In Chapter One of this story Josephine told us about her and her best friend Salma's plan to show Salma's father what Jo's father already knew, that daughters are for fucking. In Chapter 2 Salma takes over as the narrator and lets us know how it works out.

I appreciate the comments about the propriety of using the singular "Daddy's" regardless of whether I was speaking about one or both of Josephine and Salma's fathers. My aim was to treat "Daddy's" as a title, the way the two daughters talked about their fathers, sort of an honorific. It felt sexier to me. Feel free to let me know if you think I succeeded.

As always, all story characters engaged in sexual activities are eighteen years of age or older.

* * * * *

On the way home from watching the soccer match with Jo and Mr. Robertson I lay my hand on Daddy's thigh, as if unaware of his erection inches away. What would happen if I touched it? Would it scare him off? I was tempted, but I wanted Daddy for the rest of my life, best to be patient.

"Daddy, I was having trouble with a couple of problems in calculus, can you help me when we get home?"

"Of course Princess."

"I like it when you call me that Daddy. That's what I want, to be your Princess."

"That's what you are, my forever Princess."

* * * * *

I pushed my tablet and calculator across the coffee table to Daddy; his eyes flickered briefly on my breasts, braless in my sun dress. We discussed my homework, I occasionally leaned forward and entered data in my tablet or calculator, giving him plenty more opportunities to look; his glances grew more frequent, less furtive. Aroused, my breasts flushed, my nipples became erect. Daddy responded, his stomach growled, his cock hardened. Finally I told Daddy I understood, walked around the table, thanked him, hugged him, pressing my body to his, then hurried to my room to masturbate.

Later I checked Daddy's waste basket, he had also.

* * * * *

"Daddy, Jo and I found a place in the back of the state park. It's private, perfect for a picnic. She's going to ask Mr. Robertson, would you like to go?"

"Of course Princess."

* * * * *

Jo and I packed lunch, grapes, cole slaw, and our awesome Thai Chicken Salad, and the four of us rode our bicycles to the park. The nearby stream was clean and secluded - there'd be no unwanted eyes on us - and Jo and I peeled off our shorts and tee-shirts, revealing our tiny bikinis, got into the water, swam a bit, splashed each other, talked our fathers into joining us. They took off their shirts to my and Jo's delight - they were well built and nicely muscled - waded into the water; the four of us explored, played, laughed.

Afterwards, settled on our blankets, we let the sun dry our bodies, then Jo and I broke out lunch, insisting our Daddy's play sultan, lie on the ground, heads on our laps, as we dropped grapes into their mouths.

That night we watched a movie in Mr. Robertson's home theater, Jo and I cuddled in our fathers' arms.

I was jealous. Jo was playing with her father's thing.

* * * * *

Daddy and I were going to the movies. He came downstairs, stopped when he noticed my discriminating look.

"What is it Princess?"

"With those pants, I'm thinking either your maroon or teal shirt."

"You mean the red and green ones?"

I nodded.

"I wondered if one of them would look better."

I said, "Let's see."

Daddy no longer thought anything of me entering his bedroom while he pulled a shirt off his magnificent chest, of my commenting on how much I liked its light smattering of hair, then trying on several things as I watched and choose his clothes.

It was a guy movie, but I didn't mind. I liked sitting in a dark theater with Daddy, leaning my body into his, our intertwined hands resting on a thigh. Afterwards we went out for coffee, shared a slice of cheesecake. At home I kissed him goodnight, let my lips open a bit, move against his, enough so he'd notice, not so much that he couldn't rationalize it. When he turned on the shower I cracked open his door, heard him masturbating, returned to my room, did the same.

* * * * *

"Princess, would you pick a tie out for me?"

Daddy was nervous. He had a big presentation, it could mean millions of dollars for the company. Last night he'd practiced, we'd polished it together, I'd assured him how good it was. Tonight, whether he got the account or not, we had plans for dinner.

I tied his tie, slipped his jacket over his shoulders, fixed his hair, straightened his collar, stood on my toes, kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, "You're going to knock 'em dead."

Daddy kissed my forehead and said, "You take such good care of me Princess. I'm a lucky man."

"I'm the lucky one Daddy, and this is what daughters are for, to take care of their daddies anyway they can."

* * * * *

Wearing a knee length red and black dress with a plunging neck line and matching heels, I re-read Daddy's text: "Princess, I wanted you to be the first to know, we got the account, I couldn't have done it without you," then entered the restaurant and saw him, so handsome in his blue suit. I told the lady at the desk that my date was already here, moved towards his table; his (and the other men's) eyes lighting up when he saw me. Daddy stood, took my hand in his, kissed my cheek, held my chair for me. We toasted his triumph, ate, celebrated and laughed, he reached across the table and held my hand; I ran my thumb on the back of his hand.

Later that night, at home, as we sat on the couch drinking coffee, I leaned my back against him, he wrapped his arms around me, and I said, "I had so much fun tonight, congratulations again, I love you Daddy."

"I love you too my sweet Princess, y'know I couldn't make it without you."

* * * * *

Daddy didn't blink when I suggested a double-date with Jo and Mr. Robertson to the local comedy club, he'd long ago gotten used to the term. He also didn't blink when I sat close to him, touched him, left my hand on his arm or leg. After all, Jo and her Daddy were doing the same. This night, however, there was a new thing. When Jo and I headed for the bathroom Mr. Robertson leaned over and said, "Carlos, do you find yourself attracted to Salma," the question leaving no doubt that was how Mr. Robertson felt about Jo.

Relieved to hear he was not alone, Daddy said, "Yeah, you too?"

"Yeah. I've read about it, it's apparently common, still, it's good to know I'm not alone."

* * * * *

Daddy was sitting at his desk when, carrying my tablet, wearing a loose-fitting white button-down shirt (two buttons undone) and no bra, I said, "Daddy, can you help, calculus again."

"Of course Princess."

Leaning forward, I placed my computer on his desk, giving Daddy a view of my breasts, the dark areolas, the erect fat nipples, then leaned further forward and logged in, my breasts swaying with my motion.

I guess I could have already logged in, but what's the fun in that?

I stood, Daddy's eyes flicked back to the computer, and he said, "What's the issue Princess?"

Placing a hand on his shoulder, I moved behind him, then leaned forward, flattening my left breast on Daddy's shoulder, and pushed a button on the computer. Knowing he could feel my nipple, fat, firm, and erect, through his light cotton shirt, I shifted position, caressing him with it as I explained my problem.

Daddy answered my question.

You had to admire Daddy.

Saying, "Yes, I see know. Okay Daddy, how about this," I moved to the left, dragging the fingers of my right hand across his shoulders, reached over Daddy's left shoulder, pressing my right breast to his body, entered something in the computer, then lay my open right hand on his chest and in a voice close to a purr asked another question. Despite his rapid heart beat and deep breaths, Daddy answered it.

Daddy's amazing.

Moving directly behind him I ran both hands down his chest, stopping at his waist, inches from his erection, studied the screen, leaned into him from behind, flattening my breasts on his back, said, "Yes, I understand," kissed the side of his head, hugged him, kissed him again.

"Thank you Daddy."

"You're welcome Princess, I'm glad I could help."

Still hugging him I said, "I have the smartest sweetest handsomest Daddy in the world."

He asked if there was anything else, I said no, he said he had to go to the bathroom. When he did I pressed my ear to his door, listened to him masturbate, fingered my clit, hurried to my room to do the same.

* * * * *

The next day we were grilling by our pool, Jo and I looking very hot in our bikinis, our Daddy's very handsome in their swim trunks, when Jo said, "Daddy, y'know what I'd like to do for Thanksgiving, go back to the hotel where we went for my birthday, dance, spend the night."

It was the place they'd become lovers.

Mr. Robertson said, "That would be fun. Carlos, why don't you and Salma join us? A double-date, us and our sweet ladies."

Daddy looked at me, saw my happy face.

"We'd love to Bob."

* * * * *

Salma and I were shopping. We'd scoped out what we wanted on-line, but, taking no chances, were trying them on, making sure they were perfect. When we knew they were Jo said, "It's time to buy our Daddy's presents."

We picked out ties, then Jo stopped before the men's boxers.

I giggled, "Do we dare?"

"Of course we dare. Better get used to it, I buy all of Daddy's underwear. Plus think about it, you in that dress, your Daddy's erection caressed in silk, he'll be putty in your hands."

We gave them the gifts before we left for the hotel. As he pulled the underwear from its box Daddy glanced at Mr. Robertson, saw no discomfort on his friend's face, accepted the gift in the spirit he imagined it'd been given.

* * * * *

I was in the hotel shower, taking my time, enjoying the endless hot water. Over the last months I'd become Daddy's confidant; we'd sit together at the end of each day, vet our difficulties, celebrate our successes. Daddy included me in all household decisions and when I asked him to run an errand on the way home I always got a happy, "Yes dear." I made sure to always look my best around him and while Daddy's compliments had not yet gotten to "sexy" and "hot," they'd moved past "sweet" and "nice." When I leaned forward and exposed my breasts or crossed my legs and moved my short skirt higher on my thigh, Daddy had forgotten to pretend not to notice. When I placed my hand on his while we talked and left it there, or dragged a nail on it, he accepted it as natural. When, cuddling on the couch, when I pressed my breasts to him, he no longer moved away. Our public behavior mirrored our private, we held hands, leaned into each other, touched each other. When people we met on the street - a store clerk, a police officer, a waiter at a restaurant - referred to us as a couple, Daddy no longer bothered to correct them.

Weekend nights were reserved for Daddy, or the four of us, to do something.

Tonight would not be a new thing, it would be the coda confirming what already existed: I was the woman in Daddy's life.

* * * * *

Helping with my make-up, getting it just right, Jo gave me some last minute advice.

"I know your nervous, but that's good. When your Daddy senses you're feeling vulnerable he'll only want to take care of you more. Remember, you're a beautiful woman and your Daddy's a handsome man. Tonight you will become one, just like me and my Daddy; if you keep that in your mind, know it's true, it will become true."

"I will, but you're right, I'm nervous and excited. I can't believe it, tonight Daddy and I will finally be together."

"Yes honey, tonight your Daddy will join his body to yours. When you're dancing with him think about how he'll soon be inside you. If you think about it real hard I promise he will too. Now let's take a look at you."

I stood, moved to the mirror. The red spaghetti straps and scooped neck-line of my bright red dress exposed the upper half of my full firm breasts. I wore my hair down, my gold earrings were small and understated; my lipstick matched my dress and my make-up was perfect: sultry sexy sophisticated. I was available, but only to an exceptional man, a man of class and maturity, a man just like Daddy.

I stepped forward; a red thigh-high stocking clad leg and five inch stiletto heel moved gracefully through the slit that ran half-way up my thigh. All my practice had paid off.

Jo said, "Oh honey, you look amazing."

"Thanks, now let's check you out."

Jo took my place in front of the mirror. Deciding not to compete with me in the eye-popping department, her long silver sleeveless dress was classy, elegant, sexy but restrained. Exposing one shoulder it angled across her chest, clinched at the waist, hung to the floor; a slit ran up her thigh. She slid her leg out of it, showing off a silver stiletto heel held to her foot by three thin straps, one above the toe, one across the middle of her foot, the other above her ankle. Her silver and emerald earrings were long and dangling, her make-up understated. She was breathtaking.

I said, "Jeez, are you beautiful."

She smiled and, it not being the time for false modesty, said, "Yes, our Daddy's will be sporting two very hot ladies, which will turn them on even more."

* * * * *

Jo's phone pinged. "It's Daddy, he's heading for the lobby. I'll let him know we'll be ready in ten minutes."

I said, "But we're ready now."

"I know, but it's best to make men wait. It focuses their attention."

* * * * *

When we emerged from the elevator Daddy, who was talking to Mr. Robertson, stopped mid-sentence as his eyes fixed on me. I locked my eyes on him, let him know he was the only man in the room who mattered, moved effortlessly across the lobby, leaned into Daddy, kissed his lips. A peck, but not a daughter's peck.

I slipped my arm around his waist.

Everyone there thought we were lovers.

He said, "Salma, you look amazing."

There was true appreciation in his voice, for Daddy was a mature man, a man who not only knew his date was lovely, but understood the effort she'd made to look her best for him. There was a time, not too long ago, that he'd been bothered that I was dressed like a sexy young woman, that my dress, my shoes, my make-up, all said this older gentleman was going to get very lucky tonight. But the work of the past months had paid off; tonight he saw me as a woman, his for the evening. He was hooked; all I had to do, with Jo and Mr. Robertson's help, was reel him in.

* * * * *

The maitre de scanned the reservation list and said, "Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Gonzalez, Mr. and Mrs. Robertson. Your table is ready."

Our Daddy's pulled our chairs out for us. We thanked them, kissed their cheeks, sat down, glanced at the menus, laid them on the table, asked our Daddy's to order for us. Mr. Robertson said, "Carlos, I think our ladies are old enough for a glass of wine."

Daddy, his eyes locked on me, said, "Yes, of course."

We chatted, we ate; I leaned towards Daddy, asked if I could to taste his redfish. When he said, "Yes," I ran my neatly trimmed fingers on the back of his hand, took the fork from his fingers, speared the fish, brought it to my mouth, slid the fork back out between my lips, chewed, said, "Thank you darling, it's delicious," then reached across the table and fed him a slice of my veal.

After reviewing the dessert menu I said, "Daddy, let's share the Chocolate Gooey Pie, it sounds delicious."

"Of course Princess."

Jo and her Daddy ordered pecan pie.

Being time to turn it over to Mr. Robertson, I reached over, showing Daddy my bosom, touched his hand, and said, "If you'll excuse me darling, it's time to powder my nose."

Jo said, "I'll join you."

Mr. Robertson, watching Daddy's eyes feast on my departing form, said, "I don't think our daughters have ever looked more beautiful, we're the envy of every man here."

"What would they think if they knew they're our daughters?"

"From the way they're dressed, they way we've been behaving, no one is thinking that."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, sometimes Salma acts like she has a crush on me."

"She's a woman Carlos, it's not called a crush. Oh, here they come..."

Daddy and Mr. Robertson stood, held our chairs for us. We placed our hands on their shoulders, brushed our lips on their cheeks. When dessert arrived Jo and I slid over to share it with our men. When Daddy smeared chocolate goo on his upper lip I caught it with my finger, brought it to my mouth, licked it off, said, "Delicious."

The band took the stage. On the dance floor I nuzzled close to Daddy, whispered, "Hold me, hold me like you'll never let me go," and he moved his hand from the middle of my back to my hip, pressed me to him.

When Jo glided past us she winked; things couldn't be going better.

* * * * *

When the band took its break Jo, her Daddy's arm on her shoulder, said, "Let's go out on the balcony, I could use some fresh air."

I said, "Sounds perfect."

Nodding towards the facilities, Daddy said, "I'll catch up with you guys."

My open palm on his chest I kissed his cheek and said, "Okay, but don't be long, it's chilly outside. I need your arms around me."

The crowd had congregated by the doors, so Jo, Mr. Robertson, and I moved to the end of the balcony, where Jo hugged me, told me everything would work out, moved into her father's arms. I took several steps back, watched their mouths and bodies meld together, stopped I had to stare to discern who they were. Daddy, you see, was too much the gentleman to stare, but he'd peek.

I was leaning on the balcony, my arms folded across my chest, when Daddy wrapped his arms around me from behind and said, "You look cold Princess, do you want to go inside?"

I took his hands in mine, kissed them, dropped my head back onto his shoulder, and said, "No Daddy, hold me and keep me warm; I want to be here with you with no one else around." He nestled his body to mine, sharing his body heat, carefully keeping his erection from touching me.

You had to admire his self-restraint.

"Daddy I love it when you hold me, I love your strong sexy body. I've had so much fun tonight, I love going on dates with my Daddy."

"Is that what this is, a date with your Daddy?"

"Yes Daddy, Jo and I have dated boys, but we prefer our Daddy's. They're smarter and more handsome and sexier and treat us better and aren't all hung up on themselves."

At the mention of Jo's name Daddy glanced at the couple at the end of the balcony; on some level had he made the connection?

I brought his attention back to me.

"Do you like my dress, do you think it's too much?"

"It's wonderful, you're wonderful. When I see you in it, well, my little girl's a woman."

I turned in his arms, dragging my breasts on his body, ran a finger the length of his mouth.

"That is what I want to be Daddy, your Princess and your woman."

"Of course, you're my forever Princess, and my woman."

It was time. I slid into him, pressed my leg to his erection, closed my lips on his; they moved against mine. His hand tightened on my back and while he didn't press his penis into my leg, he didn't pull away. For Daddy, in those seconds, reality and fantasy merged and he found himself acting out the lust and desire he'd tried to bury, hoping they'd never see the light of day.

Daddy and I have often talked about that night. I was surprised when he told me what went through his mind. I'd never been ashamed of my desire for him, it felt natural, perfect; I dreamed of telling Daddy about it. But it was different for Daddy. As he'd come to see me and want me as a woman, he was afraid I'd find out. So, as I kissed him, as he looked in my eyes and understood my kiss was real, that what I said was real, he felt relief. I was not repulsed by his unspoken desire for me, instead I welcomed it.
Then before Daddy could collect his thoughts, before could respond, the couple at the end of the balcony unwound their interlinked bodies and, holding hands, headed towards us. Concern flashed across Daddy's handsome face, then he recognized them.

"Hey Carlos, Salma, Jo and I are thinking of calling it a night. You guys ready to go in?"

"Bob, you, you and Jo?"

I reached for Daddy's hand as Mr. Robertson said, "Yes. Jo and I. I know what you're going through, I've been there myself. Trust your gut, Jo and I is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Jo, the joy on her face underlining the truth of each word, said, "Mr. Gonzalez, Salma and I have been in love with our Daddy's as long as we remember. Why troll teen-age boys when the handsomest smartest sweetest sexiest guys we know are you? Who would we love, who would love us, half as much?"

Slightly dazed by the sudden turn of events, Daddy turned to me, looking for me to say something, to make it all make sense.

I said, "Daddy, Jo and I have been out with the coolest guys in school just because everyone said we should, and at the end of the evening we wished we'd just stayed home with you. Daddy I love you, you're what I want."

Daddy bit his lower lip, looked at me, and said, "Salma, are you sure?"

"Yes Daddy, I've never been surer."

Mr. Robertson said, "She loves you Carlos and you love her. What do you trust, your and Salma's instincts and desires, or the rule made up by someone you don't know for reasons no one has explained that says you can't."

Daddy wrapped his arm around my shoulder, comforting me, sucked his lower lip into his mouth, his brow wrinkled. We all knew that look, his mind was turning inward. He needed time to think.

Wordlessly, we got in the elevator and although I was elated, I controlled my smile. Daddy hadn't said yes, but he hadn't said no. The initial shock hadn't scared him off and when he turned to his rational mind, there could only be one answer. He loved no one, cared about no one as he did me, and knew he never would. He also knew that he'd never find anyone who loved him or cared about him as much as I.

As to those parts of him that were not rational, the primal parts of him, the parts that shone in his eyes when I pressed my body to his, they already knew the answer: daughters are for fucking.

* * * * *

When we stepped out of the elevator Daddy looked to Jo and Mr. Robertson, glowing in each other's company, and said, "How long, how long have you two been together?"

Mr. Robertson said, "It depends on what you mean. After my wife left Jo became, as Salma became for you, the woman in my life; she cooked, cleaned, fussed over me, got me through the black period. Then, when I was ready to re-engage with the world, she got me out of the house. We'd go to dinner or the movies; she'd tell me I was handsome, cuddle with me at night, make me feel loved and special. I grew physically comfortable with her, thinking nothing of her draping an arm or leg over me while we watched a movie or crawling into bed with me at night to talk before she headed for her room. Like you and Salma, Jo and I have been together for years."

Hearing the truth in these words, Daddy reached for my hand.

"Jo started presenting herself to me as a woman, dressing in ways that made it impossible for me not to notice. Salma did the same with you. On Halloween, at the Habitat house, Salma made you see her through the eyes of those young men, made you recognize what those men recognized, that she's an adult, sexually mature, ready and responsible. Once that happened, once you saw her that way, you could never go back.

"If you're asking when Jo and I become physical lovers, remember Jo's birthday? Salma threw a party for Jo the night before she turned eighteen because Josephine insisted on spending her birthday night with me. We came here, danced and, just like Salma, she bought her lips to mine, kissed me, told me she loved me. I kissed her back, full of raging desire, stopped, stammered out an apology.

"Josephine looked at me, her green eyes sparkling, and told me I never needed to apologize, that she was her Daddy's girl, always would be.

"As I listened to her voice I knew that while there was conflict in me, there was none in her. I took comfort in her certainty. We returned to my room, talked awhile, became lovers. It's the best thing that ever happened to me. It will be the best thing that ever happens to you Carlos."

I started to say something, but Jo got there first. "Mr. Gonzales, Daddy and I have been so happy, you will be too. I promise."

I watched Daddy's furrowed brow relax, his eyes soften, and he said, "I'm over thinking this, aren't I Bob? The truth is simple, you and Jo are in love."

"As are you and Salma. And you're right, it's simple. Do you want her?"

"More than I've ever wanted anything."

Jo fished the key card from her small purse, handed it to Daddy, and said, "Why don't you and Salma take your room, Daddy and I will take mine."

* * * * *

I ran the card through the slot; Daddy opened the door for me.

Inside I turned to Daddy. He stopped, looked at me, touched his face, his neck, rubbed his hands together. My normally implacable Daddy was nervous; it was so cute.

I decided to focus on the little things, relieve the tension, so said, "Daddy let me help you," slipped his coat from his shoulders, hung it up, returned, and forearms on his chest, loosened his tie and said, "You wore the tie I bought you."

"I love it Princess."

"Daddy, will I always be your Princess?"

"Of course Salma, you're my forever Princess."

I undid the top button of his shirt, pulled his tie free, hung it with his coat, returned, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it and his tee-shirt off his body, pressed them to my face, buried myself in his scent, set them aside and said, "I love the way you smell. I love snuggling with you at the end of the day, right before your shower, when you smell one-hundred per cent like you."

"I could give up showers."

I said, "Daddy, you're such a guy," kissed his cheek, turned around, said, "Would you unzip me?"

When he hesitated I looked over my shoulder and said, "Consider it a royal command, if necessary."

He said, "As you wish mi'lady," placed a hand on my shoulder, captured my zipper between thumb and forefinger, drew it down. I felt the room's cold air on my back, felt goosebumps erupt on my skin.

As I turned around my dress slid down, displaying more of my substantial cleavage, but still hung from my shoulders and breasts, clinging to my body. It was perfect; it would be sexier if he did not see all of me at once.

Daddy scanned me, up and down, then looked me in the eyes and said, "Y'know Salma, I've barely dated these last few years. I didn't give it much thought, but now I know why. Except for one thing, everything I want in a woman was already here, and tonight we'll do that thing."

I got on my toes, kissed his mouth, told him I loved him. He wrapped his fingers on my forearm, parted his lips, slipped his tongue into my mouth, our tongues entwined and played. Our kiss went on, intensified, his grip on my arm tightened, and when the kiss ended I lay my head on his chest and, my voice trembling with arousal, said, "When I was a little I'd tell the other girls I had the handsomest Daddy. They'd say the same about theirs, but they were silly, their daddies weren't half as handsome as mine. When I got older and said it, they looked at me like I was weird, except for Jo. She understood. Now you do too, now we'll be together."

I stepped back and said, "Would you sit on the bed Daddy, I want to take the rest of your clothes off, I want to see you naked."

He nodded, sat; I knelt, untied his shoes, and, hands trembling in need and anticipation, pulled them off his feet.

I asked him to stand, ran a forefinger on his erection, explored its contours, undid his belt buckle, removed his belt, opened the clasp on his pants, pushed them over his hips, saw his boxers, the ones I'd bought him, considered tearing then off him, but didn't. After all, I wanted Daddy to see me as a woman, not an impulsive girl. Instead I worked his pants down his legs, carried them to the closet, neatly folded and hung them up, which is not easy when your pussy's on fire and your hands shaking with lust and desire. As I did, with a discreet shake of my body I sent my dress slithering to the floor. I stepped out of it, bent over, displaying my behind (I'd worn a thong), heard his sharp intake of breath, hung it in the closet, turned, let him see my full curvy body.

Daddy, eyes sparkling in delight, took in my breasts, full and round, nipples thick, hard, and erect, my stomach, taut and flat, tardied at my red silk panties, stained with undeniable evidence of my arousal, continued down, admiring my stockinged legs and stiletto heels.

With the voice of a daughter seeking her father's approval I said, "You like?"

"Yes, you're beautiful."

I said, "Thank you Daddy," and sauntered back to him. His eyes moved up and down my body, his mouth was open, his breaths deep and steady.

When I arrived I placed my open hand on his chest, tilted my head, kissed his lips, slid my hand to his shoulder, parted my lips, his tongue entered my mouth; I moved my hand to the back of his neck, pulled him into me; our kiss was hard and deep.

When the kiss ended I said, "I love you Daddy, I'm ready to love you as a woman. Are you, are you ready to love me as your partner, your wife?" then, as he said, Yes Princess," I , touched him through his boxers.

"May I take these off?"

"Yes Princess."

I drew them down his body. When the head appeared I circled it with two fingers, rolled the foreskin back, saw a drop of pre-cum, touched it with the flat of my thumb - so thick and creamy - smeared it on his crown, said, "It's beautiful Daddy."

I moved his underpants further down, wrapped my fingers on the shaft. It was warm and hard and soft. I tipped it forward, touched the head to my flat belly, squeezed, felt a drop of pre-cum on my skin, dipped my finger in it and, as he watched, brought it to my mouth and said, "Yum, Daddy, you taste good, strong and salty."

I moved the boxers further down and, for the first time, saw all if it. It was curved, the shaft brown, the head a deep pink, red and blue veins pulsing with blood running up and down it. The scrotum was big, an oversized sac hanging from his body. I went down on one knee, pressed it to my face, enjoying its warmth, loving its smell. I looked up, into Daddy's eyes, flattened my tongue on the underside of the shaft and, starting at the base, dragged it up his length.

Now, I'd never had a boy's thing in my mouth (YUCK!!), but Josephine and I watched plenty of porn, she described sucking her Daddy's cock in lascivious detail, and we'd practiced with her dildo. I knew what to do.

I smiled, stretched my jaw, took the knobby head into my mouth, and ran the tip of my tongue on his crown, into his piss hole, traced the ridge between shaft and head. His dick quivered, leaked pre-cum.

I let him slide from my mouth with a pop, licked my lips, fingered his balls, ran those fingers up his shaft, examining it, enjoying it, pleasing it. When I reached the top I peeled back his foreskin, wrapped my other hand on the shaft, squeezed; a drop of pre-cum trickled out. Looking into his eyes I dragged my tongue on the crown, captured it, savored it, swallowed it, pressed the cock-head to my face, moved it on my cheek, luxuriating in its heat, smell, hardness.

I wondered: how would Daddy, so thick and so hard, fit in my virginal pussy? Jo had told me that when she saw her Daddy's manhood she'd thought the same thing, but told me it would be okay, it would fit perfectly, for Daddy's cock had been made for me and I for it. Daughters, after all, are for fucking.

But there was no hurry. I'd spent years thinking about Daddy's tool, I wanted to study it, smell it, see it, feel it. I frigged it, watched it tremble, the veins on its side glowing as Daddy pumped more blood into it, made it thicker and harder and hotter. The piss-hole dilated, Daddy-juice dripped out. I stretched my jaw again, slipped my mouth over it, swallowed an inch, swallowed another inch, suppressed a gag, breathed through my nose, swallowed two more inches, kept going. He had reached the back of my mouth, but there was still more to go. I knew it was possible to swallow it all; Jo told me she deep-throated her Daddy, said she'd teach me. So someday I would take Daddy down my throat, but it would not be today.

Instead, my face full of cock, I sucked, my cheeks growing concave with the effort, swirled my tongue on his shaft and head, cupped his balls, brought them forward, forced my tongue past my lower lip to lick them. Daddy groaned, ran his fingers through my dark wavy hair, said, "Oh god, Princess, suck it, you make your Daddy feel so good, you make his cock feel so good."

I held his big throbbing testicles in my hand, rolled them between my fingers.

Someday they and I would make a baby.

I pulled down on the base of the shaft, pressed my tongue to its underside, drew my lips up its rigid length, did it again, then again, and again.

"Oh yes Princess, oh yes, just like that."

I turned my focus to the head, holding it in my mouth, tattooing it with my tongue. Pre-cum spilled from it, I looked up, saw the pleasure on Daddy's face, felt the burning need in my sex, knew it was time.

Letting him slip from my mouth with a loud slurp, I moved onto the bed, kissed him, rolled onto my back, covered my panties with my hands and said, "Daddy, before you see it, there is one thing I need to tell you. I wasn't sure how you liked it. Jo shaves hers. I thought about doing that, but if you didn't like it we'd have to wait for it all to grow back. So I trimmed mine. Is that okay?"

Daddy leaned into me, kissed me with the kind of love and affection only a Daddy can, hooked his fingers on the hem of my panties. I raised my butt and, after a brief moment when they clung to my wet sex, he slid my panties down my body. I pulled my knees to my chest so he could work them over my stocking-clad legs and heels.

I spread my legs, showing Daddy my sex.

"It's beautiful Princess, just like you."

He kissed me again, I slipped my arm around him, pressed my fingers into his back, held him to me, our tongues played, danced, curled around each other.

And, as we kissed, we ran our hands over each other's bodies, touched each other in this new way, occasionally stopped, laughed, giggled, smiled, delighting in this amazing wonderful new world.

And I grew hotter and hotter and finally said, "Daddy, I'm ready, I need you" and Daddy moved his body over mine and said, "Are you sure Princess?" and there were tears of joy in my eyes and a big smile on my face and I said, "Yes Daddy," and he lowered his body to mine. I loved the feel of his warm skin and perfect muscles, the way my boobies squashed on his powerful chest, his beating heart. I reached down, wrapped my fingers on it, ran them up and down. It was hard like granite and soft like velvet or silk and I wanted it in me.

Daddy kissed my neck, my mouth, and I thought about his mouth on my breasts. Boys love my titties, stare at them, point at them, giggle to each other about them. They want to touch them and kiss and lick them, but I tell them no. They were for Daddy (and Josephine but that was different, for she was a girl and my BFF and she said when Daddy found out he would be very happy).

"Daddy, kiss my boobies."

Raising himself on his arms, twisting his abdomen, Daddy licked a nipple with the flat of his tongue, pressed it into my breast, watched my breast jiggle as the nipple bounced back into place, turned to the other breast and, starting at the base, licked hard, leaving trails of moisture up the side and across the top, took my nipple into his mouth, sucked it, teased it with his lips, his tongue, his teeth. I covered the back of his head, arched my back, pushed my chest into his mouth. Daddy moved from breast to breast, then pressed my breasts together, licked and sucked and nibbled on my areolas, nipples, all my breasts.

I needed him.

I brought my mouth to Daddy's ear and said, "Daughters are for fucking."

He started to say, "Salma are you...," stopped, saw the look in my eyes, knew the answer.

I said it anyway: "Yes Daddy, I'm sure."

I thought Daddy would just enter me, but he didn't, and for the millionth time I knew I had the perfect lover. Instead Daddy rolled off me, kissed my mouth, pressed the pad of two fingers on my pussy lips, said, "You're very wet."

"Oh Daddy, I'm wet all the time, wanting you."

He spread the wetness around, moved a fingertip inside me.

"Do you play with yourself?"

"Yes Daddy. I play with myself and think about you and come and come and come."

He ran the finger in a circle inside me, not too deep. It felt good.

"Tell me what you do Salma?"

"Well, what I like best is to turn off the lights so it's dark in my room, but not pitch black. I like it when the lights outside come through my window. I bring one of your shirts with me so I can smell you. I put it to my face and breathe in hard and run my fingers up and down my body, imagine you in the pool in your swim trunks, or dressed in one of your handsome suits, or working outside in the yard, your body damp with sweat, and squeeze my boobies and pull on my nipples - they're so sensitive Daddy, sometimes I come just by doing that - and do it over and over. I imagine you're with me and you're naked and I touch my clittie, but I pretend you're touching it, and when I do I feel electricity flow though my body, from my clit to my fingers and toes."

He moved his thumb to my clit — hard and erect like a soldier - said, "Like this?" stroked it.

I'd played with myself plenty of times, but I'd never felt anything so exquisite and perfect and my body shuddered and I squealed, "Eeeeeeeeyyyaaaaakkkkkkkkeeeeeeeeee, oh Daddy, it's so good."

Daddy said, "Tell me how this feels," and slid a second finger inside me and I moaned and he sank them deeper and I moaned again and he moved a third inside me and I moaned, even louder.

His thumb grazed my clit.

"Aaaaannnnnyyyyyyhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

I'd never been this turned on.

"Have you ever had anything all the way inside you Princess?"

"No Daddy. I've used a vibrator and lots of my girlfriends swear by their dildos, they say they're better than boys and offer to let me use them, some even offer to use theirs on me, but I say no. Jo and I agree, our hymens are reserved for our Daddy's. She said it will hurt some, but no one would be as gentle and caring as you. She said it's the most perfect feeling in the world when your Daddy breaks your hymen."

He inserted a fourth finger inside me, twisted them, gentle but insistent; I groaned, my pussy spasmed. Knowing I was ready, Daddy moved atop me, held himself up on his arms, and said. "We're going to go nice and slow, tell me if you need me to stop or slow down, and tell me what you're feeling."

"Yes Daddy."

"Put my penis on your pussy Princess."

"Can I call it a cock Daddy?"

"Yes Princess, put Daddy's cock on your pussy. It's time."

I wrapped my fingers around it, nestled it on my vagina. The tip slipped between my pussy lips.

Daddy-cock was ready to enter me.

I said, "Remember Daddy, daughters are for fucking."

He pushed into me, with the gentlest pressure, but unable to control my desire for him I jerked my hips forward, forced the head inside me, winced. He was big. I felt full in a way I'd never felt full before.

I gasped, "Oooohhhh, Daddy, you're so big, mygodyoufillmeup. Oh Daddy, please Daddy, more, I want more."

He said, "Flex your pussy on me."

I did, Daddy groaned, a delicious sexy groan, and I kept doing it. He said, "That's right Princess, like that, stretch yourself on me, like that, good, ready for more?"

"Oh yes Daddy."

He pushed another inch inside me, stopped. I'd thought I was full, but now I was fuller, couldn't imagine being this full. I flexed my pussy walls on him and said, "Keep going Daddy, I want to be stuffed with Daddy," and he moved further inside, until he was at the edge of my hymen.

I took a deep breath.

Jo had told me about the first time her Daddy entered her. She said I should focus on it, remember everything about it. It would hurt some, but not as much as everyone said, and it was a perfect hurt, for the pain would combine with the pleasure and make the experience so intense that I'd recall every detail. It was the only time in my life when I'd feel this sensation and unlike other girls I would not associate it with the boy-du-jour or a passing teen-age romance, but with my forever Daddy.

Jo said she felt sorry for girls who wasted that moment on a boy they'd already broken up or a random hook-up at a party. That sacred, once in a lifetime experience, should be shared with someone sacred and special, it should be shared only with a daddy.

Her Daddy, she said, was hard and thick and, inch by inch, her body yielded, adjusted, molded itself to him. They had been two, but became one, like a glove and a hand, merged, better together than apart, and now I understood for my Daddy was inside me and our bodies were altering, modifying, joining together. So it hurt, but I was happy, for it was a hurt that I'd share only with Daddy, a hurt that presaged a life-time of togetherness and joy.

"I'm ready Daddy, break my cherry, make me a woman."

He pressed into me, I took a deep breath, Jo said it would help, felt my hymen stretch. It hurt, but at the same time nerves deep inside me, nerves I didn't know existed, were crackling. I'd never felt so much pleasure, never been so aroused.

I'd waited for this all my life. When I was a little girl I'd crawl into Daddy's bed and tell him some day I'd marry him. When I got older I knew I was becoming a woman because I wanted Daddy in the way a woman wants a man even when the rules said I shouldn't. Then I met Josephine and saw the way she looked at her Daddy and heard the way she talked about her Daddy and I knew I wasn't the only one.

Daddy's dick was on my hymen, stretching me; my body, slowly, incrementally, adopting itself to him.

I opened my eyes, he was looking at me.

"Daddy, take my cherry."

He pulled back, a tiny bit, then gently pressed into me, did it again, his motion graceful and kind. As he did the pain inside me became a flickering light, not getting brighter or dimmer, but being outshone by the joy growing in my sex. He kept increasing the pressure and while I'd expected something to tear, the sensation was more like stretching a muscle for the first time, more uncomfortable than painful.

I purred my joy, "Yes Daddy, yes, yes, oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, oh Daddy I can feel it, feel you going deeper, oh yes Daddy, fuck me Daddy, Daddy fuck me," and my hymen yielded and Daddy-cock slipped past it.

I shuddered, he stopped, I dug my fingers into his back and said, "Oh Daddy, ohgodyes. It happened, I love you so much Daddy. Our bodies are one, aren't they Daddy, we're one."

"Yes, Princess and Daddy are one."

"Oh Daddy, it's wonderful."

We kissed, his tongue was in my mouth, and I played with his tongue and I squeezed my sex on him and ran my hands on his back and I realized the pain was disappearing, or was being buried so deep by the pleasure that I could barely feel it, and I squeezed my sex on him and I felt Daddy's whole body shake and knew he liked it and I told him that I'd always be his little-girl Princess, but I'd also be his big-girl Princess, his lover, his fuck-mate, his wife.

I squeezed my cunt on him; he shuddered and moaned.

I moved my mouth to his ear and said, "It's time Daddy, fuck me" and kissed him hard and arched my back, squashing my tits on Daddy's chest, and kissed him again.

Daddy pulled out of me until only the crown remained inside me and looked into my eyes and said, "Ready?" and I said, "Yes Daddy," and he sank back into me, did it again and again, going a little deeper each time, and kept going until he was all the way inside me.

My pussy and my body were made for Daddy; his cock and his body were made for me.

Daddy fucked me, paying attention to the way I moaned and moved and breathed, of the pounding of my heart, the sweat on my skin, bringing me along nice and slow, and as my body adjusted to, accepted, loved, craved Daddy-cock he fucked me harder and harder and I humped back into him, enjoying the smack of our colliding bodies, and said, "Ooooh f..f..fuck oh fuck, yes, oh fuck, Daddy, fuck me," and he filled me with his hard tool and I engulfed him with my tight wet cunt and squeezed with all my strength.

Daddy raised himself on his arms and looked at me and said, "Oh my sweet Princess, it feels so good, oh yes, yes," and I touched his face and our eyes locked together and I said, "I love you Daddy," and he said, "I love you Princess," and now we were pounding into each other, fast and hard, the bed shook and my breasts swayed and his balls smacked against my ass.

"Salma, so good, so tight, fricking wonderful wonderful wonderful."

I rotated my hips, moved in circles and ovals, twerked into him. Daddy grunted, his jaw locked, his eyes clenched shut, his focus on his cock and his daughter's sweet tight virginal pussy.

"FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME DADDY."

I wrapped my legs around his waist, caressing his skin with the sweet soft silk of my stockings, locked my ankles together, pressed my heels to his ass.

"Oh god Daddy, it's so good."

My pussy was in flames and Daddy's cock felt so good and I knew only it could put out the fire and I knew I'd been right to save myself for this man.

I threw my head back, tossing my dark thick hair to the side, and pumped my hips into Daddy, meeting his thrusts, our bodies banging together, faster and faster. Clawing Daddy's back, I said, "Fuck me Daddy, fuck me Daddy, daughters are for fucking, fuck me Daddy," and Daddy curled his upper body and chewed on my nipples and I said, "Bite them," and he did and my pussy convulsed and he pulled his head away and hollered, "Oh yes, yes, yes, yes," and fucked me harder. He was a hyena in heat, a mighty stallion rushing across the plains in wild unrestrained glee.

I thought about his balls, filled with cum.

"Do it Daddy, fuck me, come inside me, come inside Princess, fill her with Daddy-seed."

Daddy lifted his head, said, "Ugh, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, oh yes, Princess here it, FFUUUCCCKKKKK," screamed, "Oh fuck," and exploded. A tidal wave of thick steaming spunk shot up Daddy-cock, poured into me, surged through my core, crested on my womb. I grabbed him by the butt, pulled him into me, and still he fucked me, this sweat soaked man pounded my soaking cunt, spewed load after load of hot sweet sperm into my hot wet sex.

And, as his cock twitched and jerked, I felt it. First there was sleet, but sleet that was on fire, burning sharp sleet that fell from dark impenetrable skies. Then there were clouds, masses of clouds, swirling clouds, and a howling wind and thunder, noisy and powerful, the kind that makes your brain and bones and whole house rattle. The wind grew stronger, grew in intensity, rendered the rule that said daddies could not fuck their daughters, that daughters could not know the joy of Daddy-cock, of being filled with Daddy-seed, kindling. And then there was only me and Daddy and we were fucking each other as we were meant to fuck each other and a hurricane whipped through my sex and I howled, howled so loud that I drowned out the hurricane, and I came and I screamed, "I love you Daddy, fuck me, fuck me Daddy, so perfect, so perfect Daddy, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," and sweat flowed down my body and a tidal surge of girl juice mixed with the torrent of Daddy-seed and there was nothing but me and Daddy and blinding, blinding pleasure.

As some point, when my mind could focus on something other than the joy that suffused my frame, I found myself nestled in my Daddy's arms, our bodies soaked in sweat, sucking in air. Daddy kissed me, got up, turned out the lights, got back in bed, said he loved me. I snuggled into him, he smelled so good, and said, "I love you Daddy. I've spent my whole life thinking about this moment, anticipating it, imagining it. It was better than all my dreams combined."

And he said I was his forever Princess and I knew it was true.

* * * * *

The best college in the state was on the other side of the state; neither Jo nor I had any intention of going there. We went to the local college, lived at home, studied hard. Our Daddy's brought their businesses to peak efficiency and when we graduated sold them for top dollar and we moved several states away, where Jo and I went to work for the same company (until we left to start our own). Some people did make sort of a face when they first met our husbands, the age difference was striking, but not for long, for they'd never known two more devoted couples.