Wayward Daughter

My daughter Lucy had always been a good student - not an excellent student, but a good one. Usually B's, the occasional A. She graduated from high school with a 3.0. Now she was 19, in her sophomore year of college, and her grades were slipping. Low C's, and even the odd D. Her mother and I had several sit-down talks with her to no avail. We suspect too much partying and not enough studying - she certainly doesn't seem to be home much, and since we lifted her curfew she has been coming home at all hours. We are getting frustrated and angry - we aren't paying out the nose for her to fritter away her education. I want to get to the bottom of this...I may have an opportunity to do a little investigation.

It's Friday night, and predictably Lucy is "meeting a friend at the library to study." At this point I can't believe she expects us to believe this brazen lie. We give her our normal suspicious goodbye, and I tell my wife my plan. "I'm going to follow her to whatever party she is going to, and when I find her I'm going to yank her out of there and give her an ultimatum - she either shapes up or she ships out."

"Brad, do you think that's a good idea?" my wife asks. "Maybe we shouldn't embarrass her in front of her friends..."

"I think she needs a little embarrassment...she's embarrassing herself with her abysmal grades!" My wife shrugs, and I quickly leave the house. I can see Lucy a block or two away, turning right on an intersecting street. We live about a twenty minute walk from the university, and it is Lucy's habit to walk instead of drive. Soon enough we are on fraternity row, and for a second I'm puzzled by the number of giggling students wearing glitter-coated masks until I remember that it's Mardi Gras. In Philadelphia, I muse...Any chance to throw a party.

I see Lucy disappear into one of the many houses blaring music, with the porch crowded with raucous, laughing students clutching the ubiquitous red Solo cups that are the hallmark of keggers everywhere. I suddenly realize that they aren't going to let a 50-year old man walk into this party - I'm sure they will think I'm the police or other type of kill-joy. I do some fast thinking.

"Hey!" I say to a passing boy in a shiny black mask with an exaggerated smile that covers his entire face. "I'll give you twenty dollars for your mask," I offer. The boy laughs at my perceived stupidity and readily makes the transaction. I put it on and realize that I should probably lose my button-down as well. I take it off and toss it over the wrought-iron fence that borders the frat house. The rest of my outfit is acceptable - white undershirt, jeans, and old white sneakers. I'm fortunate enough to have a full head of brown hair which is only slightly receding at the temples, so that is another thing I don't have to worry about.

I walk into the house with no difficulty. In fact, no one seems to notice me. It's strange, being the oldest guy in the house. I feel like a spy, yet I also feel a strange sense of liberation at being undercover. It makes me feel young again and reminds me of parties I attended in my own college days. "Like father, like daughter," I think grimly.

I start going from room to room, looking for Lucy among the crowds. I'm at a disadvantage since everyone is wearing masks, but she's my daughter and I figure that I would recognize her anywhere. She isn't on the ground floor, so I climb the stairs and find her in the first room that I enter. I can tell it's her by her braided auburn hair that falls over one shoulder. She is wearing a flimsy t-shirt that exposes two inches of her belly and a short ruffled skirt. She has on black knee-high panty hose and high heels, which accentuate her legs. She has her mother's legs - long and shapely.

I am scoping out an out-of-the-way place where I can stand unnoticed when I am bumped roughly from behind. A young man pushes past me with many strings of beads hanging from his forearm. "Who wants beads?" he shouts. Some of the girls yell and laugh and clap saying "I do!"

"You know what you have to do!" the boy smiles. Now it's the boys turn to hoot and whistle and egg the girls on. One bold girl steps forward toward the boy with the beads and lifts her shirt and bra up with one motion, baring her large and slightly sagging breasts. As the boys cheer, the girl pulls her shirt down and ducks her head to allow the boy to drape a string of the plastic beads around her neck. Soon there are tits everywhere - young, beautiful tits that haven't seen breast feeding or the pull of gravity. It is hard to keep my attention focused on my daughter until I see with a jolt that she is going to earn herself a string of beads. I can't believe she is doing this - we certainly didn't raise her to act like this. She lifts up her shirt - she isn't even wearing a bra! Her breasts are wonderful - each one looking like slightly more than a handful, and perky to boot. I'm dismayed - my cock is beginning to twitch behind my fly, and I tell myself it's because of all the other breasts I have seen in the last ten minutes, But inside I know that it's the sight of my daughter's naked breasts that has caused this physiological reaction. The sickness and allure of forbidden fruit.

Some of the boys around her have begun to chant "Take it off!" They want her to take her tshirt off and leave it off, I guess. I move closer to her until I am only separated from her by one leering boy. Lucy, grinning from ear to ear, peels her shirt off and tosses it to the ground behind her. Now there are whoops and laughter. I watch as my daughter stands there naked to the waist, laughing shyly, the beads she has earned rolling back and forth over her nipples as she moves.

Just as I am admiring Lucy's lithe shape and flat belly, the boy right next to me reaches over and tweaks one of her nipples lightly, playfully. Lucy giggles and pulls away, ducking slightly and hunching her shoulders which only pushes her tits together and male them look more inviting. Perhaps emboldened by the anonymity of his mask the boy steps behind her and pushes his hands under her arms and cups both breasts. Now Lucy straightens up and sticks her tits out, letting him have free reign as both boys and girls encourage the show with whistles and laughter. Another boy steps up and put a hand on one of Lucy's tits, squeezing it somewhat roughly, possessively. That move brings out a side of me I never knew I had: the desire to be the dominant male, to win the mate - and the mate is my own daughter.

I step forward, facing her directly, and push the boys' hands away. I reach up and my palms cradle the sides of her breasts, pushing them slightly together while I gently rub my thumbs in circles around Lucy's hardening nipples. I duck my head down, push the mask up ever so slightly, and take one of her nipples in my mouth, flicking it with my tongue, bringing it to its firmest state. With this move I seem to have crossed some invisible line - not only with the crowd, who instinctively understand that she is mine now and they are mere spectators, eager for a show. But I am crossing another, much more forbidden line: sexual conduct with my daughter. And I like it. My cock is throbbing now, but I ignore its urgency for the time being. I quickly pull the mask back down and stand back up.

Lucy reaches down and grips my crotch with a firm hand that squeezes what it can through my jeans and begins to rub rhythmically. It has been forever since I felt this kind of overpowering desire. I remove my hands from Lucy's tits and put them on her shoulders, gently pressing down on them. The small crowd around us begins to chant "Do it! Do it!" again. Tossing her braid back behind her back, Lucy gets down on her knees in front of me. I can't get my cock out fast enough. Here I stand, my cock hard and pointing right at Lucy's face.

Lucy leans forward, and my daughter takes my cock into her mouth.

I watch it disappear centimeter by centimeter past her pouty lips, sliding over her slightly undulating tongue until it nudges the back of her throat. She stifles a slight gag and then draws her head back slowly, sucking gently, and I watch my cock slowly slide out of her mouth, slick with her saliva, hard as a rock. The head of my cock is already throbbing, and she slides forward again. She works my dick with experienced suckling, trying to take all inches into her throat and damn near succeeding. In my peripheral vision I see another young girl getting fondled by an eager boy, his hands moving sensually beneath her tshirt. The sight heightens my pleasure. I'm getting too excited...I need to slow things down.

I bend over and my cock slips regretfully away from my daughter's eager mouth. I help her to her feet and take her to a nearby couch. A couple seated there moves apart as they see that I am pushing Lucy down onto the couch. I drop to my knees and pull her knees apart, almost roughly with desire. Her short skirt slides up her thighs and there is her pussy, clad in a purple thong. The thong's string emerges from between the smooth cheeks of her ass and hugs her pussy. Without a pause I hook my forearms beneath Lucy's thighs and yank her to the edge of the couch and jerk her panties down. The boys cheer and the girls giggle.

My daughter's pussy has been waxed smooth. Her lips are as plump and inviting as the ones on her face, and I get a slight thrill to see that it is very similar to her mother's...well, her mother's about 30 years ago. I run my hands up the inside of her thighs, spreading them wider, and one of my thumbs strokes her from the petite slit that is the opening to her vagina up to her clit. She is already wet. I rub her clit in slow circles, and it hardens, emerging from its hood. I want to taste her. I lean down and pull my mask up, keeping my face down so that she won't see her father's face between her parted thighs. I smell her - a warm biscuit smell. I drag my tongue from her pink hole up to her stiff little clit, where I linger, flicking it with my tongue, feeling Lucy squirm slightly. I feel her being jostled and give a sideways glance. The couple who had been on the couch are holding Lucy's legs, stretching them wide open, laughing at the outrageous spectacle. She tastes clean, like tears - a mix of salty and sweet. I tongue fuck her cunt briefly before returning my attention to her clit. Her hips are moving rhythmically now, thrusting her pussy against my mouth, eager and needy.

I don't want her to orgasm yet. I want her to cum on my cock. I raise back up, smoothly pulling my mask back down, and reach down to aim my pulsing cock toward her inviting cunt. "Split that pussy!" someone shouts. "Fuck that slut!" another person urges.

"Wait -" Lucy says quickly, just before the tip of my cock reaches its goal. "Condom," she says. "I'm not on birth control." Good girl, I think. At least my daughter has SOME sense. Obviously I don't carry rubbers around with me, but I am quickly tossed one by a random spectator. I slide it over my cock and then move in again.

The tip of my cock splits the pink entrance of Lucy's cunt, and I slowly push the fat head of my cock inside her. It's so hard it almost hurts. The whole head slips in her with a sort of pop, and my daughter gasps. She is oh so tight, and as I push my length inside her the walls of her cunt grip me like a velvet glove. I push in her up to the hilt and I see her wince in pain as my cock pushes against her cervix. Someone whistles. I begin fucking her with long, firm strokes, going at a moderate pace. I lean slightly back and aim my cock toward the top wall of her vagina - a spot that makes my wife cum every time.

I'm surprised at how fast Lucy climaxes. She must have been even more turned on than I am. Suddenly she is gasping loudly, grunting with each stroke, vibrating beneath me, the tendons on the insides of her thighs taut. Her pussy becomes impossibly tight, and then she releases a short spray of fluid out onto my cock. She spasms, her eyes squeeze tight, her tits jiggle obscenely, and her cunt contracts erratically around the shaft of my fat cock. There is applause from the crowd. I marvel at the fact that I have just fucked my daughter to orgasm. I feel powerful, guilty, afraid, and out of control.

I want all of my daughter's holes. I want to own Lucy completely. I switch places with her on the couch. Now I'm seated, and I pull her hips back. She squats down, reaching between her legs and grabbing my cock, steering it back to the cozy confines of her quivering cunt. But I want a tighter hole. I pull my cock backwards and poke it up against her asshole. She turns her upper body and gives me a surprised look, then a wicked smile. She drips a large blob of saliva into her hand and swipes it between her ass cheeks. Lucy gradually begins to work my cock into her asshole, inch by painful inch, until the whole thing is deep in her guts. I look over Lucy's shoulder and see other girls getting fondled, other boys getting stroked through their jeans. I watch one boy finger fuck a girl as the two stand right in the middle of the room, surrounded by a small group of onlookers. The boy holds the girl against his body with a hand around her waist as his hand pumps beneath her skirt.

I grab Lucy's hips and start rocking her back and forth on my cock, slowly, keeping it deep inside her. I reach my hand around and start rubbing my middle finger back and forth over her clit. I want to make her cum with my cock in her ass, to make my daughter my fuck slut. I rock her faster, rub her clit harder, until she once again jerks her hips in an erratic rhythm and cries out, throwing her head back. One boy has stepped close and is playing with her nipples as she rides out her orgasm on my dick. I can't hold back anymore. I need to cum. My cock and balls are aching.

Once again we switch places on the couch. I lay Lucy lengthwise on it and kneel between her legs, one leg thrown over my shoulder and the other leg dangling off the edge of a cushion. I mirror her, kneeling on one knee on the couch and bracing my other foot against the floor for leverage. I don't want the condom coming between us. I want to feel Lucy's soaking cunt, skin on skin. I act like I'm trying to point my cock home while I quickly slip the rubber off and then plunge rudely up inside her, giving her my full length in one shove. She cries out. I begin to fuck her hard and fast, my stomach making embarrassing slapping noises against her thigh and ass. I'm getting closer to climax with every stroke. I pound her like I haven't pounded her mother in years. I'm vaguely aware of her cumming again, soaking my plunging cock, convulsing on the couch beneath me, and the clench of her cunt around me sends me over the edge. The cum wells up out of my balls and I unleash deep into her cunt with one final, cruel thrust. My cock twitches frantically inside her, releasing what feels like three huge spurts before fluttering into quiescence. I can't remember the last time I came so hard.

I gradually come back to myself, and suddenly I am filled with horror. Laying beneath me, still impaled on my softening cock, lay my daughter, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen and red, her breasts naked for all to see. I jerk out of her and stand up. I have to get out of there. I am terrified of being found out. She can't know. She can never know. With dread I realize the enormity of what I've done - not only did I fuck my own daughter but I ejaculated inside her. But mingled with the dread is an evil pride and lust. It was the best fuck of my life, daughter or no. As I push through the crowd, I glance back and see another boy taking my place on the couch, lifting Lucy's legs up on his shoulders. I don't want to see him penetrate her. I return the proffered high fives from several guys, then practically run out of the house, grabbing one of the red cups of beer by the keg on the porch.

I walk quickly two blocks before I dare take my mask off, then I slow down and stroll slowly home. When I walk into the house I enjoy one final bit of perversion as I brush my lips against my wifes - my same lips who, a scant hour ago, had been pleasuring our daughter.

The next day, late in the afternoon, I am outside on the back deck, kicked back in an Adirondack chair. I am reliving the night before. My cock is hard, tucked discreetly against my left hip as I try to remember every detail. And then out of the back door walks Lucy. She is bleary. Her hair is s till in a braid which is now loosened and messy. God knows how many boys fucked her after I left. And she smiles at me and chimes "Hey dad!" She walks past on the way to the porch swing and sits down. She is wearing short shorts. I admire those long legs of hers, and think about the sweet pussy nestled between them. I am wondering how I can ever manage to fuck her again...

Lucy pulls me out of my reverie. She smiles, then asks: "So dad, how are you doing today?"