Hot Daughter Hot Tub Bang

I'm a hot fit blonde bombshell, and I just turned eighteen. If I followed the standard "dumb blonde rich chick" playbook, I'd be having a wild birthday party at a friend's house, taking eighteen shots of brandy and letting a bunch of crew team jocks slurp more of it from my belly button (after telling my father I went out golfing at the Greenwich Country Club.) But I'm about as far from the dumb blonde stereotype as a girl can possibly get. I have a 4.0 grade average, and I won the American School Scrabble Championship, and I'm going to Oxford in the fall as a history major. And, strangest of all . . . I'm still a virgin, and I've never even had a boyfriend. My heart belongs to daddy.

I'm sitting next to my 44 year-old father in our luxurious living room on a cold February night, savoring sweet slices of sacher torte while gazing at his multi-million-dollar art collection on the walls. My Austrian grandmother passed down the recipe to my mother, and my mother made it for us every month . . . until she divorced her CEO husband. It was a long, drawn-out, painful separation, leaving permanent mental scars for all three of us. This is my first birthday without Leni there to share the love.

I take another delicious bite of chocolatey apricot-y cake while gazing longingly into Roger Keofferam's big brown eyes. Good looks run in the family. I've been dreaming about fucking daddy for so long. Every single night, and many times during the day too. It can't be normal for a girl to have that many incestuous fantasies about her father. (Sigmund Freud would have a field day with me. True to my Austrian heritage.) Leni moved to Chicago to run a commodities investment firm, burning her bridges away from Connecticut, leaving my father's queen size bed without a queen.

"Wow, this sacher torte sure is scrumptious," Roger beams while touching his curly brown hair. I inherited my athletic prowess from him, while my blonde alpine milkmaid look is from mommy's side of the family.

"Rinaldi's is the best bakery in Fairfield County."

"But it's still not as good as your mother's sacher torte," he sighs wearily.

"I really miss her," I sigh back. "I know it's killing you just as much. Cake is a pale substitute for sex."

"I suppose you're right," he snickers, glancing subconsciously at his daughter's amazing breasts. (Perkier than mommy's hooters.) "But let's not think about that tonight, Katie. This is the biggest birthday of your life. You're a woman now, and I'm so proud of all your accomplishments."

"Thanks, daddy. I'm the smartest girl at Greenwich High School, and soon I'll be the queen of Oxford."

"You're prettier than Princess Di, and smarter than Jane Goodall. Luscious 'eye candy' for all those one-percenter high school dudes."

"Stop it, daddy. You're embarrassing me!" I giggle loudly.

"I love embarrassing you."

We finish our decadent dessert, then he grabs a gift-wrapped box with a silky red bow on top.

"Time to open your present, sweetie. I'm sure you'll be . . . pleasantly surprised."

I take the box and smile at the wrapping paper, covered with Daphne Blake. The hot redhead from Scooby-Doo. That tacky cartoon paper screams: "You'll always be daddy's little girl."

"You're right, daddy. I am a blonde Daphne."

"Reah, reah! You're a real rolden rombschell!" Roger remarks, poorly imitating an iconic Great Dane. "This present will make you look even better than that airhead ginger."

I rip Daphne to shreds, eager to be spoiled even more. Inside is a red silk-coated box from Pierre Cassel, a high-end haute couture Paris designer.

"Ooh, fine Frenchie fashion. Just what I need to break the ice at Oxford."

I open the glossy keepsake container . . . and my jaw drops open in shock.

"Oh my god, you got me a bikini for my birthday?"

"That's no ordinary bikini, honey. That's a $900 Pierre Cassel Femme Gem set. I saw a supermodel wearing it in Vanity Fair. It'll look even more fabulous on you."

"Oh my god, oh my god!" I shriek in girlish glee, pulling out two skimpy pieces of high-end swimwear. The top part has two glittery green triangles bound by a 12-karat golden ring in the middle, with green spaghetti straps flaring out. The bottom part has two slightly larger pieces of red glittery fabric, bound by two more 12-karat rings and red spaghetti straps. Sexy as hell.

"I fucking love it, daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I jump out of that easy chair, leap onto his lap, and give him a big wet kiss. Surging with repressed erotic energy, feeling intense buzzing desire between my legs.

"You're welcome, Katie. You'll have to wait a few months to show it off at Greenwich Point beach, but it'll be worth the wait. I'm sure it'll get you your first boyfriend."

"I know you can't wait to get your daughter off your hands," I remark while massaging his shoulders. I know there's a beast lurking behind his stuffy white-collar facade, because he always "played rough" with Leni. I jump off his lap and take another look at the shiny fabric.

"Damn, these golden rings are like men-magnets. A bunch of guys I don't know at the beach will think I'm America's Next Top Model."

"But you're actually America's next expert on eighteenth century British colonial geopolitics," he beams, admiring my coke bottle figure through a blue Chanel dress.

My incestuous urges have returned with a vengeance. A very naughty idea surges from the back of my mind, and I'm powerless to stop it.

"I think I'll try this on right now, daddy."

"Right . . . now?"

Before I realize it, I'm pulling that dress over my head, revealing my high-end lacey black lingerie. Roger looks just as shocked as I did a moment ago. I giggle girlishly while peeling off my bra, stockings, garter belt, and panties. (I love that vintage style, like a blonde Betty Boop.) He laughs incredulously, seeing me completely naked for the first time since I was seven; taking a bubble bath in a spacious Carrara marble tub. I can't believe it either . . . but this mutually Freudian moment was years in the making.

"What do you think of my body, daddy?" I ask sweetly, twirling around slowly on the living room carpet, showing off my tennis-toned ass.

"I love your body, honey."

I keep giggling while sliding that awesome bikini over my pale sleek curves. Goosebumps rise on my flesh in the dead of winter, despite the good central heating in this lavish mansion on the windy shore.

"It fits just right. Like a sexy glove," I boast proudly, tossing my lustrous blonde bangs.

"You're the sexiest woman I've ever seen," he groans with clear arousal. The rising bulge in his pants makes it even clearer.

"Naughty daddy, getting hard just looking at your daughter."

"Well, it's your fault for getting naked," he chuckles.

I strut back and forth from one end of the living room to another, horse-stepping like Gisele Bundchen during Paris Fashion Week. The buzzing between my legs gets even stronger, with estrogen hijacking my rational mind.

"Damn, I'm getting cold in this itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny bikini," I utter seductively, wiggling my hips for emphasis. "Let's go downstairs and take a dip in the hot tub."

I grab his right hand, pull him off the couch, and lead him toward the back den.

"But . . . what about my bathing suit?"

I flash a big naughty grin back at him. "You don't need one, silly."

"But . . . but . . ."

"Stop acting like a prude, daddy. You went skinny-dipping with Leni so many times, late at night after I went to bed. You thought I'd never find out, but of course I did."

"Naughty Katie, always snooping around," he snickers. We turn left near a back window, glancing at our big outdoor swimming pool and hot tub, near a private beach on the dark Long Island Sound. The pool and tub are both drained and covered until the summer. I lead him down the basement stairs and into our "winter paradise" lounge room, with a fully-loaded Hawaiian-themed liquor bar that my parents used to butter up their international investing clients during cocktail parties. My father still throws those parties almost every weekend. Another big hot tub sits on a raised wooden platform, surrounded by gaslight Tiki torches. I flip a switch to light them up, then I flip another switch to turn on the jets.

"Damn, I love this crazy luau set-up," I beam while stepping up on the platform. I gradually lower my slender busty body into the hot bubbling water, sighing luxuriantly. "Oh god, that feels so good after the hardcore Pilates session I did today. Come on daddy, take off that stuffy business suit and join me!"

"Oh my god, I can't believe this," he chortles incredulously.

"But I know you want it. Hurry up and get naked for your big-spending client, Mister Keofferam."

He chortles louder, then he bravely shucks off his starched shirt, revealing a nicely ripped set of muscles. His love of physical fitness certainly rubbed off on me. The rest of his body soon appears. Still fully aroused, much to my delight. His erect penis is about nine inches long, making me moan with unfiltered teenage admiration.

"Nice dick, daddy. I can't believe Leni gave that up!"

"Me neither," he replies sarcastically, easing into the churning cauldron. "Awww yeah, that's the stuff."

He sits right next to me on the aquamarine bench, wrapping his right arm around my slender shoulders, with the powerful hydrojets massaging our lower backs.

"I'm so glad I decided to stay at home with you for my birthday," I murmur while running my fingers through his hair.

"Those high school rave parties were so overrated in the '90s, and they're still overrated now."

"I love you sooo much, Mister Keofferam. I'm gonna prove it to you."

"How?"

Without even thinking about it, I stand up in the tub and peel the boutique bikini off my glistening wet body. Slowly and tantalizingly, like an old-school stripper. Oh my god, this little "party" is spiraling out of control. My brain is on auto-pilot, heading straight toward a mountainside. I twirl both pieces on my right index finger while giggling playfully. Then I toss it onto the concrete floor of the basement, with the golden rings making a nice metallic clinking sound.

"That $900 bikini looks even better off," Roger groans, with his own brain obviously on auto-pilot. I get down on my knees between his muscular legs, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck. A savage beast is lurking behind that proper facade . . . and I'm desperate to be ravaged.

"What are you doing, Katie?"

"What does it look like? I want you, daddy."

"Holy shit," he murmurs throatily, reeling with desire.

"I know you've been thinking about me every night when you jerk off. I've been thinking about you too, pretending my dildo is your dick. It's driving me crazy. I fucking need you."

I kiss him hard, pressing my body forward against his huge penis. Nothing can stop me now. Tons of emotional baggage pushes us both forward; lost in an isolated upper-class dreamscape.

"Oh god," he gasps when I pull back. "I need you too, honey."

He shoves my body forward with his strong arms, smooshing my big tits against his ripped pecs. He kisses me harder, jamming his tongue deep into my mouth. My own tongue thrusts forward to meet the challenge, desperately seeking a full physical union with father, no matter the consequences. My pussy throbs intensely against his prick. Hot within, and hot without. The sloshing gurgling water drowns out any other sounds from our mansion and the ritzy neighborhood beyond our curtained basement windows, leaving us laser-focused on perverted satisfaction. I reach down in the dark swirling depths and grab his long thick shaft with both hands, making him groan loudly.

"Fuck yeah, squeeze that big dick, girl. Harder!"

I squeeze it as hard as I can, making him groan even louder as my hands slowly twist up and down those nine thick inches.

"Is this the first handjob you've gotten since mom left?"

"Oh yeah. I've been going crazy in this crazy rich town, with no sex at all."

"Really, daddy? You haven't been banging any secretaries at Pinnacle Equity Management? No skanky hedge fund interns?"

"No way. I've been too busy dreaming about you, ever since I signed those divorce papers."

"Aww, how sweet. This is just a temporary under-the-table contract with your daughter, so we better make the most of it."

I push myself backward off his burly shoulders, floating to the middle of the tub. I kneel down on the aquamarine plastic and squeeze my tits underwater, giving him a slutty head-cocked open-mouth leer.

"Get over here, Mister Keofferam. Daddy's little girl wants to suck his big fucking cock."

"Yes ma'am, my beloved honor student."

I giggle sweetly as he gets up and assumes the position in front of me, pointing that thing right at my full red lips. I grab the lower shaft firmly, looking up at his face with a mock innocent expression.

"I'm still a virgin, daddy."

"Damn. It's hard to believe the hottest girl in Greenwich has never gotten fucked."

"I haven't given any blowjobs either."

"In that case . . . school is back in session. Time for Fellatio 101."

"Teach me real good, daddy," I groan seductively.

"Okay. You have to start off slow, and gradually build up the tension. Start by licking the tip, smooth and gentle."

"Like this?"

I stick out my tongue and move it in slow circles around his pink cock-head. The chlorinated water adds a curious bitter tang to his fleshy flavor.

"Oh yeah, that's good. The most sensitive part is on the back side of the tip, right where the foreskin starts."

I press my tongue hard against that wrinkly sweet spot. He tilts his head back and groans toward the basement ceiling. I keep licking right there in tiny firm circles, savoring his intense pleasure. I reach down in the water and work my clit the same way. Moaning in naughty harmony with daddy.

"Good job, honey. Now, most guys don't like it when you stick your tongue right in their pee-hole . . . but I do."

I jab my tongue hard into that tiny vagina-like orifice, making him groan louder. I flick my tongue slightly back and forth in there, driving him crazy.

"Oh fuck, yeeaaah. You do that shit just the way I like it. Just like Leni."

I pull my tongue back into my mouth and giggle at his face. "Like mother, like daughter. We know exactly what we want, and we fucking get it."

"Get that fucking dick in your mouth, girl."

I open wide and shove his thick sausage between my lips. Rocking my head rapidly back and forth, growling against his meat while jacking my clit. It feels so good to pleasure myself and my father at the same time. An intense perverted thrill.

"Oh god, oh god. You know I like it rough, bitch!"

He's treating me just like his sex doll ex-wife, and I fucking love it. I skullfuck him like hell, growling fiercely, until dizziness slows me down. I toss my wet blonde hair with one hand and squeeze my big tits with the other. Feeling so good, like nothing else in the world matters. (For a rich girl like me, that's usually true.)

"Twist your head up and down the shaft to add some friction. Like this." He grabs my head with both hands and twists it in a slow gentle pattern, back and forth, back and forth, halfway down the long shaft. I love how the friction feels on my puckered lips and taste buds, and he loves the feeling even more. He lets go, and I make damn sure to keep going just the way he likes it. Faster and faster. Oh my god, I never thought sex with anyone could be this hot. And we're just getting started! The steamy bubbling water gets me hotter in both senses of the word, breaking a good sweat.

"That's it, baby-girl. Suck your daddy's dick real good, just like you always dreamed it. You always get what you want, and I love giving it to you."

A minute later, I pull out and look up at his face with my big blue eyes while stroking his big dick with both hands.

"God damn, I love those nordic doe eyes. Just like your mother. Suck my balls, bitch!"

"Yes sir, Mister Keofferam," I giggle sweetly. I push his mighty manhood up against his abs of steel, and bury my face in his wet hairy testicles. Rubbing them all over my lips, slurping the chlorinated folds in every direction.

"Get those balls all the way in your mouth, bitch. Suck 'em hard."

I follow his instructions to the letter, loving his loud guttural reaction. I lock my teeth around his testes, gradually stretching out his sack.

"Oh god, oh god, let go!" he exclaims in mild pain. I open wide to eject his balls, and he groans in relief. My perverted pleasure is getting steadily stronger. I need to surrender myself completely to this wild dark dream. I need to consummate my desperate love for the man who gave me life!

"I want you to fuck me, daddy," I groan. He gives me another shocked look, but he obviously wants it just as much.

"Are you fucking serious, Katie?"

"You know I'm fucking serious. Stop reminiscing about the good ol' days, and start reliving them with me."

"Oh my fucking god," he chortles toward the ceiling. "All right, you naughty bitch. Get your hot ass against the edge of the tub."

"Yes sir, Mister Keofferam," I giggle at his scowling face. "I'm putting my ass on the line for your crooked hedge fund company."

He growls indignantly as I wade over to the southern end of the cauldron. I kneel on the bench and press my crotch against the wall with my torso sprawling across the wooden deck. Assuming the doggy-style pose with my throbbing glistening pussy winking right at him. I toss my hair again while gazing toward a flaming Tiki torch.

"Don't go easy on me just because I'm a virgin," I murmur throatily. He walks slowly toward the southern end, drawing out the suspense. He caresses my firm glutes and quads with both hands, admiring his daughter's Olympic-caliber ass.

"Oh shit, Katie. I can't fucking believe you've never had a boyfriend."

"My heart belongs to daddy," I utter sweetly, wiggling my hips for emphasis.

"And now your pussy belongs to daddy."

He slides his right hand between my legs, running his strong fingers along the full length of my vagina.

"Oh yeah. Fool around with your daughter's pussy. I'm your own private plaything."

He slides his hand up and down five times, then he lingers on my clitoris, flicking it lightly against the edge of the tub. Squeezing it between his thumb and index finger.

"Oh shit, that feels so good. I love how you tease my clitty, daddy."

He fools around with that pink mound for another minute, then he kneels down on the bench and grabs my ass again.

"I'm gonna pop your cherry so good, Barbie girl."

He slides his big dick slowly up my twat, stretching it to the limit. It feels like a bolt of smooth warm lightning, making me groan ecstatically. Better than any dildo I ever put in there. I can't fucking believe my father is taking my virginity! But it feels so right, so natural. It feels like . . . destiny.

"Oh god, that feels so good, daddy. Your dick is all I need!"

Roger rocks his firm hips slowly back and forth, getting that prick all the way in and out, gently sloshing the hot bubbling water. His huge cock sets my nerve endings aflame, making my legs shake against the plastic. I love how he swings upward with every thrust, hitting my g-spot at the perfect angle. He had plenty of practice with mommy.

"Come on, daddy. Fuck me hard, just like you fucked Leni!"

He immediately shifts into high gear, pounding my pussy like hell. Bashing my booty with loud fleshy smacking sounds, pushing my clit against the back wall in a steady rapid rhythm. Driving me insane with incestuous lust.