My wife, Carol, and I went to Becky’s apartment to refinish an old chest of drawers. Becky is my stepdaughter, Carol’s daughter from her first marriage. Becky is 29, but this incident occurred when she was 18. Becky is adorable, with long, curly red hair, a round face, a big smile, brown eyes, and thick lips. She’s a big girl, too, which I don’t mind. So, the story…
The dresser was sitting in the middle of Becky’s living room.
“Hmmm…we need to get this outside, or the fumes will drive us all out,” I said.
Carol does most of the stripping of the old finish, using some pretty nasty solvents. The three of us moved the dresser out of the apartment and took it around to the side of the building, where we could set it on top of a tarp to protect the grass.
“Man! I think I worked up a sweat there!” I joked.
Carol rolled her eyes. “Go ahead, I put a six-pack in the refrigerator when I came here yesterday.”
I laughed and returned to the apartment to grab one of the beers. It was a pleasant surprise—Yuengling, in longneck bottles—and it was ice cold, perfect for a hot summer day.
I was tempted to turn the TV on and sit down for a while, but I wasn’t sure if Carol would be yelling for me to come down again soon or not, and I didn’t want to get too comfortable just in case. Instead, I opted for a different form of male relaxation: a magazine and the bathroom. Yeah, a nice relaxing pee, something to read, total privacy, and a cold beer. Does life get any better for a guy?
When I got up, zipped up, and was about to open the door, I noticed the clothes hamper. It was overflowing with clothes…typical Becky…and some had spilt onto the floor. There, I saw a pair of lavender panties. I knelt down and picked them up. They had a smooth and satiny feel, with lace edges around the top and the leg holes. They were sitting on top of a lovely skirt and a blouse. Becky’s work clothes, I bet. She had come home and changed out of her work clothes to help with the dresser. She was now wearing sweatshorts and a T-shirt. Becky must have had these panties on just an hour ago!
I stood up to the panties, looking at them, feeling how smooth and soft they were. I felt a stirring between my legs and thought for a moment about smelling them, but then thought no, that’s perverted. But I kept holding them, wanting to see if I could smell Becky on them. I was focused on those panties, part of me wanted to get the hell out of the bathroom before doing something perverse, and part of me thought this was one of the few chances I’ll ever get to actually smell Becky’s pussy. Yeah, it’s perverted, but…it’s Becky’s pussy.
All my attention was focused on that choice, so I never heard the sound of the apartment door opening.
Becky burst into the bathroom at a run, almost running right into me. It startled the crap out of both of us, and I blurted out, “OH!”
She yelled, “OH!” at the same time.
Very embarrassed, she said, “Sorry,” and started to move toward the door. As she turned, she stopped cold for an instant, staring at her lavender panties in my hands. Then she left the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
“Oh Christ,” I thought, “this is a fucking disaster! How the fuck do explain this one?”
I wondered how long I could hide in the bathroom before I had to come out. Then I thought about Becky going outside and telling Carol that her husband is a closet panty freak.
“Fuck!” I thought.
I put Becky’s panties back on top of her clothes just like I found them…as if it mattered at that point. I might as well have worn them on my head. I was already caught lavender-handed. I opened the door, wondering if she’d already run out to tell her mother. Instead, Becky walked past me at a fast clip into the bathroom.
“God, I gotta pee!!” she said, shutting the door.
I was relieved but still nervous. Damage control, damage control. I had to figure out a way to explain it to her logically, but it’s hard to bring logic and total bullshit into alignment.
Becky exited the bathroom and asked, “Where’s the beer? I’m thirsty.” She entered the kitchen and grabbed a Beck’s from the fridge.
My head was spinning. The parent in me took over. “Becky, you’re not old enough to drink beer.”
Becky stared me right in the eyes as she pulled the lavender panties out of her front pocket. “If I were you, Dad, I wouldn’t tell you what I can or can’t do right now…” I snapped out of Parent Mode and felt my face go hot. I must have been red as a beet.
“What were you doing with these?” she asked. Becky dangled the panties from one finger, letting them swing back and forth.
Thinking fast, I offered, “They were on the floor,” which was true. “And I was putting them back into the hamper”, which was a lie.
“Dad, you are SO full of shit!” Becky countered.
Becky’s eyes drilled into me, and she had a smile on her face that looked vaguely evil and pleased with it. She had picked up a bottle opener and was holding it like it was a knife to be slipped between my ribs. Becky opened the Beck’s longneck and started drinking…chugging almost half of it. Then she stopped drinking and let out a long, practised burp.
I stared at her in disbelief. I was speechless. I had never known her to drink, and there she was, chugging it like Pepsi!
That’s when the screen door slammed shut, and we almost jumped out of our skins. Becky flinched so violently that the bottle started to fall out of her hand. She grabbed it before it fell, but the shock made the beer foam up from the top and over her hand onto the floor. Becky looked at me in horror as we heard her mom’s footsteps on the living room floor approaching. I grabbed her beer, lunged to the fridge and put my own beer inside, then grabbed a dish towel from the sink just as Carol walked into the kitchen.
Carol took in the scene in front of her.
“What happened?” she asked.
I told her I shook my beer accidentally before opening it, and it foamed up all over.
“Oh,” she said. Carol walked over and picked up the rubber gloves from the kitchen counter. “I’m going back out to start stripping that old finish off”. Carol walked out of the kitchen, and neither Becky nor I made a sound until we heard the screen door shut.
“Wow, thanks for telling Mom it was your beer,” Becky said. She would have killed me!”
“Well, thanks for NOT telling your mom about…”
I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. I still felt humiliated and nervous. Becky went to the kitchen window, where she could lean out and see her mom, about 40 feet away, working on the dresser again. Then she opened the fridge and retrieved my beer, taking a long swig.
“Unbelievable,” I thought to myself. “She’s already back into the beer!”
My balls were still up in my abdomen, where they fled when my wife came back into the apartment and almost caught us in mid-confrontation. Becky was still a mystery to me.
“So…what did you do with your, uh…underwear?” I asked her nervously.
Becky reached down the front of her sweat shorts and pulled out the lavender panties. “Here,” she said, tossing them to me, “go ahead”.
“Go ahead?” I asked. I didn’t know what she meant.
“Yeah”, she said with a sly smile, almost challenging.
“What do you mean?” I asked. But I had a clue what she was getting at.
“What were you gonna do with them?” she asked.
She was asking for real, not goading me. It was an honest question.
“I won’t say anything,” she promised.
Becky knew I had a guilty look on my face when she saw me with her panties. She knew I was doing something I shouldn’t have done, but she didn’t know what. She may have suspected, but she didn’t really know and wasn’t ready to ask explicitly.
I could feel butterflies in my stomach. I looked out the window at Carol working on the dresser. I started to say something but stopped. I could have answered her question, but I thought better of it.
“Becky, just forget it, ok? Let’s pretend it didn’t happen…please?”
She drank the rest of the bottle. Becky now looks nervous, like someone who knows she has gone too far but doesn’t want to stop.
“Dad, tell me…” she said.
Becky was looking at me with a very serious face.
I felt those butterflies again. Becky reached out slowly and took the panties from my hand.
“Tell me,” she said as she brought the panties to her mouth, letting them brush against her lips.
I tried to do the right thing; really, I did. I tried to say, “Becky, please, don’t”, but my voice locked up before I could say, “Don’t”.
My heart pounded, and without even thinking, I brought my hand up to Becky’s breast and squeezed it. I could feel her nipple already stiff against my palm. Becky made a high-pitched moan and breathed in deeply. Her mouth was open, her eyes almost pleading. She took her panties and put them against my lips, using two fingers to push the crotch into my mouth, sighing, “Oh, Dad.”
Then, it was my turn to drop the beer. It hit the vinyl floor and foamed out all over. I sucked on Becky’s fingers and panties with my eyes closed. My nipples tightened. I could not believe this was happening.
I pulled Becky’s fingers and the panties out of my mouth and put my hands on her face, pressing my mouth onto hers, pressing my tongue against hers. She drew in a sharp breath and almost attacked my tongue with her own. We grappled like this until I broke loose and kissed Becky’s neck.
I kissed down her t-shirt to the nipple I could see poking against the material. I put my mouth on Becky’s nipple through the t-shirt, squeezing down on it with my teeth…not too hard, but enough to make her notice.
“Oh, God,” she said, pulling her t-shirt off.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me, sucking the nipple into my mouth. At the same time, Becky grabbed my head and pressed my face and mouth hard against her soft breast as I sucked the nipple and teased it with my tongue. I pushed her stiff nipple back and forth in my mouth, flicking it with my tongue. I could feel her hands shaking as she held my head.
I pulled my face off her breast and got down on my knees, looking up at her. I grabbed her sweatshirts at the top and pulled them down, almost roughly, down to her ankles. Becky tried to pull a foot out of the shorts, stumbling backwards against the wall. I pulled her foot out of one leg of the shorts and pushed her legs apart.
She moved her hips, trying to get her pussy closer to my face, but I didn’t let her get too close. I kissed her thigh, then her inner thigh…I could feel the heat from her pussy, and she kept trying to push it toward me. I wouldn’t let her.
“Not yet,” I told her.
Becky was shaved. Not even a landing strip. The girl was clean-shaven, maybe even waxed because her pussy looked as smooth as it was the day she was born. Becky was a big girl, and her outer lips were really plump…and God, they looked so soft. A plump, smooth pussy. Not yet, my ass. I couldn’t stop myself, and I put my mouth as close to Becky’s pussy as I could without touching it with my lips. I made sure Becky knew how close my mouth was to her pussy by breathing hot breath on it.
Then I let my tongue touch her lips gently, all over her pussy, lightly…then more firmly, along her slit and over her lips…then letting my mouth touch her pussy and pressing more with my tongue, sliding it between her lips. Oh God, there it was…I could taste Becky’s juices on my tongue when I parted her lips. She was wet, very wet, and I wanted to taste every drop of her.
I put my thumbs on either side of Becky’s pussy and spread her lips open. My tongue pressed into her…deep…I wished I had a 6″ tongue, wondering how she would feel being fucked by something that felt hard as a cock, but could move inside her like a tongue, like Gene Simmons on growth hormones.
She had grabbed onto my head by then and was keeping my face pressed into her pussy. I moved my mouth upward, circling her clit with my lips, gently sucking it. Her clit had swelled, and I could push down around it with my lips and suck to draw it into my mouth. I loved the feeling of it and massaged her swollen clit with my tongue, pressing on it, teasing the head, flicking it back and forth until I felt her grip on my hair tighten.
I slid a finger inside her. Then, two fingers. I did not finger-fuck her fast with them; I just slid them in and out, letting her feel them moving inside her, touching the insides of her pussy.
I felt her hips jerk slightly, and she was pushing my face hard between her legs, so I slid my other hand up her tummy to her breasts, found a nipple, and pinched it, rolling it between my fingers as I flicked my tongue on the tip of her clit rapidly.
“OHHHHH!” she yelled, hips bucking as she came.
Becky pulled my head off her pussy, and pulled it back so she could see my face. She started pulling me up by the hair. I had to get on my feet, and she forced her mouth against mine, tasting herself in my mouth and on my face. We were both moaning and clawing at each other.
I spun Becky around to face the window, grabbing her hips and pulling them to me and using my foot to push her feet apart. Becky looked back at me over her shoulder.
“Do you want to fuck me? Do you want to FUCK ME, Daddy?” she asked.
Daddy? She never called me Daddy before. I took my cock and pushed the head against Becky’s slit from behind, moving the head up and down with my hand to separate her lips and make the head slippery. I leaned forward, cock poised against her pussy, and whispered in her ear, “I’m gonna fuck you, Becky.”
“You want to fuck your daughter?” she asked. She said daughter, not stepdaughter.
“Yes…I want to fuck you,” I replied.
“NO, tell me you want to fuck your girl,” she told me.
I knew what she was trying to do. Becky was trying to make me confront the taboo I had hidden from her…or so I thought…for years.
“I, I want to fuck my girl,” I said, hearing my voice catch.
“Now’s your chance, Daddy…” Becky sounded breathless. She was clearly getting off on the perversion of this and wanted to take it even further. She wanted to push limits.
“Mom’s outside…fuck me, dad…” looking right into my eyes, “…fuck your little girl.”
“Oh fuck!” I cried out, pushing my hips forward and pulling hers back toward me, sliding my cock into her pussy in one motion.
Becky moaned, an intense, guttural moan for someone who had just turned herself into daddy’s little girl in this perverted fantasy. I pushed my cock deep inside her, grinding into her, totally into the sensation of that first penetration. Becky was into it, too…she already had her hand between her legs, fingers pushing her clit back and forth as “daddy” fucked her.
I couldn’t help it, I started fucking her hard and fast. There was not even any style to it, just pure passion and excitement, hands gripping her hips and pumping my cock in and out, grinding into her pussy, then in and out again, ass cheeks slapping against thighs.
I looked at my cock sliding in and out of plump bald pussy, and, God help me, in my mind, she had regressed to a forbidden age. She, in turn, has slipped into her own fantasy…eyes closed, breathing hard, murmuring, “Yes Daddy…ohhhhh…God yes, fuck me, Daddy.”
Carol saw Becky at the window. She was too far away to see anything more than Becky moving in the open window.
“Becky! Where’s Dave?” Carol called out.
“Daddy’s inside!” Becky yelled back. Becky moaned as she worked her fingers faster over her clit. I moaned with her and started grinding my cock in her pussy more, angling my cock for more friction inside her.
“Well, I need something…tell him to come!” Carol yelled.
Becky looked back at me, face flushed, fingers moving furiously between her legs.
“Mommy wants you to cum, Daddy…cum inside me,” she said.
I could feel the orgasm building fast. Becky felt her own and pulled down the window, slamming it shut just before pressing her mouth against her arm and shouting. I heard her starting to cum, and my own orgasm burst wide open.
“Ohh, Becky!” I cried.
Trying not to yell too loudly, I felt cum spurting out of my cock and into Becky’s pussy.
“GOD, I’m cumming inside her!” I thought.
My fingers were raking her back now as she rode her orgasm. My cock had stopped spurting cum, but I was still extremely sensitive…sometimes I am a total spazz after cumming. I could barely even move my softening cock inside Becky without having a quick mini-convulsion.
I ran my hands up and down Becky’s back, reaching under to cup her breasts and gently tease her nipples. We were both covered in sweat. Becky stood up, and I kissed her neck…deliciously salty and sweet, and she smiled. My cock finally dropped out of her. I slid an arm around her to cup a breast and my other arm around her waist, hugging her from behind.
“Wow!” is the only thing I could think of.
She smiled.
“You are a fucking PERVERT!” she laughed.
“Look who’s talking!” I said. “I mean…Daddy?? I got news for you, hon; we’re BOTH perverts.”