Author: Hardguy
Title: daddysbed (Work in Progress)
Summary: The following story is a work in progress and is presented
as is. It may be unformatted, contain misspellings, poor grammar,
half constructed thoughts, and continuity errors. Story title may be
misleading, as the plot may change during the writing process from
the initial inspiration. If anything, it is presented in an effort to
gauge reader interest.
Keywords: M/f/g, f/g, ped, inc, dad/dau, 1st, cons, mast


      =1=
      
      "Daddy, can I sleep with you tonight?"
      
      That was how it started.  My 11-year old daughter complaining
of insomnia and loneliness, the solution to which was in her mind
crawling in bed with me, the only parent she unfortunately had.  I
had gotten her mother pregnant in a one-night-stand on a business
trip I took to Australia, and it was almost 9 years later that I
found out I had left anything other than my tie half a world away.  I
still wasn't sure how they found me, but poor little Trisha needed
me.  Her mother had died suddenly from a brain aneurysm, and as her
parents had already passed away, the little girl was without anybody
to take care of her.
      
      "Sure, sweetheart," I replied.  She flashed me a shy grin and
bounded onto the bed, her braided hair bouncing as she clambered over
to me and kissed my cheek.
      
      "Thank you, daddy," she said with that endearing accent she'd
brought with her from the former British penal colony.  Although we'd
been living together for the last 2 years, I was still finding
something new about her every day.  Today's discovery?  She'd
sprouted a pair of tiny tits.  This I learned as she pulled back from
the kiss on the cheek she'd just given me, her nightshirt hanging
down to reveal the pink little peaks jutting out from her chest.  She
must have noticed my staring, as she regarded me with a curious look.
      
      "What is it, daddy?"
      
      "Your shirt, sweetheart...it's, uh, kind of loose."  That only
seemed to puzzle her more, until she looked down and her eyes grew
big at what she saw.
      
      "Oh wow!" she shouted.  "I have boobies, daddy!  My boobies
are growing!"  It seemed she was as surprised by their appearance as
I was.  Hurriedly, and without regard for me being right there in her
presence, she pulled off the nightshirt and began to grope and rub
the little bumps.  This made me somewhat uncomfortable to watch. 
While she was woefully immature and my own daughter to boot, there
was still the fact that I, as a man, had a rather predictable
reaction to seeing a pair of bare breasts.
      
      "Yes, sweetheart, it would appear that you do," I said with
nervous laughter, looking away.  I really didn't know what to do now.
While she had no hang-ups about baring her chest around me, I still
wanted to respect her privacy.  As you might imagine, after 2 years
together, I've caught a few looks at her in the buff, always with a
blush and a hurriedly placed hand between her legs on her part.  It
would appear however that her sense of modesty went no higher than
her belly.  She laid down beside me, and frowned as her new toys
seemingly melted back into her chest.
      
      "Awww..." she whined.  "They went away.  I look like a boy
again."  There was a smart remark I felt like making just then, but
the less attention drawn to the sizeable bulge below my waist the
better.
      
      "Do you like them, daddy?  Your willy is getting big."  She
surprised me with that observation.  I'd certainly never taught her
about erections or what causes them.  Must have been one of her
little friends at school, or something she saw on TV.
      
      "I, uh...they're very...um...nice, Trish," I sputtered
nervously, trying not to look at her.
      
      "I made your willy grow, didn't I?" she giggled at me.  "Mummy
told me that boys did silly things when a girl made their willy big."
That mystery was quickly solved.  I knew of course that her mother
hadn't been too much of a prude seeing as how it had taken only a few
drinks and a dance for me to be sweating atop her.  She'd had quite a
mouth on her too that night.  Perhaps Trish had picked up a little
street smarts over those 9 years in her mother's care.
      
      "Ok, that's enough talk, cute stuff.  Put your nightshirt back
on and get some sleep," I told her, avoiding the question with my
authority.
      
      "You're no fun," she grumbled and pulled the shirt on over her
head.  She burrowed under the covers and lay on her side, keeping a
vigil over the lump in my sheets.  Unfortunately for her I came to
the end of a chapter in my book, and switched off the light.
      
      "Goodnight, sweetheart," I told her as I kissed her forehead
and settled down beside her.
      
      "Goodnight daddy...and your silly willy," she giggled after a
beat.  I had to admit, she was gonna be a little hottie when she grew
up...and that both terrified and excited me.
      
      
      =2=
      
      "Daddy?" came the sweet little voice from my doorway the next
night.  "Can I sleep with you again?"  I looked up from my book and
while my jaw muscles went slack, another part of me started to firm
up.  Standing at the doorway was my sweet little Trish, wearing only
a small t-shirt and panties.  Panties, that were at least two years
too small for her, and though they did the job of covering what they
needed to cover, they did it rather close.  The little mound I'd been
privy to seeing at most twice a year, was all but on display if not
for the white cotton stretched taut over it.  If I had looked up
'camel toe' in a dictionary, there would have been a picture of my
daughter's pelvis at that moment next to it.
      
      "Uh...well, I guess," I responded, a little shocked by how
readily I let her join me myself.  As Trish smiled and bounded onto
my bed, I couldn't help noticing her little boobs pressing on the
shirt she wore.  It looked almost a size too small as well.
      
      "I love sleeping with you, daddy," she lilted before
stretching her body out next to me.  It was like she...like she
wanted me to look.  "Is your willy hard now, daddy?" she asked point-
blank.  It most certainly was, but the sheets were bunched up keeping
her from seeing for herself.
      
      "Trish..." I started, but I was at a complete loss at how to
go on.  How in the hell was a grown man supposed to tell a little
girl...no, how was a father supposed to tell his pre-teen daughter
that she was an ace at getting his cock up?
      
      "Look daddy, this is new too!" she said, shaking me from my
moment of deep thought on this predicament.  I refocused my attention
on her, and was completely stunned by what she was (trying to) show
me.  She was up on her knees and her panties had been pulled down far
enough (which wasn't that far at all) to show the start of her slit. 
She had a finger pointing at a spot on her pudgy little girl mons
pubis.
      
      "T-Trisha!  What are you doing?!" I hoarsely demanded, my
mouth having gone dry as another part of me made use of my bodily
fluids.
      
      "I've got a hair on my fanny, daddy!"  The first time she ever
said fanny to me, I was incredibly confused.  I'd just had my first
accidental look at her naked, and it was a fully frontal look without
a hint of backside to it.  She had scolded me for seeing 'her fanny,'
and I had argued with her that I'd only seen her from the front.  It
was an uncomfortable moment for the both of us as she explained the
Australian meaning of the word 'fanny' in the limited child
vocabulary available to her.
      
      "Sw-sweetheart, this is incredibly inappropriate..." I
stuttered, both wanting to stare and yet not wanting to appear a
lech.  It was during one of these looks away that I felt a hand grab
at me, or rather, grab at it.  Even through the layers of my boxers,
the sheet, and the comforter, my daughter's hand managed to get a
decent enough grip that she giggled madly feeling it jump in reflex.
      
      "Your willy wiggled, daddy!" she squeaked in delight.  I was
beside myself with a different emotion, however.
      
      "Trisha Abigail McClaren Beaumont!" I shouted, using her full
name and both my last name and her mother's as it appeared on her
legal documents.  "You are being an extremely naughty little girl!" 
So livid was I, that it took several moments before I realized she
was shaking and cowering in fear.  I had never had any reason to
raise my voice to such a level with her since she came to live with
me, but she had absolutely crossed a line here and brought it out of
me.
      
      "I-I-I'm sorry daddy...I just wanted to see what it felt
like..." she noticed that I had relaxed once I saw how afraid she
was, and made her escape out of my room.  I could only sigh and feel
horrible about how frightened she'd looked just then.  I probably
should have gone to her room and had a talk with her, but even I was
a little shaken by the moment, that I felt perhaps it would be best
to leave it alone until tomorrow.
      
      
      ==3==
      
      Slipping into bed, I reflected on the day I'd just had. 
Trisha had slept in, perhaps on purpose, robbing me of the now
routine kiss she'd give me before I leave for work.  Since it was the
summer and she was out of school, I'd been leaving her home alone in
the mornings, returning for lunch, and then leaving her for the
afternoons.  I never had any qualms about doing so, as Trisha was a
good responsible girl who knew better than opening the door to
strangers or using the oven (despite her ability to cook better than
me).  Today had just been...awkward for both of us, and it had robbed
her of the usual bubbly personality that I discovered that I missed
deeply.
      
      Rather than her being up with the birds as is usual, she was
still asleep when I went in to say good-bye to her.  The rather
sultry clothes she'd worn for her stunt the night before were laying
on the floor, and I could see that she'd changed into an old t-shirt
of mine before going to bed.  Though dry, I could see where the tears
had streaked down her cheek before she was calmed by sleep.  I kissed
her cheek and stepped out of her room, fighting tears of my own.
      
      She was awake when I arrived home for lunch, but I was still
getting the cold shoulder from her.  She didn't so much as glance at
me before stalking off to her room and closing the door.  Still I
made her and I lunch, and left it outside her door.  I ate there in
the hall as well, hoping for a chance to talk when she'd emerge for
the food, but I was forced to suffer the hour silent and sullenly. 
That feeling followed me back to work, and didn't go unnoticed by my
colleagues.  In particular our young intern Daisy, whom I'd always
secretly desired.  I may just have been imagining things, but I got
the feeling that the way she lingered behind my back and over my
shoulder, pressing her breasts against me, was her way of trying to
cheer me up.
      
      Dinner fared a little better.  I brought home Trish's favorite
take out, and found her sitting at an already set table.  Normally
we'd set it together and talk about the day, but it would seem she'd
thought of everything to keep from speaking to me.  I spoke to her
while we ate of course, but aside from a nod or a shake of her head,
I was shut out.  I attempted to bring up last night, but she just got
up and left me there at the table.  Sure this made me angry, and I
very nearly went as far as to remove her door from its hinges.  But I
also knew she couldn't stay mad and silent around me forever, so I
turned to the punching bag in the garage to work out my frustrations.
      
      Later as I tried to relax on the couch with the TV, she came
out to finish her food.  I kept my mouth shut, as I knew she was in a
stubborn little snit, and there was no point in prodding her further.
Much to my surprise, after she'd finished and cleaned her plate, she
joined me on the couch, and lay against my shoulder.  I suppose in a
way, it was how she'd decided to forgive and apologize to me for the
previous 24 hours.  It would appear she craved the same daily
physical contact with me that I'd been sorely missing from her since
the morning.
      
      She fell asleep there next to me, and so I carried her into
her room.  Though still relatively small, the weight of her body in
my arms reminded me that she wasn't getting any younger or more
innocent to the world.  I considered briefly undressing her and
putting her into her pajamas, but if she were to wake and get the
wrong idea, considering it was her exposed body that put us into this
mood in the first place, what little progress had been made today
would be lost.  I did however take off her shorts before tucking her
in, and I admit, I was tempted to have a feel or a peek, but
molesting unconscious girls really isn't my thing.
      
      On the way out of her door, I spied the skimpy pair of panties
still on the floor where she had left them the night before.  Feeling
very much like a pervert, I snatched them up and had a sniff.  The
smell was of pussy alright.  I looked back at my daughter, sleeping
soundly, and took another whiff.  My cock got hard, and I got out of
there before I did something that I would really feel bad about.
      
      That brings me back to now, settling down for my own
slumber...well maybe not right away.  I still had Trisha's panties in
my hand, and the feel of Daisy's perky teen tits pressed on my back
seared into my memory.  Putting the tiny strip of cloth to my nose,
and my hand around my shaft, I started pounding away at myself, all
while imaging what Daisy looked like without that blouse on today. 
Unfortunately my most recent frame of reference for what female
breasts actually looked like, were those on Trisha's chest.  I wound
up jerking myself to a mix of preteen precociousness and teenage
temptations.  Using the only thing I had on hand to collect it, I
tossed my cum into my little girl's balled up knickers.
      
      As I basked there in my post-orgasm glow, a distant rumble of
thunder sounded outside.  They'd mentioned the possibility of storms
on the news tonight, and sure enough, there it was.  While there had
only been about a 20% chance of thunderstorms, there was a 100%
chance of what happened next: a half-naked preteen girl came running
into my room and cowered next to me.  Storms were not Trisha's
favorite thing.  When I said half-naked, I meant it too.  From the
waist down, she was entirely exposed, and the shirt she wore didn't
do a thing to hide her cute little bald peach.
      
      "Well hello to you too, honey," I said, somewhat bemused,
although a little uneasy since I too was naked from the waist down
under the sheets, and had a semen loaded pair of little girl's
underwear under there as well.
      
      "I'm sorry you can see my fanny, daddy, but I woke up on my
bed, and I was changing clothes, and the thunder boomed, and I just
ran in here without thinking.  Please don't be cross.  Please,
please, let me stay here with you," she pleaded before cringing at
another rumble of distant thunder.  There wasn't even any lightning
that I'd seen out the window, so I figured the storm must be pretty
far away.  Regardless, the sound alone was Trisha's personal
kryptonite.
      
      "It's ok, honey," I assured her.  "It's ok this time because
you're not being bad about it.  You understand the difference, don't
you?"
      
      "Yes daddy, I do."  I noticed a flash out the window, as did
Trish, who squealed.  I wanted to roll onto my side and pull her to
me, but the soiled knickers and my bare dick gave me pause.  She was
almost certain to burrow herself under the covers and cling to me,
and then what kind of situation would we find ourselves in?  I found
out almost 30 seconds later as the accompanying thunder boomed and
she started to go under.  I moved quickly, managing to move the
panties away from her and dropping them to the floor beside the bed,
but there was little I could do about the feeling of her bare thighs
trapping my own between them.  She had gotten atop me, straddling my
leg, the undeniable feel of her bald sex lips pressed against me just
above the knee.  I had been limp since just before she rushed into my
room, but since my cock tended to hang in the direction she now
occupied, the tip which was still a little wet from my cum rubbed
along her side.
      
      She got over her fear of the elements before she realized the
position she had put us into.  My dick drippings startled her and
made her sit upwards, putting her weight upon my leg, increasing the
friction between her untouched cunt and my leg tenfold.  She squirmed
and gasped at this sensation between us, the stunned look on her
deeply reddening face a priceless sight to behold.  Her upright
position also had the side-effect of lifting the blanket off of me,
and displaying to her my rearroused member.  I had to admit, the view
I had of her, dressed in just the little t-shirt, bare from the hips
down, riding my leg, was just as great, if not better.
      
      "Oh wow," she said, gazing upon me.  Up until this point I
could understand all that had just occurred as pure chance and
accidental contact between the two of us.  The way she then ground
herself into my knee, twisting her hips, and whimpering, seemed a
little more intentional.
      
      "T-Trisha..." I sputtered.  The sound of my voice seemed to
shake her out of whatever trance these new feelings had put her in,
and her eyes locked with mine.  She looked from my face, to my cock,
to my leg that was her unwitting sex partner, and squealed.
      
      "Don't look daddy, don't look!" she begged, grabbing at her t-
shirt and trying to pull it to cover her vulva.  The shirt, which
naturally showed her midriff, couldn't be pulled far enough down to
hide anything, but her actions backfired a little and pulled it taut
over her little tits, making them stand out on what would otherwise
appear to be a flat boyish chest.  She was shifting from side to side
throughout this panic to regain her modesty, and that only served to
stimulate her more, causing her to wince and gasp.  As cock-
throbbingly fun as I found this, I also was concerned for her well-
being, and didn't want her to make a spectacle of herself.
      
      "Sweetheart, it's ok," I said, putting my hand over my eyes. 
I felt her scramble off my leg, the small wet spot left by her little
cunt catching the air and cooling my skin.
      
      "I'm sorry daddy, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to rub my fanny on
you, honest.  Don't be mad at me daddy.  I don't ever want you to be
mad at me again," she pleaded with me.  I uncovered my eyes and
looked at her.  She was sitting upright with the sheets bunched up
around her waist.  Her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing a
little heavily.  She was also squirming from side to side as she
stared at me, or more specifically she was staring at my still
uncovered lower half.
      
      Despite my parental instincts screaming at me to pull the
sheets up and cover my nakedness from her eyes, I couldn't help
feeling that something had changed between me and my little girl. 
She wasn't the same pony and doll loving little moppet I'd met at an
orphanage in Australia.  Her body was still childish and immature,
but I had seen that changing over the past few nights.  Her mind was
growing up and changing as well.  It was doing so in concert with her
body, and was likely fueled by the same surging hormones that were
turning her physically from girl to woman.
      
      "I suppose we're equals now," I said to her, making a gesture
at my penis, highlighting our similar states of exposure to one
another.  "You've been awfully curious about this, haven't you?"  She
nodded slowly in agreement with me, and then with a start she looked
to my face and quickly covered her eyes, as though she had forgotten
her father was attached to the organ she had focused on.
      
      "Sorry, daddy, sorry!  I shouldn't look!  I'm being very
wicked right now, I'm sorry!"  I had to admit, I was proud of how
respectful she was being for me and my privacy.  It had probably been
enhanced by my outburst 24 hours earlier and now she was perhaps
overreacting a little bit.  However, I felt as though I was now just
teasing her by leaving my dick out in the open like this, and was
having a little joke at her expense.  I pulled the sheet up, covering
myself, and I could tell she had been peeking through her hands
anyways, as she took them away from her eyes once there was nothing
more for her to see.
      
      "Now, don't you think it's time for you to go back to your own
bed, honey?" I asked her.
      
      "Yes, daddy," she said, perhaps a little glum, but with a
confused look on her face.  No doubt she was wondering why I hadn't
yelled at her for everything that had just transpired.  She swiveled
her body around to get off the bed and rose up from the bundled
sheets, flashing me a look at her cute little ass.  She hurried out
of the room, glancing back at me as she entered the hall, a shy grin
on her face.  Perhaps she had sensed the same change between us that
I had as well, because there was something in her eyes that showed
that she felt she had just gotten away with murder.
      
      
      ==4==
      
      The next day went on as though the prior 24 hours had never
happened.  I got my usual hugs, kisses, and chatter from my little
Australian princess.  I went to work more adjusted and happy than the
day before, so much so that a few of my male co-workers wanted to
know who the lucky woman in my life was now.  If only they knew the
truth!  Even my desired delicious Daisy took note of this, though she
didn't express it in quite the same crude manner as the men had.
      
      Trish was acting a little odd when I got home for lunch,
though.  She was fidgety and seemed to shy away from his eyes, rather
like their encounter in bed the night before.  I couldn't help
wondering if she'd been touching herself thinking about it.  The
thought certainly got me hard, but my maturity and experience helped
me to keep from letting on.  As before, I didn't want to embarrass
her.  I noticed also that after I kissed her goodbye after lunch, she
made a beeline for her room, rather than sitting out and watching TV
as she usually did after lunch.  There was definitely something she
didn't want to do where I might see her.
      
      She was still nervous when I got home after work.  In fact,
she was downright on edge about something.  I didn't really know what
until I went to my bedroom to change out of my office clothes.  My
bed was completely bare.  Every sheet, blanket, and pillowcase was
gone.  I turned to go back out and question Trish about it, but she
was right there behind me, looking quite guilty.
      
      "I got your bed messy, daddy, I'm sorry," she said.
      
      "How?  What happened?"
      
      "I spilled a glass of water on it."  I supposed that was
plausible, but that didn't explain why it happened on my bed and not
in the kitchen or living room.  I noticed I had been hearing the
washer and drier since I got home, but that wasn't unusual since
Trish usually did laundry in the middle of the week, and it was
Thursday, though my sheets weren't normally something she'd wash.
      
      "Why were you in my room with water?"  This question made her
freeze, and she stammered about, unable to find any words.  This
obviously wasn't a detail she'd considered in her explanation.  I
decided to extend her a little more leniency since my mood had been
so good today, but anything further would earn an interrogation.  "Oh
well, these things happen.  Thank you for washing them, honey."  She
seemed to be relieved and went pale at almost the same time.  She was
smart enough to know I knew something was going on, but was letting
her off the hook.
      
      "Y-yes, daddy, I guess they do.  Dinner's almost ready," she
said, excusing herself and making an escape.  I changed my clothes,
and on my way back down the hall to the kitchen, I noticed the sheets
were also missing from her bed.  'Another spilled glass of water,' I
mused to myself.  Standing there in her doorway, I glanced down at
the hamper by her door.  There were not one, but two pairs of panties
in an otherwise empty hamper.  I glanced quickly down the hall to see
if Trish was looking, and then fished out the discarded underwear. 
Just as I'd expected, they were damp in the crotch, and probably not
from spilled water.
      
      "Daddy, dinner's ready," she called to me, and I dropped the
panties back into the hamper, and started down the hall again.  I
gave her a smile as I came into view, perhaps too big of one, because
she did stare oddly at me.  It might be harder to keep these things
to myself than I had thought.  She brought over the dish to the
table, meatloaf, and set it on a hotpad.  She was skilled in 3
dishes, meatloaf, macaroni and cheese, and pancakes, so it was always
one of those on her night to make dinner.  I couldn't help thinking
she'd be a great wife some day.
      
      "It smells, great, sweetheart," I said, sitting down.
      
      "Thanks daddy," she responded with a blush, and took off her
apron before sitting across from me at our small table.  I noticed
she was wearing a skirt as well...hadn't she been wearing shorts at
lunch time?
      
      "So, aside from spilling water all over the place, what else
did you do today, honey?" I asked her, making sure not to ask when
her mouth was full.
      
      "Just the wash, daddy," she said, still sounding a little
ashamed.  We chewed in silence together for a moment.  I had noticed
that since school had let out, she was much less talkative about her
day during dinner, likely because there was nothing particularly
interesting about being home alone for hours on end.  Unfortunately
for her, there was something I wanted to discuss.
      
      "Trisha, sweetheart, about last night," I started, seeing her
visibly tense up.  "I'm not upset with you or anything, but I think
it's important that we have a talk about some of what you saw and may
have felt."  She kept her eyes on her plate, and just nodded.  "I
realize it's kind of an embarrassing thing and will probably make
both of us very uncomfortable, but this is a discussion I'd prefer we
have now, instead of at a bad time in the future."  She just nodded
again, not even poking at her dinner.  I opened my mouth, intending
to broach the subject of my erect penis, but she was saved by my
ringing cell phone from the other room.
      
      "Excuse me, sweetheart," I said, getting up from the tension
thick table.  The number on my phone was from work.  "Hello?"
      
      "Oh, Mr. Beaumont!" came the sweet voice through the speaker. 
It was Daisy.  "There's something really wrong with the server.  It's
like it didn't save anything since about 2 this afternoon.  They
caught me just before I left, and asked me to call everybody back
in."  The initial joy I'd felt upon hearing her voice was dashed away.
      
      "You're kidding me...gah, ok," I sighed.  I looked over at
Trisha, who had been looking at me.  She saw my eyes on her, and she
looked down at her food again.  "Well, I'm just in the middle of
dinner here, and I'd really rather not leave Trisha home alone at
night."
      
      "I could watch her for you," Daisy offered on the other end. 
"I don't really do any of that stuff you and the others do with the
server stuff, so I could come over and spend the evening with her
until you get home."  I swore I heard a bell ring in my head when she
said this.
      
      "Uh, sure, if you really want to.  I don't want to keep you if
you had other plans or anything tonight," I replied.
      
      "Oh no, it's no problem at all.  I'll get your address from
accounting, and leave right after I finish calling everybody," she
said.  I was absolutely impressed with how mature she sounded, and
couldn't believe she was still a teenager.
      
      "OK, well, great.  It's not a long drive, only about 15
minutes.  I think Trisha would really like somebody else to talk to
around here, anyways."
      
      "Alright, see ya soon, Mr. Beaumont!" she chirped and hung up.
I turned back to Trisha who was looking up at me from the table.
      
      "Who was that, daddy?"
      
      "That was work, sweetheart.  I need to go back for a few
hours.  A girl who interns for us is going to come over and stay with
you until I get back."  Noticed a certain look of relief on her face
when I said I would be leaving.  I sat down at the table to finish
eating, and dampened her spirits some.  "But don't think I'm going to
forget about our little talk, Trisha.  We'll just have to postpone
that until tomorrow night."
      
      "Ok," she said, a bit glum, but eating again for the first
time since I'd mentioned the other night.  I hurried through my food,
and then got up to go change my clothes.  I didn't have to wait long
after that before Daisy showed up.  She was still dressed in her
white blouse and navy mini skirt that she'd worn to work.  There was
just this adult air about her that could have easily led somebody to
believe she was several years older, despite her smaller stature and
youthful face.  I supposed though that anybody would have to grow up
a little faster after losing their parents while still in high school.
      
      "Hi, Mr. Beaumont!"
      
      "Come on in, Daisy," I said, taking her hand.  I turned
towards the kitchen and saw Trisha standing there watching us. 
"Honey, this is Daisy...uh..."
      
      "Barton, Daisy Barton," the teen supplied, looking a little
embarrassed.
      
      "Right, and this is my Trisha, Daisy."
      
      "How do you do, Trisha?" Daisy asked, without talking to
Trisha like so many adults usually did to children.  Rather, the tone
she used was one that would use with a peer.
      
      "Very well, thank you," Trisha said, her accent prompting
surprised eyebrows on Daisy's face.
      
      "Honey, go on and finish tidying up the kitchen," I dismissed
Trisha from the introductions, and turned then to Daisy.
      
      "Her voice is just darling sounding!  I knew she was from
Australia, but I guess I just didn't expect it to be so cute!" Daisy
said, nearly gushing.
      
      "Um, Daisy, I know this might sound like a strange request,
but over the last few days Trisha has...well...been going through
some growing pains, and they're not really the type that a daughter
should have to talk to her father about.  I realize this isn't what
you had in mind when you offered to watch her for me, but if she
starts asking questions of that type, don't feel like you'd be
stepping on any toes by answering them for her," I said, hoping I
wasn't weirding Daisy out of her babysitting gig with such a strange
and potentially touchy instruction.
      
      "Uh, gosh, ok.  I guess I could.  I have a little sister about
Trisha's age, so I kinda had to talk to her too about it after mom
died.  Do you really think she'll ask me, though?"
      
      "Honestly, I don't know, but I wanted you to be aware of it. 
She's not really had any womanly influence since she came to live
with me, and it's been kind of a topic here lately, and she just
might take the opportunity of you being here to satisfy her
curiosity."
      
      "I'll do what I can, Mr. Beaumont."
      
      "Thank you, Daisy.  I think it would save both her and I a lot
of embarrassment.  It's been a tough few days around here."
      
      "Oh, is that why you were so down yesterday?" Daisy asked me
sympathetically.  I knew she'd noticed.
      
      "Kind of, yeah.  Well, I suppose I should get going now that
you're here.  Thank you so much for offering to stay with her
tonight."
      
      "Oh, it's my pleasure, Mr. Beaumont.  If it helps you and the
company, I'm just doing my job, I guess."  She was so modest, that I
felt like kissing her just to impress my gratitude upon her...well, I
felt like kissing her for other reasons as well, but this wasn't the
time or the place for that.
      
      "Trisha, honey, I'm gonna go now," I called out towards the
kitchen.  Trisha came around the corner back into view and nodded at
me.
      
      "Ok, daddy."
      
      "Her bedtime is at 10," I said, turning back to Daisy.  "She's
an angel, so I doubt she'll be difficult at all for you.  Just call
me at the office if you need anything, and help yourself to any food
in the fridge if you get hungry.  Hopefully I can get this all done
and be back in 2 hours tops."
      
      "Don't worry about a thing, Mr. Beaumont.  I think we'll have
a lot of fun tonight," Daisy said confidently, giving Trisha a wink.
      
      "Alright then, bye, girls!" I said and walked out the door.
      
      
      ==5==
      
      When I got to the office, I found that the data loss was a
little more severe than Daisy had let on.  Rather than about 2 hours
of work, the amount was closer to 4.  Luckily though, the majority of
information that needed reentry was preserved on paper or in e-mails,
which managed to escape whatever system error had occurred.
      
      I ended up getting home about a quarter after 11.  The TV was
off and Trisha and Daisy were nowhere to be seen in the main part of
the house.  I headed down the hall and peeked into Trisha's room. 
The light was off and her bed was made, but there was no little girl
laying in it.  I had one more place to check before I started to
panic, and that was exactly where I found them.  They were both
sleeping peacefully on my freshly dressed bed.
      
      Trisha was already changed into her sleep clothes, while Daisy
was wearing one of my t-shirts and sweatpants.  I couldn't help
noticing her skirt, blouse, bra, and pantyhose in a little pile on
the floor.  Her hair was no longer done up in a tightly worn bun like
she had earlier at work and when she arrived, but was splayed out
over my pillow.  A hint of shampoo lingered in the air, and I
remembered that tonight was Trisha's usual bath night.  As you might
expect, I wondered if Daisy had joined her.  I was already stiff from
the idea that she was wearing only panties under those borrowed
clothes, but the thought of her naked body in the tub with my
daughter's nubile form got me throbbing.
      
      I wanted so badly to take a picture of these two angels laid
out on my bed, but I figured the flash would wake at least one of
them, and then I'd really have some explaining to do.  After taking a
moment to capture this scene upon my mind for later study, I went to
Daisy's side and gently shook her shoulder.
      
      "Nnnn, not now, Jace, I'm tired," she muttered half asleep. 
It did give me pause to wonder who Jace was, and why she might think
he was waking her.
      
      "Daisy, wake up, I'm home now," I said gently while shaking
her still more.  Her eyes popped open and she sat up in shock looking
at me.
      
      "Wha--?" she questioned, before looking around and remembering
where she was.  I pointed at Trisha's still sleeping body and then
pointed to the hall.  Daisy nodded in understanding of my directions
and together we left the bedroom for the living room.
      
      "Hope I didn't interrupt any good dreams," I joked with her as
we sat down together on the couch.  She turned a light shade of pink,
looking more now like a teenage girl than college student.
      
      "Oh, no, nothing.  Sorry, we just kinda fell asleep talking is
all.  I hope you don't mind about the clothes.  Trisha offered them
after our bath."  I throbbed so happily after hearing that.
      
      "'Our bath?'" I questioned with a smirk.  A very shy grin
became plastered on Daisy's face.
      
      "Yeah, well...I hope that was ok?  It really helped her open
up to me.  She, uh...she asked some pretty surprising things.  Stuff
I didn't even know about when I was her age.  I kinda feel like I
need to ask, but, um...she wasn't abused when she was little, was
she?"  I could see a look of genuine concern on Daisy's face, and
maybe even a little suspicion.  I couldn't blame her.  If a pubescent
girl living with her single father asked me things like she was
implying were asked, I'd suspect something too.  I figured the only
way to satisfy her fears would be to explain about the past
week...minus the part where I jerked it into Trisha's panties of
course.
      
      "No, she's not been abused, but the last few days, like I told
you earlier, have been kind of a rollercoaster."  I told her of
Trisha's innocent exhibitions, how upset I had become with her
because of it, wisely changed the encounter in my bed to her catching
a look at me getting out of the shower, and my stated intent to have
'the talk' with her this evening.  Daisy nodded, giggled, and blushed
her way through my story, and looked much more at ease with what she
had heard from my daughter's mouth.
      
      "Oh wow!  It sounds like you two have had quite an interesting
couple of days.  I mean, when you told me she might ask about things,
I thought you meant about periods, or she was worried that she'd
never grow big boobs.  It kinda makes sense now how all she wanted to
talk about was, uh...it."  The way Daisy said that last word made it
unmistakable what exactly she was talking about.  Trisha was curious
about sex, most probably sex with me, or at least with a penis like
mine.  Speaking of which, I was plenty hard at the moment.
      
      "Yeah, sorry.  I guess I should have prepared you for it a
little more.  I uh, didn't really know how to say it to you though. 
It's not really polite conversation matter between co-workers,
particularly you and I," I explained.  Daisy grinned again at my
discomfort due to our age difference and how I was old enough to be
her father...that is if I hadn't been so awkward around girls in high
school.  Maybe it was my imagination, but Daisy seemed to be moving
closer to me.
      
      "I don't mind, Mr. Beaumont, really.  I've had guys older than
you talk dirty to me before," she said with a sly grin.  I wasn't
quite sure what past experiences she was implying with that, but I
knew it was probably good news for me.  "Of course, none of them were
as kind or as respectful as you are with me."  Now I never had any
illusions that Daisy was a pure little snowflake; most girls her age
aren't...hell, they certainly weren't when I was in high school.  I
was surprised though by the look in her eyes and the hand she was
sneaking onto my leg.
      
      "Yeah, well, I guess I just think of you more as a person and
a diligent co-worker, than a place to stick it."  I mentally kicked
myself a few times because I could have said that so much better if
my brain hadn't been turning over control to my cock.  Daisy rather
liked it though.
      
      "So you think about that then, sticking it in me?"  I could
tell she was just ready to pounce and ride me there on the couch, and
the hand that she now had rubbing on my tented pants was a tremendous
clue to that end.  "Well, aren't you big?  I'm jealous of your
daughter now...she's already seen it."  I hadn't been thinking about
Trisha since the conversation steered away from her.  She was still
asleep in the bedroom, and could wake up anytime now and catch us.
      
      "Daisy...maybe we shouldn't...Trisha might wake up..." 
Another mischievous grin showed me all of Daisy's perfect teeth.
      
      "She won't.  Not after the fun we had earlier."  My eyes
widened and my cock throbbed.  "Oooh, did you like the thought of
that?"  Daisy asked me.  "She just started to play with herself while
I told her how good a dick felt inside me.  She makes the cutest
little squeak when she cums that I just had to keep her going.  It's
a good thing we were still in the bathroom too, because I don't think
I've ever felt a girl get that wet before...you might say it was like
a glass of spilled water," she said with a wink.  It seemed Trisha
had let her in on the events of the day.
      
      "Now, are you going to let me pull this thing out, or are you
going to have to jerk off in your daughter's panties again?"  My jaw
hung in shock, how did she know about that?  Trisha didn't even know
about that incestuous transgression from last night!
      
      "Wha--...how did you...?"
      
      "They were on the floor beside your bed.  Not the best way to
keep that shameful little secret."  Oh crap, she was right.  I'd
dropped them and forgot them after Trisha had humped my leg.  Daisy
hadn't forgotten that she was ready to fuck me, and didn't bother
asking this time.  She unzipped and fished out my dribbling sensitive
cock like a pro.  "Wow, it's so thick," she marveled as she smeared
precum over the head with her thumb.  "I can see why Trisha worried
about it fitting inside.  She's got the cutest little pussy hole
inside those smooth lips.  This thing would mess her up!"  I couldn't
stop my cock from pulsing as she described my little girl's privates.
Daisy didn't miss it, and knew she had a not just a way to thrill and
tease me, but also a secret she knew I wanted kept.
      
      "Oh god, you're such a perv," she chided me with glee. 
"Getting hard and close to cumming just listening to me talk about
your little girl's cunt.  I hope this doesn't mean I'm too old for
you...I'd be a shame if my nice wet ready pussy didn't get fucked." 
She was really laying it on thick now, complete with a cute (but
forced) pout.  She sucked my precum from her finger, and stood up in
front of me.  The crotch of my borrowed sweat pants had a dark stain.
Daisy put her hands behind her back, and pushed her chest forward,
straining those perky little teen boobs against my borrowed t-shirt,
the nipple topped peak of each of them sticking out.  There was only
one thing she could possibly want me to do now, and I certainly
wasn't going to let her down.
      
      I put my hands on her hips and slid them up under the shirt,
feeling the bare warm skin of her stomach and sides.  My next stop
normally would have been up higher to her breasts, but it was late,
she probably had to get home soon, and she had made it pretty clear
that what she wanted was a fuck.  Her tits could wait until some
other time, and wait they did.  I moved my hands back down, and
hooked my fingers into the stretchy waistband.  I pulled them down,
revealing first those tantalizing body lines that low cut jeans would
show off.  Those same lines drew into a rounded little pad of fat
which looked as smooth as the one on the 5th grade girl asleep down
the hall.  This lovely mesa of girl flesh then split in two, between
which sat the folded flap of skin that hid her sensitive little clit.
      
      Despite the fact that I was in full on primal urges mode, my
brain was still functioning enough to realize that I hadn't peeled
any panties off of Daisy; she had just been bare pussed under my now
favorite pair of sweatpants.  There hadn't been any panties in that
pile of clothes she'd left by my bed either, and since she'd come
here straight from the office, that could only mean that she'd been
commando all day at work under that mini-skirt!  I apparently was
thinking about this a little too long, because Daisy felt the need to
ask.
      
      "What's wrong, Mr. Beaumont?  Is my pussy too old for you to
fuck?"  I looked up from her moist slit, noting that she did indeed
look a little worried now, and not just for show.  Her and I were
never going to be the same again and she was probably wondering if
this had all been a big mistake on her part.  What I said next not
only reassured her that I wanted this as well, but it also removed
the last little part of the formal nature that we'd had since she
started her internship months earlier.
      
      "Call me Alan."  The look of worry melted off her face and she
stepped out of the sweatpants that lay around her sockless feet.  She
stood her legs apart, making those juvenile looking outer lips open
to show me the pink wet insides.  I didn't get to look very long as
she then straddled me, grabbed my cock, and directed it straight into
the first pussy I'd fucked in nearly two years.
      
      We moaned in unison as our bodies pressed together.  She was
really pushing down on me, wiggling her hips from side to side, her
heavenly pocket sucking in as much cock as I had to give her.  Then,
like a human milking machine, she fiercely and franticly bounced her
body on my cock, gasping and squealing every time she pushed down and
filled herself.  I obliged her eagerness by thrusting my hips upwards
as she came down.
      
      "Fuck me, fuck me, Alan," she moaned, stopping her bouncing. 
She pulled off of me, and lay down on the floor, spreading her legs
open in invitation.  I started forward to get on top of her and bury
my sticky throbbing member back in that quarter sized hole of hers. 
I stopped though, looking at her on the floor, thinking how
uncomfortable that must be, not to mention rather dirty.  There was a
better place in the house to do this, one with fresh clean sheets.  I
took her by surprise and picked her up in my arms.  She didn't say
anything, but the look of shock on her face was unmistakable as I
headed into the hallway towards my bedroom.  She looked even more
surprised when I stopped short of my bedroom, and instead carried her
into Trisha's room and put her down on the bed.
      
      "You...you want to fuck me here...Daddy?" she played, acting
like she was my little girl.
      
      "Yes, Daisy, honey, but we have to be quiet and not wake up
your little sister," I replied, referring to Trisha in the other room
nearby.
      
      "Oh, ok, daddy.  Come on and fuck me.  I want some cum in me!"
she said, acting like a horny girl a few years younger probably would
in similar circumstances.  She laid back on my daughter's bed and
spread her legs for me once again.  I didn't stop this time and got
on top of her, returning my cock to its natural environment.  She
squeaked and squealed as I slid inside, something she hadn't done
before, and I could only assume she was imitating what she'd heard
from Trisha earlier.  Her legs wrapped around me, and I started to
fuck her with vigor.
      
      "Is it good, honey?  Does daddy's cock feel good inside you?"
I asked her, feeling a little silly, but she seemed to be getting off
on the roleplaying as well.
      
      "Yes daddy, yes!  Fuck me, fuck and cum in my pussy!"  I
needed no encouragement, as I'd been primed to shoot since seeing her
in my clothes earlier.  Five seconds and 2 thrusts later, I was
flooding Daisy's teen cunt with my sperm.  She kept squeaking and
moaning under me, so much that I had to wonder if she was faking it
just to complete the fantasy of her being Trisha for me.  That's when
I felt her pussy start to shudder around me, and the cute noises she
had been making were replaced with more adult like gasps, whimpers,
and moans.
      
      I kept up my thrusting as much as I could after soaking her
insides, but the sensitivity of my cockhead and the natural softening
of my worn out organ forced me out of her creamy fucked cunt.  Once
we came apart, she released me from her leg hold and I was able to
pull back and look at this fantasy of mine come to life.  She reached
down to her sloppy drooling childlike pussy and scooped some of our
mixed cum out and dribbled it up her body before pouring the majority
of it into her mouth.  She looked at me and smiled.
      
      "We taste yummy together, daddy," she said, and then did it
again.  I watched with erotic rapture as she cleaned herself in this
fashion.  Once she was confident that she wasn't going to create a
puddle on the carpet, she stood up from the bed and kissed me. 
"Thank you for the evening, Mr. Beau-Alan.  I wish I could stay and
share Trisha with you, but need to be getting home."  I opened my
mouth to ask her what she meant by 'sharing Trisha,' but when she
walked from the room, I understood what she meant.
      
      "Daddy..." moaned my little girl, leaning against the
doorframe for support, her panties around her ankles as she rubbed at
her little slit and shuddered, cumming.
      
      
      ==6==
      
      Daisy had already disappeared into the night by the time I'd
gotten Trisha's thighs and pussy all dried off.  She had frigged
herself into a slumber there in the doorway as I was forced to
awkwardly pick up her half-nude body while naked myself and still
with sex juices all about my midsection.  I had little choice but to
take her back to my room and lay her on my bed, since Daisy and I had
made quite the mess on Trisha's sheets.
      
      My hands trembled as I toweled off the vaginal secretions from
my daughter's body.  I don't know if I can describe the mix of
emotions I felt as I cared for her then.  There was my sense as a
father that it would not do her good to sleep with damp skin in some
of her more sensitive places.  That compounded with my feelings as a
man that were erotically charged with the sight before me and the
nature of my work.  After that came a sort of melancholy feeling as I
realized that this was how I might have dried her off after a bath
had I been in her life at all years ago.
      
      I went back to her room to fetch a dry pair of panties for
her, which by my count was the 4th pair she'd worn today.  The room
smelled like sin, an odor of sex that was amplified by the toys,
dolls, and pictures of horses on the walls.  A little girl's room
wasn't supposed to smell like this while looking like that.  I took a
look at the dark wet spot there on her little bed and I couldn't help
getting hard thinking about how the same bed I had just made love to
Daisy on was the same one in which my little Trisha had experienced
her first orgasm, possibly within the last week.
      
      I was about to reflexively jerk off into the clean pair of
panties I held in my hand, but the slight chill about my own naked
genitalia reminded me that they were needed elsewhere.  I returned to
my room and slipped them on over her legs, and drew them up to just
below her well exercised slit.  As I'm sure you've noticed in my
relating this tale to you, I've (almost) always treated my daughter's
right to privacy and modesty with respect, and I was intent on doing
so while dressing her then, but something about her caught my eye.
      
      Only two nights ago she had come into this room, knelt on this
bed, and exposed this perfectly smooth little pussy to me.  Perfectly
smooth.  Hadn't she said something about a hair?  I pulled the
panties down a little more so I could have a clearer view, and I
scrutinized every immature hair follicle on Trisha's textbook
childish mons.  There was no hair there.  Not so much as a dusting of
down.  The little scamp had lied to me just so she could tease me
with her sexy little snatch and get me hard!  I thought briefly about
returning the favor of her grabbing my genitals, and while I was
certainly lusting for her, and this was a great opportunity, there
was just something wrong about the moment.
      
      With some regret, but a renewed sense of chivalry, I tugged
her panties up between her legs and tucked her into my bed.  If there
was to be a time to familiarize myself with my daughter's intimate
anatomy, it would be when she was awake and involved in the moment. 
I left her there and went to the bathroom where I stepped into the
shower.  As I waited for the water to warm up, I looked at the
bathtub that doubled as the shower's basin.  Trisha and Daisy had
been in there together only hours earlier.  I started to wonder how
that came about.  Had Daisy suggested it?  She didn't seem the type
to take advantage of a young girl, so would that mean Trisha wanted
to have a look at a matured female body and invited Daisy into the
bath...only again, such a scenario seemed out of character.
      
      Getting in, I couldn't shake that moment from my mind.  Who
touched who first?  How were they seated?  Was either of them shy? 
Nervous?  Did Daisy use just her hands, or did she eat my daughter
out?  As you might expect, all these questions made my imagination
run wild and my dick hard.  Enough time had passed since fucking
Daisy that I felt I could cum again, so I did.  The fresh memory of
being ball-deep in Daisy plus the visuals of Trisha getting herself
off made short work of my freshly made sperm.  It splattered and
dribbled into the same tub that saw moments of youthful lust and sex
play earlier in the night.
      
      With my final sex act of the night circling the drain, I
washed off the remnants of my coupling with Daisy as well as the
accumulated sweat from the day's work.  I dried off and dressed for
bed.  I made a slight detour to Trisha's room first though to pull
the sex soggy sheets off the bed and put them in the wash.  There was
no sense in leaving them there to set in the illicit stains.  Finally
I collapsed into bed next to my sleeping daughter, and no sooner had
I kissed the back of her neck good night, had I myself fallen asleep.
The last two hours of my day had been exhausting ones.
      
      ***
      
      "Daddy~...Daddy~..." sang the sweet little Aussie voice that I
knew so well.  I opened my eyes to a sunlit room and Trisha's pretty
little face very close to my own.  "Good morning, Daddy," she giggled
and kissed me on the nose.  Still a bit groggy from my deep slumber,
the previous night's events didn't register immediately in my brain,
prompting me to ask...
      
      "What are you doing in bed with me, honey?"  Although it was
common for Trisha to be awake before me, she never tasked herself
with waking me herself.
      
      "I guess I slept here last night, Daddy," she answered.  She
seemed very cheerful about that, and as I sat up in the bed and
looked at her, smiling up at me, her hair messy on the pillow about
her head, it all came back to me.  A heavy awkward feeling overtook
me as did an excited thrill that got me hard right then and there. 
Trisha didn't seem at all phased by any of it and just pushed back
the covers and popped out of bed and into the hall.  I sat there for
a moment wondering if she was going to come back in here and give me
a more intimate wake-up call, but that wasn't the case as I heard the
shower start up.
      
      I considered joining her in there, but given her complete lack
of sexual interest this morning, I decided against it.  Plus the
bathroom door was locked...not that I was trying to sneak a peek at
her or anything, merely curious as to if she had locked it, mind you.
While she washed, I put her sheets into the dryer and made her bed
with the other set of bedclothes I'd kept in case of nocturnal
accidents.  I'd just finished with that task when the shower shut off
and she bounded into her room, towel wrapped around her wet body.
      
      "Daddy!" she squealed as soon as she saw me, and held the
towel tighter to her chest and thighs.  "What are you doing in here?"
she asked, while noticeably switching her gaze from my face to my
boxers.  As you might have guessed, seeing a towel clad Trisha got a
reaction from me.
      
      "I was just making your bed, honey," I said, ready to address
the moment that she had shared with Daisy and I.  Strangely though,
she had another response.
      
      "Oh, I guess Daisy didn't do that after I fell asleep last
night," she replied to my surprise.
      
      "Huh?" was about all the response I could muster, expecting
her instead to blush and fidget at the memory of seeing me fucking
her babysitter.
      
      "I was going to do it, Daddy, honest, but I was so sleepy and
Daisy told me not to worry about it, that she'd do it for me, so I
fell asleep on your bed instead."  Yet another part of last night's
activities was filled in for me by that statement, as Trisha's bed
had indeed been made by the time I got home...but what about the more
memorable part of the night?  Surely she remembered that, didn't she?
      
      "I see...so you went to bed pretty early then?"
      
      "Yes, Daddy, right after my bath," she answered, looking a
little uneasy about telling me details about her evening with Daisy. 
"Daddy, can I get dressed now?"
      
      "Sure, sweetheart," I said, and left the bed unmade.  Walking
past her, I could feel her eyes heavy on my male region.  It only now
struck me as odd that she'd just taken a shower when only the night
before she'd had a bath.  I stopped at her doorway and looked back at
her.  She looked up to my eyes, and tried to withhold the sly smile
that curved her mouth.
      
      "Silly, Daddy.  No peeking!" she exclaimed and gave my butt
the shove it needed to get out of her room.  As soon as her door
closed I wished she was as immodest as she had been just a few days
ago.  That was when I heard my alarm clock go off at its usual time. 
I had to be at work in an hour.
      
      
      ==7==
      
      As you might expect, my reunion at work with Daisy the day
after was an awkward one...though only for me, oddly.  While I tried
not to be too obvious in my new role as her mate, she acted as though
nothing had changed at all between us.  With her unchanged attitude,
and Trisha's lack of comment or really any kind of memory about the
end of last night, I was starting to wonder if I had made it all up
in my head.  Thankfully a folded note tossed onto my desk as Daisy
passed by assured me that I was not going crazy.  Feeling like a
teenage boy in high school again, I unfolded the note whilst glancing
around to see if anybody was watching me.  There were two words
written in that lovely teenage girl handwriting:
      
      Lunch.
      
      Stockroom.
      
      The 'o's in 'stockroom' were drawn as little hearts.  Were I
not a nearly 40-year old man, I would have swooned right then and
there like a lovestruck boy.  Instead I just got an erection that
would not subside the rest of the morning.
      
      Thankfully, this promise of a noon-time quickie in the back of
the office kept me distracted enough that I was able to convincingly
back out of heading out to lunch with my co-workers.  By 12:05 there
were only 6 people left in the building, 2 of which manned the phones
for the entire hour, 2 others with a mountain of work, and the last
two a chance to vanish into the stockroom together for a few moments.
      
      Indeed, moments were all we needed, as no sooner had I gotten
inside were my pants down and my thick pole surrounded by Daisy's
wondrous cunt.
      
      "Oh god...fuck me, Alan," she moaned as I pushed into her from
behind.  As she had dressed yesterday, and for that matter nearly
every day at work, she was wearing a knee-length skirt, which was now
hitched up onto her back as she bent over the small table.  "I
dreamed about you, Alan...you and Trisha...I wanted to see how you
used her after I left last night..."  Of course, I hadn't, but Daisy
didn't know that yet.  "Did you shoot your daddy cum up in her wet
slit?  I want to eat it out of her so badly..."
      
      If Daisy was trying to get me off, it was working, as with a
groan I buried my length inside of her and expelled my seed into her
for the second time in 12 hours.  She bucked her ass into me a few
times, as she looked over her shoulder with a grin on her face, her
tight tunnel milking me for all I had to give her.  Although I was
certain she was satisfied just by making me cum in her, I wasn't
quite so and reached under her to rub her clit.  Her reaction was
instant, and I knew she had been close to orgasm herself just from
anticipation of our screwing like this.
      
      Once I was satisfied that she had gotten hers as well, I slid
my still firm cock from her petite snatch and watched with some
amusement as it dripped into a little white pool on the floor.  She
turned around and grinned wickedly at me as she reached for her purse
that I hadn't noticed was in the room with us, and produced a tampon,
which she inserted into her drooling hole.
      
      "Good thing there's a tile floor in here," she commented as
she pulled up her panties and retrieved a small towel from her purse
as well.  She dropped to her knees, and with one hand sucked my dick
clean while she wiped up the sex puddle with the towel in the other
hand.  In all I don't think my pants were down more than 5 minutes
before she was zipping them up for me.  I was about to open my mouth
when she put her finger to it.  "Sandwich shop down the street, five
minutes," she told me, kissed me, and left.  For a 17-year old girl,
she was acting quite the professional at this.
      
      After waiting the 5 minutes she had suggested, I went in
pursuit of my new lover.  She was seated at a booth inside the
restaurant, looking not at all like she'd just gotten her illegal
twat filled 5 minutes earlier.  She waved and smiled at me and waited
as I ordered before sitting down with her.
      
      "So," she started, trying not to look too lustfully at me,
"how much fun did I miss last night?"  Now it was my turn to smile,
which she naturally mistook for one of a father who had deflowered
his daughter.
      
      "Not a thing," I answered and tried not to laugh at the look
of shock on her face.
      
      "No way!" she almost shouted, making a few people look our
way.  "When I left you were...and she saw...she was...nothing?" she
asked again, as I shook my head chuckling.
      
      "She was out like a light as soon as she was done, and I'm not
the kind of guy that would force that kind of thing on somebody when
they're asleep."
      
      "Wow...I would have spent the night had I known that," she
said, then falling silent a moment as her food was brought out to
her.  "So what about this morning?  Did you say or try anything?"
      
      "No," I said, pausing a moment as well as my food was placed
in front of me.  "Actually, she didn't seem to remember anything
after she fell asleep after the bath.  She's a pretty heavy sleeper,
so it's sort of a surprise she woke up at all while we were...you
know."
      
      "Huh.  Well, I guess I'll have to ask her about it on Saturday
then," Daisy said before taking a bite of her sandwich.
      
      "Saturday?" I asked, not aware plans had been made.
      
      "I'm taking her shopping.  Girl stuff.  No boys allowed," she
informed me, sticking her tongue out at the end.
      
      "Will I be allowed at some point then?" I asked jokingly.
      
      "God yes, you think I'm going to just buy her stuff for free?"
Daisy said, winking at me.  "Both of you are going to be paying me
back...maybe even at the same time if you want."  While it was
certainly an enticing mental image, that offer gave me pause.  I had
no doubt that Daisy could make it happen, but I didn't want to be
pushing Trisha into anything she wasn't ready for.  Daisy saw this
hesitation on my face.
      
      "It's not like you'll be hurting her, you know," she told me. 
"She thinks about you that way.  You are literally her first time
fantasy."
      
      "Oh, I get that...it's just...I need to hear this from her," I
answered.  "I don't doubt that she told you the truth and that she'd
let me do it willingly, but as her father I need to be sure
personally that this is what she wants without being pressured into
it."
      
      "You want to make sure it's a special thing for her, don't
you?" she added, understanding what I was getting at.
      
      "Yeah, I mean, so many girls just a little older than her are
doing it with boys who just want to brag that they stuck it in.  I
guess I want to make sure she doesn't feel used like that just to
satisfy my desires."
      
      "You mean like how you made sure I got off just now in the
storeroom?" Daisy charged with a smile.  Before I could respond to
that, she continued.  "I'm kidding.  You're a sweet guy, Alan;
worrying about the enjoyment that others are getting.  I was
satisfied just feeling you inside of me, but I'm glad to see that you
want her first time to be a special moment for her.  That kind of
thing is extremely important for us girls, you know."  She smiled a
little wistfully at whatever memory that statement carried for her,
and then gave me that devilish naughty grin of hers.
      
      "But after that, we just like getting fucked!"  For the most
part, since we started having this rather public discussion about the
prospect of me committing incest, we kept our voices down and to
ourselves, but we definitely earned a few stares from the other
customers with Daisy's rather crude (but honest) declaration.  While
I was certainly embarrassed, she didn't show if she was at all. 
"Well, I think we should head back to the office, Alan.  Maybe we can
talk more about this later," she said with a wink, wrapping her
sandwich up to go, and leaving me there with a half-dozen pairs of
eyes directed at me.  Either they thought I was a damn dirty pervert
taking advantage of a teen, or lucky to have such a hot young girl
eagerly teasing me with the way she talked.  I felt quite the mix of
both as I slouched down a little and ate the rest of my lunch.
      
      
      ==8==
      
      The rest of the work day slogged on past me.  Daisy was back
to her normal self in our vocational interactions.  Every time I saw
her, I couldn't help thinking about the deposit of sperm I'd left
inside her during lunch.  Apparently the way I looked at her made her
think about it as well, since she would frequently meet my gaze, only
to then look away with a little blush.  As usual I left about 5,
while she was to stay until about 6, so there was little chance of
another rendezvous before the end of the day.  I did however find a
present waiting for me in my car.  Laying on the driver's seat,
apparently thrown in through the small gap I'd left in the window so
my car didn't heat up like an oven, were a crumpled pair of light
blue panties.  Admittedly, I didn't pay much attention to Daisy's
panties while my cock was in her, but I had little doubt these had
been hers.  The damp crotch kinda gave it away too.
      
      I got home to find Trisha was her normal sweet self, and no
mysterious washings of the bed sheets had taken place.  Apparently
she had learned how not to leave evidence that she played with
herself.  Curiously though there were two towels in her hamper as I
passed by her room.  She'd showered this morning, so the other one
came from where?  I let her secret remain unquestioned, and just
reminded myself that it was better with her masturbating to visions
of her dear old dad than experimenting with boys.
      
      It was my turn to make dinner tonight, so I set to work
cooking a pair of chicken breasts, rice, and green beans while she
giggled at cartoons on the couch.  As I did this, the phone rang. 
Quite unusually, Trisha hopped off the couch and rushed to the phone
before it could finish the second ring.
      
      "Hello? ... Hi, Daisy!" she chirped.  This caught my attention
of course, but Trisha just scurried off with the phone down the hall
and I heard her door close.  There she stayed for the next 15 minutes
until I called her out to eat.  I noted a slight rosyness in her
cheeks as she placed the phone back in the charging cradle and sat
down to eat.
      
      "Ahem," I cleared my throat, getting a sheepish look from her.
      
      "That was Daisy on the phone, daddy," she said, thinking that
was what I wanted to hear.  "She wanted to talk a bit."
      
      "And?" I prompted, not ready to show my hand just yet.  She
looked away from me, fidgeting a bit.
      
      "Private things, daddy, I can't tell you..." she answered,
looking up to see if that satisfied me.
      
      "Aren't you forgetting something?  Before you sat down here
perhaps?"  This was a little cruel of me, I know, but I was also
curious about what she might reveal.
      
      "I don't know...what you might mean, daddy..."
      
      "Your hands honey..." this bit of prodding got a look of shock
from her at first, the kind that said 'I've been caught!'  She put it
all together though, and nervously giggled as she got up from her
seat.
      
      "Right...I didn't wash my hands before dinner, I'm sorry
daddy," she said before sprinting to the sink, an embarrassed mess. 
I waited for her to come back and we started eating...or at least I
did.  She sat quietly after taking a portion of the food, just
looking at it.
      
      "Are you feeling ok, Trish?" I asked her.  She glanced up at
me, and then back down to her food.
      
      "Well...yesterday..." she started, certainly getting my
attention.  "You said you wanted to talk to me about...you
know...remember?"  I had completely forgotten.
      
      "Right...you want to have that talk now?" I asked her, sort of
surprised she was even bringing it up.
      
      "I have a few questions, daddy..." she said, her voice getting
quiet.
      
      "Sure.  Ask away," I consented to her wish, maybe a little too
eagerly.
      
      "Um, well..." she struggled with her inhibition.  I found it
interesting how just a few days ago she was giving me teases with her
naked body, yet now it was an embarrassing thing to her.  I could
only assume that was because at first it had just been all in good
fun with no real consequences attached, but now there was the
possibility that something more serious and life changing might
follow it.  "When I, um, was on you, daddy...and your thing...touched
me..." she pointed to her hip about where the contact had been made. 
"It got sticky stuff on me."  Holy shit...she was right.  So much had
happened in those few moments, that the fact that I'd inadvertently
smeared my cum on her body just completely slipped my mind.
      
      "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to do that," I apologized.  I
admit, it felt very strange to be apologizing for something like that
to your own daughter.
      
      "It's ok...were you...um, touching yourself, daddy?" she
asked, not even looking up.
      
      "Yes, I was."  That made her look up at me, her eyes just a
little wider than before.  I could see she was trying not to grin as
she giggled to herself.
      
      "Oh wow...so, uh...you get sticky too when you do that?"  I
could see now she was finding a commonality between male and female
masturbation, one that perhaps she had never considered before.
      
      "Well, it's a little different for boys than it is for girls,
honey," I replied, pausing to see if she wanted more information.
      
      "Oh," was all she said, becoming thoughtfully silent, maybe
even a little disappointed that she'd gotten something wrong. 
"So...did you...before I came in...were you done?"
      
      "Yes, sweetheart.  I had an orgasm before you came in the
room."  I offered a bit more there than she'd necessarily asked me
for, and the way she looked at me with something of a shock, and then
a shifting and wriggling of her body in her seat gave me a whole
paragraph of body language.
      
      "So your, um...thing...it gets sticky when you cu-...I mean,
or-organasm?"  I couldn't help cracking a grin as she almost used a
word I was sure she'd heard from Daisy the night before, and then
stumbled over the proper word she corrected herself with.
      
      "When a man, orgasms, honey, semen comes out of his penis,
from the same hole that we pee from.  There's a lot of it, in fact,
it squirts out."  I could see her cheeks getting redder with every
word I spoke.  I would have loved to had her imagination playing out
for me on a TV screen.
      
      "W-why?!  I mean...where...where does it go?" she asked, maybe
more terrified of the answer than actually curious.  I was sure she'd
gotten the penis-goes-in-the-vagina talk from Daisy last night, if
not from her mother some years ago.  It was only now that she'd
actually seen a penis in it's erect state, and she was trying to
picture it entering her body's much smaller opening.
      
      "The penis goes into the vagina, you know what that is, I
hope," I said, pausing for her to bashfully nod yes, "and the semen
is squirted into it.  That is how babies are made."
      
      "B-but not always!" she blurted out, and then calmed down a
bit as she felt a little more courage, perhaps thinking she could
teach me something here.  "M-mummy told me, that when a girl got old
enough to grow boobies, and hair on her fanny, that she would start
to bleed a little from there...that meant she could make babies."
      
      "That's absolutely, right honey," I confirmed for her. 
"Probably in a few years or sooner you'll start doing that too."
      
      "Yeah, I know...I kinda talked about some girl things with
Daisy last night, daddy."  Finally, her first admission that any sort
of sexual discussion took place the night before.  "That's ok, right,
daddy?  I can talk to Daisy about those things, right?"
      
      "Yes, sweetheart, that's absolutely fine.  I think Daisy would
be a great person for you to learn some things about being a
beautiful young woman from."  Trisha was smiling from ear to ear when
I gave her my blessing to learn more from Daisy.
      
      "Would it be ok if Daisy bought me some things too?  She sorta
offered to buy me a bra this weekend...maybe some pretty knickers
too..."  There was so much hope and eagerness in her eyes, that even
if I had been opposed to such an outing, I couldn't have turned her
down.
      
      "You may go," which was enough to have Trisha up out of her
chair and running around the table to throw her arms around my neck,
"but..." and that got her pulling back with a bit of confusion.  "But
you will not take advantage of Daisy's kindness, ok?  I will give you
money, and you will pay for them, not Daisy."  She vigorously nodded
her head yes to this arrangement.
      
      "Of course, daddy," she agreed quite readily.
      
      "And just this first time is a gift from me to you.  If you
want to buy any more, you'll need to save your money up to buy them. 
Being responsible for that is also part of being a young woman."
      
      "Yes, daddy, I understand," she said, trying to keep from
bouncing up and down from excitement.  I could see a thought enter
her mind as she paused, staring off at nothing in particular.  "Where
will I get my money from, daddy?  Do I have to get a job like you and
Daisy?"  I had to laugh because of how distraught she'd sounded
saying the word 'job.'
      
      "No, honey, I'm going to give you an allowance every week. 
You already do so much around the house, that I think you'll earn it
very easily.  In fact, just to be fair, I'll start off by giving you
$100 for everything you've been doing up until now for free, ok?"
      
      "ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS!  THAT'S FANTASTIC!" she squealed.  "How
much will my allowance be?!"
      
      "I'll give you $1 for each chore you do.  When you do the
laundry, that's $1.  When you cook dinner, that's another dollar. 
You'll probably be making about $15 a month that way.  Maybe we can
come up with some other things you can do too for some money."  I
know what you're thinking, and no, that was not what I had in mind
when I told her that, but believe me, the thought had occurred.
      
      "Ok! Ok daddy, ok!" she twittered happily, kissing my cheek
and hugging me again.  "Thank you, daddy," she said, looking into my
eyes, her own twinkling with love.  For the briefest of moments, I
wanted to press my own lips to hers, and I got the feeling that she
wanted to do the same.  Our birds-and-the-bees talk had been
forgotten in the excitement of her allowance being decided upon, but
with our bodies pressed up close like this, and the hormonal rushes
of adolescence perhaps enhancing her love for me at that very moment,
there was very suddenly sexual tension between us.  I knew I wasn't
the only one of us that felt it, because she did move her face closer
to mine, her lips on an invisible track to meet mine.  Whatever
series of events that might have been sparked by a kiss at this
moment were put on ice when next I spoke.
      
      "Your dinner is getting cold, honey."  Trisha stopped.  Had
she been any closer, my lips would have brushed on her own when I
moved them to speak.  She pulled back, smiling shyly, and turned away
from me to return to her seat.  I don't think I'd ever felt so much
regret in my life than I did at that moment.  I had taken in the
sight of her young body many times over the past few days, but this
time felt so much different.  I noticed for the first time the sway
of her hips, the bounce of her hair, the way her body flexed and
compressed as she took each step.
      
      Her profile in that instant especially caught my eye, not
because of the subtle peaks emerging from her chest, but because of
the memories it returned to me.  She was every inch her mother's
daughter, and I was reminded of all the reasons I had gone to bed
with that beautiful young woman over a decade and half a world ago. 
Trisha had been born with those eyes and that smile...a virtual
cloning of the same pair of lips that had eagerly surrounded my cock
both before and after we had unknowingly conceived the child that was
now seated across the dinner table from me, grinning like a fool as
she devoured her food.  I must have stared and spent a little too
much time watching her and reminiscing about such things, because it
prompted her to speak.
      
      "What's wrong, daddy?  Are you not hungry?"  Trisha was
looking at me, scrutinizing my sudden lack of appetite.  The eyes now
took on the resemblance of her mother's, the same wary questioning
gaze that I had been greeted with when I had offered to buy her a
drink in that pub.
      
      "No, it's nothing, sweetheart...I was just thinking...you look
so much like your mom."  We didn't discuss her mother much.  Trisha
usually did her best to change the subject if I tried to ask about
her, but that comment from me really made her beam.
      
      "Thank you, daddy...mummy was very beautiful, wasn't she?"
      
      "Yes, honey, she was.  I wish I'd known her more."  That
really put a shy blush on Trisha's face.  I suppose she'd always
known that she was the product of a one-night stand, but it wasn't
really until these last few days that she came to understand what
exactly took place during one of those encounters.
      
      "You'd really like her daddy..."
      
      I couldn't argue with that, since many years ago, for about 5
hours, I most certainly did.
      
      
      ==9==
      
      Had this been like any other night during the previous 2
years, I'd probably have been jerking off before bed, but since I'd
been given a presumably endless invitation for sex from Daisy, I
chose to read a book this evening instead.  My mind wasn't really on
the words on the page, though.  Instead I was busy thinking about
Trisha, naturally.  Ever since dinner as I had watched her eat like I
was some kind of a love struck school boy, I had been wondering if I
was exactly that, love struck.
      
      I supposed that as my daughter, I did indeed love her, but for
a long time it had felt like a kind of forced love.  After all, I had
been a 36-year old bachelor when Trisha came into my life.  It was a
rather sudden transition from going out drinking with my buddies
after work to coming home to make dinner for a little girl.  I know
that first night she was under my roof, I said those 3 words to her,
'I love you,' but that's what I was supposed to say, right?  It felt
stiff and fake as I just sort of put them out there after tucking her
in to my bed and then I went and slept on the couch.  I knew she was
scared, I knew she was alone, and completely unsure of who this man
was that had taken her into his home.
      
      Hell, I felt pretty much the same on all of those counts.  I
didn't know the first thing about raising a pre-adolescent daughter. 
I might have had some inkling of what should be done if I'd been
around her for a few years, but suddenly, there she was.  It was only
several months later that I really grew into my new role as a father.
Bit by bit, the way she said 'daddy' became softer and fuller of
life, and in a similar fashion the way I said 'I love you' did as
well.  Still, there was a feeling that it was by rote, and not by
emotion.  It probably wasn't until a full year had passed that it all
felt normal to me.  In much the same way expectant parents had 9
months to grow used to the idea of caring for a new life, it took a
kind of pregnancy period for me to become a father that Trisha could
depend on.  A span of time in which thunderstorms, bee stings, wet
beds, and squished spiders strengthened the bonds of our awkward
little family.  Now it was changing all over again.
      
      As I had said, I felt like a love struck schoolboy, and like
every schoolboy, that love was initiated by physical lust.  Those
little budding breasts and that bald baby smooth slit she showed off,
had driven me to masturbating into her panties.  There was no love in
that act, just as there had been no love the night I had spent with
Trisha's mother or those two times I fucked Daisy.  Under different
circumstances I could have grown to love her mother, and I may still
grow to love Daisy, but with those two, just as with the other half-
dozen women I'd had in my life, there was never any real love.  It
was all lust up until now.
      
      Now I had a lovely young woman in my home, somebody who I
cared for as dearly as I cared for my own mother, who was lusting for
me, and I was absolutely hesitant to touch her until she requested it
of me directly.  I had every opportunity last night to molest her
sleeping body, and indeed I took great care in wiping the fluids from
her thighs and vulva, but that wasn't a sexual act to me.  In those
moments when I dried her, those folds of flesh weren't just another
pussy for me to assert my masculinity over, but the private,
intimate, body parts of my own daughter.  Yes I had brief fantasies
of penetrating into them, but I could never fully separate those
thoughts with the reality that some day my grandchildren would pass
back through them.  It was considering this sort of thing that gave
me peace of mind about my own intentions.
      
      No matter how sexy she grew up to be, no matter how much she
flirted or provoked me as she'd done already this week, my lust for
her would always be trumped by my duty, love, and respect for her as
her father.  Be it tomorrow with me, in the next few years with some
boy, or her wedding night with her husband, the decision to lose her
virginity was Trisha's alone, and that was something that I felt
committed to accepting without jealousy, disappointment, or pressure.
      
      "Daddy?"  I looked up from the book that I was barely reading
and saw Trisha standing there in the doorway in her usual nighttime
attire.  She had a troubled look on her face.  "C-can I ask you about
something?"
      
      "Sure ,sweetheart.  C'mon up here," I said patting the bed.  I
could see her looking at my midsection, no doubt wondering if I was
nakedly post-orgasmic again tonight.  She kept up this scrutinizing
look as she hopped up beside me, again, as days before, her shirt
hung down as she crawled towards me, affording me a look at her
little pink peaks.
      
      "Um, well...you know, how you said you did that or-org-orgasm
thing after you, uh, played with your willy?"  I was pretty impressed
without how she just came out and asked me with less hesitation than
earlier at dinner, and with quite a bit of eye contact as well.
      
      "Yes..." I answered her, prodding her forward with the
inflection in my voice.
      
      "Uh, well, I...the other night," she sputtered, visibly
shrinking back from her boldness seconds ago.  The very personal
nature of what she was about to say, was highly apparent.  "...I...is
it ok...if I...I tried..."  Her hands were wringing about nervously
in her lap and her voice was getting progressively smaller as she
looked for the courage to say something to me.  I took her hand in
mine, making her jolt with a bit of surprise as she nearly drew back
in nervous panic, but she could see I was only trying to comfort her.
"I'm really nervous daddy...it's almost too embarrassing to say..."
      
      "It's ok, sweetheart," I assured her, noticing just how sweaty
her hand was in mine.  "Nothing you say will make me think you're bad
or naughty or make me want to tease you.  Just calm down, take a deep
breath, and tell me what has you so worked up."  She looked up at me,
and I touched my hand to her cheek, feeling how hot she'd gotten.
      
      "I t-t-touched myself..." and with just that I could see some
of that tension melt out of her, though her hand clenched mine more
tightly.  "...b-but, I d-didn't do that o-orgasm thing like you
said..."  Well I already knew that she indeed had, because I saw it
with my own eyes last night, and Daisy had testified to witnessing
many others.  Maybe she didn't want to admit that too...or, maybe,
she didn't know that's what she had done.
      
      "I see..." I said, admittedly a little lost on where to go
from here.  "Well, it's um, it's really normal for a girl your age to
masturbate," and I saw the question on her face when I spoke the m-
word.  "That's what it's called when somebody plays with them self,
you masturbated."  I paused for a moment to let her think about that
word.  "And when a girl as young as you masturbates, it might feel
really good, but you won't have an orgasm yet."
      
      "O-oh...w-what about c-c-cum?"  I shot her an eyebrow as she
used the grown up term, and she wiggled about in place, fidgeting as
she felt trapped by knowing she'd have to reveal some of her fun with
Daisy to explain how she knew that word.
      
      "Where did you learn that word, Trisha?" I asked her.
      
      "D-Daisy, daddy..."  I appreciated her honesty, but I knew she
wouldn't spill the beans if she could get out of it, and I kind of
wanted to let her keep her secret.
      
      "Daisy told me, honey," and I saw her eyes squeeze shut while
wishing herself invisible, "that you asked her a few things about
growing up, including some private things that she wouldn't share
with me.  Is that how you learned that word?"  She looked up at me
with a flush of relief, nodding vigorously to agree with my version
of events.
      
      "Y-yes, daddy...she told me that w-when I got w-w-wet and felt
really nice...I came and made girl cum..."  I was getting a better
idea now of what confusions she had in her head.
      
      "You know how 'willy' and 'fanny' are silly words for private
parts?" I asked her, which got a nod in agreement.  "Ok, well 'cum'
is a silly word like those two, but it can mean different things at
the same time."  Her furrowed brow begged for explanation.  "'Cum' is
a grown-up silly word, and we use it to mean both orgasm, and the
liquids that come out of our bodies during sex."
      
      "So...you mean that my wet stuff is called cum...just like
your sticky sperm stuff is called cum too?"
      
      "That's right."
      
      "And if I...came?  That means I...made wet stuff?" she asked,
stitching the concepts together, if perhaps a bit unevenly.
      
      "No, sweetheart, that means you had an orgasm."  She looked at
me with some surprise when I told her that.
      
      "B-but, daddy...I didn't squirt like you do...I just got
really wet in my fanny."
      
      "That's because you're a girl, honey.  Boys squirt sperm out
of their penis, girls don't squirt when they orgasm."  Not exactly
true, I know, but it wasn't anything she needed to know or be
confused about.
      
      "So...why do I make all that wet stuff then?" she asked me,
genuinely puzzled.
      
      "That's to make sex easier and feel better.  If your vagina
didn't get wet, it would hurt a lot for a penis to go inside it."
      
      "It's really messy," she pouted a bit, without quite realizing
she'd referenced one of her secrets this week.
      
      "Kind of like spilling water on your bed," I offered to her as
analogy, which she half-nodded in agreement with before catching that
I was using her own explanation for the need to wash my sheets.  The
comfortable mood she'd gotten into with this sex-ed discussion,
turned into some embarrassment and she hung her head.
      
      "I'm sorry, daddy."
      
      "It's ok, honey.  You cleaned up after yourself, and I'm not
mad.  You've gotten very responsible lately."  That seemed to
encourage her to resume eye contact with me.
      
      "But I didn't tell you the truth about it."
      
      "It's ok, sweetheart.  I know it was probably very
embarrassing for you, and you didn't want to tell me about it because
you thought I would punish you."
      
      "I didn't like when you yelled at me that night...I was scared
you'd yell at me again for doing naughty things with my fanny."  The
old specter of genital shame was rearing it's head.
      
      "Trisha, there is nothing wrong with masturbating, ok?  I do
it, you do it, your mom did it, I'm sure Daisy does it...pretty much
everybody does it, ok?  But it's a private thing, like going to the
bathroom, and might make some people uncomfortable to talk about. 
Places on your body, like your fanny and your breasts are not bad
places, but they too can make people uncomfortable when they see them
suddenly or without asking.  They're private places, just like my
penis, and that's what made me upset.  You grabbed that part of me
without permission.  You wouldn't like it if I started touching you
in your private places if I didn't have permission, would you?"
      
      "No," she sighed, perhaps thinking that's exactly what she
wouldn't mind if I was doing to her.
      
      "So you understand now.  I wasn't angry that you showed me
your new breasts the night before, and I wasn't angry that you showed
me your fanny the next night, but when you started trying to feel my
private parts without my consent, that is what made me angry, and I'm
sorry that I yelled at you."
      
      "Ok."
      
      "I love you, sweetheart, and I think every part of you is
beautiful and you should not be ashamed of it, but especially now
that you're turning into a woman, you should be aware that your body
can make grown men like me think and want to do bad things to you, so
be mindful of your actions."  That got a big grin on her face.
      
      "You mean I got your willy hard, don't you?"  I couldn't deny
it.  She had felt it herself after all.
      
      "Yes, sweetheart.  I got an erection looking at you, but it's
not nice to tease boys or men like that.  They might get the wrong
idea and hurt you or touch you without your permission."
      
      "That's called rape, isn't it daddy?"  I had to raise an
eyebrow there.
      
      "Yes it is, how do you know what rape is?"  That made her
withdraw a little.  "Trisha, did somebody try to do something with
you?"
      
      "No, daddy...I heard mum say it once, and I asked her what it
meant.  She said it was when a bad person touches your privates and
it hurts a lot and makes you sad."  I got the feeling there was more
to the anecdote than that, but I saw Trisha yawn, and glanced at the
clock, 12:30.
      
      "I think you should get to bed, honey.  You've got a big day
with Daisy tomorrow."
      
      "Ok, daddy," she said, leaning over atop me to give me a hug
and kissing my cheek.  I couldn't help noticing there was a much
softer feel to her chest as she pushed her baby breasts against my
body.  I rubbed her back thinking that this might be one of the last
times I don't feel a strap across it.  She sat up, and with a sort of
crooked smile looked at me.  "Uh, daddy...would it be ok if I used a
towel under me...so I don't mess my bed like before?"  Her cheeks
were a nice rosy color, as she studied the designs on my wooden
headboard to avoid looking at me.
      
      "Sure, sweetheart, that's fine."
      
      "OK, thanks daddy, g'night!" she chirped and beat a hasty
retreat out of the room.  I could tell by the creak of the
floorboards that she had gone past her bedroom door to the bathroom,
and another creak shortly after that signaled that she had passed
over the spot again, followed by the sound of her door closing.  I
suppose I felt somewhat proud of myself, getting her able to feel
comfortable in asking and confiding in me some personal secrets.  I
had half a mind to get up and go listen in at her door, but just the
knowledge enough that my little girl was happily, healthily, and
hygienically enjoying her body and its ability to produce pleasure
was enough to induce an erection.  As it turned out I didn't have to
go listen at her door anyways.  Within 10 minutes a faint squealing
moan found its way to my ears, and assisted in my own blissful climax.
      
      
      ==10==
      
      "Daddywakeup!" was the phrase that cruelly dragged me out of
my slumber, and was immediately followed by 65 lbs of little girl
leaping atop me.  I rolled onto my back and looked up at the grinning
proto-nymphet straddling my body, already dressed and with perhaps a
hint of too much make-up on her face.
      
      "Wha-what time is it, honey?" I asked her groggily.
      
      "8:30 daddy, Daisy will be here in a half an hour!" she said,
bouncing lightly on my stomach.  "Getup getup getup!" she chanted,
her enthusiasm adding a slight thrusting motion to her hips which she
was entirely unaware of what that sight evoked in me.
      
      "Ok, ok," I said, rolling onto my side again, making her fall
giggling onto the bed next to me.  I half-pretended to fall back
asleep, producing an annoyed whine from her lips, which started
kissing my nose, cheek, and forehead.
      
      "Get up daddy, or I'll keep doing this!" she threatened.
      
      "You promise?" I asked her with a smile on my face.
      
      "Daddyyyy...c'mon!  If you're not up in 5 minutes, I won't
show you the pretty things I buy today."  Now that was a threat, and
one she felt pretty certain would get me up...er, wake me up.
      
      "Fine-"
      
      "Yay!  I'll go start breakfast!" she interrupted me, and then
rushed out of the room.  The kid-on-Christmas-morning-like adrenaline
rush was surging through her today.  I sat up and stretched before
swinging my legs out of bed.  I put on my comfortable house pants,
and could smell the little breakfast sausages cooking as I made my
way to the bathroom.  Trisha was certainly going all out today.
      
      My bladder having been emptied, I came out to the dining area.
Trisha was standing on her little step stool in front of the stove,
mixing up some pancake batter in her little apron.  I couldn't help
thinking what an awesome wife she would make for a lucky guy some day
as I took my seat at the table and watched her.  She glanced over her
shoulder and saw at me watching her.
      
      "What are you looking at, daddy?" she asked me, bemused by my
attention.
      
      "Nothing honey...just you...you look like a little wife."
      
      "D-daddy!" she blushed, flustered at the suggestion.  I
started to get up from my seat.  "Do you need something, daddy?" she
asked.
      
      "I was just going to get the newspaper, honey," I told her. 
She hopped down from the stool and came over to me, putting her hands
on my arm, and gently pushing me back into my seat.
      
      "I'll get it for you daddy," she said, and not taking no for
an answer, she hustled her cute butt to the front door.  I certainly
didn't mind the pampering attentiveness she was showing me, but I
wondered why it was being shown.  In to time at all, she was back,
delivering the paper onto the table in front of me, and got right
back up on the step stool, pouring the pancake batter onto the
griddle.  I watched with amusement as she flitted about the kitchen
like a humming bird, setting the table, pouring me some coffee she'd
apparently brewed shortly after getting up, flipping the pancakes,
serving the sausages and my pancakes, and then cooking some for
herself.
      
      She sighed as she sat down, finally getting a moment's rest
after 10 minutes of straight work.  I'd just finished my pancakes as
she was digging in, and she glared at me as I speared and ate little
sausage after little sausage.
      
      "Daddy, you're eating them all!" she pouted in protest. 
"Leave some bangers for me!" and she speared 3 at once with her fork,
popping the one on the end into her mouth with a grin of
accomplishment.
      
      "Careful, princess," I said teasingly, "eat too much and you
won't fit in everything you buy today."  That certainly got an
annoyed reaction from her.  She was a very fit young lady, and she
knew it.  Weight was, for now anyways, an ok subject to joke about.
      
      "Shush daddy, I'm growing and need to eat!" she retorted with
a haughty air about her, and pushed out her chest to emphasize her
area of recent growth.  She only held that pose for a moment before
seeing my grin and dissolving into giggles herself.  I occupied
myself with the paper and my coffee as she ate, and with almost
perfect timing, the doorbell rang as Trisha was setting her dish in
the sink.  She shrieked with excitement and ran to the door, opening
it before I could even stand up.
      
      The door swung open, and there was Daisy, dressed now in more
casual clothes, looking every bit like the teenage girl that she was,
in contrast to her mature look at the office.  Accompanying her was a
younger girl, older than Trisha though, but resembling Daisy quite a
bit.
      
      "Hi, we're here!" sang Daisy, with the girl echoing her
greeting a fraction of a second behind.
      
      "Come in," I said, getting up to greet them.  They came in,
and I could see Trisha looked conflicted a little.  She had been so
hyper before, that I was certain she was going to pounce on Daisy
like she had done to me this morning already, but with this
additional guest, she seemed restrained.
      
      "Alan, Trisha, this is my little sister, Krista," Daisy said,
introducing us all.
      
      "Hello," Krista said, offering Trisha her hand, which was
accepted with slight trepidation...jealousy maybe?
      
      "Hi," Trisha said, a little muted.  I stepped forward and
offered my own hand to the girl.
      
      "Pleased to meet you, Krista," I said.  I noticed a rather
large smile on her face as she shook my hand, maybe even a twinkle of
mischief like her big sister had been displaying to me the last two
days.
      
      "Me too, Mr. Beaumont," she said, then turned to Trisha.  "Can
I see your room?" she asked my daughter, who looked at Daisy and me
for a moment, before answering.
      
      "Ok, this way," she said, and led the way for the two of them.
Once they had gotten out of sight, Daisy threw her arms around my
neck and pressed her lips up to me.
      
      "So, anything happen with you two yet?" she asked me, hungry
for details.  Too bad for her there were none.
      
      "Hate to disappoint," I told her, which made her brow furrow.
      
      "Jeez, I encouraged her and everything on the phone yesterday
too.  You shoulda heard her breathing into the phone as I described
all the fun you and I had earlier at work!"  I jerked my head back
from her and stared at her like she was crazy.
      
      "Y-y-you what?!"  I asked her, completely astonished.  Daisy
just laughed.
      
      "I'm kidding, just kidding.  You should have seen your face
just now.  I couldn't resist."  I sighed in some relief, the last
thing I needed this week was Trisha finding out that I was screwing
her babysitter and new best friend in the supply room at work.  "I
did learn something from her though.  She told me that Thursday night
she had a dream where you and I were naked and rubbing on each other.
A dream!  Can you believe that?"  Well, that explained her apparent
lack of memory the day after/
      
      "I can understand it.  Seeing something like that, just after
waking up and then falling asleep immediately after, thinking it was
all made up.  She's still just a little girl, Daisy," I offered as an
explanation.
      
      "Yeah, a little girl that is just aching to get stuffed with
her daddy's meat.  I'm telling you, she's ready and willing."
      
      "Yeah, well, she needs to tell me that."  Daisy sighed at my
resistance.
      
      "Fine...I guess you'll just have to use me for sex a little
longer then," she lamented, though sounding completely unconvincing
about it.  "I guess we should get this show on the road before Krista
convinces Trisha to lay in bed all day with her legs spread.  The
girl's got a magic little mouth on her," Daisy revealed to me with a
wink.  I could only chuckle.  These Barton girls had something
special in their gene pool.
      
      "C'mon, ladies, let's move it," Daisy called out.  It was a
minute or two before we heard Trisha's door latch, during which Daisy
was groping my cock through my pants.  She promptly stopped though,
and appearances were kept.  There was a smirk on Krista's face, and a
bit of a flush on Trisha's when she looked at me, though the excess
make-up she had been wearing earlier was now gone, and she looked
more like a cute tween now than an aspiring hooker.
      
      "D-daddy, can I have some money now?" she asked me, pushing
aside whatever had just transpired between her and Krista moments ago
and getting down to the business at hand.  I retrieved my wallet and
checkbook.
      
      "Here's what I'm going to do.  I'm going to write a check to
Daisy for $150, ok?  That's the $100 we talked about last night, and
another $50 for my present to you today.  She'll cash it and give you
the money, and I don't want to hear about you begging her for
anything out of her own pocket, got it?"
      
      "Yes, daddy," Trisha agreed readily.  I cut the check and
handed it, plus $25 in cash to Daisy.  "That's for gas and lunch for
you three.  Don't let her talk you into anything you can't afford, no
matter how cute she makes herself," I advised Daisy, which prompted a
chagrinned Trisha to hit my arm.  "Daddyyy, stop it!" she whined.
      
      "Don't worry, Alan.  I think we'll have a great time today,"
Daisy assured me, though the way she looked at me while she said it
made me wonder if 'we' referred to the three of them, or her and I
alone...but where might such an opportunity present itself?  I mulled
that over as I kissed Trisha's cheek and watched the three of them
head out the door.  Daisy apparently wanted just a tad more alone
time with me as well, since she lagged behind.
      
      "See you later?" I asked her.
      
      "Fuck yeah," she replied with a grin, and hurried to her car. 
I watched them drive off, and closed the door, alone in my house for
the first time in 2 years.  Waiting the next couple of hours for them
to come back was going to drive me crazy.
      
      ***
      
      The first phone call was at 10:30, wherein Trisha was
excitedly gushing to me over the phone that she had measured as a
30AA and was now the proud owner, and wearer of a training bra.
      
      The next phone call was at noon.  My daughter, who had never
worn anything but a one-piece since she'd first stepped in the
Australian surf, excitedly told me that she had just purchased a
bikini.  Daisy assured me that it was quite appropriate in appearance
for a girl her age.
      
      Another call came in at 3.  They'd just left a beauty salon
and were headed to a movie.  I couldn't get any details about what
kind of little movie star I'd be welcoming home tonight, but in
Krista's words, Trisha was a "total knock-out."
      
      Finally, 5:30, Daisy called to say they were on their way
home, but had one more stop to make.  She wouldn't elaborate at all,
but did ask if I had eaten yet.  Aside from a light snack an hour
earlier, she had nothing to worry about there.
      
      From that point on, I was pacing back and forth, stomach
complaining the whole time.  The sound of an engine in the driveway
made it growl the loudest, as I was certain they had brought dinner. 
Hurried footsteps up to the door and I got my first look at Trisha,
the young woman of the day.
      
      The smile on her face was something that no amount of money
could buy.  Her normally plain long hair had been cut to her
shoulders and curled into several little ringlets.  Her skin glowed
from the salon treatments it had received, and as she handed me a
pair of Chinese food boxes, I saw too that her nails had been painted
and manicured.  Once her hands were free, she pulled up her shirt and
very happily displayed for me the very plain, but adorable little bra
she had chosen as her first.
      
      "I got 5 more!" she enthused, before pulling her shirt down
and running back out to the car to gather her bags while Daisy and
Krista brought in the rest of our Chinese feast.  For the next hour
we ate and laughed together, filling the house for the first time
since Trisha came to live with me with some kind of noise that wasn't
created by a TV set.  I was filled by a sense that tonight was one
that neither Trisha nor I wanted to end early.
      
      
      ==11==
      
      After we'd finished eating, Daisy and Krista bid us goodbye
and left for home, leaving just Trisha and I alone in the house after
a busy day without each other's company.  While I cleared the table
and tended to the dishes, Trisha disappeared into her room with the
multitude of bags she'd brought home.  My work in the kitchen was
finished quickly and I headed back to my bedroom to straighten up in
anticipation of a visit from Daisy later after Trisha had gone to
bed.  I had just finished making the bed when I heard a noise behind
me.  I turned and there was Trisha in the doorway.
      
      "Um, daddy...do you wanna...see?"
      
      "See?  See what, honey?"
      
      "My uh...my bra..."
      
      "You showed it to me when you got home, remember?" I reminded
her.
      
      "Y-yeah, but this one is different..."  Who was I to turn down
such an offer?  Admittedly I liked her better topless, but I wasn't
going to force her to my will.
      
      "Okay," I said, and sat down on the side of the bed and looked
at her expectantly.  As I'd expected, she looked away from my gaze,
but she didn't back down.  She took a few steps towards me, paused a
second as she gripped the bottom of her shirt, and then pulled it
over her head and then held it behind her back as she pushed out her
preteen chest at me.
      
      While the first bra she had shown me a little over an hour
earlier was of the halter top style, not lending to too much skin
being exposed across her upper chest, this one had a much more
classic design.  Each little puffy bump had it's own "cup" that was
held in place by the usual system of straps and clasps.  At a glance
she certainly didn't appear to need anything at all, since she
virtually had nothing at all, but given my privileged front row seat
to her young body, I could see how each little lump did their best to
push back at their respective coverings for a nice round little
bulging effect.
      
      "D-do you like it, daddy?" she asked, almost cringing in
anticipation that I might respond negatively.  She obviously was not
a mind reader nor did she have x-ray vision that would have let her
see my erection inside my pants.
      
      "It's pretty honey.  You look grow up with it on."  That got
me some eye contact from her, with her face lighting up into a broad
smile.
      
      "Really daddy?  I look grown up like Daisy and Krista do?"
      
      "W-well..." I stuttered, she didn't look THAT grown up. 
"...in your own way...yes..."  She got my meaning despite my hesitant
wording and put her hands over her little boobs with a pout.
      
      "I know I'm small, daddy...you don't need to remind me..." 
She was silent a moment as her expression and mannerisms gave me a
little insight into her thoughts.  From determination to excitement
to fear and back to determination, she finally turned her eyes up to
meet mine and lowered her hands to her sides.  "Wou-would you...t-t-
...would you..." she closed her eyes, shook her head from side to
side, and took a deep breath before looking up at me again, courage
in her eyes.  "Will you touch my b-breasts, daddy?"  I couldn't
really say I was shocked, but I did regard her a little warily for a
moment.
      
      "Are you sure about what you're asking me, Trisha?"
      
      "Y-yes!" she confirmed, almost yelling the word with
conviction before settling down some.  "It's ok, daddy.  It's not
rape, like we talked about last night...I give you permission to
touch my breasts an-" she stopped herself, a look of uncertainty
holding her back from continuing.
      
      "And?" I prompted.
      
      "N-nothing...I just want you to touch me, daddy."  I had a
feeling she had almost invited me under her skirt, but I knew the
rules I'd set for myself; she didn't ask, so I wouldn't jump the gun.
She was looking up at me, both scared and expectant, so when I raised
my hand and moved it towards her slender torso, she squeezed her eyes
shut and braced herself for a much stronger impact than I was
intending to make.
      
      To say that she was surprised when my hand touched her cheek
was an understatement.  She positively hopped a few inches into the
air and gasped as though she had been holding her breath.
      
      "Trisha Abigail McClaren Beaumont," I said, using her full
name, which I had last done that second night when scolding her for
grabbing my cock in bed, "I would love to touch your breasts."  She
stared at me, wide-eyed, body starting to tremble as I moved my hand
from her cheek, down to her collar bone, and then sliding to cover
her bra and left breast, her heart beating wildly beneath.  Although
not having been visible, I could feel her excited little nipple
pushing against the patch of fabric.  I pressed down and moved my
hand slightly, causing the cup to rub against that sensitive
protrusion and Trisha to whimper and wriggle.
      
      "Daddy..." she protested weakly, the friction being a little
too much for her.  To my surprise, she reached behind her back and
undid the clasp, the bra going slack upon her torso.  "...that rubs
on me too much when you touch."  I slipped a finger under the cup and
pulled it away from her, exposing her little bumps to me for the 2nd
time this week, but allowing me to touch them for the first.  I knew
her body would be soft and warm, just as it had been 2 nights ago
when I had cradled her half-naked sexually exhausted and satisfied
body in my arms, but the first touch of my daughter's breast was
still a moment of wonder and excitement for me.  Her too, it seemed.
      
      "Daddy...I think...I think I need...to go to my room..." she
said with breathless excitement.  I noticed she couldn't stand still,
almost like she was walking in place, an odd version of the 'potty
dance.'
      
      "Why, honey?  What's wrong?"
      
      "B-because...m-my fanny is...it's getting wet...I want to rub
it daddy..."  I was so tempted to throw her on my bed and rub her
bald pussy for her, but I knew better and made the suggestion instead.
      
      "You don't have to go, Trisha.  You can stay here with me." 
She hadn't looked me in the eye since her shirt came off, but all of
a sudden I was a lot more interesting than the carpet.  I noticed her
hand was on her belly, trying to snake it's way lower, but she was
fighting the urge in my presence.
      
      "B-but...you said it was private...not something you do in
front of other people..." she sputtered, obviously conflicted between
staying and what I had taught her last night.
      
      "Then don't do it in front of me," I said, making her
confused.  "Let me do it for you."  As my offer was processed through
her brain, I could see the desire for this encounter painted all over
her face.  She moved her twitching hand away from her waist, and
stood quietly, awkwardly, waiting for me to have my way with her.  I
reached for her waist, and I could see her body tense in preparation
for the immediate sexual contact she was expecting.  It must have
been torture for her then that I was only reaching for the button on
her skirt to remove it.
      
      The pleated strip of cloth fell to her feet, and I could now
see that her panties were damp in the front and were sticking to her
anatomy.  I put my hands to her hips and pulled down on the
waistband.  Although I'd dressed her just two nights earlier,
covering her naked sensitive post-orgasmic cunny with white panties
similar to those she was wearing now, it was in no way the same
experience as taking them off for the purpose of pleasuring her body.
The upper fabric moved easily and readily exposed her still narrow
hips and upper pubic mound.  She shifted her feet to open her legs
and the crotch of her panties came away from her slit only when
pulled down.
      
      Trisha, though naked and horny, still felt self-conscious
about me seeing her body, and covered her bald slit with her hand. 
Self control was no match for the feeling of her hand between her
legs, and she started to rub her slit.  I took her less busy hand and
pulled her towards me and the bed, which she climbed upon without
ceasing her masturbating.  I laid her down on her back, and spread
her legs.  She couldn't stand to look at me while I positioned her,
the whole situation running contrary to her learned behavior, but
still her hand never stopped frigging away.  It was enough to make me
wonder if I had made a mistake and this was too fast for her.
      
      "Trisha?"  She didn't look at me, and though her hand didn't
stop, her expression wasn't particularly a happy one.  I saw a tear
fall out the corner of her eye and trickle down the side of her nose.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" I asked, and she curled up in a ball.  I
put my hand around her shoulder and sat her up, holding her close to
me.  She buried her face in my chest and cried.  "Trisha, honey, I'm
sorry.  We don't have to do this, I just thought you-"
      
      "I do daddy...I do..." she said.
      
      "Then why are you so upset, honey?"
      
      "I don't want you to be mad at me, daddy.  I don't want you to
think I'm bad or strange to want it."  I was a little confused.
      
      "I don't honey.  We talked about this last night, remember? 
How it's ok when both people want to do these private things
together."
      
      "R-right...but...I want more things...more things now..."
      
      "Trisha, what do you want that is so bad?" I asked her.  She
pulled back from me, and looked at my face, her lips trembling as the
words came out.
      
      "F-fuck me."  Before I could respond, she bolted from me and
my bed and I heard her bedroom door slam, leaving behind the new
clothes and underwear she had so eagerly wanted to model for me.
      
      ***
      
      I had considered pursuing her, finding out what went wrong,
but I decided to give her some space and to work out whatever anxiety
she had developed with regards to asking me to be her first.  It was
about an hour until I heard her door open, and the floorboards creak.
I had already relocated myself to the living room by then, but I
could tell she had gone to my bedroom.  There was a brief pause
before I heard the floor creak again, and she emerged into view from
the hall in her pajamas.
      
      "Hi, sweetheart," I said, as though nothing had taken place. 
"Are you feeling better?"
      
      "Y-yes daddy..." she answered meekly, a crooked smile forcing
it's way to her lips.  "Could I stay up a little late with you?"
      
      "Sure, honey.  C'mon over," I said, moving the newspaper off
the couch beside me.  She practically bounced over to my side and
snuggled in.  I recognized this behavior again as her way of
reassuring herself that all was well between us once again, even
though this conflict was one that seemed to be entirely contained
within her mind.  I wanted to talk to her about it, but I didn't have
to start the discussion.
      
      "Daddy...it's bad for you to fuck me, isn't it?"  This being
the second time I'd ever heard her swear, my eyebrows raised in
surprise, not just for that reason, but also because of the question.
      
      "There are several laws against it, honey."
      
      "Because of my age...right?"
      
      "That...and because I'm your father.  It's called incest."
      
      "Oh..." she said, mulling that over.  "Why is insext bad?"
      
      "Incest, honey.  It's..." You know, I had never actually
considered that question, and I had never imagined my preteen
daughter would be the one to make me answer it.  "I guess it's
because children will usually do what their parents tell them to do,
so it wouldn't be done because the child wants to do it."
      
      "But...I want to...but I don't want to make you bad."  There
we had it.  She was feeling guilty about asking me to break the
law...nevermind that we'd already somewhat crossed that line when I
felt her up earlier.
      
      "You aren't making me bad," I told her, getting her to look up
at me.  "Sex is something that two people have to agree to do.  You
want to have sex with me, and I..." I could see she was hanging on my
words.  "...I want to have sex with you, Trisha."
      
      "Really?!" she asked excitedly, sitting up, nearly jumping
into my lap.  "So it's ok?!  We can do it?!"  While I was encouraged
by her enthusiasm, I felt like maybe she was getting way ahead of
herself.
      
      "You have to understand something first, honey," I told her,
tempering her excitement.  "If we did have sex, I could be in big
trouble if anybody were to ever find out.  Just because you want it,
and I want it, doesn't mean it isn't illegal."
      
      "But it's ok right?  I want it, so it's not rape and it's ok,
right?" she asked, a little desperate to hang onto my consenting tone.
      
      "It's ok, Trisha.  You just can't tell anybody that we do it."
      
      "Even Daisy?"  I had to smile.
      
      "Honey, I think Daisy already knows what both of us want to
do."  She looked at me with a question forming in her head, but her
eyes widened as soon as she answered it for herself.
      
      "D-Daisy told you?!" she asked with a voice equal parts
horrified and shocked.  Before I could come clean with her on Daisy's
involvement in this whole situation, Trisha got the full meaning of
my words, and had to ask, "How does Daisy know that you want to have
sex with me?"
      
      "Well...Daisy and I, since the night that she came over to
stay with you...we've been...sharing a lot of things."  While I
certainly knew Trisha was smart enough to figure out exactly what
that meant, I wasn't sure how she might take the news that her father
was screwing her new friend, role model, and mentor.
      
      "Are you having sex with her, daddy?"  The question was point
blank and I could tell she seemed to know already, but was just
seeking confirmation.
      
      "Yes."  Trisha was silent a moment, as though she was
integrating that into her picture of the last week.
      
      "On my bed?"  I had been wondering if that whole scene had
remained within her sleep and orgasm groggy brain from that night,
and it seemed that some part of it had.
      
      "Yes, honey."
      
      "A-and...she was...she was calling you 'daddy'..."  That
wasn't so much a question from her as it was a memory, one that I
could tell had been something of a puzzle to her.  "I woke up on your
bed...Daisy and I had been talking about stuff and I guess I fell
asleep there.  I could hear noises from my room, so I got up, and
went there...I saw you on top of her, moving...my fanny got...it
really tickled and I pushed my panties down and I...I think I played
with myself while I watched you..."  I could only nod in agreement
with her view of events that night.  "That all...it all really
happened, didn't it?"
      
      "Yeah, it did."
      
      "Wow...I thought it was a dream.  I told Daisy about it, and
she just laughed and said I was in need of a good fuck...sorry,
daddy, I keep saying that bad word."
