Pool Party Ch. 05

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Brunette

Welcome to part 5. Around 12,000 words, should be around 3 or 4 pages.

This entire chapter is a single sex scene between dad and daughter. In reader’s feedback I’m often accused of writing whole chapters where paragraphs might do. Well, this might well be a prime example of that.

I wanted to thank UAlbanygirl518 for her help on the last few chapters and also Tofer Jordan for his help on chapter 2. Both have been invaluable.

There is plenty of wetsex in this chapter, you have been warned 🙂

As always, everyone in this story is over the age of 18.

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As the girls left, I locked the door behind them and turned to Amy with knots of expectation forming in my stomach. My heart thumped as I hungrily gazed at her and pictured what was to come. She returned my stare with the same hunger, the same passion, the same expectation that I felt. I braced for the expected impact, as I imagined her running and throwing herself at me. I was therefore surprised, and more than a little disappointed, when she turned to go upstairs.

“I’m off to get ready, get cleaned up,” she called as she turned. Her voice quivered with what I hoped was the same excitement and passion I felt.

“Are you going to be long?” I asked.

“A couple of hours.”

“A couple of hours? Really?”

She turned to face me, her eyes glinting playfully even as she shook her head like a disappointed school ma’am.

“A couple of hours, Daddy. You can wait that long can’t you?” she said, her voice tinged with mock sternness, “Remember, good things come to those that wait.”

That promise and the sultry look that followed, made my breath catch and had my pulse racing but still I nodded with exaggerated reluctance as I watched her fine ass and long legs disappear up the stairs.

I needed to fill that time, I would have practically exploded if I didn’t try. So I settled into what had become a bit of a routine. I washed their swimsuits, scrubbed down the pool deck, washed down the piss soaked furniture, and then went for my own shower.

By the time I settled onto the sofa, I felt calmer, less like I was on a hair trigger, less likely to explode on first contact. I realized that was probably Amy’s intention. Although I also realised that it wasn’t just about me lasting longer. It was about creating separation and space. Differentiating between what I’d done with the other girls and what we were about to do together. It was almost like she wanted to draw a line under the chapter just gone so that I was focussed on the chapter to come. What was about to happen was about love, and family, and incest. It was about us, and what we meant to each other, what we had promised each other. It was about satisfying the desires that we had both held for longer than either of us would dare to admit.

I sipped on my whisky as I waited for her to join me, expectation and excitement building with every passing moment.

My heart skipped as soon as I heard the creak of the landing floorboards that told me she was coming downstairs. I was as nervous and giddy as a schoolboy on a first date as I turned to watch her as she made those last few steps. Watching her did nothing to slow my racing heart. Fuck! She was beautiful. I know I’ve said that many times but it is worth repeating. Simply, a glorious image of youthful beauty that, in my eyes, couldn’t be bettered. Long-toned legs, a tight stomach, tiny teen titties with jewel-like nipples, that perfect face, those deep brown eyes…

She smiled warmly and shook her hair away from her shoulders. She’d put on a little makeup and she’d set her hair in gentle waves. Nothing heavy, just a few subtle highlights to enhance her natural beauty, but equally I knew how hard she had worked to look so naturally beautiful. She wore the same simple night dress that she’d had for years and that she’d practically outgrown, I used to joke with her that it was comfort clothing, her face betrayed the fact that she needed some comfort.

She strutted towards me like a model on a catwalk, hips swaying as she walked with each foot planted in front of the other. But I knew, I could see. The confidence that that strut was meant to portray wasn’t mirrored in her eyes. Yes, they glinted with love and a sexual naughtiness that I found so alluring, but that look was tempered with a good chunk of nervousness too. It reminded me of that first night on the pool deck when she’d modelled the transparent swimsuit for the first time. And, to be honest, I felt the same. Everything that had gone before had led us to this point, the swimsuits, the porn, the blow job, the pissing. We had started this journey together, a journey that was always going to lead to here, to this moment. We had both made clear how much we wanted each other but that didn’t mean that crossing the bridge to becoming lovers was going to be easy.

She sat at the side of me, her doey eyes, so full of daughterly love, and playfulness, and passion, and nervousness, they gazed into mine.

“Hello, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Hello, Baby,” I whispered bursa escort back.

“You ready to do this?” she asked.

I nodded in reply. “Yes. You?”

She nodded back.

“You sure?” I pressed, “We don’t have to go through with this you know.”

“Is that what you want, Daddy? To stop this now?”

I broke eye contact with her and stared at her knees as I shook my head in negation. “No, that’s not what I want. It’s just… You know.”

“I don’t know, Daddy. What is it? Tell me.”

“I’m excited, but I’m also nervous. I’m scared that this won’t work out well, that we’ll damage our relationship and that we’ll never be the same with each other again.”

“Me too,” she whispered, “Me too.”

My eyes returned to hers and we shared a look that admitted the truth of our feelings as well as the depth of love for each other.

“But here’s what I think, Daddy. I love you and I know you love me too.”

I nodded in confirmation.

“And I want you as more than just a loving daddy, I want you as a lover,” she continued, “and I think you want me just as much.”

I gave her a firm nod so that she was in no doubt that I did.

“So, if it doesn’t work out, we’ll call it a night of stupidity. Stupidity that we both consented to, but stupidity nonetheless. We’ll do our best to put it behind us, to never talk about it again, to reset our relationship to where it was before…” Her voice trailed away and she finished with a shrug that told me that’s all she could offer.

I was impressed with her maturity, she had obviously thought this through. Her eyes looked desperate, desperate for me to accept her proposal, desperate for us to make good on our promises to each other. I hoped mine returned the same desperate desires.

I hadn’t realised how much tension had built up in that moment but suddenly I felt like I hadn’t taken a breath in minutes. I snorted and nodded acceptance and, as soon as I had, the pressure instantly lifted. She sensed it too and we shared a smile that told each other we would soon be lovers and that was what we both wanted.

She tipped her head towards my whisky and held out her hand. I handed it to her with a puzzled look, she doesn’t like whisky.

She gave me a cheeky wink as she downed it in one. “I think I’m going to need this to go through with some of the things I’ve got planned,” she said coughing, as the whisky burnt her throat.

My eyes widened and I grinned like a Cheshire cat at the naughty implications.

That smile was obviously the cue she needed and she stood, placed the glass on the table and held my gaze as she straddled me and pulled me close. Her lips were soft and welcoming and tasted of strawberry lipstick mixed with whisky. We kissed, a passionate deep, needy, kiss that revealed that, despite our worries, we both desired each other equally. Her tongue found mine and we fought. Sensual wet kisses expressed our lust for each other. My hands found her hips and I pulled her towards me, my cock seeking the pressure of her weight and she ground back as her pussy sought the same. We kissed like that for minutes, each passing moment fanned the flames of our passions. But it was a desire based on love, a deep, ever present, unquestioning love. We wanted each other, wanted to be with each other and our kiss, our moans, our movements revealed that with each passion filled moment.

I lowered her to the floor, her below, me on top, between her legs. My weight pressed to hers. Her legs wrapped around mine. Our sexes pressed together. My hand found her breast. Her nipple taut against my palm. I knew we were close. My hand slid down her side and found the hem of her night dress. I was preparing to pull it over her head when she broke our kiss and pushed me away a little.

“Daddy. Stop. Not here. Not like this.”

The fog of my lust was impenetrable and her words didn’t reach their target and I forced myself lower to continue our kiss.

“Daddy, please stop,” she said again, softly but firmly and this time I did hear her.

I was crestfallen. I know dads shouldn’t want to fuck their children but I was ready and I thought she was ready too. I slowly lifted away from her.

“Sorry.” I whispered looking into her eyes apologetically, “Sorry, I…” My voice drifted away.

Her look had no indication that she hated me for what we’d nearly done and her eyes still burned with that same passion, that same love, that I’d seen earlier. Confounded, doesn’t get close to describing how confused I was.

Don’t be,” she said softly, “Just go to bed.”

I gave her a quizzical look trying to understand.

“Just go to bed, Daddy. Please.” she begged.

I glanced at the clock, only 9pm, and gave her another questioning look.

“Just go Daddy,” she said, her voice now tinged with impatience as if talking to a child.

I trooped to bed with no real understanding of what had just happened. I felt guilty at what I had done, guilty for nearly forcing myself on her, guilty for even wanting to make love to her. I wanted to understand, wanted to know what I had done bursa escort bayan to trigger that reaction, but there was no way I could bring myself to question her any further.

I’d been in bed for only a few minutes, stewing over what had just happened, what had changed so suddenly, why we were so close and yet so far, when there was a tap at the door.

“Daddy,” she said, a hint of pleading in her voice, “can I come in?”

“Of course baby,” I responded. I was hopeful that she was ready to talk, ready to explain what had caused her sudden change in heart.

She stepped in and stood just inside the threshold.

“I’ve had a bad dream again, Daddy. Can I get in with you?”

Like a slow idiot, I was initially puzzled. There was no way she’d had time to go to sleep and certainly no opportunity for a nightmare. She used to have them regularly up to being around sixteen and would often end up in my bed. She would snuggle up close and I would hold her tight whilst she drifted back off to sleep, safe in her daddy’s arms.

Then the penny dropped. This was why she’d sent me to bed; it was so she could act out this fantasy. I stared at her for what seemed like an age and I could feel those passions, that expectation rising again. But I needed to be sure.

“Was it a really bad dream,” I asked with exaggerated concern.

She nodded, “It was.”

“Do you need a hug from Daddy?”

A knowing smile played at her lips as she recognised my play acting and my commitment to her fantasy.

“Yes, Daddy. I need a big hug.”

I threw the sheet back. “Of course pumpkin, get in and let daddy keep you safe.”

She snuggled into that familiar childhood position. Her back to my chest, my thighs to the back of hers. The difference this time was that I was hard and she could feel that. She wriggled and pressed her firm buttocks tight to my groin and I pressed back as we fully acknowledged what this was. I wrapped her in my strong arms and pulled her close.

“Better baby?”

“Yes, thank you Daddy.” she cooed as she relaxed into my embrace.

We revelled in each other’s closeness and her warmth softened my heart. We stayed like that for minutes simply bathing in each other’s presence. Our breaths were deep and slow and, as my breath expanded pressing my chest into her back, she would press against me to maximise the contact.

After a few minutes she stopped pressing back against me and her breathing was deep and regular. I sensed she was pretending to sleep.

I knew what she wanted, what she needed really. She needed me to commit. My daughter was eighteen, an adult, capable of making her own choices and this was her choice, this is what she wanted. For me to express my long held desires by making the first move. But still I had lingering doubts and that made me hesitate. Eventually I plucked up the courage and I slipped my hand from her stomach towards her breast, as I did some of those doubts, some of those feelings from earlier, came flooding back. But I knew this needed to be my move.

Delicately I traced the tips of my fingers across her stomach, her rib cage, to the rise of her small breasts. I circled her nipple, my fingers dancing softly around the line of her areola. Her nipple hardened in response. Cautiously I cupped her breast and slowly, gingerly, I began to massage and kneed those soft mounds of gorgeousness. She was so slim that in this position I could easily reach both breasts and I alternated between the two, gently teasing her nipples before taking her full breast in my hand and gently squeezing.

I knew my part in this, it was to tease her, to arouse her, but in a way that, if she was really asleep, wouldn’t quite be enough to wake her. And I played my part well. I stroked her and caressed her for minutes making it harder for her to play her part of the sleeping beauty. Her breaths deepened as my strong hands gently caressed her little titties through her nightshirt, taking each one fully in my hand and gently squeezing whilst her nipples poked my palm through the thin material. Occasionally my cock demanded more attention and I would instinctively press against her and she would sleepily press back to encourage me without ever revealing that she was ‘awake’. Our movements, our breaths were synchronised in a developing harmony.

Still play acting, she dreamily turned to me. “Daddy?” she whispered.

“Yes baby?”

“Do you want to take my nighty off?”

My breath caught as the depth and nature of her fantasy was fully revealed.

“Yes,” I whispered back.

“Okay then,” she said with a nod.

She gave me as much help as a ‘sleepy’ Amy could give and I eventually managed to manoeuvre her nighty over her head before she dreamily snuggled back against my chest with a satisfied coo.

We lay there for a few more minutes, lay there with her warm soft skin pressed tight to my torso, lay there with our chests rising and falling in unison, lay there allowing the fantasy to play out and our passions to smoulder before I returned my attention to her breasts. She hummed her approval escort bursa as, once again, I gently massaged them.

After a few minutes she turned to me with her still eyes half closed.

“Daddy?” she asked. Her voice quivered with what I hoped was passion but I sensed hesitation, I suspected there was some renewed nervousness there.

“Yes, baby?

“Do you want me to wee on you?”

Now I understood why she had hesitated.

“Baby!” I exclaimed in mock shock, “Why would you say that?”

“I’ve seen your videos.”

I smiled warmly as I wondered how long she had been wanting to say that, wondered how long she had held this particular fantasy.

“Well,” she pressed, “Do you?”

My heart skipped and my passions roared but my stomach suddenly knotted with guilt for what I was about to admit.

“Yes.” I whispered back.

It was her time to smile as her eyes gazed sexily into mine.

“Before or afterwards?” she asked cryptically.

“Before or after what?”

She hesitated again, but not from nervousness, this time I sensed theatre.

“Before or after you make love to me?”

The world stopped. I froze, Amy froze, neither of us spoke, neither of us breathed. The room was so quiet, I could hear my heart thumping in my chest. This was the culmination of the flirting, and the promises that we had made over the last week. This is why she’d needed that stiffener. At that moment I had no doubts that this was going to be a good night.

“Before,” I responded.

Freed from any remaining pretence that this was a normal cuddle, she shuffled backwards, pressing herself even tighter to me. Her soft, warm, delicate form squeezed against me, her back against my chest, her thighs pressed to mine, her ass wriggled against my cock as she sought maximum contact.

“You need to pull my panties down then, Daddy,” she whispered as she settled into position.

My cock roared as her words echoed in my mind ‘pull my panties down, Daddy’, a week ago I wouldn’t have wanted to hear those words, but now I had, I never wanted to forget them.

I hooked the waistband of her knickers and tugged at them until they were half way down her thighs. Satisfied that would give us enough space I pulled her back into me and, once more, we spooned for a few moments as we bathed in each other’s warmth and closeness as the anticipation built.

As she readied herself, she reached behind, pushing my cock down so that she could trap it between her soft, smooth thighs. She took my hand and placed it back on her chest.

“Touch me, Daddy,” she cooed.

Once again I massaged her breasts, revelling in their smoothness, their softness, their warmth, their youth and, as I gently pinched the delicate pink nipples, I instinctively humped her thighs.

She reached up, trapping my hand against her titty and held me in place as she opened her legs as far as her panties would allow. We both gasped as my cock, released from the grip of her thighs, instantly sprang up, slapping against her pussy lips.

“It’s coming Daddy,” she breathed and I felt her tense as she instinctively pulled my hand tighter to her chest, “I’m weeing on you.”

Then she pissed on me, a small stream of piss that dribbled across my cock, over her thigh and soaked her skin. Then it stopped as quickly as it had started.

I held her close, sensing her nervousness, perhaps even her disappointment.

“Have you finished baby?” I asked her gently.

Her voice sounded small and nervous as she replied, “No, no, it’s just…”

I’d seen enough piss videos to understand what she was going through.

“It’s OK baby, it really is. If that is it, then that’s OK, it was beautiful and I love you for trying. But if you feel there’s more then you have to try and relax.”

She nodded as she exhaled and I felt her soften in my arms as she forced herself to relax.

Then it hit me again, a strong powerful stream of piss jetted against the end of my cock, splashing against our thighs, soaking our skin. I moaned as the sensations and vibrations rippled through my body.

She reached back, pulling my head towards hers and whispered, “I love you Daddy.

I Love you too,” I whispered as her piss continued its assault against my cock.

The incongruity of our loving words against the debauched act of her pissing on me was so hot.

I lowered my hand and positioned it so that it captured the splashes of her pee and then massaged it into her little titties. She moaned and writhed against me pressing her ass into me as tight as she could, encouraging me to do more.

“Is this what you want Daddy?” she said as she took my hand and lifted it to her face.

“Yes.” I growled revealing the strength of my passions.

She held my hand close to her face and sniffed it. Then she held my gaze, her eyes burnt with a passion so ferocious.

“Or this?” she whispered, her voice thick with lust.

She began licking, kissing and sucking my piss covered digits before wiping them across her lips. The taste, her display, our lust exploded. We ground against each other as our sexes sought the stimulation that they craved, as our passions for each other, as our passions for wet sex roared. And all the time she pissed on me, my beautiful baby girl, so delicate, so proper, so unbelievably sexy, she pissed on me.

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