Jewel Breckenridge - Daddy_s little girls

Still, no guilt.

Roger started in his chair from the sudden knowledge that the room was not empty. Was he going mad? No, no… it was just that so seldom did anyone join him in here. He twisted his head and saw Ellen walking across the room behind him to a cabinet. She opened it, retrieved something, closed it, and walked nonchalantly all the way across the room and out again, neither glancing at her father nor away from him.

Maybe things were not so bad after all. Yes, maybe the little event could be tucked into the past and forgotten since Ellen hadn't seemed to be affected by it just then. Scar tissue did, after all, grow over wounds; there must be some analogous process… Roger left the thought unfinished as his mind, more relaxed now, began to forget the whole thing. He leaned back still farther in the chair in a welcome comfort, deciding that things were not so bad after all. No, things… were not so bad… after…

Blonde stark naked Ellen appeared reflected to him in the living room mirror as she descended the hall staircase.

She was not looking at her father. Did she know he saw her? Those rose-tipped young titties swaying as she went down the stairs, nipples bobbing around, pointing up toward the ceiling! Christ, now she was facing him full as she reached the bottom of the circular staircase, the blonde curling triangle of her sparse young pubic hair reproduced in perfect detail in the mirror for a moment. Then she was in voluptuous profile – she was walking through the hall, thank God! – her long blonde hair swirling about her shoulders, the tight yet jelly-like flesh of her untanned buttocks swinging into view as her steps began to angle away from the mirror now toward the basement door. Up, down, up, down; so fluid and yet so solid, so tempting, that gorgeous ass of hers – to think he had caressed it, crushed it, in his own hands!

Ellen disappeared from the mirror.

There was a noise of the basement door opening – it seemed to him noisily, it seemed to him Ellen did want him to notice what she was doing – and then closing with a bang. Then the sound of Ellen's bare feet padding quickly down the basement steps to the recreation room. And then silence.

Roger could have borne anything but that silence! What was she doing down there? Naked, no less? It was just a recreation room, with a T.V., a record player, a locked-up bar. Did she want him to join her?

More important, did he want to join her?

Roger's confusion was increased tenfold when the mirror at his side again became occupied.

It was occupied for a total of perhaps only five seconds, but those five seconds were so full to Roger that they stretched into an eternity in his mind.

Who occupied it? Ellen was in the basement, Cynthia was gone. Who was the naked creature that rushed so quickly into his view? The apparition was so unexpected that at first he really didn't know who it was.

Louise!

Louise without one stitch of clothing on her lush, seventeen-year-old, full woman's body. Louise! What a difference from that time he'd ogled her at the beach! Then her body had been partly concealed by her modest two-piece bathing suit and, he had been reduced to counting the wisps of dark pubic hair escaping from the tight leg bands of the suit. He had waited anxiously for one of the milk-white mounds of her fully matured breasts to heave completely out of the top of her suit, and he had been disappointed when it had not happened. He had not seen her undressed since she was ten so until now he had only guessed at what she would look like naked. His lustful fantasy on the beach that day, had guessed that her nipples, like her breasts would be bigger than Ellen's and darker in color; and that her pubic hair would be as dark as the hair on her head: he imagined that her buttocks of which he had only seen the dimples above her bathing suit bottoms, would be so full, the cheeks squeezing against one another so tightly, that the crevice between would be a long narrow valley of shadow, perhaps twice the length and depth of her younger sister Ellen's. The net effect of the full rounded mounds of her buttocks would be like the old classic French playing card he still had in his study, the one showing the woman standing on her knees in a chair, her arched backside presented up to the camera, negligee lifted halfway up to her shoulders, the whitely curving moons of her buttocks swelling in space so tantalizingly, so temptingly, that Roger thought if he ever saw an ass like that in the flesh instead of in a picture he would lose his mind!

And that's what he had seen just now: his daughter Louise's full, fleshy, rounded buttocks fluid as a bowl of jello as the white half-moons played against one another, a long, dark, deep cleavage between them which angled lewdly from side to side as she walked. God! God almighty! What he couldn't do with that hot young ass! He had never in his life done anything to an ass except run his hand smoothly across it, until the other day when he had allowed himself to prod with his sodomizing fingers Ellen's lean, young, barely developed one as it hung suspended invitingly above him.

But with Louise's ass there would be so much more to do – her ass was to him the vision of lust incarnate! After only the first glimpse of the nakedly heaving mounds, his aroused penis was pressing hard and throbbing against his confining pants. Every man has his ideal, and in Louise's buttocks Roger saw his in action as his daughter came into full view and undulated away toward the basement door. What an ultimate irony that these buttocks were possessed by his own daughter, by someone he had in fact created as a product of his own lust!

Louise's pubic hair was a soft coal-black "vee" where her moving legs came together, and through it he could not glimpse her cunt as easily as he could through Ellen's sparse blonde pubic curls. What Louise had between her legs was a mystery even as he stared at her nakedly voluptuous tantalizing form, a mystery which the intense blackness of the hair heightened against the ivory whiteness of her skin.

Not even as her full firm thighs parted with her quick walk, not even as he caught sight of the dark blush receding back between her legs. What would she have? Full softly swelling cuntal lips, a glistening pink slit – untouched, he wondered? – a deep passage which would be fully able to nibble at the entire throbbing length of his long thick cock. Christ, what was he thinking! This was his daughter, his methodical, somewhat lethargic, older daughter Louise. Now he felt guilt, all right. But still he stared at her provocatively moving hips and wondered what her hidden cuntal flesh was actually like. He really wanted to know. The girl's smooth white belly rose in tight, perfect proportion, indeed as perfect as her entire voluptuous body was in proportion. Louise! Louise! Louise! He wanted to call out again as he had done at the beach, but this time he contained himself.

Her breasts were fully ripened – as he had imagined them – and the nipple buds were, as he'd thought, a darker color than Ellen's, with blushing pink areolas that swelled tantalizingly around the tips, inviting his hands and his watering mouth to a lewd caress. A pair of hugely set breasts like that was almost obscene and beyond belief.

Louise at last slipped from Roger's wide-eyed view. She had gone by very quickly, in fact tiptoeing, trying not to make any noise at all. She clearly did not want to attract his attention, wanted instead to slip by unnoticed. The basement door opened softly and then closed without a sound. Again Roger heard bare feet padding eagerly down the basement stairs.

What sort of a sexual mad house was his home turning into, he wondered. What an enticing body Louise had! My God, what was she doing down in the basement with Ellen? Both of his daughters were at it – whatever it was.