Getting Ready For Prom

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Chapter Two

It was while he was disrobing that he realized this was all real. He was about to expose his erection to his baby girl. That wasn't unusual in and of itself ... but the setting was different. The purpose was different. The fact that she was obviously eager to see it was what made it impossible to resist doing.

Then, when he finally stood up, his boner jutting from his loins, she didn't close her legs. That protective hand on her belly moved, but her fingers didn't bar entrance to her pussy lips. Instead one finger went back to stroke a circle around her clit.

"It's beautiful," she said, softly.

"Really?" He'd always thought of it as ugly, bent, gnarled.

"That made me," she sighed. "That actually made a baby!"

"Which is why I don't want one of them inside you," he admitted.

"I know you're supposed to touch me, but can I touch you, too?" she asked.

"The boy will want you to," he said.

"Some of them have tried that, but I always said no. I never wanted to touch them. I don't feel that way when I think about touching you, though."

"I suppose you need to learn how to handle one. Boys can get aggressive."

She was a fast learner, so fast that his mind tried to tell him she'd done this before. He couldn't imagine that, though, so he pushed that thought aside.

"This is fun!" she said. "I never thought it would be fun."

That reassured him it really was her first time.

"It's fun for me, too," he said.

"Remember when you taught me how to rub?" she asked, stroking him slowly.

"Of course," he said. He'd felt a little guilty about that, too, back then, but had rationalized that she needed to know how to do that to control her feelings.

"I knew right away that I'd do that a lot," she said. "I loved it."

"You're supposed to," he said. "It's a valuable tool for a girl full of hormones."

"I wanted you to do it again," she said. "But you never offered to, so I got used to doing it myself."

"Daddies aren't supposed to do that for their daughters."

"Other daddies," she said, stroking smoothly. "When will your semen come out?"

"It's complicated," he said. "It has to be done just right."

"I'm doing it wrong?"

"Not exactly. I mean if you kept going, eventually it would spurt, but the speed and grip - and my mindset - have to be just right to get it to go off on command."

"What mindset?"

"It helps if I'm thinking about making love to a woman," he said.

"What woman do you usually think about?"

"Well ..." He didn't finish. She looked at his face and saw it was inflamed. There weren't any women in his life ... except her.

"Me?" she guessed. That guess sent a thrill through her that made goose bumps appear on her body. Her nipples also erected instantly.

"I shouldn't," he groaned.

"It's okay," she said, still feeling amazement that he'd think about her that way. She looked back at his penis. "I know one of these will go inside me some day. I can't imagine that. I've put a finger inside me and there's no room for something like this to go in there."

"Trust me, it will fit," he groaned. His mind alerted him to the inference he'd just made. "I don't mean mine," he added, hastily.

"It's scary to even think about," she said. "Not yours. Yours isn't scary. But it would never fit. I don't care what you say."

"Not mine," he said, repeating her comment, though with a very different meaning. He was thinking about what it might be like feeling him proving her wrong.

That thought got him in the right mind set and suddenly the urge to spew was there, banging on the door to his balls.

"Cindy!" he gasped.

She looked away from his prick - at his face - just as the first soothing jet of cum raced through it, and she missed seeing that first stream arc upwards a foot. She felt it on her wrist as it fell and looked back to see two more shoot into the air.

"Oh look!" she squealed, her mind whirling at everything that was happening. She felt the heat on her wrist. Her hand felt the pulse inside his penis. She knew what was happening, and that she was the one who had made it happen. It was exciting and she wanted it to go on and on.

Of course it didn't, and he soon began to wilt inside her hand. He didn't stop her because it felt too good, but eventually there was nothing to stroke anymore and she reluctantly pulled her hand away. Only then did she inspect the drops of his essence on her wrist and hand. She sniffed, but detected no odor. She knew girls claimed to have tasted this stuff. She'd thought that was goofy before this. Now, because it came from a man she loved with all her heart ... it didn't seem so goofy anymore.

She stuck the tip of her tongue out and scooped up a dollop of the milky stuff.

Bob watched, frozen as she tasted. Her face betrayed nothing.

"A little bitter," she finally commented. "Salty, too. Strange."

"Wow," he said, the word gushing from his mouth. He realized he'd been holding his breath.

"That was fun!" she said. She examined her hand. "Messy, but fun. Be right back."

She jumped up and went to the bathroom, returning with a towel she was cleaning her appendage with. She looked unbelievably erotic still wearing only the hose and garter belt. As she used the same towel to clean his appendage, he felt it trying - unsuccessfully - to become erect again.

"Maybe someday I'll suck it," she said, astonishing Bob.

It didn't get any better when she tossed the towel aside and said, "Now it's my turn. I'm so horny I'm dripping."

What let him take care of her with little concern was the fact that he'd just cum hard and felt fully satisfied. There was no urge to cram her full of his spurting prick. He couldn't, even if he wanted to. He felt like his cock wouldn't get hard again for weeks.

He also wanted to return the favor. He wanted her to feel as good as she'd made him feel.

As good as she looked, he told her to remove the hose and belt, which he knew would obstruct his hand as it slid over her skin. Then he arranged himself on the bed beside her and commenced to rock her world.

Cindy already knew that boys her age lusted after her. That was just a fact of life. She knew men looked at her, too, but had never really been able to believe they'd actually want to do something with her. Like many girls, she assumed adult males would view her as "a little kid". Their genuine sexual interest would be in older women.

Likewise, her own attitude towards males of the species buttressed her assumption that "sex with an adult" was a crazy, impossible thing. She knew a few men who made her nipples tingle, but she'd never thought about actually doing anything with any of them. She loved her father. He was someone she knew she could trust implicitly. He was always there for her. She knew he loved her, and that he would always love her, no matter what. It was that very love they already shared that made her feel like exploring things sexual with him was the most rational and normal thing she could do.

It was, in fact, her well-established feelings for her daddy that made her think of him while she masturbated. He was the only man in her life who she felt close enough to invite into that kind of private moment. The fact that he thought about her while he masturbated got her sexual motor revving. The fact she had just pulled his essence from within his body already had her inexperienced lust index cranked up.

He'd touched her before, of course. He hugged her all the time. He had kissed her countless times. He'd touched her sexual "parts" before, such as when he taught her how to use a tampon, and of course when they practiced with the diaphragm. But what he did now was a new way of touching she hadn't been prepared for. She loved it, but she wasn't prepared for it.

Just the feel of his hands on her body, sliding all over, touching her breasts (new) and her butt (new) and even her hips (new) made her feel like she might melt into a puddle of happiness.

Then he kissed her, a kiss of a kind that was so different than any kiss he'd ever bestowed on her before that she had a hard time remembering he was actually her daddy.

All that was like smoke in the wind, though, when he suddenly, and without warning, slid his middle finger into her swampy pussy and went searching for the mouth of her womb, which had so recently been encased in a protective rubber barrier.

Now ... it wasn't.

It was easy for him to find and the tip of his finger pried at that opening before rimming it over and over again.

Her whole body went into rigor. Fortunately, she'd just taken a breath when he did it, because her intercostal muscles suddenly weren't working. Still, she felt light-headed as he used the base of his finger to maul her clit. Then he sucked a stiff nipple and the shock of that feeling loosened her muscles, letting her expel her breath and get another one, only to go on overload again as he tried to intensify what she was feeling. Her shoulders punched into the bed as her back arched, trying to make sure his mouth didn't abandon her inflamed nipple. Her hips lurched up and her left leg shot out to the side, that heel digging in to help her hips rise. She had the insane wish that he could get his entire hand up inside her.

She felt the part of his hand that wasn't inside her push on her mons, making her butt come back into contact with the bed and his finger began to slide out of her.

"Noooo," she wailed, only to have that cut off like a banana chopped with a cleaver, as he used three stiff fingers to whip back and forth, mauling her distended clit. Again her hips tried to lurch upward, and this time he let her as she gave him even more room to molest her sexual bud. It felt entirely different than what she did, even though her motions were identical when she rubbed off. The pressure he could bring to bear with his big, strong daddy fingers was unbelievable.

It was so intense that she went off like a roman candle. That, alone, astonished her, because it almost always took her at least half an hour to work up to an orgasm. He'd only been touching her for a minute! Or at least that's what it felt like.

But there it was, rushing upon her like the waves of the Pacific Ocean had when she was ten and they visited her aging grandmother in Santa Barbara. The first of those waves had mauled her entire body and terrified her. She hadn't been prepared for the power. She'd seen other people just walking around in the surf, unaffected. But then she'd landed in a heap on the sand and been able to breathe and rub her eyes dry and the situation had suddenly gotten much more interesting. Now that she knew she was safe, and what to expect, it seemed like it had been crazy fun. She'd done it over and over again, just letting the ocean have its way with her. In the end, that day, she was scraped up all over her body, but exhilarated anyway.

She welcomed this wave with no fear whatsoever, though, and as it washed over her body she already knew she'd beg him to make her feel this way again. She wanted to do this over and over again, too.

It was the perfect storm. Just as her brain notified her that things were too sensitive down there for him to keep going, he slid a finger back in her and stopped, just letting it rest inside her, spreading her tissues. He stopped sucking her nipple and just kissed all around it, moving slowly up and over her chin to seal his lips to hers. When his tongue probed, all her former thoughts about how nasty French kissing must be also vanished like smoke in the wind and she opened her lips happily to take in one more (new) thing. It was so gentle and his tongue felt so wonderfully slippery that she felt like she could do that forever.

Finally he lifted his lips and rolled away. His finger seemed to stick gently inside her for a second, and then broke loose. She sighed at the loss as he pulled that invader out of her. She realized she was breathing like she'd just run one of Coach Hudson's suicide drills he loved to inflict on people when he was mad about something.

She rolled her head to look at this completely new man in her life, and saw him breathing easily, a stupid grin on his face.

"Sorry," he said. "I might have gone a bit fast. I kind of got excited."

"You have ... to do ... that again!" she panted.

His grin vanished, to be replaced by a frown.

"That's my point," he said. "This stuff feels so good that even adults lose control. You must never, never let yourself get in that position while you're on a date. If you do, you'll get fucked, plain and simple. You won't be able to resist, and even if you do, he won't be able - or willing - to stop. That's how some women get raped, Baby. Making out a little bit on a date is fine, but when you start getting to the serious stuff then that's when babies get made."

"I don't want to do that with anybody else," she said.

"For now," he cautioned. "And it was wrong for me to do that in the first place. Fathers aren't supposed to feel like this about their daughters."

"I don't see anything wrong with it," said Cindy. "Not for us. I don't know about anybody else, but I don't think we did anything wrong at all."

"I'm glad you feel that way," he said. "I mean the last thing I want to do is freak you out or hurt you in any way. But it isn't normal, Cindy."

"Has our life ever been normal? Most kids have a mom and dad. I don't. Most girls don't have to do the laundry and cook. I do. I'm pretty sure all my friends didn't get taught how to use a tampon by their fathers. I did. I'm even really sure that all my friends would say, 'Ewwww' at the thought of their fathers doing to them what you just did to me. But I loved it. They can be them and we can be us. That's fine. I don't care about anybody else. All I care about is our family and in our family, what just happened was fantastic and I want it to happen again!"

"Cindy," he said, softly. "Honey, listen to me. The only reason you didn't get fucked this time was because I was still soft from having an orgasm."

She blinked.

"You mean you wanted to ... do that? Really?"

"Of course I did," he groaned. "I'm a man. Even though I know it's completely wrong to think about doing that with you, I still wanted to. We can't keep doing this, because sooner or later something really bad will happen."

"But I loved it," she whined.

"And I'd love to climb on top of you and fill your belly with my prick right now!" he said urgently. "But that's crazy. Impossible. Way out of line!"

"Well we won't do that, then," she said. "I agree. But that doesn't mean I can't feel what I just felt again. I'll just jerk you off each time before you do that and then you'll be fine."

Bob knew that was the rationale of callow youth.

But she was adamant. And she was naked, right next to him, her legs still spread, willing - no eager - to have him touch her again.

And he was a man, after all.

He gave her one more orgasm, this time finger-fucking her, using the base of his finger to repeatedly beat her clit until she cried out in ecstasy.

By then, however, he was hard again.

Instead of letting her jerk him off again, he covered his boner and sent her to bed.

Only then did he flog his log, beating it like it owed him money and couldn't pay up.

Things seemed impossibly normal for the next few days. Cindy slept late the next day, not getting up until noon. By then he'd already been to the local home center and was installing the new ceiling fan he'd gotten to replace the old light fixture in the kitchen.

She appeared, naked and hungry, ignoring him as she got something to calm her growling stomach.

She watched him work while she ate and then got dressed to go to her friend Charlene's house.

The next two days went by as if nothing had happened between them at all. Cindy hugged him and gave him pecks on the cheek, but did nothing overtly sexual towards him. Her demeanor was as normal as pie. Each day, when she got home from school, she did her homework and then whatever chores needed doing. She texted her friends, like always, or watched TV, or read a book. As far as he could tell, what had happened between them seemed to have had no impact on her at all.

Had he been able to read her mind, though, he would have known that wasn't the case at all.

Cindy wasn't fully mature, but she was intelligent and she tried to make decisions carefully, using her brain rather than her emotions. One example of that was the fact that Prom night wasn't the first time she'd been an underage drinker. About six months prior to that, at a sleepover, she'd taken sips of rum and Coke until she was tipsy. Her fogged mind knew immediately, though, that this was something that could become addictive. She'd been told that all her life, but now she finally understood it. She'd stayed clear of booze since then, until prom night. She'd told her father the truth. She really had taken only a few sips, fitting in with the others. Some of them had gotten wasted, but Cindy hadn't felt the effect of the little she'd drunk at all.

That had been intentional. The instant gratification of getting drunk wasn't worth the trouble it could cause. Not to Cindy.

Being touched by her father after prom had been the same kind of thing. She knew within seconds that she wanted him to touch her every day for the rest of her life. She had been shocked to her core to learn that sex was addictive! And all he'd done was touch her!

It had been particularly troubling, after she had calmed down and had time to think about it. That was because one of her friends, Veronica Summers, had mounted a campaign before prom to try to talk Cindy into letting Josh fuck her. Veronica was the definition of a 'party girl', who liked to talk about how fantastic having sex was, at least within her tight little circle of friends. She never did anything with them anymore because she and her boyfriend spent every possible minute together. Ronnie was one of those girls who want to believe the fairy tale can be lived, and that everyone will live happily ever after. So she tried to get other girls to jump into the story and do the things she did.

"You should let Josh do you after prom," she had said, a week before the dance. "You don't know what you're missing. You'll thank me afterwards. You'll love it. I promise."

"I'll think about it," said Cindy, knowing that would put Veronica off, at least for a day or two.

Two days later Ronnie pressed two condoms into her hand. "They're fresh," she said. "And they're ribbed," she added, grinning. "Have you told him yet?" She assumed her powers of persuasion had gotten Cindy on board the sex train.

"I'm going to surprise him," said Cindy, slipping the condoms in her pocket. "Not a word, okay?"

"I bet if I told him he'd have a boner for the rest of the week," giggled Ronnie.

"No. Not one word," said Cindy. "I want to see the look in his eyes when he finds out. Promise me!"

"Okay, okay. But he'll probably pop off right away. He'll be too excited. It's okay, though. Guys our age can rejuvenate really quick."

"What do you mean guys our age?" asked Cindy, perking up. "Ronnie. Have you been doing it with some older guy?"

"Maaaybe," said Veronica, unembarrassed. "But I can't talk about it. If anybody found out he could get in big trouble."

"You're a slut!" whispered Cindy.

"I know," grinned Veronica. "But I'm a happy slut."

That had been it. Veronica, assuming she'd converted Cindy, spent the remaining time before prom trying to arrange for an orgy to take place at the after prom party she and her friends were going to. It had been a wild party, that was for sure. There'd been a lot of booze and a lot of making out. Cindy had seen at least five couples go into the bedroom and Veronica had ended up topless before her boyfriend had picked her up and carried her over his shoulder into that room.

It had been interesting to watch, but when she looked at Josh, she just saw a guy she liked spending time with a lot. She liked kissing him, too and it was exciting when his hands wandered. But he wasn't the man she wanted to lose her virginity to. She knew that deep down inside. But she really did like him. She liked him enough, in fact, to be very up front about how she felt. She did that when a very drunk Veronica pushed Cindy and Josh, stumbling along the way, towards the bedroom.

"You'll thank me," she'd slurred.

So, once behind the bedroom door, standing beside a bed that was a disgusting mess, she'd told him she liked him more than any other boy she'd ever gone out with, but there would be no sex.

To her delighted surprise, he'd given out a relieved sigh. "Wow. I was scared shitless you'd want to do that. I don't want to either. All I can think about when I think about that stuff is getting the girl pregnant. That would fuck up my life completely."

"Not to mention hers," Cindy had pointed out, dryly.

"Yeah, that, too," Josh had said, so distracted by thoughts of his own downfall that he missed the tone of her voice.

"So what should we do?" asked Cindy.

"There is one thing I've always wanted to do but was too chicken to ask you," said Josh.

Which is how Cindy had ended up with the top of her dress down around her waist and Josh's lips fastened to each of her nipples in turn. And which is when he ran his hand up her leg under her dress and felt the garter belt. She hadn't minded that. It had even been fun to pull her dress up and show it to him. But when they returned to sharing hot kisses and he'd tried to put his hand in her panties, she'd made him stop and told him the fifteen minutes was up.

She'd made him stop because it was starting to feel like she had when she'd gotten tipsy at that slumber party. That sent up a red flag and she paid attention to red flags.

Which was why it had been so earth-shaking to the teen when no red flag had popped up at all when her father touched her. In fact, she had felt completely safe as she explored something with him she was afraid to do with any other male. Part of her mind had been astonished when, rather than wanting him to stop, she had wanted him to go on!

Afterwards, in her room, lying in bed and masturbating slowly, she thought about how he had wanted to go on, too. It was an accepted fact that men were horny all the time and that most would try to get as far as possible if a girl let them. That was why she had always been so careful about letting a boy get very far at all. Josh was the first to see her breasts, the first to touch them with his lips. He was the first to touch her panties - actually the first to get his hand between her legs at all. She'd wanted to let him go farther and that had scared her.

But when her father touched her she hadn't been scared. Even when she was loving it so much she'd just let it happen.

And the thought of letting him do what he obviously wanted to do - but what he said they could never do - didn't scare her at all, either.

And that was what worried her.

So she took a few days to think about it all. She tried to do some 'what-iffing,' but it was too foreign. She knew that amounted to day-dreaming, or fantasy, rather than rational decision-making.

In the end, she came to the realization that she'd finally met a man to whom she would happily give her virginity. She'd lived with him all her life, but in a strange sense it was as if she had just met him.

Bob was lying in bed reading when Cindy tapped on the open door frame. He looked up and saw she was naked.

"What's up?" he asked, feeling blood beginning to stiffen his penis. He was naked, too, and he placed the book over his traitorous cock to hide it.

"Nothing," she said. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"What about?" he asked.

She took that as an invitation and came to lie down beside him. He felt the fluff of her pubes against his thigh and one hot breast touched his arm.

"We're naked, here," he observed.

"I know," she said. "We've been naked before."

"Prom night sort of changed the dynamic," he said.

"I know," she said, in the same careless voice. "I think it was a good change."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Bob.

"I know you're worried, but you shouldn't be. I feel closer to you than I ever have."

She put one arm over his chest and laid her head on his shoulder.

"So ... why are we talking about this now?" asked Bob. "I mean you haven't said anything for days and now, suddenly you want to talk about it?"

"I've been thinking," she said.

"Oh," said Bob. "Care to share?"

"It's complicated," she said.

"That's the understatement of the century," said her father.

"The short version is that I don't feel like we did anything wrong. I don't think we could ever do anything wrong."

"What does that mean?" asked Bob, feeling his penis become almost fully erect.

"It means what I said," she said. "I don't think anything we ever do together will be wrong."

"We can't have sex, Cindy," he said, softly.

"Okay," she said. "But if we ever did, it wouldn't be wrong."

"It would be wrong on so many levels I can't list them all," he said.

"Maybe for other families," she said. "I'm not saying we have to do that. All I'm saying is that if we did, it wouldn't feel wrong to me. You asked me what I was thinking about, Daddy. All I'm doing is telling you. Don't have a cow, okay?"

"Oh. Okay," he said. There was so much whirling around in his mind that he couldn't pick one thing to actually think about for more than a few seconds. His daughter had just said she'd let him fuck her! That she wouldn't be freaked out if he did it! That she actually wanted to do it?

It helped that all she did was lie there with her head on his shoulder. She wasn't doing anything sexual, with the proviso that being nude with your equally nude father wasn't sexual. He was the one who was reacting sexually. He was rock hard. The book wasn't lying flat across his groin any longer.

Slowly he forced himself to focus on each of the concepts flittering through his mind. What should he do? What should he not do? What was she going to do? How should he react if she did this ... or that? He felt helpless. How had things come to this? Should he get up and go masturbate in the bathroom? Should he get her off and send her to bed?

He had plenty of questions. The problem was no answers materialized in his mind to bring any order into the chaos.

Finally he decided that talking about everything with her might help and his mind came back to the here and now.

Only to find her slow breaths and completely limp body announcing she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Now the immediate issues were more defined. His boner demanded attention. There was no way he could go to sleep in the condition he was in. Especially if her warm, naked body was pressed to his all night.

He moved, disturbing her intentionally.

"Cindy," he said, softly.

"What?" Her voice was high, confused.

"You fell asleep. You need to get up and go to bed."

"I don't want to," she complained. "Can't I just stay here?"

"Honey, that's not a good idea."

"Why not? I'm sooo comfortable. I don't want to get up."

"I understand, Baby," he said. "But I'm not comfortable."

She lifted her head.

"Why not?"

"Sweetie, you can't come in here and tell me you're okay with having sex with me and think it won't affect me."

"Oh," she said, laying her head back down. "I told you we don't have to do anything."

"I know that," he said, frustration creeping into his voice. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to. That ... affects me. I can't go to sleep with you here, like this."

Her head came back up and her eyes went to his groin. She moved the hand that had lain on his stomach just above the book and lifted the obstruction off his rampant prick.

"I can help you with that," she said.

"Cindy!" he groaned.

"What? I can help you. And then you'll be relaxed and won't want to do naughty things with me and everything will be fine."

"You helping me is decidedly naughty," he observed.

"Not as naughty as what that wants to do right now," she said.

"Fuck me," he groaned.

She came up on one elbow.

"I thought you didn't want to do that."

"That's not what I meant," he sighed. "It's just a figure of speech. I'm a little frustrated right now."

"Daddy," she said. "We can't undo what's been done. We can't pretend nothing happened. That is in our lives now. It seems simple to me. If I help you then you won't be all excited anymore and then you can go to sleep. Right?"

"Okay, let's say you're right," he said. "You want to stay here. What happens when I wake up in the middle of the night and get horny again?"

"Then I'll help you again," she said. "But you won't wake up. You sleep like the dead. Whenever I try to get you to get up it takes me ten minutes just to get you to move. You know that."

That was true. Bob wasn't a morning person. Running your own business from home tended to nourish that character trait. It wasn't unusual for Cindy to be long gone to school before he got up and got around.

It was the memory of her soft hand on his cock that tipped the scales. To feel that again would be wonderful. More than wonderful.

And then maybe he really could get to sleep.

Somehow the issue of her staying there faded into the background.

"Okay," he said.

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