A Dangerous Game

"No. I wore this especially for you. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I like it. I fucking love it." I sighed, knowing this was trouble, knowing this was reckless, knowing this was way too dangerous. But I couldn't help myself. I glanced at my watch, checking how much time I had, then I lifted my hand up and cupped her right breast through the soft material of her nightie, squeezing it gently, as my thumb massaged her nipple.

"I'll be back soon."

"Yes, but . . ."

She stepped closer, still giving me that damned look and biting her lip, eyelashes fluttering.

"Can I see you, Daddy?" she purred.

As she spoke, her fingers brushed against the front of my pants, just barely touching my prick. . . my rock-hard prick.

"Jen . . . " I whispered.

"Can't I just see?"

I stood rigidly still and silent for a second, then hissed, "Fuck!"

"Lock the Door."

She did, in a flash, then grabbed a pillow and slid to her knees.

"You have to be quick, baby doll," I hissed at her.

"Mmmm . . . let me see . . ."

To begin with, she barely moved. She just stared dead ahead at the huge mound in my pants, like she was in some kind of trance. Her body gently swayed and rocked. She couldn't keep still, she was so turned on. Then, slowly, gingerly, as if she was reaching out to touch something that may have been electrified or scalding hot, but she didn't know for sure, she pressed her hand against me. She quietly sniggered, pleased with her newest discovery, her newest toy. Then she gently massaged my dick through the layers of material. She looked up at me, wanting my approval, my permission. I nodded.

She struggled, quite a bit, with the fly, since my cock was pressing against it so hard. I had to help her fumbling fingers and eventually yanked it out. And then I stood there, stroking her soft hair, as she gaped at my fully erect, thick and meaty 9-inch dick, sticking up like a truncheon from my groin.

She gasped, and looked up at me, her brown eyes genuinely shocked.

"It's all yours, hun," I whispered.

"You promise?" she said, as she reached out and grasped the shaft with both hands.

"I do, baby."

Good god, what were we doing. Her mother was sleeping right across the hall. But it was simply too hot. Initially, exactly like she promised, she just stared at it. I could feel her hot breath against my skin, as she examined it for a while; as if she couldn't believe such a magnificent, perfect cock existed. Then, tentatively at first, she touched it, weighing it, measuring it, squeezing it, then greedily exploring it with her palms and fingertips, tracing all the little ridges and veins, occasionally glancing up at me with glittering eyes. Her nimble, curious fingers found my aching balls and gently cupped them, then slithered up my belly. She touched and stroked everywhere while wriggling her hips and rocking back and forth on her clit.

It was too much. I glanced at my watch one more time, and then I was pushing her head down onto it before I even knew what I was doing. But she was ready for me. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, her lips parted and I could feel her tongue touch the head of my cock. Her pink, probing tongue, lapping around the mushroom shaped glans, then tickling the tiny slit. I hissed in air through my teeth.

She pulled her head away, looked up at me again, and smiled. Then she took me fully into her mouth, sucking on the head of my prick, her tongue continuing to tease and taunt; I could feel it slurping round the ridge of my glans. Exploring. Savoring. Sucking.

All this time I had been standing holding my peaked military cap tightly in my hands. So tight my knuckles were white. But now I quietly placed it down on a chest of drawers. One hand I rested on that piece of furniture, trying to steady myself, trying to make sure I would keep my balance . . . and the other I placed on the back of her head; firmly, insistently pulling her forward. Her mouth widened as more and more of my dick slid inside her.

I said I did things with my daughter I couldn't believe I would ever do. Letting her blow me while I stood in her bedroom in my uniform was certainly one of them. But once I felt her lips on me, I got over the disbelief pretty damn fast.

I don't know if I've ever been that hard or that aroused. Jen had both hands working the shaft as she bobbed up and down, slurping and feasting and licking as eagerly and hungrily as a baby at a bottle. Clearly she loved it just as much as I did. I leaned back and let her fuck me with her hot little mouth, stuff her lips with my cock like she could never get enough of it.

More and more of the shaft slid into her mouth, as she started to gag and choke. Saliva rolled down her chin, dripping onto her nightie. Every so often, she would pull back, and my dick would spring free. She would gasp, gulping for air. Then she would look up and smile at me, her beautiful smile, and then swallow me down once more.

There was an obscene violence to all this, almost balletic in its beauty. My legs jerked and spasmed as I got more and more turned on. My sleepy princess was on her knees with her mouth stretched wide, gorged on my cock, spit dribbling down her cheeks, one hand plunged underneath her nightie to frantically rub her clit at the same time. She masturbated in an almost frenzied way as I fucked her mouth. All you could hear was my grunting, her panting and gagging and choking.

My hands were now firmly holding her head, pulling her closer, making her suck deeper and deeper. I wanted to be completely inside her. I needed it. I could feel her deep-throating me with lusty abandon. I started to push and pull, fucking her. Her lips were slack, her mouth was wide, as I pumped my dick in and out. My eyes never left her face. I was in an erotic trance at the sight of my slippery, shiny shaft pumping in and out of her mouth as she blissfully sucked and licked. I could have watched it for hours. I wanted to project it on the wall and have us both watch. Our own little show. Just for us.

"Good, baby," I whispered. "Take more. Daddy looks so good in your mouth."

I was desperately close to coming, and I knew I wanted her to swallow every drop.

"Are you going to drink Daddy's cream, baby?" I hissed.

The only reply, her grunts and groans.

I could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. She was clearly more than a little discomfited by what she was doing, but she didn't care. Neither did I. It had to be this way. It was her act of devotion. Her act of submission. Choking on her father's meaty cock, straining to contain as much as she could in her mouth and throat. Both of us knew how important this moment was, the companion piece to our night in the pool house. This obscene sculpture we had formed together, as she blew me, strumming her clit like a demented banjo player.

"Make Daddy come, Jen," I said, as absolutely quietly as I could. "Let me see you make Daddy come."

But after I said it, she's the one who began to come. She shook and moaned—or tried to—instead little chirps of gagged pleasure came from her throat, which immediately sent me off. I grunted and heaved as I began to come inside her. It felt like there was gallons of the stuff, shooting out in hot creamy ribbons. I held her head in my hands as I pumped my cock into her mouth and her throat, further and further. I just needed to cum inside her. Cum so hard. Inside my little princess.

I watched my dick pump my cum into her mouth, watched it run over in thick streams from the corners of her lips and drip onto her nightie, watched her swallow, and watched her come at the same time. It was so intense I thought I was going to pass out.

After what seemed like a lifetime, but must have been no more than a few seconds, my senses slowly returned. I was now sitting on the chest of drawers, my still semi-hard cock hanging there in front of me. Jen was sprawled on the floor, gasping and groaning. She was covered in sweat, her skin a glowing pink. We looked at each other like we'd just given birth together.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I wanted nothing more than to wrap her in my arms and throw her on the bed and fuck her right then and there. Then stay in bed, all day, kissing and fucking and coming again and again. But I had to go, I had to go. I grabbed some tissues and cleaned up and zipped up, then yanked her up from the floor and planted a wet kiss on her lips, her cheeks, her shoulders, her nipples.

"You naughty little bitch," I whispered in her ear. "You're amazing."

I kissed her again and again, before I reluctantly picked up my hat and put it on to go.

+++

I was so aroused I could barely get through the day. I fumbled through my report, gave a lame speech to some new officers, and did some inspections like a robot on auto-pilot. I could think of nothing but her. If I stopped for two seconds all I could see were her pink lips lovingly sucking me, stretched around the shiny shaft of my cock. The image rooted down, deep inside, like I'd ingested some magical pill that had triggered the very mainsprings of sex and lust in my brain.

I texted her, that afternoon, like a damned horny teenybopper. I was in my office, supposed to be doing paperwork. My mind drifted to Jen, and the next thing I knew I had my phone out.

Hi baby.

From her response, I take it she liked it, because she sent a smiley face that exploded tiny red hearts all over my phone screen.

Can't stop thinking about you.

She sent back a purring cat emoji

Daddy misses you.

I miss you, too.

Are you wet?

Again the purring cat emoji

Are you thinking about my cock?

Hearts again.

You naughty little girl, sucking me like that.

A devil smiley face with horns

You planned it.

Not all of it

You were trying to make me late. You knew I couldn't resist you.

What about you? Uniform, hello.

You liked that?

Purring cat emoji

Noted.

I'm so glad you texted.

I shouldn't be. Daddy is supposed to be hard at work.

You missed me.

I did, kitten.

And you want me.

I do, hun.

Then when can we be together?

I hesitated for only about ten seconds, then said the first thing that came to my mind.

Tomorrow

Where?

I'll pick you up from work.

And go where?

I don't know. We'll figure it out.

It was reckless, I knew it was. I was going to skip out on half a day's work and play hooky to go fuck my daughter. At the same time, I couldn't see us lasting more than 24 hours. I knew I couldn't. But to honest, I wasn't thinking of anything but carrying this through to the end.

+++

I haven't said much about my wife. But that's because there's not much to tell.

Lisa was raised in a military family. That's how I met her. Her father was my commanding officer at one point when I was coming up, and I'd see her around the base.

It was obvious from the day we met that we were made for each other, in all ways but one. To me she was the ultimate catch. She was gorgeous and connected and completely understood where I was coming from. She knew this life, and she wanted it as much as, if not more than me. She, meanwhile, always knew she wanted to be married to someone exactly like her father. And then I came along. I was young and handsome and obviously destined for big things. She took one look at me and saw the future.

It's not a marriage of convenience. I do love her. My wife is a sweetheart, beautiful inside and out. But I would be lying if I said our relationship was based wholly on love. It's not. We have a very successful marriage mainly because of our lifestyle and our kids. If it was just the two of us, it would probably be a different story. But then she knew that going in. She knew I'd be gone half the time. She knew exactly what it meant to be a military spouse. She loves the social part of all of it, the status, and she's very happy. I make sure of that.

We always had a great sex life—but there was the one catch. I was always enough for her, and she wasn't for me. She could never understand this other side of me—and not just the sex part. My wife, like my sons, is wholly and completely invested in the myth of the Boy Scout. I'm always playing a role, but they're not. I don't know why some people rebel, and others don't. Why some never seem to question life at a deeper level, and others do.

Enter Jen.

She was no dummy. I'm sure she figured out a long time ago that her mother was very conventional when it came to sex, and that she was on her own in that respect. She had learned to adopt a mask, just like I had. We never talked about her mother. Not once. Perhaps that was our way of acknowledging it. What we were doing had nothing to do with Lisa, so why bring it up?

Did we feel guilty? No. There was a hurricane bearing down on us, and we were both perverse enough and realistic enough about who we were to refuse to say no. It was what it was. In all honesty, I think we would have felt more guilt if we had ignored it.

+++

That night, after dinner, we met at our spot behind the pool house. In seconds we were all over each other making out and rubbing and stroking. There wasn't much to say. I asked her if she was on the pill. She said yes. Then I whispered in her ear, "I'll pick you up at 3:00. Be ready. I'll have something figured out by then." She nodded, and then we went back in.

+++

The pharmacy where Jen worked was near the horse farm, by the beach. I drove there the next day not knowing what to expect. All our other encounters had been highly unpredictable, which was part of the excitement. As soon as we were alone we seemed to draw something out of each other we couldn't control. I was intensely curious as to what that might be, this time, but I didn't pretend to know. All I knew for sure was that I had a swollen cock, a bubbly nervousness in my gut and a slight touch of fear.

I saw her red curls from across the parking lot of the mini-mall where she worked. She was dressed somewhat oddly in a baggy sweatshirt over a short white mini-skirt. Not that it mattered. As soon as I laid eyes on her the realization that this was really going to happen and I was really going to fuck her my whole being seemed to drop down into my groin. My cock became a lightning rod, a throbbing, heat-seeking missile, a giant emergency light pulsing red hot.

"Hi," I said, when she hopped in.

My voice was quiet, tense.

"Hi," said Jen, her voice higher than usual.

"Come here," I said, gently, drawing her to me. She was literally trembling. My left hand slid to her thigh, then moved higher, my fingers seeking out her pussy. She needed it. I could tell. She needed me to feel her. And when I did, I sucked in air through my teeth.

"Fuck," I hissed.

She was so wet. Unbelievably wet. Her pussy was drooling, her panties nothing but a sodden rag which I pushed aside. I sunk two fingers insider her as she widened her thighs, gasping and making those little helpless chirps.

"Relax, baby, relax," I whispered.

"Mmmm . . . mmmm . . ."

"Are you ready?" I said.

"Mmmm hmmm," she said, burying her face in my neck, inhaling my scent. Her hand found my cock, stroked it, never stopped stroking it as I drove, intent on getting to wherever we were going. I had planned to take her to a nice hotel in the city. But it was obvious that was not going to work. Too far. Too complicated. All we needed was somewhere to go. I drove, one hand on the wheel, the other in her cunt, fingering her, as I scanned the beach, the shore, looking for a place, any place, eventually pulling into a seedy-looking, 1970's era, aqua and pink motel called the "Ocean Breeze." Seagulls hovered overhead. A broken neon palm tree blinked haphazardly on the front lawn. It would do.

Jen had her hands all over me as we checked in. Cuddling me from behind, cupping my ass, kissing my neck. I asked for their "best" room. The Mexican woman behind the desk gave me a look and slid me a key. "Yeah, sure. The 'honeymoon' suite."

"Thanks," I said, with a wink.

At least it was on the second floor, and it had a balcony with a nice view onto the ocean, barely 50 feet away. But the interior was dingy. There was a ceiling fan that didn't work, a double bed with parrot-patterned bedding, a few faux paintings on the wall and that was about it. Not that we cared.

As soon as we got inside I tossed the keys, locked the door, and ripped off my tie and shirt. Jen stood motionless, looking at my cock visibly straining through my thin slacks, just obscenely bulging against my thigh, like she wanted to back away and rush towards it at the same time, like it was a curious yet threatening animal someone had let loose in the room.

I came towards her and gently pushed her up against the wall, my powerful biceps pinning her in. She tore her gaze away from my cock to look at me, her eyes drowsy and drunk with lust.

"What's going on here?" I said, tugging at her baggy sweatshirt. "Why don't you take this off?"

"Ok," she said, and slowly began to peel it off. I had to help her when the arms got tangled in her curls.

"There we go—"

Oh. I stopped dead in my tracks. Jen looked up at me with a guilty look, biting her lip, gauging my reaction.

She was wearing a tiny, tight little baby T, cropped high above her white skirt, showing her flat, sexy tummy. No bra, the material so thin and clingy her puffy areolae were perfectly defined through the pink cotton. Emblazoned across her chest was the word "Princess" written in glittery, silvery font.

"Do you like it?" she asked, though I'm sure she could tell from my reaction that I did.

I just stared at her.

"You did this for me?"

"Yes . . .".

"Would you do something else for me?"

"Mmmm . . . what?"

"Would you take your skirt off?"

Jen held my eyes, not blinking, as she did as I asked, and wriggled quickly out of her skirt and tossed it aside.

I looked down and hissed through my teeth, sucking in breath. She had shaved, completely bare. I cannot describe how fucking hot it was, Jen standing there in her sparkly Princess top with her naked pussy beckoning below, her clit peeking out between her labia, and shifting, widening her hips to let me see.

"Did you do that for me, too?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Now let me try and explain this.

Jen and I had always been "in love" with each other, in a way only a daddy and his little girl could ever understand. I was helpless before my love for her. Weak, powerless. I would do anything for her. My tough veneer melted into nothing when she batted her eyes or gave me a pout. Our love was bone deep and ineradicable, as natural and necessary as the blood pumping through our veins or the air we breathed.

And then this. Somehow, neither of us ever knew why, something had caused that love to change, mutate, as in some chemical alteration, directly into pure, raw sex. We couldn't marry each other, didn't want to marry each other, but we could, and did, want to fuck each other.

Which is all a way of saying that her sexy little T was like the match to the chemical combustion, setting it aflame. It was perfect. As perfect as her baby doll nightie, but somehow more aggressively obscene and dirty in just the exact way we both needed. She may as well have tattooed "I Belong to Daddy" right over her pussy.

It was too fuckin' much. I unzipped, not even bothering to kick my pants off, and yanked my cock out. Jen glanced at it, and her nipples hardened through that teeny little T. We were both panting like dogs. Then, using the wall as support and leverage, I lifted her right leg and hooked it onto my hip, her other leg I draped over my shoulder as I held her ass steady with one hand. She was now pinned like a butterfly, her dripping pussy completely open and vulnerable. Thank the good lord above that she had been a state champion in gymnastics, three years running. Her supple, flexible body was going to be such a joy to play with in the coming months and years. I took a firm grip of my cock and lined it up with her enflamed, engorged opening. I looked down at the head nestled inside, ever so slightly, and her wet swollen lips trying to draw me in, pulling and yearning and demanding, and cursed that I didn't have a camera. It was the hottest fucking thing I'd ever seen. My cock was as thick as my wrist, the skin so tight it was shiny, the veins engorged and pulsing, such a sick contrast to her smooth, pretty pink pussy. I wanted to film it, draw it, paint it, cast in gold and bronze.