TEASING DADDY'S COCK
Chapter 1
Dan almost tripped on the white tennis shoe just inside his back door.
"Damn. Every time she comes to visit, I end up being the maid."
"Not that I don't enjoy Michelle's summer visits," he thought as he bent
to pick up the second shoe, but she could at least give him a few days to get
used to her being in the house before she started being sloppy. He hadn't even
seen his sixteen-year-old daughter since she got off the plane, and already his
pristine home was becoming a teenage paradise. She was three days earlier than
expected, and he hadn't taken the time yet to kid-proof the house.
A pair of slightly soiled gym socks littered the stairs, three steps
apart. He picked them up gingerly, catching the fragrance of teenage toes. Dan
stuffed them into his daughter's shoes, as he bent to pick up the wadded T-shirt
on the first landing. Faded jeans barred his path at the top of the stairs, and
he followed the trail of pink panties and bra down the hall.
"I guess my girl's getting bigger," he thought, holding the lacy bra up
before him. "Seems like those cups were only an 'A' or 'B' year before last. Now
look, she's already wearing out a 'D' cup". He knocked on the door to her room,
and waited. No answer came, so he opened and tossed the clothes into a pile on
the bed. No daughter, no luggage. He wondered what was up. Probably out looking
for old friends.
It had been a long day, and he needed a drink. His girlfriend was out of
town for going on the second, and the abstinence was getting on his nerves. Dan
whipped his tie came off, and dropped his sport coat across the back of the
couch on the way to the fridge. He pulled the handle on the antique Norge
upright and found three brown bottles with long necks gracing the inside of the
door. No twist tops for him, he thought, as he reached for the double-ended
church key on the arched top of the icebox. "Sheffcoat Paints" he read, thinking
of the old days when almost everyone you dealt with had a useful advertising
handout.
He turned the bottle up and felt the first cold sip pass his lips when
the voice from upstairs called him, "Daddy. Daddy, aren't you coming? Don't you
want to see me?"
Dan shoved the cap back onto the bottle with the palm of his hand and
slipped it back into the old Norge. Anxious to see Michelle for the first time
in nine months, he turned down the hall. "Daddy, I'm in here," she called. "I'm
in you and Mama's room."
He and her mom hadn't been married since she was nine, but she still
insisted on calling the bed room theirs. Not that anyone soft and cuddly had
graced those pillows since his girlfriend, Fumiko, had gone to take that seminar
in Chicago. It would be another week until she returned. "Come and see me
Daddy," she called. Somehow her voice sounded deeper and more mature than he
remembered.
Dan almost froze as he opened the door to his room. It wasn't just the
fact that she wore one of her mother's sexy gowns, or that the diaphanous
material clinging to her every curve and hollow left nothing of her voluptuous
young body to the imagination. Michelle was stretched wide across the white
chenille bedspread, chained in a classic spread-eagle position between the dark
walnut posts of his canopy bed. Under the white cotton canopy, a pair of steel
cuffs held each wrist, and a dark leather cuff held each ankle wide apart. Only
a pair of see-through panties pretended to protect her lightly furred feminine
mound.
"Hi, Daddy, " she said cheerily. "How do I look?" He was too stunned to
speak. The fragrance of feminine arousal was strong in the air, and he fought to
remind himself the budding young beauty bound so helplessly to his bed was his
own sixteen year old daughter. There was plenty of slack in her chains, but she
posed, holding herself wider for him than the chains made her. It only made the
spread position that much more erotic.
"Do you like me like this? Am I really sexy?" Her voice was impetuous,
and she writhed suggestively as far as the chains would allow. The tinkle and
jerk of the chains showed how truly helpless she really was. As Dan watched, his
daughter arched her back slightly, proudly displaying of her round and prominent
young breasts, so firm and buoyant in her youth, that the large mounds quivered
but remained erect even though she lay on her back. Sheer blue, material lost
its hold on the quivering slopes of a prominent mound, slipping slowly away like
a theater curtain to reveal a perfectly shaped breast of milky white girl flesh,
capped by a rose-pink nipple already semi-stiff with arousal.
"What do you think you're doing?" Dan tried to put aside the fact that
she was blatantly trying to excite him, that he found his daughter beautiful and
highly arousing. But the impatient parent role was uncomfortable.
"I've been waiting for you," Michelle pouted, " And you haven't said you
were glad to see me, yet."
"No, I mean, what are you doing like that on my bed?" His eyes looked
around for the key to the hand cuffs.
"The airlines. They lost my luggage-as usual-duh." Her language reverted
to typical teen for a moment. "So I was just looking in your closet for some of
Mommy's old clothes, and found these hand cuffs underneath. The leather ones
too. How come you saved all those gowns?
"Anyway, there were these pictures of Mommy while she was handcuffed to
the bed just like this, and I wanted you to think I was as sexy as her. So I
fixed your camera on delay to take a picture of me. But then I was all chained
up and had to wait for you."
Dan glanced to the tripod in the corner of his bedroom. There on the
floor below his auto-focus instant camera was a single print. He picked it up,
and stared at the beautifully clear picture of Michelle in spread-eagle bondage.
Her pretty face wore an exaggerated expression of teenage lust, and she was
thrusting her hips upward, obviously ready to receive a man.
"Well, you can't do this," he said firmly, tossing the picture to the
dresser. It landed next to several of his treasured photos of his ex-wife she'd
found in the closet. They showed his ex securely tied or bound in various
helpless positions. He retrieved the 8X10 of his delicious girlfriend, Fumiko,
from the waste basket, and tucked it into his sock drawer. Lucky it hadn't been
broken. "Where did you put the keys?"
"Right here," she said. Michelle arched slightly lifting her trim,
muscular tummy. She wriggled lewdly, making her breasts jiggle. The other side
of the gown fell away as she moved, exposing her other lush breast.
"I had them pierced," she said, glancing down at her torso. For the
first time Dan noticed the tiny gold rings piercing her pert nipples. "They keep
me aroused all the time, and they're so sexy, don't you think?" The small chrome
handcuff key hung dangled from the ring on the nipple she had just exposed. He'd
have to actually remove the ring before he could use the key.
"You won't tell Mommy will you?" Her expression changed from sultry
woman to little girl and back. Some little girl, he thought. It was going to be
a long summer. He watched her pink tongue dart across full lips just a little
too red from her mother's old lipstick. Probably found it in the closet, too, he
thought. That color had gone out of fashion years before she began caring about
dressing up. "What are you going to do with me?"
Dan's feet seemed to move of their own volition. "You can do anything
you want. I couldn't stop you." She jerked one handcuffed wrist meaningfully
against its short chain. "Anything. Anything at all."
Suddenly, he shook his head, reminding himself the girl on the bed was
his daughter. He fought back the urgency of his erection growing in his pants.
He reached toward her pierced pink nipple, but only to remove the key from the
ring. His daughter's breast was soft and warm beneath his hand. He held it only
firmly enough to remove the ring from her pierced nipple.
"Don't you want me?" she asked, her voice rising to a high pitch. His
hands shook a bit, feeling the firm softness of her breast beneath his fingers.
The nipple was soft and tender, but immediately hardened to a thick pointed
finger as he opened the ring and pulled it from her piercing.
"No," he lied, desperately pushing the excitement between his legs into
the back of his mind. Her mother's nipples were like that too, he remembered.
Perfectly round, and the color of a pink rose in the morning. How had he managed
to forget the way they darkened as they hardened with passion, elongating as
they shrunk and stiffened into thick, sensitive stalks.
Chrome locks fell open as he freed his daughter's wrists and unbuckled
her ankles. "Now go to your room and put your clothes back on. And stay out of
my closet."
Michelle hurried out, ego crushed by rejection. She stopped just outside
the doorway and angrily undressed. A wad of blue lingerie shot by him to the
bed. In a flash of totally nude teenage beauty, she tossed her black hair from
her face and disappeared.
Dan picked up the pictures from his dresser, almost ready to rip up the
picture of Michelle spread helplessly across his bed. The air still smelled of
her female arousal and too much perfume as he stood looking at the photos. How
much she looked like her mother, he thought. Her breasts were not yet as large
as Marie's, but they were more firm, standing up higher in that bondage position
than Marie's. He remembered Marie's nipples being just as erect, softly rising
and falling with anticipation of being taken.
His mind flashed briefly across what he would have done to her mother
years ago, had he found her in a similar position. He stashed the pictures in
the back of the drawer.
