Tom James: Juicy hot daughter

Julie Carson slowly ran the wash cloth over her back and between the tight cheeks of her small ass. The brown-haired eighteen year old wiggled slightly at the touch of the rough cloth on her an. She pressed a little bit harder and giggled at the sensation that rippled through her.

The slim teenager rotated slowly, enjoying the needle-sharp spray of the shower on her body. Putting the wash cloth aside, Julie cupped the small cones of her breasts, turning from side to side to expose first one and then the other to the biting touch of the spray.

As her perky nipples hardened, Julie's breathing speeded up. She was getting excited, and in just a second, she'd wash her cunt, and feel really good.

"Ummmm." She slid her hands down her body and between her thighs, feeling her tiny crop of pussy hair.

Spreading her legs apart, Julie slowly rubbed her hair-fringed pussy with the bar of soap, getting everything nice and slick. This was the part she liked best, rubbing herself slowly until her breasts ached and her stomach fluttered. Only when she couldn't stand it any longer, only then would she touch her little clit and almost explode with pleasure.

Sliding a soap-slick finger between the cheeks of her ass, Julie giggled as she touched the ring of her asshole. That felt nice, too!

She'd dropped the soap and was only using the heel of her hand on the narrow slit at the base of her belly, but Julie could feel herself getting closer and closer. In just a second she would be there.

"Ohhh!" Julie touched het come button, and her hips jerked back and forth between the finger pressing on her clit and the finger pushing against her asshole.

"Ahhhh!!!" As she came, Julie wished she had a third hand to play with her nipples. Her body swiveled faster and faster and then her soap-slicked finger poked into the very entrance of her ass.

"Oooooh fuck, fuckfuckfuck!!!" Julie bounced up and down against the wonderful feeling in her ass. She didn't know what 'fuck' meant, but it was a dirty word, and she wanted to talk dirty!

Squatting down, Julie pushed her finger in a tiny bit hither, moaning with pleasure as her body jerked and twisted in reaction. She slipped her hand up to touch her breasts, but the instant she did so, her pussy began throbbing, wanting more attention.

"Oaoohhh! Sooooo nice!!" Julie squealed the pleasure. Her deep pink nipples were hard as rocks, and her cunt was so hot it felt like it was going to burn up any second!

The teenager was so engrossed in her body she didn't hear the bathroom door open.

"Julie? Julie Carson! What are you – ohhhh!!" Her mother had pulled back the shower curtain and was staring in horror at her daughter.

"Mom!" Julie gasped and tried to cover her nakedness.

"Get out of there this instant!" Marjorie Carson turned off the shower and dragged her daughter onto the bath mat.

"Filth! I go out for an hour and what do you do – you spend the entire time playing filthy games with your body!"

Mrs. Carson threw a bath towel over her daughter's naked body and shook her, roughly.

"You know you're not supposed to do that! If you do that, that thing, you'll become a shameless whore – a woman of the streets!"

Julie, sobbing, paid no attention to her mother's rantings. She had heard it all before. Whenever she wore something that even hinted she was no longer a little girl, that she had breasts and hips, her mother went into an absolute frenzy.

"Marjorie, what the hell are you raving about?" Al Carson, Julie's father, was discreet enough not to look into the bathroom.

"Your daughter, your filthy, filthy daughter. I caught her! She was playing with herself!"

"Jesus fucking Christ on a busted crutch – so what?"

Marjorie swung around and stormed out of the bathroom, the light of battle in her eye.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me, damn it!" Al's voice rose to a roar.

"Now you shut up and stop bugging the kid, or I'll give you a belt in the teeth – and I mean it, by God!"

Julie peeked around the corner. Her mother, her face pale with anger, was confronting her father in the living room. The teen-ager wrapped the towel around herself and scurried into her room shutting the door behind her.

Safe inside, Julie dried herself, wondering for the thousandth time what was wrong with her mother. Up until six months ago, they had been so close it had been wonderful. Julie had felt she could tell her mother anything, ask her anything, and her mother would tell her and everything would be all right.

Julie stared at herself in the mirror. It was them – those breasts, they had been the problem. She'd been taking a bath and her mother had come in, as she had countless times before, to talk. But instead of sitting down and chatting, she'd stared at Julie's chest until the teen-ager blushed and covered her body.

Without saying a word, her mother had gotten up and gone out, and ever since that night, Julie relized, there had been an enormous undercurrent of tension in the house, getting worse and worse all the time.

Her parents were still arguing, but Julie didn't listen. She didn't want to hear them. She put on her nightgown and got into bed with her history book. She'd meant to study earlier, but history bored her, and she left the reading and homework till last.

The argument died down and then Julie heard her parent's bedroom door slain shut. She sighed and shook her head. Arguments upset her and she tried to keep out of them as best she could.

"Julie?" Her father was rapping on her door lightly.

"Come in, Dad."

He opened the door and came inside, shutting it behind him. In the soft light from her bedside lamp Julie looked at her father. He was nearly six feet tall, with broad, slightly stooped shoulders. Julie thought he was the handsomest man she had ever seen, and there were many women who agreed with her.

What made him attractive, though the teen-ager didn't know it, was Al's sense of caring. He radiated compassion and understanding, and his daughter enjoyed his company more and, more each day.

"You okay, sport?" Al sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at her.

Julie nodded, a shy smile on her face. There was so much she wanted to say, but somehow she couldn't let it out.

"Honey, your mother's scared." Al looked at the wall behind Julie's head. "She's scared because you're growing up – and that means she's growing older."

"But she's thirty-nine. That's not old," Julie protested.

"I know," her father sighed. "But logic and emotions get all mixed up. She resents the fact that you look better in a bathing suit than she does now, or so she thinks. And then, there's…" His voice trailed off and he smiled at the girl.

Julie blushed and looked down at the bed cover, tracing the pattern sewn on it.

"It's all right, honey. It's normal, natural and a lot of fuss. If your mother were up to it, she'd tell you the same thing, and probably give you some hints on how to make it feel even better."

"Mom?" Julie gasped. "Never! She never did it, did she?"

Her father chuckled. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

"You'd be amazed what your mother's done." He got up and took the history book out of her hands.

"Get some sleep, honey. It's later than you think, and you've got school tomorrow."

Julie slid down in the bed and held up her arms. Al smiled at her and bent down, giving her a gentle hug and a kiss. He patted her shoulder reassuringly.

"Hang on, kid. Things'll get better, I promise."

"If you say so, Dad." Julie yawned and was almost asleep by the time he'd turned the light out.

Back in their bedroom, Al looked at Marjorie with a worried frown. He wasn't nearly as certain that things would be all right as he'd let on to his daughter. His wife was behaving more and more oddly all the time.