Little Nympho Teenage Slut

Just a fun story I'm working on, I'll probably add more to it later. There are elements of non consent so if that's not your thing, move along. Everyone's over the age of 18, I don't really condone incest or rape or yada yada yada.

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Paul Gentry woke up to the sound of his phone ringing loudly on the nightstand. He reached over and saw his ex wife, Cindy's name. Well, not exactly her name, instead his phone told him that "get ready for fun," was calling, a sarcastically ominous warning to himself of what was ultimately to come should Cindy be on the other end of the line.

He ignored it, hitting silence and turning over. Only a half a minute had passed before it started ringing again, and his eyes shot awake as he listened to the phone jingling over and over again. Then it lapsed back into silence, and he sighed, turning over and closing his eyes once more.

Only when it began to ring for a third time did he bother picking up, with a groan, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, he grabbed the phone and answered it.

"Hello?" He asked, groggy and tired.

"Oh don't tell me you're still in bed, Paul, it's almost noon." Cindy snapped, and Paul rubbed his face.

"I make my own hours, I sleep when I want," Paul informed her for what might be the hundredth time, only to be met with her huffing and hissing. "What is it this time?"

"It- it's-" Cindy stuttered, enraged. "You know damn well what it is, Paul, it's Kristina!"

Paul stood up, climbing out of bed slowly and putting the phone on speaker as he walked into the bathroom.

"Alright, care to be a little bit more specific than that?" He asked, looking at himself in the mirror as he listened to his ex wife squeal with rage.

"It's the same thing, Paul, I keep catching her masturbating, she always wants to go out wearing barely anything at all. Dan caught her masturbating in the living room when he got home and you know what she did? She asked him to fuck her!"

Paul sighed, staring at the mirror.

"I'm sure that's not the case, Cindy, she just-"

"No Paul! No! Ever since the accident, she's become a filthy slut! We've raised her by god's word and now she's let the devil take hold-"

"Cindy would you shut the fuck up with that bullshit?" Paul yelled, taking a break to catch his breath while Cindy stayed silent. "The doctors said this happens every now and then. Head trauma like that can do weird things, she's not fucking possessed by the devil, she's a goddamn nymphomaniac. It's a psychological condition, now would you please stop-"

"Whatever, Paul, whatever. I'm kicking her out. I can't do this anymore!" Cindy sobbed, sniffling and crying. "You'd better be here in the morning, because this is her last night in my home. If you don't want your whore daughter roaming the streets, then she'll be staying with you!"

With that Cindy hung up.

Paul took a deep breath, splashing water on his face and standing up straight. He wasn't bad looking for 36, short, dark brown hair turning grey, he took decent care of himself and while he wasn't chiseled, he had a toned, muscular body.

He picked up the phone again and looked up the number for Beth, his assistant.

"Mr. Gentry's office this is-"

"Beth, it's Paul, look, I'm going to be out today, tomorrow as well. Think you can hold down the fort? Keep those fuck wits in line for me?"

Beth laughed, and Paul smiled, relishing the sound of actual happiness.

"Yes sir, I think I can handle it." She replied.

"Good, and don't let Mark or Shapiro slack on Greenfield, I want all their work emailed to me tonight, and tell them if everything isn't ready by next week, they're in deep shit."

"Yes sir, have fun on your, uh, sabbatical," Beth told him.

"Yeah, I'll try," he joked, then hung up.

It took some time for him to get ready, and by the time he'd showered, eaten, packed an overnight bag and pulled out of the driveway, the sun was already hanging low in the sky.

He drove a few hours in his red Oldsmobile convertible. It was his baby he'd spent years restoring, and getting the chance to take it on the open road was almost worth the hassle of seeing his ex wife.

Their history had been rocky for just about the entirety of his adult life. Teenage lovers, she'd gotten pregnant at a young age and married not long after. They raised their daughter for a few troublesome years as they quickly realized just how different they really were. He grew out of his church youth group phase, where they'd met, and she only grew more and more religious. Everything was an argument, and Cindy always took the self righteous road, turning every little thing into another attempt to save him.

But Paul never really bought into it, he didn't care. Cindy left him a couple years into their marriage and shortly remarried, taking full custody of their daughter much to his chagrin. She'd claimed they'd give her a better life, her new husband was the devout stick in the mud she'd always wanted, and the courts agreed.

While she was attending church functions and their marriage crumbled and their divorce was finalized, Paul's life took a more utilitarian route. He gotten a job at his father's construction company and got his GED and a bachelor's degree in business management in night school. He'd had to work his way up for years, his old man determined not to give him everything in life on a silver platter. About twelve years in his father had a heart attack and despite his constant threats of leaving the company to his coworkers or superiors, Paul found out after the funeral that he'd been his father's sole beneficiary the entire time.

Paul got on average two weeks a year with his daughter, the girl he'd barely recognize when she came to visit, and he'd spend all of his vacation days camping, travelling, and getting reacquainted with the girl he barely knew, and then she'd leave again.

But the ruse had worked, Paul was determined, and in the 6 years since his father's death, he'd turned a simple construction firm into the biggest development company in western Vermont.

And then the accident happened. She'd been with some friends, they'd been drinking, and next thing Paul knows, he's in a hospital room waiting for her to wake up. She was out for a full week, severe blunt trauma to the head, and he thought she was gone forever.

But she'd woken up, and after a few months of rehab, she was back to her normal self, except for one minor setback.

Her head injury had left her with an insatiable sexual appetite. She was masturbating through rehab, playing with herself anytime she thought she was alone. At first it had gone unnoticed, but when she'd finally been caught and confronted and explained what was going on, Paul found out that this sort of thing wasn't exactly impossible so much as it was extremely rare. There were only a couple of other documented cases in history, his daughter was a medical phenomenon.

Cindy and Dan thought they could handle it, they'd rushed Paul home and out of their lives once more. But that's when the phone calls started, Cindy calling him hysterically sobbing about her poor little girl being afflicted, then her sweet daughter giving into temptation, then her lustful child lured into the Devil's trap, and now she was threatening to kick the whore out into the streets for good.

In his mind, Paul knew this day was coming. Cindy could probably count on her fingers the amount of time her and Dan had fucked, Paul imagined she'd bragged about it in church. Having a nympho for a daughter wasn't exactly the plan she'd expected god to have in store for her. Kristina had turned 18 in rehab, and Paul had an inkling Cindy wouldn't keep her around for long.

So here he was, a couple hours away, getting drunk in a hotel room while he yelled at his employees over the phone.

"I don't care what Browning says, get the god damn environmental surveys done over the weekend, I want the plans finished up and ready to present to zoning by next Wednesday." Paul huffed, throwing back a bottle of irish whiskey, then tossing it on the bed.

"Yeah, but-" Sharpiro butt in, and Paul growled.

"No buts! I know you guys have a lot on your plate, but you'll figure it out or else I'll give the entire project to Hastings. Got it?" He threatened, hearing Mark and Shapiro grunt in agreement, and then he took a deep breath and calmed down a little bit.

"Good, you guys can handle this, I wouldn't have put you in charge if I wasn't sure of it. Get your shit together and have it ready by next week, and if everything goes smoothly, we'll all go to Vegas or Mexico or something for the weekend, my treat, ok?"

"OK!" They both shot back in unison, and Paul hung up, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and tossing it back.

*********************************

The next morning he woke up early and set out again, putting the hood down to enjoy the summer air as he drove the remaining hour or two to Cindy and Dan's beautiful temple of sanctity.

He pulled up and got out, knocking on the door, and he was met with footsteps and Cindy's beautiful face smiling her fakest, most ostentatious smile. She was still incredibly gorgeous, blonde hair and round curves, big oversized tits she always managed to cover yet still show off, and a nice little ass that was easily shown off in almost any outfit she chose.

"Paul, come in, come in," she beamed, ushering him inside, and Paul walked inside slowly.

Everything was white and from another time, crucifixes and paintings, photographs of a once happy family. Scented candles, the smell of cleaner, it all out Paul on edge, it all brought back haunting memories of their short, tumultuous marriage.

In the living room Dan was seated in his large recliner, staring up at Paul as he entered.

"Paul," Dan greeted him with a warm smile, standing up and towering over him, "how was the drive?"

"Oh, you know, a drive," Paul shrugged, sticking out his hand and letting Dan practically crush it. Paul, by no means, was a short man, but Dan stood at nearly 6' 6". Paul assumed he was supposed to be intimidated, but he never let Dan's stature scare him. Dan had likely never been in a fight in his entire life, and he was a teddy bear compared to his lioness of a wife.

Then Paul saw Kristina, sitting on the couch, hunched over, arms crossed. She was looking away, blushing, trying to avoid him, and Paul's heart sank a little bit.

"Is that any way to greet your old man?" He asked, and Kristina looked up, biting her lip.

"Hi daddy," she whimpered, and Paul smacked her arm playfully, pulling her up onto her feet, putting his hands on her shoulders and smiling as he looked her up and down.

She had bright green eyes and dirty blonde hair, short bangs in front and a little button nose and rosy cheeks. She broke into a smile, wrapping her arms around his hips and burying her face in his hands as he pat her back.

"Alright, let me get your bags, I want to get on the road as soon as possible," Paul smiled, feeling her cling to him a little harder and longer than normal. She pulled back, smiling, and nodded, walking away in her long flower skirt and baggy sweater.

Paul turned to Cindy while Kristina was out of the room and she frowned, shaking her head.

"I just don't know what to do with her anymore, Paul, she's let the devil-"

"Cindy," Paul cut her off, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "it's a fucking medical condition, not the devil."

Cindy opened her mouth to argue but Dan shushed her. He walked over to Paul, towering over him.

"We appreciate you doing this, Paul, we seem to be at our wits end with how to deal with this," Dan confided, then Kristina came back into the room.

"All ready?" Paul asked, grabbing her bags, and she nodded, turning to Cindy and Dan to say their goodbyes while Paul walked her bags to his car.

He tossed them in the tiny back seat and soon she was hurrying out to the car, hopping into the passenger seat and smiling as he pulled out.

"Fuck," Paul groaned, pulling out a cigarette from his hidden stash and lighting it at a stop light. "How you've survived in that house for 18 years is beyond me."

"Daddy! I didn't know you smoked!" Kristina huffed, watching him drag on the cigarette, and he smiled.

"Not every day, only when I'm really stressed out, and, well, seeing your mother, that's about as stressful as it gets for me," He laughed, handing her the cigarette. "Here, a drag won't kill you."

Kristina took the cigarette in her fingers and held it up to her lips, inhaling gingerly and then coughing, her face turning red.

"Relax, relax, you gotta take little puffs, but fuck it," he laughed, plucking the cigarette from her, "What kind of father am I, anyways, letting you smoke? Shit."

Kristina giggled and blushed, crossing her arms and turning away from him.

"How you doin, princess? I bet you're pretty worked up, huh?" Paul asked, putting his hand on her leg, and she grabbed him and held his fingers in her hands, clasping him tightly.

"Yeah, I- I'm just, I don't know, I'm confused," She stammered, and Paul smiled.

Kristina had never been the brightest girl. She'd made alright grades, always did decent in school, but she was no genius. Hell, Paul had almost flunked out of highschool himself, he only got through college by studying for hours and hours on end, he figured book smarts didn't exactly run in the family. But she'd lost a little something in the crash, and she was always stuttering and searching for words.

"That's ok, I'm a little confused myself on why you're wearing that thick ass sweater when it's so hot," Paul joked, and Kristina blushed again.

"Mommy says I need to cover up, because of my, well, I'm-" Kristina stammered, and Paul rolled his eyes.

"Because you inherited your mother's rack? Fuck, she's always showing herself off," Paul laughed, but Kristina shook her head.

"No, usually only when you come around," Kristina replied, and now it was his turn to be a little dumbstruck. Paul blushed, smiling a little, then shook himself out of it.

"Ok, ok, fair enough," Paul laughed. "Well you're not living with your mother anymore, you're living with me, so you can relax a little, I don't think you have anything to be ashamed of."

Kristina smiled, then unbuckled her seatbelt, slipping her sweater off and tossing it in the back seat, and that's when Paul saw them.

It was a rare occasion for him to get a glimpse of his daughter's tits, and here they were, bouncing for him in a white tank top. They were at least DD's, maybe even F's, just amazing in how round, large, and perky they were.

Paul gulped, trying not to stare, and she sat back, strapping in her seatbelt and grabbing his hand.

"You thirsty?" Paul asked, and Kristina nodded. "Let's stop before we hit the highway, grab some drinks and snacks."

"Oh, but can I change out of this skirt first?" She asked.

"Sure, why not," Paul laughed, and she dug through her bag in the back, pulling out some short gym shorts.

Paul watched in utter shock as she pulled her skirt down. He'd figured she would just slip the shorts on and then take the skirt off, but she had other ideas in mind. She shimmied the skirt down, exposing her white, lacey panties, and then turned to him and blushed.

"You're not supposed to watch!" She giggled, smiling at him and making no effort to hurry the process along.

"I, uh, well," Paul stammered, looking up to see a big SUV next to them, an older gentleman in the driver's seat staring down at her in shock, a teenage boy in the back who's eyes were practically popping out of their sockets. "OK, ok, just get dressed, sheesh."

Kristina giggled and pulled her shorts on, and Paul pulled into the next gas station he saw.

He filled up the tank while Kristina bounced inside. He watched her smile and stare at every guy that approached, and as he walked inside he saw her slip into the girl's bathroom.

He picked out a couple drinks, bought her some candies he figured she'd like, then rang them up. It took about 5 or 10 minutes but in that time she was still in the bathroom.

Paul walked up to the door, a line of pissed off women forming outside.

"Kristina," He pounded, getting impatient after a minute or two. "You alright in there?"

"Yeah, daddy," She called, then the door unlatched and she popped out, smiling, but flushed. Her forehead was sweaty and her chest was red. Paul checked inside to make sure she'd been alone, and she had, but he knew what she'd been doing.

"Can we put the top up?" She asked as they walked toward the car. "I'm a little tired of having to yell over the wind."

"Sure thing, princess," Paul smiled, doing as she asked, then they got inside and sped off.

There was a long, drawn out moment of silence before Paul turned to her, looking her up and down.

"You were touching yourself in the bathroom, weren't you?" He asked, and she blushed, turning away and biting her lip.

"It's ok, I'm not your mom, you can talk to me about what's going on." He told her, and she nodded.

"Yes, I was," She whimpered, slowly curling up in a little ball.

"Look, princess, what's going on in your head, your sex drive, it's a medical condition, ok? You don't have to be ashamed about it, you can be honest and open with me, I mean, there's really no way we can just ignore it, right?" He asked, smiling, and he pet her leg, feeling her spread them, hearing her sigh a little, her breath quickening.

"Thank you, daddy," She whispered.

"You're welcome. Is it all the time?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"No, not all the time, but just about. Sometimes I don't think about it, but then it catches me off guard, and I think about it even more." She answered, looking away.

"Are you thinking about it now?" He asked, and she looked up at him, nodding and whimpering a little bit.

"Yeah," She replied, biting her fingernails on one hand and rubbing her stomach with the other.

"Oh," Paul said, a little bit in shock, turning away. "Ok."

They rode on in silence for sometime, and then Paul turned to Kristina and saw tears running down her face.

"Aw, princess, what is it?" He asked, rubbing her leg.

"Can we pull over? Can we stop at another gas station?" She huffed, and Paul looked for a sign but they'd hit the stretch of highway that would be barren for at least another forty five minutes.

"Aw, no, baby, there won't be one for a while. Why?"

Kristina reached into the back and grabbed her sweater, stuffing it in her lap and hiding one of her hands.

"I'm sorry, daddy!" She squealed, then her jaw dropped and she started to groan, arching her back.

"Uh, well, it's, uh, it's ok, princess," Paul told her, rubbing her leg gently as he listened to the sounds of her thrusting her fingers inside her pussy, the wet noises of her fucking herself.

"Oh! Oh!" She gasped, her eyes shooting wide open and staring at him. "Oh! Oh god!" She whimpered, then squealed, groaning as she climaxed, then she slumped back.

They sat in silence, and Paul could smell her pussy juices lingering in the air. She had a sweet fragrance, and his cock grew hard just thinking about her, but he shook it out of his head.

"Thank you, Daddy," She whispered, leaning over the center console and wrapping her arms around his right arm, nuzzling her face against his shoulder.

"It's ok, Princess," Paul told her, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself.

"Mommy gets so mad at me, she'd have freaked out," she whimpered, and Paul laughed a little.

"Yeah, well, you're mom is kind of full of shit," Paul smiled, and Kristina frowned, looking away.

"No, she's right, the lord looks down on this kind of behavior, I'm nothing but a- a- a whore!" Kristina whimpered, sobbing and sniffling, breaking away from Paul.

"No, no, baby, don't tell me you believe all that crap. It's a medical condition, you can't help it," He told her, rubbing her back, and slowly, she calmed down.