David Hawthorne - My Daughter, My Desire, Part One

My wife left me because I didn't devote every second of my life to her. She accused me of being a selfish man. Our daughter, Megan, decided to stay with me until she finished high school. Needless to say, my ex-wife was jealous of the father/daughter relationship and the hurtful fact that Meagan had chosen me; all her friends were here and she was in the cheerleading squad, after all, so how could she take off to some new city and home with a mother who never appreciated what she had?

We lived in a nice house in a pretty good neighborhood with a big backyard. The swing set in the backyard was getting old and squeaky. I had spent all weekend lubing it up and putting braces here and there to hold it in place, and painting it in case anyone were to start swinging, which didn't seem likely. One could say I was bored.

Megan walked out of our sliding glass door and smiled to me, letting me know she was home from school and cheer practice and that she was going to change out of her cheerleader uniform, although I must say, that cheerleader uniform did not look uncomfortable in the least.

She came out wearing a new shirt: pink extra small sized half-shirt that showed off her toned abdomen and perky little boobs. No bra, I could see her pert nipples starting to get erect. She wore a white skirt she used to wear a few years ago. This skirt was very much shorter than her cheerleader skirt. I had bought this skirt for her about three birthdays ago, when she was twelve; now it was extremely short since she had grown quite a few inches since then. It wasn't a tight skirt, mind you; it was very loose and had been washed so many times that the fabric was thin, nearly see-through. A slight breeze would have fanned it up exposing what she was wearing underneath.

Why must she torment me with these slinky outfits? I thought to myself. It seemed that she enjoyed showing off her sexy little body to her Daddy, always wearing the skimpiest articles of clothing available.

Oh, don't get me wrong-I enjoyed the flirting and the way she paraded around the house wearing next to nothing.

I had never tried anything sexual with her, though. Not yet. I mean, she was my little girl and there were social mores about such a thing, religious no-nos, as well as a few legal issues here and there.

She cooed: “Hey, what are doing, Daddy dear?”

Her voice was soft and caring, like the sounds a chorus of angels emitted from their gorgeous mouths.

I said: “Just tightening up a few bolts and making sure this thing doesn't hurt anybody.”

The closer Megan came to me, the more I was convinced her skirt was see-through; appeared as if though the sun was shining right through that flimsy fabric. I could actually see the outline of her legs as well as where the inside of her thighs met. And they didn't touch, which left an area that went straight across.

My little girl's pussy.

Does she shave? I asked myself.

Oh, such dreadful thoughts!

“Dad, nobody has been swinging on this thing for a long time.”

She came right next to me and kissed my forehead.

Trying not to look up her skirt, I said: “I know, baby. Guess I was just reminiscing to when you were a little girl. You always wanted me to push you on this damn swing.”

“I loved when you used to push me from behind. Then sneak around front like I was going to crash into you but then you would step out of the way at the last second/”

She laughed; I loved her laugh; it always made me smile no matter what kind of mood I was in.

“I think it's safe again.”

I stood and admired my work and pondered on what she had just said: “push me from behind.” Why must I turn everything sexual? I thought. What the hell was wrong with me?

“Can we try it out!?”

She giggled and sat on the swing.

I just stood there and looked at her skin: her mid-drift, her legs.

“Dad, I can't swing unless you push me.”

I snapped out of my lustful gaze. I moved behind her, placing my hands on her shoulders, and began to push. The harder I pushed, the higher she went; the higher she went the more she sat back in the seat, moving her butt almost off the back.

“Harder Daddy!”

Her skirt was hanging off the back now. It was all slow motion at this point. Like a dream.

“Faster Daddy!”

She came arching, swinging back. I didn't move. I stood right behind her. Megan was almost above me as she reached the end of the back swing and began the downswing. Now her skirt floated back and up and there it was, right in front of my face: my little girl's perfect ass cheeks, panty-less, and within inches of my wide eyes and salivating mouth: white and creamy, two round globes of my heart of heart's desire. The next time she came swinging back, I swear I saw her ass cheeks jiggle and spread and then I saw the most perfect butt hole on earth.

“Holy shit,” I said-I should have thought it, not said it.

“What's that, Daddy?” She didn't wait for my response. “Keep pushing, this is so fun!”

The next time she came swinging back I pushed and the only place to push was her sweet young butt. I tried to place my hands on the outside of her skirt. I missed. My hands landed squarely on her nice firm ass. I gave my daughter's ass a little squeeze in the process of pushing her forward again. When she kept spurring me on, I kept squeezing her butt and pushing. Now I was purposely making sure my hands went under her skirt and onto the finest ass in the world.

I thought she would freak out. Did she know it was her skin I was touching? Or did she think I was pushing on the outside of her skirt? I didn't want to hurt or emotionally scar my baby; she is everything to me after all.

I had to stop. I was getting an erection and my shorts had a noticeable tenting in the front.

“I'm sure that's enough, Megan.”

“Just a couple more times.” She whined to me with her cute puppy-dog eyes and her babygirl voice: “Plllleeeeease Daaaaaadiiiiee.”

“Baby,” and here I tried to sound fatherly, “your skirt is a little short, and you are giving your old man quite a view back here.”

“I know it's short, Daddy, it's okay-dokay. You're my dad, I trust you. You're the only one I trust.”

I felt just awful, now, but also pleased.

“Megan, you're swinging so high all I can push is your sweet little bottom.”

“I know! I have felt your big hands squeezing my booty on every push. You know what? You are the only guy to ever feel me up, ha ha!”

“I did not feel you up. I was only…”

My head spun.

“Just a couple more pushes, then I promise we can stop.”

She talked me into it. We made eye contact. I could tell she really wasn't upset about my fondling her ass.

“Do you always wear skirts with no panties?”

I grabbed her butt more convincingly this time. Megan let out a little, “hey!” Squeezing as long as I could before gravity took her away, I savored the tactile tenderness of flesh. She has an ass to die for. Next time she came back, I decided to get a little more brazen. Her butt had now slid way back off the seat. I actually saw her cute pink pussy lips this time. I put my hands close together and spread her cheeks apart and gave her a quick kiss on the butt as she stalled for that split second, before swinging forward again. I clearly saw her little girl pussy and butt hole and appeared that she shaved.

“Did you just kiss my butt?”

Her voice wasn't angry or worried. It was more a flirtatious, sexy question that she already knew the answer to.

“I couldn't help it, honey. Your butt is the most beautiful butt I have ever seen. If we keep this up you'll give me a heart attack.”