I sped home through the Laguna Hills and pulled up to the gate that separated my house from the rest of the world. I reached my hand out of the car window smelled the sweet smell of jasmine, and pressed the code that opened the large iron gate to the entrance of the house I was proud was one of the largest on the street. Maybe I didn’t have tennis courts like our neighbors, but I didn’t need one. I had a basketball court though, and I had a pool that was featured in several architectural magazines along with the house. I was at home from work early on a Friday, fixing an afternoon snack when I heard the front door open.
“Hi, baby. You’re home from school early. I thought you were going to study with your friends at the library today like you usually do?” I said, seeing my teenage daughter walk into the kitchen.
“I decided to do my homework at home, is that ok?” My daughter said, walking past me in an outfit that I was surprised didn’t warrant a phone call home or trip to the principal’s office.
“Ok baby, is everything ok?” I asked, looking at her bright pink shorts held up by a trendy white belt, half t-shirt that was practically see-through, a few dangly bracelets, and wedge sandals that made her long tan legs seem even longer than I had remembered them. An outfit that was not priced on the amount of fabric but still cost more than most teenager’s whole closet of clothes.
“Yes, Daddy.” “My friends are just so boring.” She replied, obviously holding something back like teenagers often do.
I knew better than to push. She was a not a child anymore, and almost finished with high school. I was lucky she wasn’t as rebellious as her friends, and while she just turned eighteen last week, she was always my little girl. I met her mom about twelve years ago when her daughter was just six, and I thought to myself while I washed the dishes. The most rebellious thing she did was how she dressed, and I was lucky for that. Other girls in her class were much worse when it came to doing bad things. It seemed every generation was more at risk than the previous one, and with primetime TV shows about cooking crystal meth, and I was just happy my teenage daughter was safe and happy. Dressing sexy was just her way of getting some attention I thought. Plus times have changed and most high school girls dress that way.
“Can I get you anything to eat baby?” I asked.
“No, that’s ok, I don’t want to get fat. Then no one will want to go out with me.” She said.
I wasn’t sure, buy my best guess was that she was having her period. That was my go-to answer for pretty much anything that was wrong. I decided to let it go, and if she wanted to talk to me I would be there for her, but I didn’t want to piss her off.
“Ok, baby.” I said.
“I’ll be in my room.” She said, walking upstairs and shutting her door.
She came downstairs after the sun had gone down, and I had finished dinner and was watching TV on the couch.
“I’m hungry.” She said, opening up the fridge and grabbing some fresh strawberries.
She sat next to me on the couch and began watching TV with me and eating strawberries out of the basket. All she had on was just a t-shirt, underwear, and fluffy slippers, and she sat down next to me and pulled my blanket off my legs and onto hers.
“Geez,” I said, tugging part of the blanket back covering up my legs and boxers.
“Oops, sorry Daddy.” She said, giggling.
When she sat down, I could tell she must have just put lotion on because she smelled as sweet as one of those lotion shops in the mall where the sales people wear little white aprons.
“Want some?” She asked holding up a ripe strawberry, dripping with water.
“I’m ok baby.” I said, and watched her bite into it, juice running out of her mouth and down her fingers.
“Do you need a napkin?” I asked, which was my way of saying. You’re going to make a mess, but she didn’t seem to care and just stared at the TV, and licked her fingers clean.
“See Daddy, I don’t need napkins.” She said.
As usual she took control of the remote and found something more appropriate to her likes and changed the channel numerous times before settling on a dating show. After a few minutes watching teenagers go on dates and talk about what they did and didn’t like about each other my daughter turned to me and said.
“Daddy, do you think boys like me?” She said, laying her long legs across my lap, her pink painted toe-nails peeking through the end of the blanket.
“Umm, sure baby, of course, they do,” I replied, covering them with the blanket.
“Is there something you want to talk about?” I said, trying to open some sort of father-daughter dialog.
“Not really, it’s kinda awkward, ya know. You’re like, my dad and everything.” She said.
“I see baby. Well, just think of me as a friend. You can talk to me about anything you want.” I said.
“I don’t know, it’s kinda personal, ya know.” She said, making a face like I was kinda old and gross. The face every teenage daughter does when talking to their dad about this stuff.
“Some eryaman escort of the girls at school are already having sex and partying a lot.” She said.
“Oh, I see, well,” I said, trying not to sound too fatherly at this moment, knowing if I wanted her to continue the wrong thing to do was to sound judgmental or unrealistic.
“It’s a normal part of growing up.” I managed to say, slightly proud of listening to my inner ‘right answer Rolodex’ of good fatherly responses.
“I guess so.” She said.
“Mom would freak out if I told her what I just told you.” She said.
“I freak out about other things, but I think it’s important for a father and daughter to be able to communicate in a safe zone free of any judgement” I said, wondering where this wisdom was coming from.
She changed the channel and began some romantic comedy about one-night stands. The girl in the movie was young and cute, and I didn’t mind watching this cute little thing I thought to myself. In the movie, the twenty-something girl had broken up with her boyfriend and went online to meet a guy for a one-night stand. Man, I had been so horny lately, and it seemed like anything made me want to have sex, especially young girls looking for one-night stands. My wife and I have been working a lot lately, and we haven’t seemed to make the time. Our daughter was often home, and things had just not clicked in a week or two, which is a long time for us.
“Today a guy I have been talking to asked if my best friend thought he was cute and I was crushed Daddy. I really liked him and when he wanted my friend it hurt.” She said, pulling me into her arms and hugging me.
I could hear her cry and felt her sob in my arms, her breaths short and chopped by her cry. I felt so bad for her. I thought to myself how awful it is to be a teenager, and kids really can be so cruel.
“Why do you think he likes her instead of me?” “She’s been sleeping with everyone at school, and she’s a slut Daddy.” She said.
“Hmm, that’s a tough one,” I said, holding my tongue, mentally searching through my new Rolodex for a good response.
“Guys like sluts,” I said, realizing I was using the opposite Rolodex, the one probably labeled, ‘Things to never say out-loud to your daughter.’
“Why?” She said, hungry for information.
“Because having experience is sexy,” I told her, rubbing my hand on the smooth skin of her upper thigh under the cover of the blanket.
“I guess your right dad.” She said, relaxing her body and adjusting her legs slightly.
“I know I probably shouldn’t be asking you this, but did you do anything with this boy?” I said.
“You mean fuck him?” “No.” “But I probably should have.” She said.
“What did you guys do?” I asked, feeling my heart start to jump, knowing I had little control of what my daughter did and didn’t do with boys she met.
“I don’t know if I want to talk about it, daddy.” She said.
“It’s up to you baby, but I think I can help you if you let me,” I said.
“Well, we talked on the phone, and then he…”
“Go on.,” I said.
“He drove me home from school and…”
“And?” I asked.
“…and parked the car, and we kissed.”
“See that’s not so bad, you can talk to me. So what was the problem exactly? I asked.
“I don’t think I know how to kiss good Daddy.” “What makes a girl a good kisser?” She said.
Wow, this was a hard question. I tried to think back what it was like being a teenager and learning how to kiss when suddenly something popped out of my mouth that was not completely thought through.
“Well, have you ever practiced on your hand?” I asked.
“NO, Eww Dad!” She said.
“I think I remember maybe doing it to practice, I’m not even sure…it’s been a while.” I said trying to think of anything I could remember to be helpful.
“Want don’t you give it a try,” I said.
“You first.” She said.
“Ok fine,” I said, holding out my palm and slowly began pressing my tongue up against it and twirling it around feeling my cock growing embarrassingly hard under her legs still resting on my lap.
“Wow.” She said. “I don’t know if I can do this, but I see what you mean, it looks like you know what your doing and I don’t know what else to do.” She continued.
“I…” She began to say and tried to open her mouth and stick out her tongue and finished.
“I … I can’t, It’s too weird.” “A hand doesn’t kiss back, its not real, its not going to help.” “I guess I need to kiss more boys or watch more porn.” She said.
Deciding not to address either of her last comments I said.
“Look kissing your hand might feel weird, because your holding it up and know its your hand, but try kissing mine and see what I mean.”
“Ew, that’s gross.” She said.
“It’s up to you baby, but I know it will work.” “If you want to be a good kisser and for boys to like you I know I can help you.” I insisted.
“I know daddy, but it just seems so weird.” “I mean, you’re my dad and all, well, my step dad and its just kinda, strange you elvankent escort know.” She said.
“I know baby, but I dunno, I just wanna help you, it makes me so sad to see you like this and hearing this and all.” “Plus, you really shouldn’t be doing any of this anyway, but I’m glad to know you aren’t very experienced yet.” “That’s a relief,” I said.
“I’ve kissed boys before dad.” “And done other things too, I just don’t tell you.” She said.
“You have?” I asked.
“Yeah, hello?” “Of course.” She said.
The way she said it made me feel uncomfortable. How many guys had she kissed? Was she still a virgin? Here I thought she was innocent, and now I’m not so sure, maybe she wants just to get really good at it, like sharpen her skills or something. Oh Geez, I thought to myself.
“Look, I’ll tell you what. Kiss my hand, and I’ll tell you if you’re a good kisser. At least that way you will know if its something you need to work on.” I said.
“You don’t think that’s a little weird?” She asked.
“I guess some people could think that way if they didn’t understand the context. Like if your mother walked in and you were licking my hand, but then again she always is suspicious of us.” I said, trying to make light of the situation.
“Yeah, maybe your right, she is, but I don’t think a lot of daughters are out there practicing kissing with their daddies.” She said.
“It’s not like were doing something else,” I said.
“I guess your right daddy, it’s not like were fucking.” She said, giving me the all too familiar ‘Dad your gross’ look again.
Something about hearing her say the word “fucking” really turned me on. Something about hearing her talk about boys also was killing me. I hadn’t remembered a time that I had been this horny I thought. I was extremely thankful to have a blanket covering me because my cock was hard as a rock.
“Look, if kissing your hand scares you, then yes, maybe you need to practice a little and get over it, become more comfortable with it before you go kissing boys,” I said.
“Ok fine, I’ll do it, but you have to promise to tell the truth.” If you think it’s good or not.
“Ok I promise, but you have to promise to tell me everything you’re doing with the boys you are seeing,” I said.
“That’s not fair, I don’t have to tell you anything if I don’t want.” She said.
“You’re right, you don’t have to, but if you want my help, then you know you can be open with me, and I will help you any way that I can. And I’m sure I know more about kissing than the boys your age.” I told her.
“You’re right, Ok fine.” She said.
“Deal?” I asked.
“Ok deal.” “But don’t get grossed out if I tell you raunchy stuff dad.”
“I won’t baby girl,” I said.
I held my hand up, and she moved over closer, so she was practically sitting on my lap now. I could feel her bare skin up against my leg and felt extremely wrong having a hard on while she held my hand.
“So what do I do?” She asked.
“Well, just kiss my hand as if you were kissing your boyfriend,” I said.
She pulled my hand in closer and put her lips up against my palm. I felt my cock throb in my boxers like a ticking clock. I then felt the wetness of her tongue against the palm of my hand and saw her face as she licked and twirled her tongue around until the inside of my hand was almost dripping with her saliva. I could make out glimpses of her bra inside her tiny shirt as she moved, and I watched her tongue and lips like an animal stalking its prey.
“Daddy, this doesn’t feel right.” She said. I began to panic thinking I had crossed the line, what were we doing? She’s right, this is not good.
“You’re right,” I answered immediately, about to push her legs off of my lap.
“Kissing your hand doesn’t feel right, it’s not even close to the real thing.” She said.
I felt the feeling of relief wash through me realizing she was talking about my hand not feeling right, not any crossing of father-daughter boundaries like I had suspected.
“I have to kiss a real mouth for me to actually practice.” She said.
“Your hand doesn’t have a tongue or lips or anything daddy. This was a stupid idea. Now I don’t want to keep my end of the deal. This isn’t fair. I don’t think it’s a deal unless I’m actually going to be learning anything.” She said.
“It’s still fair baby girl. The truth is I think you are a good kisser. Even though it’s just my hand, I could tell.” I said.
“How?” She asked.
“You’re tongue was doing the right things instinctively, and you had the right amount of passion and heat. I guess it could have been wetter and a little sexier, but it was a really good kiss.” I said.
“How about this, why don’t you finish telling me what you did with this boy who made you upset and then you can decide if you want to keep the deal or not.” I said.
“Ok fine, but if it grosses you out don’t get mad at me.” She said, giving me fair parental warning of what was to come.
“Well, lets see…” She said.
“He asked for my number at emek escort school, well first I had seen him looking at me, actually I had seen him staring at me, you know, like looking at my tits and down at my legs when he talked to me. Looking at my little shorts and stuff, and then he started passing me notes in class asking me questions.” She said.
“Like asking you what?” I asked.
“He asked me if I was a virgin, and I said yes, and he then asked for my number. And sometimes instead of passing me the note he would put it in my front or back pocket himself trying to touch me a little.” She said.
“Oh, ok go on.” I managed to say.
“Then we started talking on the phone, and he wanted to talk about sex all the time, and sometimes I would finger myself while we were on the phone because he told me to, and he told me he was jerking off to porn while we were on the phone, and he would make me watch the same porn he was watching while we were on the phone, telling me he wanted to do all the same things to me as on the movie, and it made me horny, and then he drove me home and we kissed and he fingered me and I gave him a blowjob and let him cum in my mouth.”
“I see.” Were the only words I was able to utter. My cock was severely aching and hearing this stuff made my head spin. I was furious like any father would be but at the same time I felt it was better having this kind of open communication in our relationship so I could control what she was doing or about to do with the boys she was talking to.
“Now that I told you, I think its not fair that I’m learning by kissing your hand. I just told you everything, and I’m still going to be a bad kisser daddy. This is so totally not fair.” She said.
“I want to practice on a real mouth.” She said.
“I see,” I said, not even realizing what I was answering to. I was so lost in my thoughts. All I could think about was her saying that someone came in her mouth, and she let a boy finger her. She seemed way to young for all of this to be happening, and I couldn’t picture for a second my little girl getting fingered or someone cumming in her little mouth until now. And now that those thoughts were racing through my mind it was difficult to concentrate.
“Ok great, then it’s a deal.” She said.
“Ok. Fine.” I answered. And then asked. “What’s the deal exactly?”
“You teach me how to be a good kisser using your mouth instead of your hand and I will keep telling you about the things I am doing with the boys I am talking to.” She said.
“Whoah, that’s not what I said, baby,” I said trying to pull myself out of the quicksand.
“You’re no fair daddy, and you tricked me.” She said, storming off going up to her room and slamming the door hard.
I told myself I needed to calm down and hopped in the shower to cool off. I poured some conditioner in my hand and barely even made contact with my cock, and it exploded all over the wall of the shower. I couldn’t remember having an orgasm like that in a while, and as I came I was hoping it would put out the fire of thoughts that was burning a hole in my mind, but it didn’t do much good, by the time I was drying myself off, my cock was standing at full attention again and my train of thoughts about my daughter never even blinked.
I put on a bathrobe and walked up to my daughter’s door and knocked.
“Baby, can I come in?” I asked.
“No, leave me alone.” She said.
“Please baby,” I said.
“Not unless you agree.” She said.
I stood outside her door for what seemed like an eternity feeling trapped until finally I heard the words come out of my mouth.
“Ok fine.” “It’s a deal,” I said, and I heard her unlock her bedroom door.
“You sure?” “You’re not gonna change your mind again?” She said.
“I’m sure,” I said, walking into her room. A room that I was beginning to realize she was outgrowing. A room that spoke of a girl half her age, covered with pink and purple and furry stuffed animals.
“Then prove it.” She said, holding my hand and pulling me further into her room and sitting me down on her bed.
“If you want to help me, daddy, you need to teach me how to be a good kisser, and that means using your mouth to practice. Your hand isn’t anything like the real thing, and I’m not going to learn anything that way.” She said.
“I guess your right.” I managed to say praying she didn’t see my hard cock in the pajamas I put on after I had gotten out of the shower.
“Let’s pretend you just came over to study.” “How do I make sure that you go home thinking I’m the best kisser in the whole world?” She asked.
“Well, I guess first we would have to be studying,” I said, trying to sound as un-sarcastic as possible.
“Ok, here’s a book.” She said pulling out one book for me, and one for herself.
“Do I make the first move or wait for them?” She asked.
“Good question, always let guys make the first move but tease them, so they want to make the first move,” I told her, realizing maybe I did have knowledge that was useful.
“Like what? Give me an example?” She said.
“Ok, well, first make sure you are dressed in a cute way. Like you are now.” I said, looking down at her cute oversized t-shirt, that barely covered her long legs. I could easily make out her nipples, which seemed especially hard through her practically see-through bedtime shirt.