Hi, my name is Shiela. I'm a fun loving five foot seven, red haired, green eyed, eighteen year old.
Despite my slim build, they tell me I'm rounded in all of the right places, and I'm good enough looking to have a steady stream of would be lovers trying to woo me.
I have no intention of settling down any time soon, and at the same time, see no reason why I shouldn't avail myself of everything the opposite sex has to offer.
But this story is not about me, it's about my Dad. I've lived with him ever since my Mother died when I was nine. He has been everything to me, and I'm sure that he has given up opportunities, just so he could be with me, to be able to take care of me.
No matter what needs doing, Daddy does it. Many might think it is hilarious some times. After all, who would think of your father buying your first bra, mine did. He did the laundry too as well as cooking the meals and keeping the house clean.
I'm sure that Dad loved my Mother, but if he mourned her passing, he kept it to himself. Of course, there were things we did together in her memory, like put flowers on her grave for her birthday and things like that.
Dad never messed around with women either, despite a parade of women who made no secret that they would like to get him in their pants. Mom had told me that Dad had been quite the ladies' man when he was young, whatever she meant by that.
Of course, all of this was something that didn't mean anything to me as I was growing up. Oh sure, there were the boys that wanted to show me theirs, if I would show them mine, and that could be fun. But that all changed when I started to become sexually active, I started to look at my Father as a sexual object. It became fun for me to watch him when he was around sexy women, especially when he would get a hard on.
As well, I started to appreciate that my Father was a handsome man. He looked distinguished not like the casual good looks of the boys that I dated, but handsome nonetheless. I started to compare him with the young men that I knew, and while he was no athlete, he was well put together.
When I was sixteen, we went to an afternoon garden party. There was a married woman there who was sexily dressed and was coming on to my Dad. She was really laying it on, and there was no doubt that she was trying to seduce him. Watching what was going on was turning me on, and when she reached down to feel his hard cock, I went off in my pants.
That night when I was out with my current boyfriend, I damn near raped the poor guy. I'm afraid he didn't even know what hit him. I couldn't wait for him to fuck me, I wanted his cock in me now. That was accomplished by simply pulling his pants down without any ceremony, getting his cock deep in me as I straddled him, to fuck him silly. Did wonders for my reputation too, you know how boys will talk!
It was more than a year later that I felt Dad's cock for myself, and that was an accident. But accident or no, I had felt it and it was big. That turned me on, but what really turned me on was the realization that this time, my Dad's erection was for me. That came as a shock!
Despite the fact that my Father's hard on had been caused by my body, there was no question of that, or that the experience had turned me on my Dad never gave any sign that he was even aware of what had happened.
It was a different boyfriend this time, but the result was the same, and he was the one who benefited. I was so horny, he simply couldn't satisfy me no matter how much he fucked me, and he did try, believe me.
Dad had never done anything to me anyone would ever consider improper. He had never felt of me, or tried to get a peek at me as I was growing up and maturing. He must have worked at it, because I was an exhibitionist and I never caught him peeking.
Modelling a skimpy play suit for Dad, I had whirled around, caught my heel in a rug and landed in his lap. That was when I felt his hard cock pressed against my ass. I was surprised at the revelation and mortified that I had fallen in my Father's lap, no doubt hurting him.
Up until that time, I had no idea that my Father ever noticed my development as a woman. Of course, I wanted to be noticed by the man that I loved all of my life more than anyone else. But I had never had any idea that he might be looking at me and lusting for my body. At the time it surprised me, but I was so busy scrambling out of his lap that I didn't have time to sort out the implications.
Nothing changed in the way that Dad related to me, but my relationship with him was changed forever. There was proof positive that he wanted me, not to pat me on the head like a good little girl, but to fuck me like a real woman. And if he wanted me, that is what I wanted too. I wanted to please my Daddy in every way that I could.
At the same time, I became something of a bitch, doing whatever I could to turn him on, and watching his crotch to see if it was working. That was when I gave him little peeks at my treasures, or little demonstrations of the horny little slut I was becoming.
There was ample evidence that he was getting turned on by my little revelations, but he never made a move to do anything about it, or even speak of it.
On the other hand, I wanted to fuck him. I wanted his hands all over my body. I wanted him doing all kinds of erotic things to me. I had never been with a mature man, but had this fantasy that a grown man would know what to do to drive me crazy, not experiment with me for their own pleasure like the guys I knew had been doing.
Of course, I knew that our fucking would be incest and I knew that was immoral if not actually illegal. I knew too that tampering with the gene pool was not a good idea at the best of times. Maybe I was overconfident, but I had confidence in my birth control method, and it had never let me down so far, even though it had been tested often since I started fucking. I had no intention of getting pregnant, and the stricture of incest didn't bother me either.
I wasn't about to rape my Father. That might have been OK with some boyfriends, but would never do for him. I started a undercover program to seduce my Dad. I went out of my way to make myself agreeable to him, hugging him, 'accidentally' rubbing against him, and becoming a little 'careless' with my clothing.
I started to check on the TV programs my Father was watching, and when I found he was watching a program I liked, I sat with him on the sofa. Gradually I started sitting closer to him until he had to feel the heat of my body beside his own. Sometimes, I would give Dad a kiss on the cheek as I got up from the sofa at the end of the program.
Once, when the program was pretty scary, I asked Dad to put his arm around me and I cuddled up to him, pretending to be afraid. Before long, I always cuddled up to him when watching TV. It was kind of fun to see Dad's reaction to what I was doing. He never objected to anything I did, but he never started anything on his own either.
One time when I noticed that he was really turned on, I reached down and put my hand on his hard cock. He didn't do or say anything, nor did I. From that time on, my hand was on his cock just about every time we watched TV, and nothing was ever said about it.
Gradually, our sessions started getting more and more intimate until one evening, I simply reached down, undid his pants and released his cock, then held it until the end of the program. Nothing was said, and after the program was over, I started to stroke his cock until he climaxed. It was hard to fathom what he was thinking, but it was obvious from his moans that he really enjoyed what I was doing, even though he didn't say anything.
That made me thing that Dad was never going to do any thing to me, the way things were now anyway. I had just about done everything I could to him, and I certainly wasn't satisfied with what I had accomplished. I mused about what I could do for some time.
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