How to Train Your Daughter Ch. 13a

'I always loved sharing with you what I was learning and doing, and now my sexual training is the most important and exciting part of my life, and it feels like I can't show you any of the cool stuff I'm learning in my lessons, or talk about what my trainers are teaching me, and daddy...I think I'm honestly getting...pretty good at some of this stuff...and it makes me sad that I can't do it...with you...'

I nodded again slowly, my cock beginning to ache in its hardness as I began to understand what my daughter wanted. Her fingers fluttered and danced nervously across the soft gray fabric of my sweatpants where it had begun to strain in its attempts to contain my shaft as she forged ahead in broaching her subject.

'And daddy, you worked so hard and gave up so much in raising me, and it makes me so sad that you are the only man who doesn't get to...to enjoy my body and...the things I'm learning to do with it. It doesn't seem...fair...'

She grew serious, her hand slowly moving down my erection to gently cradle my heavy testicles through my sweatpants, her big eyes imploring me not to freak out or judge her as she bravely made her plea.

'And...sometimes...the men who train me hug me or kiss me when they're done, but daddy...I miss your touches. You used to give me baths, and groom my cunny, and we'd cuddle like this, and now we really don't, and...it's just not the same as what my trainers do. I just want you to be proud of me, daddy, and I want to show you what I'm learning, and make you feel good, and be...close to you—I mean, I know you love me, but you're my dad, and I—I want you to love my body the way other men get to love it.'

I groaned in my growing hunger and my internal perplexity; I couldn't believe how badly I wanted to give my daughter exactly what she was asking for, but I wasn't sure how that would work, exactly, or what the ramifications would be of having intercourse with her—besides what would almost certainly be a mind-blowing orgasm. She was so beautiful to me, and I couldn't deny that I'd imagined the pleasures other men were experiencing from her body, but still, she was my daughter.

'Daddy, I've never felt more close to you then the night of my Festival, when you let me suck on your penis for a little bit. It was so special—I loved it so much...'

It was true; she had given me her very first blowjob the night she'd been ritually deflowered, though I hadn't let her make me cum in her mouth, despite her pleas.

It had been almost too hot for me to handle, and I'd replayed that evening countless times since, and I'd fallen ever more deeply in love with my girl as she'd played and suckled contentedly on my cock that night—the first one she'd ever had in her mouth.

'...And I've seen you train other girls, and they always seem so happy and satisfied and adored when you train them, and...and daddy, I want to feel as good as they feel. It's not fair that every other girl but me, your own daughter, gets to be touched by you and penetrated by you and filled with your cum and given orgasms by your penis. I love you more than all of them, daddy. I want you to train me, too, and...I think it's only fair, don't you think so?'

She'd grown progressively more passionate as she made her case, and she suddenly sprang up and straddled my lap, nearly spilling my coffee, her fluffy grey leg warmers squeezing my thighs between her long calves surprisingly tightly, her graceful hands on my chest and her crotch pressed against my hard cock, her pert nipples affirming her earnest appeal by making two very good and persuasive points of their own in support of her arguments.

A fragrant wave of the fresh scent of her showered body, shampooed hair, and the cocoa butter in the lotion with which she moisturized every centimeter, curve, and crevice of her lithe frame washed over me, filling my nose with her olfactory seduction and thrilling my nervous system as I detected the distinct, musky baseline of her female arousal it tried to conceal. Her dark eyes shone as she whispered conspiratorially.

'Daddy, do you know there are families where the fathers and grandfathers train the daughters? Like, actually train them—and it's totally natural and cool and beautiful?'

It was clear where this was headed now, and my heart beat in my chest as I realized what my daughter wanted. I nodded slowly.

'You mean, like the Davises?'

She nodded eagerly.

Jennifer had spent the night last week with her new friend, Elizabeth Davis, who had been staying a few weeks at her grandfather, Martin's, house. She had been noticeably quiet and thoughtful in the days since.

She hadn't told me much about the sleepover, however, other than that it had been fun, so I'd guessed she missed Elizabeth, who had flown back to school in Chicago the next day. Now I surmised there may be a deeper cause of Jennifer's mood.

Her words rushed out in a torrent of emotion as she excitedly shared something she'd recently learned that she hoped, with all the fervency and conviction of any daughter who'd set her heart on something, would persuade her father to see the situation from her point of view.

'Yes, daddy! Elizabeth told me that their family believes girls are created especially as vessels of pleasure for fathers, as a reward for raising them well and lovingly, and that when a man has a daughter, he calls her a blessing, and takes extra good care of her, because he knows that he will be able to use her for his pleasure, and that it feels so good for a man to couple with his own daughters that they call it a spiritual practice, and girls get to be enjoyed by their grandpas, too, and uncles, and, like, even great-grandpas, I guess, if they wanted, and then Mr. Davis actually had sex with Elizabeth while I was there—like, a lot—and daddy, it was so beautiful and Elizabeth was so happy having her grandpa inside her and daddy—I want—I want that with you.'

I sat, stunned and mind-meltingly aroused, listening to my daughter. If he'd slept with his granddaughter the night Jennifer stayed over, I assumed Martin had also had sex with my daughter, which was fine, of course, but I realized the important part of this conversation for Jennifer was the nature of the Davis family relations.

'But Jennifer,' I said, 'I've always called you a blessing, and raised you as well as I could.'

'I know, daddy, that's exactly what I mean! You created me, and you worked hard to take care of me, and teach me, and love me; and daddy, I won first place in my Festival! You raised a champion girl—I'm, like, literally prize-winning—and you deserve to enjoy my body, at least a little bit.

'I want you to kiss me, and hold me, and touch me, and love on me, and...and be in...me...the way I've seen you do to other girls, daddy. I see how happy they are, and how good you make them feel, and—and—and I'm your little girl, daddy, not them.'

Her voice dropped further, a low, confidential purr that I'd never heard from her before that caused the hair to prickle at the back of my neck and a primal rush of single-minded urgency to flood my loins; it was the expressive, perfectly-modulated mating call of a young girl in heat, refined over countless generations of evolution to irresistibly commandeer the chemistry of the male cerebrum and induce him to couple with her.

'I think I please most of the men who train me. But they don't love me, daddy, and I can feel it when they...when they...fuck...me. I know you love me—but I want to feel your love...inside me. I know we don't believe all the same things the Davis's do, but daddy...'

She began to absently rock her pelvis, grinding her pussy against my cock as her fingers traced the lines of my broad chest and she looked up at me with her best kitten eyes; startled, I reprimanded her, too preoccupied by her actions to scold her for using a word she wasn't allowed to say, and reflexively, without thinking, I shoved my hand between us to stop my daughter from masturbating herself on me.

She was not wearing panties.

She was a mess; my fingers sank between her slippery, soaking lips, my fingertips coming perilously close to penetrating her entrance as she shuddered and rocked involuntarily at my unexpected touch.

It was impossible to be sure how much of the slick, fragrant fluid coating my hand was her own lubrication, and how much was her trainer's load of morning semen leaking from her vagina after the vigorous lesson he'd taught her half an hour ago, but the soft, swollen flesh of her genitals and the throaty little growl that escaped her elegantly sculpted throat assured me that much of her shameless wetness was of her own making, as her fertile young mind and body excited itself with her own natural need.

Her eyes suddenly flashed, and then softened, as she felt some of the intimate contact she wanted so badly from me. She froze on my hand, her beautiful features a picture of bliss.

Ignoring her plaintive whine of disappointment, I pulled free from her cunny, turning my hand about and contemplating the slippery sheen of her juices that webbed my fingers like a sweet, gossamer delicacy and glistened in the morning sunlight. My daughter was in an astonishing pitch of need as she asked me to take her.

I knew what she tasted like; I had sampled her at the recommendation of a training expert I'd hired to help me prepare her for her Festival, and I felt the gears of my brain and my better judgement grinding to a halt as a tidal wave of sense memory caused me to relive the sweet, delicate, intensely female flavor of her slickness that now coated my hand.

Jennifer's gyrations had caused my waistband to ride down, and her eyes widened with delight as they fell upon the head of my penis where it protruded obscenely now beneath the hem of her hoodie between her bare, tanned thighs.

Her voice was husky, her lower lip bitten between her teeth, her plea made with every irresistible charm a beautiful daughter could summon in her efforts to persuade her father of the merits of her point of view.

'Please...daddy?'

Her gaze transfixed by the engorged knob, her delicate hand whispered slowly down my chest and abs, and distractedly fidgeted with the firm flesh of my cock's exposed head.

Tentatively, she pressed the tip of her thumb into the little slit at the head to dab up some of the copious precum streaming from it.

Her pink tongue darting unconsciously to lick her rose-petal lips, she began carefully rubbing my cock's lubricating fluid into the silky, sensitive skin in the cleft underside of my glans in tiny, preoccupied circles that instantly drove me wild. I groaned and tried to protest, but felt like I was losing the will to resist.

'Jennifer, sweetheart, what are you—that feels so, so good—you shouldn't be...oh my god...'

Sensing an advantage, my normally very obedient daughter paid no heed to my remonstrations, continuing to play with the head of my penis as she made her final case.

'But that's what I mean, daddy—I'm learning really cool stuff, and...I want to do it for you. But we don't have to do all of it, really! Like, maybe I could just sit on your lap like this for right now, but I could put you...inside of me...and I'd sit really still like a good girl, and not move a muscle—except maybe my inside ones—and you could find out what I feel like inside, and I could hold you in my vagina and feel you filling me up, and we could just talk, and you could teach me some of the things you teach other girls. Even if we only did that, just for a few minutes...oh, I'd like it ever so much, daddy...'

Fighting my way back to reality, I gently but firmly removed her fingers from my penis; I was about to cum right there in her hand if I didn't put a stop to this. I took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye.

'Jennifer, sweetheart, listen. I...I understand. I never planned on being a father who had sex with his own daughters, but I've—I've—I've been feeling a lot of the same things you're talking about. Sweetheart, you're one of the most beautiful girls in the world, and I've thought countless times about how wonderful it must feel to enjoy your body, and how lucky all the men are that get to experience handling you. I thought that I'd made a big mistake letting you play with my penis after your Festival, but Jennifer, it was one of the most special moments of my life—my penis was the first one you ever had in your mouth, and I feel so honored.

'But honey, I'm just not sure...how to...I'm not sure I can really feel good about...having sex with my daughter as a way to show I love her.'

'But you do love me, don't you daddy?' She pressed, her voice trembling with equal parts frustration, arousal, and a sudden, vehement pang of loss that cut me to the quick.

'Of course I do, sweetheart, you know I do...' I reassured her, sliding my big warm hand up her thigh and under the hem of her hoodie.

I gently brushed my fingers through the closely-trimmed fur at the top edge of her landing strip, then traced the toned contours of her tummy and her perfect belly button with my fingertips as she gave a quiet, happy whimper and arched, leaning back with her hands behind her on my knees and opening her body to my touch.

'I love every inch of you. But sometimes love is more complicated than we think. I want to enjoy your body so much, Jennifer...'

Slowly I forayed further up her torso, my hand slipping dreamily between the impossibly downy inner side of her hoody's fleece and the warm, supple skin of her rib cage; then up even further until I brushed the undersides of her tidy breasts, and my cock flexed beneath her weight as I felt the goosebumps spread across her young tits.

Though not large, they were exquisite, and I knew from experience that their light, budding fullness fit perfectly in my palms; I didn't handle them now, however, but simply traced their soft underbellies back and forth beneath her hoody with my fingertips until her nipples strained against the draping fabric, and she calmed down and began to hum quietly and happily as I petted her.

'...I just need to be sure it's the right thing, and that we do it the right way. I'm going to think about it carefully, and discuss it with your mother, and we'll see if we can figure something out, okay sweetheart?'

Jennifer's eyes beamed with new possibilities as she thanked me, and she kissed me excitedly. I patted her on her bare butt and smiled.

'Aren't you babysitting today? You should probably go get ready—you know Mr. Sutherland likes to enjoy a few minutes inside you before he and Mrs. Sutherland go to work and leave you with Erin and Tamara.'

Surprisingly—or perhaps unsurprisingly, given a household of three young girls whose bodies were rapidly coming into the fullness of their sexual life's purpose, and who were grappling with the bewildering and sometimes disconcerting cascade of physical and emotional impulses that inevitably accompanied their dawning awareness of the fundamental purpose and use of their bodies—my conversation with Jennifer was not the only daughterly drama that came to a head that day.

I was working from home today, and was in my comfortably appointed study when the twins returned from school. I heard them tromp upstairs to their rooms, but shortly there was a knock at my door, and it opened, to my astonishment, to reveal my daughter Serena standing there, completely naked.

She was resplendent in her natural state. I am naturally attracted to most girls, but I typically experience my strongest and most thrilling desires for the darker colorations of the female sex; while doubtlessly biased, Serena's and Selena's blonde voluptuousness was a notable exception, and the sight of their full, fertile bodies never failed stir me deeply with love for their beauty, and base male hunger for the copulatory pleasures they promised the eligible men who would one day train them.

While Jennifer took most strongly after her mother's checkered Italian lineage with her dark hair and eyes, the twins were definitely my offspring, and beautifully expressed my Scandinavian genes.

They were both athletes, Serena playing lacrosse and Selena keeping goal for the school's girls' soccer team, and they were powerfully built despite their petite stature; neither of them was especially lean, and their healthy layer of puppy fat lent their curvaceous bodies a tactile fullness that filled the eye and begged for a man's touch.

The unexpected sight of her standing naked in the doorway to my office caused my breath to catch and my cock to begin to grow heavy and uncomfortably cramped in my trousers where I sat at my desk.

Her hair was down, her heavy blonde tresses tumbling carelessly about her shoulders and over her large breasts in such a magnificent profusion that only her dark nipples were visible, peeking through the rich waves like a pair of priceless, blushing gemstones set in a sea of gold.

Her hips flared extravagantly away from her waist in a jubilant celebration of the archetypal female form, and her vulva, as always, was the pièce de résistance of the work of art that was her body.

The twins possessed two of the juiciest, most inviting vaginas I had ever seen, and the few other men who had been lucky enough to examine them had agreed without exception.

Serena's full, creamy mound formed an impossibly broad and fertile delta between her strong thighs, with a pair of thick outer lips forming a perfect seal protecting her delicate inner bits, and a pristine furrow that clearly extended far into the holy depths at the juncture of her legs, hinting at the untold pleasures it promised to any eligible male fortunate enough to explore its deepest reaches and discover the treasures secreted within.

Her bush was flocked across its breadth with closely trimmed blonde fuzz, the edges shaped to perfectly conform to the lines of her mons, and an afternoon sunbeam dancing through the study window caught the telltale sheen of her girl juices, which had somehow become smeared about her outer lips and mound, and matted the golden fur of her magnificent girl parts in pearlescent fairy trails.

Her big blue eyes, normally dancing with mischief, were distressed and agitated as she restlessly twisted her lovely body about, her heavy, perfect breasts swaying hypnotically beneath her hair and a plaintive whine rising in her throat.

'Daddy, can you help me?'

I managed to escape the awed daze in which her appearance had begun to ensnare me, and regained some of my sense of responsibility as a parent, removing my glasses and tilting my head quizzically, cocking a mystified eyebrow at her.

'Serena—what on earth are you doing, young lady? Where are your clothes?'

While girls were expected to wear the minimum clothing required for any situation in order to best showcase their priceless assets for the enjoyment of anyone who happened to see, and while comfy, casual home outfits were rarely more substantial than a light tank top and panties, it wasn't normal for Serena to waltz about the house naked, and though I had suspicions as to the cause of her consternation, it was still inappropriate for her to be running around the place au naturale like some sort of wild little house pet.

Serena blushed, a lovely coloration filling her creamy skin with a piquant visual reminder of the restless feminine warmth spreading throughout her tender young body.

'Daddy, I don't know if I can make it until Monday...I really, really, really need Dr. Andrew to treat me...'

My brow furrowed in sympathy and concern, though I was also a little exasperated, and I weighed my options.

The twins were approaching their Festival, but Serena had matured more quickly than her sister, and had been exhibiting disruptive mood swings and difficulty in school lately as her body coursed with unfamiliar reproductive hormones and she was suddenly fraught with strange desires which she was not yet able or allowed to act on.