her. Watching his daughter's doppelganger being sexually touched was so exciting that he came hard long before the guy even started fucking her.

Any hesitations were erased in that moment.

He knew he wanted his daughter.

But he still didn't know HOW.

Then one night the need for a sure-fire "how" disintegrated in the ashes of an overwhelming need to just do it.

After dinner the two of them moved into the living room to watch a movie. He'd spent the evening admiring Missy in her tight shorts and t-shirt. Then, as he settled into his recliner with the remote in hand, she came over to stand by him, the long-braided pigtails of her hair hanging down to the swell of her ample breasts held snugly within her t-shirt.

"Can I sit in your lap, Daddy?" She asked.

While this not the norm any more, it was not unusual either.

"Of course, Sweetie," he smiled.

As she climbed into his lap, her lithe body nestling against him, he wrapped one arm around her so his hand rested innocently on her hip. She laid her head near his shoulder and he inhaled the sweet aroma of her hair mixed with a faint perfume. She settled her legs down along his, her toes resting on the recliner's footrest next to his feet. The movie started and after a few minutes she shifted in his lap, turning a little more to the side which meant one ample tit was pressing firmly against him. Suddenly he found it difficult to focus on the movie as thoughts and ideas, mixed with images of that movie, flooded his mind. Lost in his mental torment he failed to realize how his body was responding until Missy shifted in his lap. With a start he realized his cock had been growing within his slacks. And while he wasn't as large as some of the men in the movies, he was big enough that she had to be aware of it. In fact, she had shifted so that his growing member was nestled between her asscheeks.

The thought of it sent another rush of blood surging to his thickening member.

Did he hear a quiet little sigh escape her?

Oh fuck, man. A sudden, powerful surge of lust for his daughter coursed through him.

Yet he sat unmoving . . . frozen.

His mind raced with options, thinking about ways to broach the subject of his manhood on which she was nestled. Or just making some forward move like turning her face to his and pressing his lips to hers . . . driving his tongue into her mouth. He could also bring his hand up from her hip to cup her breast, or drop his other hand onto her thigh, stretching his fingers between her legs.

Or about a half dozen other things.

But he did none of them.

He was too nervous . . . too scared.

Again, fearing the damage to their relationship.

So he sat there, trying desperately to focus on the movie and will his cock to settle down, breathing a sigh of relief when the credits finally began to roll.

"I think it's time for bed," he announced.

"Yea?"

Did she sound disappointed?

"Yea, Sweetie."

"Ok."

Oh fuck, his mind groaned as she pulled herself from his lap, giving him an excellent view of her taunt little ass.

Turning around she looked down at him for a moment, her gaze wavering as she nibbled on her lip, thinking.

Another silent groan rolled through him as he saw two tiny spikes under her shirt.

"Um, Daddy...?" She whispered.

"Yes?" He held his breath, waiting . . . hoping for one of those movie moments where the daughter asks a blatant question that throws the door open to a night of incestual sex.

"Um... uh... never mind," she stammered, then headed off to her bedroom.

As she left, he silently cussed in frustration. Once he heard her bedroom door click shut he headed for his own room. Changing into pajama bottoms and no shirt, he stared at himself in his bathroom mirror as he brushed his teeth.

"What the fuck?" He asked his reflection after rinsing. "Why didn't you make a move?"

Standing there, the memory of his daughter's ass shifting atop his member as she snuggled back against him made his cock throb angrily.

"Fuck this," he growled after a moment.

Having made the decision to go for it, he was determined to act before he could lose his courage. He stalked from the bathroom and past his bed, toward his door. Still a part of him hoped for a miracle . . . hoped that when he opened his bedroom door he'd find Missy standing on the other side, about to knock, like in some of those movies he'd watched. But when he pulled the door open all he found was an empty hall. Stepping into it he saw a dim light coming from under her bedroom door.

Good, she's still awake.

"Missy?" He rapped lightly on her door.

"Come in, Daddy," she answered.

With his heart racing, he opened the door and stepped through into his daughter's bedroom. She was laying in her bed, bathed in the soft glow of her bedside lamp, a magazine held loose in one hand at her side. She was looking at him through her glasses, her hair still in the braids. A sheet covered her from the waist down and above it she wore a light-blue babydoll top with little bows tying the center shut. It was so sheer he could clearly see the curvature of her breasts as well as the darker circles of her areola atop them.

The image stunned him . . . made him freeze just a few steps into the room.

"Daddy?"

"Um, yea. Um," he stammered, forcing his legs to carry him further into the room. Reaching her bedside he struggled to not stare at her flimsily-covered breasts. "I um... I, um, wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Yes, um... uh..." Although determined to make an approach, he still had no idea HOW. He hadn't even thought about that part. But then a fragment of an idea occurred to him. He had no idea how it would work out, but he decided it was at least a start. "It's... um, It's about boys."

"'Boys' Daddy?"

"Yea... um...," he forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Finding it difficult to meet her gaze, and not stare at her breasts, he sat down beside her on the bed, hoping the new angle would make it easier. It didn't. It just made it easier to see the darker shading of her areola against the soft flesh tone of her luscious mounds. "Well, it's really about sex. I, uh... I assume you're sexually active. And I just want to make sure you're being careful."

"I'm on the pill," she set the magazine on her nightstand.

"Good. Good... um...," he still had no idea what he was doing. Damn it! It's never been THIS difficult!

"But I'm not being crazy about it," her hand came down to rest on his forearm. "I've only been with a couple of guys."

"Um... Ok... Well that's good."

In the silence that followed his mind screamed for him to do something.

Taking another steadying breath, he reached over with his free hand and rested it on the sheet covering her hip.

Her eyes closed and her fingers tensed on his forearm.

Ok, here I go, damn it! He thought.

"Do you enjoy it?" He asked, his own fingers squeezing at her through the sheet.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded slightly, her eyes opening.

"That's... um... That's good," he slid his hand upward, off the sheet, to cuff her side through the flimsy babydoll. He rubbed at her though the top, his fingers tensing.

"Daddy?" She exhaled softly.

"You're so pretty, you know that. So pretty, and so sexy." He continued massaging her side, his hand shifting back and forth, fingers lightly squeezing.

A quiet sigh slipped past her lips as her eyes closed again.

They remained like that for a minute, his hand caressing her through the top while she lay there, her breathing growing shallow. He could see her nipples starting to swell, the little buds growing under the soft blue of her babydoll and she brought her free hand up to kind of cover her mouth to further mute her quiet sighs.

"You ok, Sweetie?"

Without opening her eyes, she nodded meekly.

Gazing at her beautiful breasts under the soft blue top made him want to cup and fondle them . . . to take them in his hands and maul their pliant flesh. But he held himself in check . . . for the moment. Caressing her side for another minute he slowly slid his hand inward and slipped it under the loose flap of her top. As his fingers gently pressed at her tummy her abs quivered.

"Ooh," she sighed, her eyes opening, filled with a smoldering desire.

Again he lingered where he was, his hand on her tummy, fingers lightly pressing. He felt her abs quiver again and again and watched her nipples stiffen more, the little spires starting to poke at the flimsy top. Her own fingers tensed on his forearm, nails scratching lightly.

The dad in him suddenly wanted to know she was okay with what was happening . . . needed to make sure she was.

"You sure you're ok? If you want me to stop...," he let the sentence trail off. To clarify his point he slid his hand upward to the bottom swell of one breast.

"No. Don't. Don't stop." she breathed, her eyes closing again as her fingers gripped his forearm, holding it securely.

Her allowance of what was to come made his cock pulse excitedly. He spent a moment tracing the bottom edge of her breasts with his fingertips. Then he drew his hand out from under the top and slowly undid the ribbons holding it closed. Undoing the last one he let the top fall open, completely revealing his daughter's luscious 18-year-old breasts. They quivered ever so slightly with her labored breaths . . . firm . . . full . . . tantalizing orbs. Delicate mounds of soft flesh topped by swelling dark spires.

"So beautiful," he sighed appreciatively. He brought both hands up and gently caressed the twin mounds before cupping them and squeezing with his fingers.

"Ooh," she sighed, her head rolling back slightly as the hand that'd been on his arm dropped onto his thigh, her fingers scratching at his pajamas.

Holding her tits, his fingers squeezing gently, he swiped his thumb back and forth across her swollen nipples several times. He traced their edges . . . pressed at them. Then he slid his hands atop her mounds to flatten the engorged buds under his palms as his fingers molded and plied. Shifting his hands again he took each nipple between a thumb and forefinger to give it several tweaks, before cupping and manipulating her breasts some more. His attentions caused her nipples to harden into swollen little spikes of lust atop her milky mounds.

"Oh Daddy," Missy mewed.

This is so much hotter than that movie. So . . . much . . . hotter. He thought as his hands molested his daughter's breasts, fingers squeezing . . . molding. His cock throbbed eagerly within the confines of his clothing. He continued manipulating the beautiful mounds, hands and fingers caressing . . . squeezing . . . molding. He tweaked her nipples, gently one time, harder the next. He brushed his thumb across them again and again, his fingers fondling her breasts.

Missy's sighs were gradually turning into needy whimpers, the hand at her mouth muffling them slightly. Her other hand moved to his inner thigh and her scratching fingers stretched out toward his crotch.

After a few minutes he leaned down to bring his mouth just above one swollen nipple as he shifted his hand to hold the breast steady. Flicking his tongue out he swiped it across the bud.

"Ooh," she gasped.

He did this a few more times, eliciting more mews from her. Then he ran the tip of his tongue around the nipple's edge before dropping his mouth atop it, suckling lovingly.

"Oh Daddy," she whimpered, her back arching slightly, offering herself to him.

Squeezing and molding one tit, he suckled on the other, his tongue swirling over the nipple in his mouth. After a minute he switched to suckle at the other for a time. Then switched back. All the while his cock throbbed vigorously within his clothes, growing . . . stiffening.

Beneath him, Missy's body started to squirm and roll upon the bed, her whimpers being muffled by her hand. The other had managed to find the monster within his pajamas and she tried to wrap her tensing fingers around it.

Still he suckled and manipulated her luscious breasts, his hands and mouth loving the ample mounds for several minutes.

When he did pull away and straighten up he raised his gaze to her face. Her head had lulled to one side, but now she turned to meet his gaze from under heavy lids. Holding her gaze, he continued molesting one tit while reaching down to grab the sheet and throw it aside. Then he broke the eye contact to gaze at what he'd uncovered.

What he saw took his breath away.

Her legs were spread open slightly. Her panties matched the babydoll top, sheer and light blue, a dark spot near their center where her juices had started seeping into them. Through them he could easily see her sex with its thin layer of feathery hairs covering her labia, puffy with arousal. Between them her slit shimmered wetly.

"Oh, so beautiful," he groaned. Resting his hand on her inner thigh he slid it back and forth, caressing her flesh, his fingers pressing gently. Gradually his hand neared her crotch, his fingers slipping up to dance across the flesh of her inner thigh's hollow.

Her hips rolled upon the bed, lifting and shifting herself toward his hand.

He traced her flesh along the edge of her panties for a moment then slipped two fingers under that edge and to her sex. He pressed them into her slit, searching out her opening.

"Oh God," she whimpered, her hips jerking, lifting herself off the bed and to his touch.

"You're so wet, Sweetie," he breathed, rolling his fingertips through her juices.

"For you, Daddy," she whispered.

Oh fuck! His mind growled, his eyes shooting up to her face.

She was staring at him, eyes smoldered under heavy lids from behind her glasses. Her hand hovered near her mouth and one of her braids lay on the pillow next to her head while the other was draped across her chest above her breasts.

As he gazed at her, her words echoed in is mind and a thunderous lust surged through him, making his cock throb under her hand so angrily he feared it would rip through his clothing. In that moment one fingertip forced her walls apart and sunk into her to the second knuckle.

"Ooh Daddy," she mewed, her hips jerking again as her eyes closed.

"Oh, Baby," he moaned, his tone thick with lust for her . . . for his beautiful daughter. Pulling his fingers away, he brought his other hand down from the tit it'd been fondling, and grabbed the panties' waistband with both hands.

Missy brought her legs together and lifted her ass off the bed.

As he jerked the panties down her legs and off, he stood up and tossed them aside.

Freed, her legs fell open again, wider this time as she spread herself for him. Uncovered, her sex glistened wetly, her fine hairs dewy with her juices. Between her swollen labia her slit shimmered pink and inviting, her clit peeking out from under its hood at the top. Above her waist her abs quivered. And above them her breasts swayed gently upon her chest, the engorged nipples hard atop the luscious mounds. She was staring up at him from behind her glasses, watching his expression as he admired her beautiful body. The hand that'd been on his thigh now dangled over the edge of the bed while her other remained near her mouth.

"Daddy?"

He didn't know what was behind the questioning tone.

Nor did he care.

For there was only one answer that mattered to him.

His need to taste her . . . to taste her sweet, sweet nectar.

Climbing between her spread legs, he cuffed the hollows of her inner thighs, thumbs stretching out to pull her labia apart. Looking through the tops of his eyes he saw her watching him as he lowered his mouth near her sex, his senses filled by the sweet aroma of her arousal. Hovering an inch or so from her, he stuck out his tongue and dipped it into her slit at the bottom. Then he slowly drew it upward . . . brushing past her opening . . . swiping across her clit.

"Oh God, Daddy," she mewed, her eyes closing, her head rolling back.

Continuing to gaze up along her body, he licked her pussy again and again, swiping his tongue up and down along her slit, relishing the taste of her. During each trip he paused at her opening, massaging it, pressing at the center. And at every apex he lapped at her clit, making it swell and poke out from under its hood more and more.