Sweet Sixteen

July 12, 2015

 

We travelled first class. It was a three hour journey so I wanted peace and quiet and some comfort. As the lush green countryside rushed past in a blur of dazzled sunlight I looked up from my laptop at my daughter’s face. She was staring absently out of the window, the sunlight dancing across her pretty features. Sixteen! How did she get to be sixteen? It seemed like yesterday she could fit in the palm of my hand, just five pounds and twelve ounces. Now that tiny baby was sitting across the table, daydreaming. She had a lovely figure. Over the past year, in particular, her breasts and bottom had rounded out into a fine shape, and her long athletic legs were taut and slender. Her hair was a coppery red and her features were delicate like the Russian name I had given her.

 

Tamara, or Tammy, as she liked to be called, was the very picture of sixteen year old beauty. Sometimes I struggled to believe she was my daughter, she was so beautiful. I also had a problem being around her sometimes because she was oblivious to me as a man. She paid almost no mind to what she wore, or didn’t wear, around the house. Frequently she would come into my room in just her underwear, or sometimes in just a towel, which I prayed would fall, and sometimes it did, and she would sit on my bed talking to me with her beautifully shaped breasts teasing me as she made no effort to cover up. I would try to hide my excitement as Major Tom stood to attention and saluted my delectable sweetheart.

 

Today was her sixteenth birthday present: A trip to London to see Les Miserables on the West End stage. She had seen the film but was dying to see the West End production. And through one thing and another I had never taken her to London until this point. I had booked us into a four star hotel and once we got to London we caught one of those London Black Cabs to the hotel. It was fabulous as we walked into the foyer: Marble floors and surfaces with heavy old oak doors with brass fittings. I walked over to the check in desk and a smiling face greeted me. I knew she couldn’t be from London because the smile was too genuine.

 

“Hello, sir. How may I help you?” She enunciated in her best English with her light Eastern European accent.

I handed her my reservation, “I’ve booked a twin room for two nights”.

 

She took the reservation and read it. She tapped several things into the computer. Then she turned to her colleague next to her, another pleasant looking young woman, and they swapped several exchanges in their native tongue. I guessed Polish, but it could equally have been Bulgarian, Hungarian or Ukrainian.

 

“I am sorry, Mister Edwards, there seems to have been a mix up with your reservation.”

“Mix up? What mix up? You do have a room booked for me, don’t you?”

“Yes, we do,” she said apologetically, “but we have only a double room”.

“Well, can we change it? I mean, is there a problem?” I said.

“I am sorry, Mister Edwards, but we are fully booked. We only have this room available now.”

 

I wasn’t happy. I explained that I was travelling with my daughter and it was hardly appropriate to have her sleep in the same bed as me. They apologised, and they completely refunded one of our two nights in recompense, but we were stuck with the one room, and one bed.

 

I turned and walked over to my expectant young daughter, but she just shrugged, “Okay”, and that was that. The room was fine, and we settled in before heading out to Oxford Street – where all the shops are. Tammy was in High Street Heaven and I was in Hell. I’ve never liked shopping. I shop when I need something, and it’s a quick into the shop “that’ll do” and back out. This was wall to wall, floor upon floor, of pure commercialism. Yuk!

 

We returned to the hotel with bags from all the shops she loved. Then we both took a bath in the cute three quarter sized bath and when I came out she was dressed already. She looked amazing in her little black dress. Every curve was shown to its best advantage, and of course, her thighs emerged from beneath the mini skirt with such silky smoothness I felt a twitch in much groin instantly, knowing I was growing inside my pants. Somehow I managed to stifle the stiffy (I usually use mental arithmetic to do this) and she didn’t seem to notice, even when she gave me a firm hug in thanks for bringing her to London.

 

We arrived at the theatre in plenty of time; another taxi ride costing the Earth. We had drinks at the bar – a soft drink for her, of course – and then we took our seats. We were at the end of the row on the left hand side. Tammy chose to sit right on the end as it gave her a better view between the people in front. The lights dimmed in the packed auditorium and the show began. I’m not the biggest fan of musicals, but Tammy was in her element. She grabbed my hand and held it on her lap for the first half of the show, only letting go when the lights came up at the interval.

 

A couple of overpriced ice creams and some drinks later and we were back in our seats as the lights dimmed. I rested my hand on Tammy’s leg in readiness of her taking hold of it. But she grabbed my wrist, not my hand, and as she dragged it toward her my open palm glided over her bare skin and my fingers fell between her silken thighs. I didn’t look, but I knew that I was close to her tiny teenage crotch. Blood stirred through my swelling member and I shuffled awkwardly in my seat to help hide my excitement from the woman sitting next to me. Thankfully, the show was back in full swing. I couldn’t believe my daughter hadn’t moved my hand. But then, I didn’t try to remove my hand either.

 

And there we stayed as song after song played stirringly across the whirling stage. Except, maybe it was my imagination, but I felt I was somehow getting closer up between those thighs, until my suspicions were confirmed as my little finger wriggled free of vice like thighs and wiggled about in that delicious space between thighs and crotch. It was then I brush her panties. Not white cotton panties I expected, not even the slutty leopard print ones she knew I hate but her mother had bought her. No, these were lacy; sheer, thin, lace that barely covered anything at all and left little or nothing to the imagination, even though all I was looking with was the tip of my little finger.

 

I didn’t imagine it when she held my hand closer still, pressing a second finger up against her laced up kitty. I felt her press her crotch to fingers. No mistake.

 

I could barely breathe and I daren’t move. My mind hoped to God no one was looking, but no one was. At these prices everyone was glued to the show, including my daughter. I managed a sly glance out of the corner of my eye and saw her beautiful grey/green eyes absolutely welded to the stage.

 

But there was no mistaking that she was pulling my hand up between her silken thighs, opening them slightly for access. My mind imagined those lace panties peeking from under her short black dress. White, no, she would be too conscious of that; black, to hide surreptitiously under that oh so small dress. I wondered fleetingly if her bra was matching, cupping her perfect little breasts in dainty, sultry, sexy black lace, untouched nipples forming below and poking tantalisingly through the material.

 

As I looked back at the stage I could see the actors swarming all over it; virulent young men with poise and powerful voices. It must be they had got my little sweet sixteen all hot and bothered, I thought. But there was no lying in her little pussy pushing onto my fingers. I could feel her warmth; her coarse down scratching on her lace panties; and finally I felt the unmistakable feel of moisture upon my finger tips. My sixteen year old daughter was juicing up on my fingers and there was nothing I could do about the blood rushing through my mushrooming erection. I was all too aware that in my suit trousers I appeared to have stuffed an extra leg into my left trouser leg. I tried to ignore it, but how do you ignore something throbbing like a heartbeat?

 

Tammy pressed ever harder to my fingers, now holding my wrist and clamping her sweet smooth thighs around them. I tickled my fingers a little and my mesmerized cherub let out the quietest moan as she held me tight to her seeping crotch. I did it again, this time not stopping, but building up a little imperceptible wiggle that was just enough. I felt her squeeze her thighs even tighter and then, with a deep long slow exhale, she relaxed. Her thighs loosened their vice lice grip and she gently pushed my hand away. I was in heaven and hell at once. My sweet young daughter had used my hand to bring her to orgasm in a packed theatre, and my penis was straining hard against my tight suit trousers. Luckily, the lady next to me didn’t seem notice.

It wasn’t long before the show finished with not a dry eye in the house, including the winking one in my trousers. Tammy was elated, overcome by the spectacle of it all, the crowds, and the merchandise we bought on the way out. We got a cab back to the hotel; another one of those roomy black cabs: She said it all didn’t feel real, like we were on some huge ride in a theme park called London.

 

She looked amazing as we rode back to the hotel and she couched herself into my side, my arm upon her bare shoulder. We didn’t speak on the way back. The cab driver was chatty, and Tammy just smiled coyly whenever I caught her eye. We arrived back at the hotel (the cab ride making me some twenty pounds poorer) and we went up to the room. The elevator ride up to the room was silent and I wondered if she was just quiet or was she regretting her earlier actions.

 

When we entered the room she retired to the bathroom. I took this time to undress, leaving on only my shorts. I never wear pyjamas, and usually sleep naked, but this was my concession. I changed the lights to dim lamps and switched the TV on to break the uncomfortable silence and the spectre of the looming double bed. When Tamara emerged from the bathroom she was dressed in a short white satin nightdress which danced about her perfectly taut thighs. The halter neck was enough to hint her cleavage and it showed her pert little breasts perfectly, even her conical nipples were showing through. As she stood coyly at the bottom of the bed I’m sure she was unaware the bathroom light backlit her beautiful body as though she were completely naked before me. Every delicate curve, every bump, and even the darker down in her soft v between her legs was caught and shown to me as clearly as ever I could have imagined.

 

I smiled what I hoped was a disarming smile and threw the covers gently back for her to get into her side of the bed. She smiled a thank you and came to the uncovered bedside. I couldn’t take my eyes off her perfect form, and as she got into bed I was given the greatest view of her bare thighs as her shift slipped up her legs almost giving me a view between her legs. She pulled the covers back over her.

 

There was nothing much on television except for an old film I remembered being quite good. Tamara leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.” I smiled at her and she slunk down into the bed and turned over. I wondered if her shift had ridden high as she slunk down. Was it now around her waist instead? I was answered when she put an arm under the covers to put things right and then the arm emerged again. She had such slender arms and dainty little feminine hands, delicate fingers, long and fine. The film droned on, and even though it was a good film I felt my drowsiness overcoming me. I clicked the TV remote off and fell soundly into the land of nod.

 

I awoke some time in darkness. I was instantly aware of two things. I had an enormous erection throbbing from my crotch. And it was pushing insistently into my daughter’s satin clad backside. I froze! How long had I been like this? Could I risk moving or would I wake her?

 

I was answered rather unexpectedly when Tammy shifted position. Her top leg pushed forward allowing my insistent member to push below her peachy young bottom and nestle along her natural groove. I could barely breathe as I felt the next unexpected sensation – her delicate fingers unmistakably touching my length.

 

She felt along, tracing its thinly cottoned outline from base to swollen glans. Circling its end with her fingertips she then felt down again, taking firm hold of me in her hand. I wondered if she was asleep and acting this out in her dream. Maybe I had held her too close in my sleep and now she was seeing what was so firmly pressing into her backside? But she was sixteen, and though innocent in terms of her peers, she knew what it was right enough.

 

She then pushed it up firmly to her girlish groove and unexpectedly I felt her fingertips intricately explore the underside of me. I had one hand over her, resting on what I felt was the soft, yet firm swell of her pert young breast. I felt her warmth through her nightshirt and involuntarily squeezed it gently. I heard her breathe in sharply, her breath becoming shallow. Her fingers now were searching, looking for something she soon found. She found the button on my shorts and upon unpicking it my firm rod of flesh sprang free and slapped hard pressed between her softest globes. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, and I couldn’t help but think my little innocent was not so innocent after all. This proved to be the case as she played her fingertips up and around my length, carefully caressing my swollen helmet. I squeezed her breast again, and she let out a small gasp. Her grasp upon me tightened. I gently kissed the back of her neck.

 

“Daddy?” she whispered, still holding me in her palm.

 

I didn’t answer, but kissed the nape of her neck. Little kisses in those little places I know that women like; below and behind her ear. She gently started massaging my pulsing manhood and I traced her nipple through her satin shift. I felt her cup my cock and press it firmly to her groove. I was pressed to softest velvet, exciting me further; her opening peach wet with her own excitement, glossing my swollen head with its slippery sheen. But I held back.

 

“I want to, Daddy” she said in a husky low voice I had never heard from her before. It was rough, common and sexy, filled with nervousness, fear and lust.

“Are you sure?” I whispered into her ear.

She nodded, “Yes.” She said.

I kissed her ear, letting my tongue gently caress her earlobe.

“Okay, then, Sweetheart. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” she gasped as I massaged her breast purposefully.

 

It was then I felt her press my head into her warm wet hole. It was so delightful! So warm! So wet! So tight around me! I was in that little piece of heaven between my daughter’s legs and it filled me with excitement that pulsed from the tip of my cock down through my shaft, through my stem and ball-sack and up through arsehole to a point deep inside my arse. It throbbed like a heartbeat. The surface of my skin became sensitive as I let my hand caress over her satin shift, down to where I found it gathered at her waist. Her hip was shapely and naked to my touch, and I felt down over her exposed globe and up one slender steady thigh.

 

She adjusted slightly so I entered her further, and I took the hint to start my miniature movements in and out of my daughter’s juice. It coated me further with each motion, and with firm but gentle persuasion I insisted my cock deeper into her slick insides. She bent further forward, trying to get me deeper quicker, her own motions starting to meet mine. It was then I reached something I wasn’t sure I really would. I felt the resistance of her virgin hymen upon the head of my manhood.

 

“You’re a virgin” I said, not realizing the paradox of what I was saying.

“Not really” she said.

“Are sure you want me to…”

“Yes, Daddy,” she gasped, “Please, Daddy.” She said insistently. “Fuck me.”

 

Hearing my gorgeous daughter’s husky plea dissolved my indecision. I moved forward, my hips thrust into her, my member driving deeper into her, through her maidenhood and into the woman inside. She stiffened up and I stopped deep, deep inside her, immersed to the hilt of my shaft.

 

“Okay?” I asked, concerned.

“I’m okay,” she breathed.

 

I leaned close and kissed her spine between her shoulder blades. She moaned lowly, and I returned to my gentle movements, in and out of my daughter’s succulent pussy. She clenched her pussy walls and held me tight. I stopped.

 

“Don’t stop,” she said, “it feels good”.

 

That was my green flag, my invitation, my validation. I held her hip and started to thrust in and out, long, slow, deep thrusts. Her teenage tunnel was tight and its slick fleshy walls would grip and relent, making my cock throb with extra excitement. I built up the rhythm of a lucky, lucky man, fucking his own willing daughter as she revelled on her first cock. She gasped and matched me every thrust, my pubis bumping into her shapely rounded arse cheeks. I heard my daughter’s excitement rising, her breathing was short and she was making soft high pitched whines that just made my own pleasure multiply.

 

“Oh!” she whinnied.

 

I pumped her faster, picking up the pace and slamming my cock into her cunt as she mewed like a breeding kitty. But my little sex kitten wasn’t done yet.

 

“You gonna come?” I gasped.

 

She nodded her head, a piercing whine escaping her lips into the bed-sheets, “Yes!”

It was all I needed to hear as I began fucking her like a hound in heat: Animal thrusts pounding her pussy. I could feel my climax coming, my balls tightening and my glans so excruciatingly pleasurable – And suddenly I was coming! Pumping her pussy full of cock jam! I felt her grip my rod and wash it with gushes of her pungent pussy juice!

 

I collapsed, still inside my daughter’s swimming pool of cum.

 

I slowly pulled from her sopping quim; the air bathing it as I tossed the covers from my body. Tamara hadn’t moved, and I wondered did she regret our actions. But she too tossed the covers off her hot young body and turned onto her back to regain her breath. I looked over her beautiful young body, still half naked. One leg raised and one flat, her sparse darker triangle adorning her sweet V. The folds of white satin creased upon her flat stomach. It fell close to her slim torso and up over her pointed swollen chest with its bullet points, for emphasis. Her long slender neck, with her finely boned jaw and high cheek bones; eye lashes caught by the half-light from the bathroom; her coppery hair fallen back from her face. Her sweet full pouting lips still breathing heavy, her breasts heaving up and down with her recovery.

 

She turned to look at me. I could see only one eye, catching light and reflecting it. I smiled at her. And I could see her smile back.

 

“Thank you” she said in a clear voice tinged with embarrassment.

“Thank you” I said, “I think we both needed that”.

 

She nodded.

 

“Well,” I said, “seems like false modesty keeping these on now.” And I pulled my shorts down and off my legs, tossing them aside. Tamara looked down, seeing my penis still standing to attention.

“It’s still hard” she said.

Sure enough, it was.

“Little secret you don’t know about me,” I smiled, “I stay hard”.

“Isn’t it supposed to go down after you come?”

“That’s what they say, but it never has with me. It’s about the only thing your mother loved about me, on the rare occasions she actually wanted sex.”

“Ew, Dad!”

I laughed.

 

She reached down and touched it.

 

“It’s sticky!” she blurted.

“Well, it’s been inside your wet pussy! What do you expect?” I said.

I heard her gasp in shock, “Daddy!”

“You could clean it, you know.” I said.

“Clean it?”

“Yeah… think about it.”

There was silence as she thought about it. You could never accuse her of being quick. “Daddy! Ew!” She blurted.

I laughed, “You know, you might even like it”.

“I don’t think so.” She said, but her fingers were still sticking to my cock as she fingered it.

 

I let the moment sink in, the idea percolating in her little head. Then without a word she sat up and knelt over my totem pole. I watched as her half-lit half-silhouetted figure leaned down, her pitch black lips opening to kiss the end of my sticky man. I felt her tongue touch the eye of my cockhead, circling around and around in bigger and wider circles until my head was in her mouth and her soft wet muscle was rimming my helmet, exciting my glans over and over. I wanted to ask if she had done this before, but I didn’t want her to stop to answer.

 

I put a guiding hand upon her head coaching her down my shaft, taking more and more of me into her young and eager mouth. My other hand smoothed down her back to her satin clad bottom. I found the hem and snaked up underneath, feeling over her silky skin – shapely rounded firm young cheeks. She obviously liked it because she leaned over further, allowing me to reach her soft young pussy.

 

I savoured it – slowly exploring that space where thigh meets pussy, her downy cheeks, sparse wisps of soft wire tickling the tiny hairs on the backs of my fingers. Reaching under, and my daughter now making it so easy for me, I coursed through between her legs to her girly garden: Its lawn sparse but not mown. She hadn’t yet succumbed to that fashion, but for how long? I wondered. My fingertips ambled leisurely through, tickling and exciting her as she excited me. And I heard a moan escape her pouting lips, vibrating around my cock.

 

I trailed down to that delta of flesh, her man-in-the-boat cheekily standing proud. She flinched and gasped as I touched her there, teasing her bean out further from its hood. But then I separated my two remaining fingers and trailed down through her velveteen folds until I reached her seeping lips. Her own lips were slinked up and down my pole and I was right, she did like it.

 

I couldn’t stand it any longer and I pulled her toward me. She understood instantly, and for a virgin I was impressed as she cocked her leg and straddled my face. She lowered her succulent lips to my eager lips and tongue. She was sweet and tangy, fresh and clean, like her youth dictated. My tongue tasted its way through moist puffy cheeks and occasional curls to the softest tastiest forbidden fruit a man can taste – his own daughter’s lucid hole.

 

My tongue circled her hole and she whined with pleasure. It wasn’t enough though and she pressed her peach down onto my mouth, trying to force my tongue inside her. It worked. I started thrusting my tongue as far into her lucid hole as I could, tongue fucking her! Tasting not juice her juice now, but mine too!

 

“Uh!” she gasped, her mouth releasing me.

 

I kept going. But I knew this was no way to get her off. I lifted her slightly and pulled her up a little so my tongue tip could torture her clit. She shrieked when I touched it, but tried to grind it into my face. I held her in place and did my trick. I flicked my tongue over her bean side to side as quick as I could. I thought she was going to scream the place down as she squealed like a piglet then let out a long guttural moan, more like a grow,l in truth. But I kept going for her. She’s my baby, after all.

 

I could feel her body shuddering: Her thighs shaking either side of my head and her stomach dipping and rising as she tried to breathe and cope with her building pleasure.

 

“Uh! Daddy! Yes!”  she gasped. I circled her engorged clit. “Don’t stop!” she blurted.

 

I went back to the sideways flicking and was instantly rewarded with a definite squirt of nectar. My daughter was a squirter! I was so turned on! Gripping her gorgeous globes, I pulled her down to me and flicked her bean like my tongue was on fire. She exploded!!! Juices gushed into my mouth, tangier, more pungent than before, like strong peach tea.  I swallowed, but kept on flicking. She was shrieking like she was having a laughing fit. Squirt after squirt hit the back of my throat. I gulped! Juices splashed all over my face and Tamara shook so hard her whole body started to spasm!

 

“Uh! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Uuuuuuuuuhmmmmmmm!” she died down, still spasming on me. I flicked her bean one more time and she recoiled, rolling off me. “No more!” she gasped. “It’s too much. It’s too nice.”

 

She lay next to me, inversed. I watched her body convulsing as the mini-orgasms still rocked through her.

 

“Never done that before, then?” I asked.

She shook her head, “Never done anything before”.

 

I smiled. I was so honoured to be my little girl’s first lover. But there was a problem.

 

I waited for her spasms to die down, her breathing to return to normal. Then I said, “You know, I still have a big problem: One which you made rather worse.”

“What?”

I pointed down at my aching erection still aiming for the stars. She giggled.

“Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”

“I noticed” I said.

“Won’t it just go down on its own?”

“It would eventually,” I said, “but I’m starting to get Blue Balls.”

She leaned up on one arm, her hair was damp; some matted to her sweat beaded brow.

“I thought that was rubbish made up by boys to get you to let them fuck you.”

“It’s also true. A guy’s balls will really hurt if he’s aroused for too long without coming.”

“But didn’t you…?”

“The first time; yes. Not just now, though.”

 

She looked at it – my monolith. She smiled and reached out and touched it again. Much as I enjoyed her touch, I was starting to really need more. I took her hand away and sat up next to her. I looked into her pretty face and touched her feline features. I leaned down and kissed her on the lips. She has the most beautiful lips, full and pouting, and I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, sending tingles through my awesome daughter. I let her go, but followed up with another kiss. This time she joined in and I let my tongue just touch her lips. She caught on and next time I felt her tongue touch mine. And pretty soon we were French kissing. She’d never done this either, I could tell.

 

My hand went to her waist and I started to pull up her satin nightshirt. She sat up and as I lifted it up she raised her arms like she was six, not sixteen. But seeing her naked the first time in maybe six years was a pleasure on the senses. She looked as good as sixteen looks. Better. Her little frame was perfectly formed: Shapely, every curve an asset; small, but beautifully formed breasts with conical nipples still screaming her youth; a darker V of pubic hair announcing her readiness for cock. She smelled of sex and she still had willingness in her eyes.

 

“I want fuck you, Tammy.” I said, “I really want fuck you so much right now.”

 

She giggled, a little embarrassed girl. She even covered her breasts with her arms. I moved her arms away.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re so beautiful.”

“Just feels weird you saying that. Looking at me like that.”

“After what we’ve done already?”

She laughed again, embarrassed again.

 

I caressed her waist and leaned down to kiss her again. She was a girl of action, not words. She took to kissing like an angel and pretty soon she was breathless again. She surprised me then. Deep in kissing she wrapped her arms around my neck, lifted up and wrapped first one and then her other leg right around me, pressing her pussy tight up against my cock, pressing it to my stomach. I held onto her butt cheeks as I rolled her up my rock hard hurting cock. I was just about there when I reached underneath. She loosened her grip and with my hand underneath and hers now down between us we both manoeuvred my cock to her cunt, father and daughter, and I entered her once more.

 

I went in easily, and Tammy began rocking, bouncing on my pole, sending it deep inside her, filling her up. She was so small, so tight, but so wet and so willing. What she didn’t have in experience she made up for with enthusiasm. I was even quite amused by her performance, but it wasn’t fast enough for me, and if she was anything like her mother had been she didn’t have the stamina to go for long.

 

I lifted her up and then lay her on her back, with me still balls deep in my daughter’s cunt. I was in the driving seat now and I started pumping into her like I meant it. We were still kissing, proper lovers now, and still feeling each other’s bodies. Her breasts felt so good as they heaved with every shove of cock and cunt, ripples of pleasure through her body, wobbling like jellyfish. Her lips and tongue gave way to open mouthed ecstasy, round reddened lips gasping for air. Her face was blushed and she was panting heavily as I pumped again and again into her perfect pussy.

 

“Faster! Faster!” Gasped my little girl as I fucked her hard.

 

I took my cue, going faster, revelling in the feeling of my balls slapping her arse with every inward stroke.

 

“Faster!” she blurted, her breath so shallow I thought she might have an asthma attack any second.

 

Faster I went, not sure how much longer I could keep this up. But faster I went. I could feel my jizz building to bursting point as I rammed my cock home, again and again and again. In and out of her, her legs bouncing haplessly outwards like shaking banana-skins. I was building to climax; Tammy panting and starting to squeal again. Then I felt her clamping tight around my cockhead, squeezing it with her cunt walls. That was all I needed! Two more thrusts and I pulled out of my baby girl and erupted cum all the way up her lithe young body, spraying jet after jet of white pearl jam up her sweaty skin. I stopped abruptly, shattered, sweat dripping off the end of my nose down onto my poor daughter’s forehead. But she didn’t really notice. I looked down to see her eyes were closed and her body was still shaking. I looked down between us to see my daughter’s hand was a blur at her pussy. I knelt back so I could watch better as Tamara strummed her bud like fury! Her other hand was massaging her breasts in turn, rubbing my cum all over them. My cum was everywhere, shining in the half-light, running off in little rivulets, pools gathered in her belly button and the well of her neck, running off each side looking like a choker necklace. It was matted through her pubic hair. It was on her hands. And it was drizzled like Caesar Salad dressing over face, her tongue coming out to lick her cum laced lips. With a final flurry I watched as my sweet sixteen jerked and spasmed, spraying her inner thighs, bed-sheets and me with teenage girl cum. She gasped and collapsed one after the other.

 

I collapsed next to her. I was spent. And so was she.

 

Or so I thought. She woke me another twice that night. She was insatiable! I wasn’t worried about her getting pregnant. She had been on the pill for two years due to irregular periods. We had the whole weekend to ourselves, and whenever we returned to the hotel for any reason she wanted to do it again. We showered together. We became so comfortable around each other naked that we seldom wore anything in the room at all. The train journey home was a return to reality, we both knew. But she looked amazing as we took our first class ride homeward. The sun caught her coppery hair and she kept catching my eye and smiling. Halfway through the journey I was working on my laptop when I felt the unmistakable feel of something touching my crotch. I looked down to see my daughter’s sock covered toes rubbing insistently at my swelling cock. I looked over my laptop to see Tamara looking innocently out of the window. She smiled, knowingly.

 

The End

 

 

 

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