Shy Away

January 18, 2015

My daughter is the most wonderfully shy girl you could ever meet. She is virtually mute around people and averts her eyes rather than look at anyone, even me. It’s been a constant from the time she was small. So imagine the shock I had when I realised that she was masturbating in the same room as me!


It all started when she came home early from her mother’s one weekend. Normally I get every other weekend to myself, but this weekend she arrived home having walked all the way after her mother had to go away urgently to see her sister. She was happy enough; her cheeks were rosy with the uphill walk. She had on a short white flared chiffon skirt with a white strappy vest top, with white cotton ankle socks. At fourteen her legs are slender and shapely and her shape up top was very modestly endowed.


We have two sofas in our living room. I was lying on the three-seater watching TV, while she was lying on the two-seater. We were both facing away from each other, and to be honest I couldn’t see her face, and would not even have known what was happening except that I could hear her. I didn’t know what it was at first. But then I heard what was the unmistakable sound of heavy breathing.


I peered over to her sofa. She was slunk down in the seat, her body laid down along the length. Her knees were raised up so her feet were flat on the seat. But in so doing, her white skirt had ridden up her thighs to bunch up at her hips. And barely visible, I could see her hand stuffed down the front of her white cotton panties.


I couldn’t believe it! Did she think I was asleep? Did she think I couldn’t hear? Or was she just so caught up in her own sensations that she forgot I was even there? Or even didn’t care that I was there! The last one excited me more than I knew it should have.


I’ve always found those first few years of sexuality really interesting. As girls develop into women their bodies seem to develop like fine porcelain. The childish shape morphs into a new and exciting female shape, not yet fully matured. Not woman, not child, but something beautiful in between. It’s not even just the fact that they discover themselves, but on a purely aesthetic basis I find the way they look so beautiful.


My daughter had that beautiful body. I had seen it many times as I checked on her as I went up to bed. You check less as they get older, but occasionally I would have to drape her covers over her as she slept naked in bed. And her body was slender, her legs were long, and her breasts were raised bumps to make small pyramids of flesh.


But now there was no mistaking. This was sexual.


Her breathing was rasping as I watched her fingers stroking up and down her female groove, gathering her own moisture, no doubt, and slicking it up to her clitoris. Then I could see that her fingers were concentrating on her clit as she stroked gently up and down, around and around.


I was painfully aware of my own arousal, now pressed hard into my pyjama trousers. I like to slog around the place in anything comfortable when it’s my time alone and I hadn’t bothered putting anything else on when she got home. I raised my knees so I could disguise the obvious tent had I now created. But as I looked back at my daughter I could see she was busy with other things.


I watched as she hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and quietly slipped them down, lifted her perfect bottom to allow them to slip effortlessly to her thighs, where they stopped. She’d obviously needed better access to herself. Her fingers slipped back to her bare pussy, and she began diddling her clit in ever quicker movements.


It was too much for me. I pulled up the elasticated waist on my pyjamas and released my raging hard-on. My fingers were instantly on it and I began to stroke in time with my daughter’s thrapping clit. She breathed sharply in with pleasure as I saw her hips gyrate slightly. She must have come! She stopped. So did I.


I didn’t want to make a sound, but my cock was throbbing to be touched. The only sound was the TV droning on in the background.


Then her fingers dipped down her pussy again and I could hear the slickness as she slipped her fingers deeper into herself. She stifled a moan. But I heard it. Then she slipped her slippery fingers up her wet pussy lips to her clit once again. I could see them glisten with her pussy juice! And we were off again. A little noisier. The wetness causing slopping sounds as her breathing shortened and she tried not to moan aloud. But her breathing was rapid, no mistaking that. She was totally wrapped up in her pleasure.


I was matching her. Her finger speed for mine. I could feel my own pleasure rising as I craned my head to watch my beautiful daughter pleasuring herself. Then her other hand reached up under her vest top, pushing it up as she grabbed hold of her tender young breast. She kneaded it, groping first one and then the other I could barely see. I could see her tweaking her undeveloped nipples, which were obviously sensitive, as she let out a breath which I hoped wouldn’t sign the end of her pleasure. But instead it seemed to heighten my little girl’s sensations, and her fingers at her pussy went into a blur of frenzied thrapping.


I was on the brink, fighting off the need to come so I could come with my daughter. But with every stroke it became harder. I looked back over to a beautiful sight. Her breathing was now like a panic attack, and as her back arched she let out a half sigh, half moan gasp of air as I saw her fingers splashed with squirted come! It was too much for me, as she took her fingers away and her squirts hit her panties half way up her thighs! I squirted my own come up my chest and stomach, and slumped.


We both lay there, just getting our breath back. Both frozen. Unable to move. She must have known I had heard her, or seen her even, I thought. Maybe it had just dawned on her and now my shy daughter was paralysed to move. Then I thought, what if she had heard me? Or seen me. Her own father masturbating in the same room as her! What if she realised I had seen her and that’s why I was masturbating? All these thoughts ran through my head, and yet my erection was still rampant.


Now thoughts of how to get out of the situation hit me. I was covered in come. And it would soon start running off me. I glanced over at my daughter. She was gently, as quietly as she could, putting herself right. Her vest top was back down, and she was pulling her soaking wet panties back up around her snug ass. Then her skirt was back in place and nothing had ever happened.


I noticed the T-shirt I had taken off earlier was draped over the back of the sofa. Thank God I hadn’t dropped it in the laundry. I reached up for it and barely grabbed it between my fingers. I pulled it over myself and soaked up my come. And I carefully put my still hard penis into my pyjama trousers. I still looked like a man who had just wanked off. But one of us had to make a move.


I got up quickly and went for the nearest door – the kitchen. As I tried to hide my excitement I glanced at my glorious daughter. Nothing was amiss. Like she’d just been watching TV. As though I had imagined the whole thing. But as I caught her eye I smiled at her, “Okay, honey?” She blushed deep red and turned back to the TV. “Fine, Daddy”, she said.


I made it into the kitchen and threw the T-shirt in the washing machine. I made a coffee to calm myself down. By the time I re-entered the living room she had gone. No doubt scampered upstairs to change. I heard the shower going.


I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I had just had a wanking session with my fourteen year old daughter! I checked her sofa, and there, as if too prove I hadn’t dreamed the whole thing, was a dark wet stain. I touched it, smelled it, and tried to taste it, but there was no taste other than upholstery.


I wandered up the stairs, just as she came out of the bathroom. She scurried away like a frightened rabbit. I went into the bathroom and found her clothes in the washing basket. Her panties were sodden. This time I got a taste of my own daughter’s pussy. It was the most sensual taste and smell I have ever come across. I had to have another wank right there in the bathroom. And she never got those panties back again!


The End.


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