Daughter of Eve

(Inspired by Fredrick)

I suppose I was a bit naïve to think that when my 23 year old daughter, Sara, moved out and into her own small house, that it would mean a reduction in the support that she got from her Mom and me. Not so much financially, as she has a good job and earns more than I, but almost every week since she moved in I've had to go around and do some work on the place.

About a month ago, I came to the end of a three week stint, during which time I had wallpapered her two bedrooms and painted the living room ceiling. I would go around Sara's place every night after work, and not get back home until past ten. As I was about to leave on that last night, Sara called me into the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big squeeze, saying how much she loved me, and what a great job I'd done. I told her it was my pleasure. And that was the truth. Sara had always been a good girl, and had never given either me or her Mom any reason to chastise her the way most other parents had had to do with their kids.

Sara said that as a thank-you she would like to have me round the next night as her dinner guest. Now Sara is a great cook, and I told her that her Mom and I would be delighted to attend. At that point, my daughter said that she would love to have both of us over some time next week, but that tomorrow would be a special evening just for me, by way of gratitude for all the work I had done; and still to do, she joked. She made me promise that I would be there for seven the following night, and told me positively that there would be no work involved. I told her that I would be honoured to come, and gave her a goodnight peck on the cheek before setting off for home.

Next day, I finished at the insurance office where I work at about five, went home, showered, and changed into some comfortable slacks and a shirt. Then I set off for Sara's at about six-thirty, having said goodbye to my wife, who was extremely jealous that she hadn't been invited and was going to miss out on a good meal.

I arrived at Sara's bang on seven. I opened the front door with my own key and entered the living room. Sara was not there so I shouted to let her know that I was here. Her voice rang out from the kitchen. She told me to sit on the couch and said that she would be in to join me very soon.

It was a beautifully warm night, and as I made myself comfortable on the plush sofa, I found myself nodding off. I was awoken with a start by Sara's voice behind me. As I sat up suddenly, I turned to my right and saw my daughter leaning over the back of the couch, her right hand outstretched holding a tray on which were balanced two drinks.

'Just as you like it, sir', she said, in a mock trolley dolly voice, 'white rum and coke on the rocks'.

I hesitated for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a few seconds. It was not because I didn't want the drink; in fact, it was just what I wanted on such a hot night. No, I wavered because of the vision of my daughter before me. Her normally long, wavy, chestnut hair was piled high up on her head. She was wearing going-out make-up around her eyes and cheek bones, and her full lips were a violent slash of red. My gaze went down her long, aquiline neck and onto her square, flawless shoulders. From them hung two slender straps. My eyes automatically followed them down to the slivers of black velvet that barely covered her well proportioned breasts. It was a male's normal animal reaction that made me crane my neck in an effort to see beyond the flimsy material. As her right aureole came into view, I felt a little twitch in my groin. It was brown and large; about the diameter of a coffee saucer. Sara gave a discrete cough, which brought me to my senses, and I reached up and took the proffered drink.

I thought I sensed the hint of a smug smile as she moved around from the back of the couch to sit on the chair opposite. She put the tray and her glass on a small table beside the chair and turned around to sit down. It was only then that I realised that her floor-length dress was slit down the right side. I don't mean a slit from ankle to knee, nor even from ankle to mid-thigh. No, her dress was split right the way up to her the hip.

Sara sat down on the chair slowly. I tried to fight it, but my eyes were glued to her long legs as she slowly crossed right over left. The material to the lower side of the slit fell to the floor, whilst that to the left almost fell off Sara's legs completely. My daughter picked up a piece of the material that still clung to her legs. I thought that she was going to pull it so that she showed only a modest amount of thigh. But no. Instead, she threw it to the floor, leaving both of her long, shapely legs entirely exposed to her father's gaze.

Now I know that it was wrong of me to become aroused, but how many guys reading this can honestly say that they would have averted their eyes? I can tell you the answer; not too many!! All fathers look at their daughters when they are dressed provocatively. The male instinct to procreate is much stronger than the modern taboo which says that a female relative is out of bounds.

I tried to look at my drink, at the wall, the floor, the ceiling. Anywhere but at the body of my little girl sitting opposite me. But it was no good. Every piece of skin that was exposed shone as though she had covered herself in a thin veil of perspiration. I just wanted to go over to her and fondle those long, lithe limbs. And then, as if to tease me even further, as though she were even doing this on purpose, Sara asked me if I liked the dress, stating very clearly that she had bought it especially for tonight. I coughed a little as I realised that she had caught me staring at her, and commented that it was very pretty. She then informed me that the high heeled black ankle strap sandals that she wore were also part of the ensemble. As if my gaze needed to be drawn to them, Sara started to swing her raised foot, suggestively.

She engaged me in small talk, but much to my disgust the swelling in my pants refused to go away. I made a clumsy and obvious attempt to cover my shame, but this just seemed to make Sara want to tease me even more. She leaned over to her left to put her glass on the floor beside the chair, knowing full well that the table to her right was much nearer. The whole purpose of which it appeared was to allow the split in her dress to expose almost all of her right hip. I took a sip of the rum and coke to whet my mouth; it had suddenly become bone dry. With her eyes momentarily off mine, I took the opportunity to stare hard at her. Man she was beautiful. And no way could she be wearing any underwear with that dress, I remember thinking.

Then, within the blink of an eye, my daughter had uncrossed her legs and was rising from the chair. She sauntered over to me, and took my empty glass. I noticed that her long fingernails were painted the same shade of red as her lips.

'Take your seat at the table, monsieur,' this time as a French trolley dolly, 'dinner is served.'

As she walked into the kitchen, I saw that her dress was backless almost down to the crack of her ass. She must have paid a fortune for it. Outfits like that don't come cheap.

Dinner was absolutely wonderful. I tried as hard as I could not to stare at her breasts, as the bodice of her dress defied gravity and refused to expose them. But I realised that most of the time I was unconsciously trying to lean to one side or the other to get a better view.

After the entrée was finished, I remarked to Sara that it was a pity that such a lovely meal was prepared for her dad and not for a boyfriend. At that, Sara rose from the table, walked around to my side, and plonked herself in my lap. As my daughter put her arms around my shoulders, it was only natural for me to put my left hand around her waist.

'Dad, you are the most important man in the world to me,' she began, ' and you always will be.'

As she slowly moved her mouth to my right ear, I allowed my hand to drop slightly towards her exposed hip. Just as my little finger touched the bare, soft, smooth skin that covered her hips, and the swelling in my groin reappeared – probably to her notice- my daughter whispered:

'Dad, I want you to know that I'd do anything for you. Anything.'

Then she gave me a tender kiss at the corner of my mouth, and leaned back.

'And if it makes you feel any better,' she announced, 'why don't we agree that you will be my boyfriend tonight.'

I laughed and said she had a deal; I wouldn't nag her anymore.

As she stood up from my lap, I noticed a smile on her lips as she looked down at the lump that was in my pants. So she had felt it.

She took the plates into the kitchen and when she returned she handed me a large snifter of cognac. At first I refused, stating that I still had to drive home. Sara said that I was already over the limit and that I should phone her mother up to tell her that I'd be spending the night here.

'The phone's at the end of the couch,' she shouted as she walked to the staircase. 'Give Mom a ring now. I just want to show you something else I bought especially for tonight.'

With that she disappeared upstairs.

I knew I couldn't drive, but I didn't phone my wife, figuring I could catch a cab home. Anyway, at least that meant I could drink the rather nice brandy Sara had given me. Combined with the rum and coke I'd had before dinner, and the bottle of wine that we had shared at the table, I was feeling quite squiffy as I heard the distinctive sound of my daughter's high heels coming down the stairs.

As she came into view with the words, 'What do you think?', I nearly choked on my drink. My daughter was standing not three feet in front of me. She was still wearing those sexy black, high heeled sandals, but as my eyes rose up her long, silky legs, I got to the top of her thighs before I saw a scalloped hem. Sara was wearing an ultra short, frilly black nightie held up by two thin straps. Her long hair now fell in thick wavy curls around her shoulders, and she had obviously applied more lip-gloss.

To answer her question I said that she looked stunning, but asked her whether she didn't think it was inappropriate.

'I agree it would be if you were my father tonight,' Sara began, with the hint of a smile playing on her lips, and a smouldering look in her brown eyes. 'But we've already agreed that tonight you are my boyfriend, so it's not inappropriate at all.'

Sara then asked if I'd phoned her Mom yet. I shook my head and said that it would be better if I left. Once again this was a cue for my daughter to come and place herself on my lap. Putting her arms around me, she said:

'Dad, I've seen the way you look at me. A girl knows the look of desire when she sees it in a man'

I defended myself by saying that it was difficult not to look at her like that, the way she dressed tonight. I was only human after all.

'I don't just mean tonight, Dad. Ever since I was a teenager, whenever I wore a short skirt or a tight sweater, you'd be looking at me the way you have this evening.'

I said nothing. I was too ashamed.

'Take a look around you Dad. The doors are locked, the windows are bolted and the curtains are pulled. We can do anything we like in here and nobody will ever know.'

My daughter began to run her fingers through my hair as she offered herself to me. The fact that I wasn't already up and running away from the house told us both that my mind was not as made up as it should be in these circumstances. Sara continued to tempt me:

'You know you want me Dad. And you know that I want you. Just pick up the phone and tell Mom that you're staying over. Just make that one call and you'll get full boyfriend privileges.'

I looked up at her with a quizzical expression on my face.

Sara stood up and moved a step away from me. My hard on was now highly visible through my pants, and told her more than any words could say about how right she was.

Slowly, she brought her hands up to the shoestring straps that held up her flimsy lingerie. Tantalisingly, my daughter slipped them from her shoulders, and I had to catch my breath as first of all her breasts and then her pussy came into view. I had been trying to catch a glimpse of them all night, and now they were being brazenly paraded in front of me. Their heaving told me that Sara, too, was in a high state of arousal. As she fondled her boobs with one hand, and let the other play around the neatly cropped bush around her love box, Sara said:

'Just pick up the phone, Dad, and all of this is yours.'

We both knew that there could only be one solution. Even before my hand had reached the receiver, Sara had gone to the far end of the couch. As I dialled my home number to tell my wife that I couldn't come home, because I was going to be spending the night fucking our daughter, Sara had lain down with her left leg on the floor, and the spike heel of her right sandal rubbing along my ever growing shaft.

As my wife answered, my daughter was gently biting the nail of her right forefinger in a very seductive manner. Her left forefinger was busy rubbing between the flaps of a very pink, and clearly damp, vagina. I hoped that my voice would not betray my intentions, but what wife would possibly think that a husband could be seduced by their own daughter. As our conversation came to an end, Sara, moved her hand from her mouth and motioned that she wanted the phone. With her other hand she beckoned me towards her.

By the time she had started talking to her mother, my hands were already busily caressing my daughter's legs. I had been correct. Her body glistened all over with a layer of oil. I brought my tongue to the inside of Sara's right knee, and began to slowly lick my way up her slim thigh. As I came close to the honey pot, and the sweet smell of my daughter's freshness, I heard her voice begin to falter. And then, as the tip of my tongue touched her swollen labia for the first time, her free hand came down to my head and began to knead my hair. As I licked upwards, and my tongue parted her lips, she could hold back no more. Sara quickly said goodnight to her Mom, threw the phone to the floor, and with both hands, pulled my face into her pussy. My daughter moaned loudly as I roughly bit and rubbed her clit. After a couple of minutes she was into the throes of a full orgasm.

But a woman is not like a man; she needs little time to recover. Soon, Sara was pulling me up towards her lips.

'I want to taste myself on you', she whispered.

Our mouths met in a violent embrace. Lips, tongues and teeth, sucked, licked and bit at each other. I felt her left hand move down towards my pants. I could hardly believe it; this was my very own flesh and blood that was now undoing my belt, now unbuttoning my trousers, and now feverishly groping for my enlarged glans. When I felt my daughter's hands grasp my balls for that first time, I thought I was going to come there and then. Sara refused to let me take my dick out myself; she wanted to do it. She was licking at my ear when I felt her hand pull my phallus out of its cloth prison. More than anything I wanted it to be inside her. I felt her thumb rubbing over the top of my helmet, trying to open up my slit with nail of her little finger. I knew that I wouldn't be in her very long before I shot my load. She was moving my dick around until it was in just the right position, and I heard her hot breath next to my ear as she said just one word:

'Push'.

As my hips slid forward, I felt the initial obstacle of a tight pussy give way to my attacking weapon. And then it was just ecstasy. My dick was cocooned in the warm, wet and tight space of my daughter's twat. I had to raise myself on straightened arms to see my rod pistoning in and out of her before I would allow myself to believe that I was actually fucking my own offspring. That her face was a picture of rapture made things all the more pleasurable.

I looked down at her body and realised that there was no way on earth that I could have a girl as gorgeous as her in any normal way. Sara was real centrefold material.

Her growls and yelps told me that she was close to orgasm again, and as she bucked underneath me, I lowered myself to her tits and sucked hard on her nipples. I heard her heels clicking together as they locked behind my back, and then I was ready. I began to pump her real fast. Then, just as I thought that my cock was going to spontaneously combust from the friction, the juices began to roll. I gritted my teeth to hold back as long as possible, and man, when it came, it came. I must have flooded the inside of my daughter's womb with buckets and buckets of hot salty cum.

We lay in each other's arms for about half an hour, gradually returning to normal breathing. Then Sara suggested we go to her bed. Naked except for her high heels, I followed my daughter upstairs to her room. She told me to lie on the very edge of the bed. I did as ordered. She came and stood by my side, and then, bending from the waist, she lowered her face to my groin. As her hair tumbled onto my tummy, I felt my daughter's hot, wet mouth envelop my flaccid penis. I looked sideways at her body. Her legs were slightly parted, yet arrow straight as she bent over me. Her four inch heels made her insteps appear almost vertical. Her ass was small and tight, her tummy flat, and her back had a nice inward curve.

The effect of her body on my eyes and her mouth on my prick soon had me at full size again. As my daughter's head bobbed up and down along my shaft, I stretched out my hand to move her locks out of the way of my field of vision. The sight of my dick made red from the lipstick on my daughter's face was enough. I told her I was coming and asked her to squeeze my balls. She looked up at me with just her eyes, and intimated that she had something better in mind. She was right. As she carefully inserted her right forefinger up my ass and began to move it back and forth, I knew I was going to explode immediately.

As my fluid lashed the inside of my daughter's mouth, she rolled her tongue across the tip of my penis, and forced her finger as far up my ass as it would go. I don't know where I made it all that night, but once again, I felt my prick convulse time after time as my spunk seeped out into Sara's throat. When I was all done, my daughter pulled her finger out of my asshole, wiped some of my semen from around her lips with it, and proceeded to lick it dry. She fell on top of me, kissed me goodnight, and then we both went into a deep, deep sleep.

When I awoke next morning at about 8am, the sun was dappling through the curtains onto Sara's naked body. I took a long look at her. The curvature of her spine, following on from her beautifully long neck, made her look like a goddess in repose. The mound of her ass reminded me of a soft peach. And at the end of her long legs, she still had on those sexy black high heels. I wondered whether the events of the previous night would be a one off. If that was to be the case then I wanted to make sure that I got my money's worth, so to speak.

I moved over and spread my daughter's legs a little. I looked down to see that I was once again rock hard. I then looked at her ass, and knew that I wanted to fuck it. I parted her cheeks and saw her tight little ass hole. I brought my face down, let my tongue out, and began to lick it. My daughter moaned softly in her sleep. After a couple of minutes, Sara's ass hole was good and wet. I quietly positioned myself in between her legs and rested the moist tip of my prick against it. I pressed forward with my hips, and the tip of my cock disappeared up her ass.

Sara groaned a little more loudly now. I moved my knob in and out for a while until she got used to it, then I started to let my shaft slide in. My daughter was half awake as I let her have my full length. By the time I was into my stride, my balls banging against her ass cheeks, Sarah was groaning loudly. I lowered myself onto her and began to nuzzle at her neck whilst I fucked her. It took me about ten minutes of rapid thrusting to get me to the point of no return. I had the sudden desire, like you see in porno films, to cum over my daughter's body. So, just as I was about to climax, I pulled out my meat, and directed a jet of spunk up her back and into her hair. Then, I asked her to turn her head sideways so that I could flick whatever was left in my cock onto her face. It was more than I could have hoped when I saw Sara's right hand come around to her back and begin to rub my muck into her skin.