Something was definitely wrong.
Well, a lot of things were wrong. Stacy was supposed to be enjoying her first year of college, making friends and sneaking drinks and getting railed on the weekends. And she'd done plenty of that the first few months. Until the pandemic hit.
She was lucky enough to have a home to return to after lockdown shuttered the school, but even as her dad, Joe, greeted her with a loving hug, she could tell there was something… off .
She knew he'd taken her leaving pretty hard. She was his only child, after all, and he'd been kind of a mother hen ever since her actual mother passed away, when she was just a little kid. Concern clouded her mind as she watched him drive off, standing in front of her college's girl's dorms. Would he be okay?
Though she worried about him, and texted him every day, she found herself swept up in everything college life had to offer. At the same time, she was pleased to see he'd developed an interest in technology. Throughout her sorority's good-natured hazing, her first major parties, and a string of fun hook-ups, she received photographic updates of his evolving computer set-up, as Joe built custom machines and added screens. She didn't know much about tech, so she kept her replies to general encouragement and cheerleaders. It was productive, and it stopped him fretting, that's what mattered.
It took her a few weeks to realize he'd gone quiet. When she asked if he was okay, he assured her he was just absorbed in his new hobby, and she figured it had to be true because even his replies took hours to arrive, unlike his prior swift texts back. Still, they were both adults, they were having fun, and secretly, she wondered if he might have started dating again after fifteen years of grieving her late mother. She hoped so. Amongst other reasons, now Stacy was getting a regular taste of sex, she had no idea how her father survived without it for that long. If she didn't get her pussy eaten out every couple of days, she'd have to skip class to finger herself like crazy.
Well, she'd have to do a lot of that. Almost immediately after she'd returned home, the state issued a lockdown notice, and she wouldn't even be able to make dick appointments on Tinder. It sucked . Especially with how her father was acting.
First, she barely saw him. They'd meet to have breakfast, and then he'd spend all day locked in his room to work remotely, and locked was literal. More than once, Stacy went to ask him if he wanted a cup of coffee or to take five and come watch something stupid on TV with her, only to find the door bolted. She was a little freaked out, at first, and urgently texted him to see if he was okay, which did get a quick response for once, confirming everything was fine. Over dinner, he explained that he found teleworking difficult to concentrate on, and needed to shut off all possible distractions.
Fine. Boring, but fine.
The second weird element, though, was perhaps less fine.
Stacy was idling by the window the first time it happened, mindlessly spooning cereal into her mouth and watching the neighborhood cats size each other up. She heard her dad's footsteps approach her and mumbled 'good morning,' though she was a little too drowsy to bother turning around.
The sleep evaporated from her body when his big palm whacked against her ass.
She was just in her usual sleep clothes, a soft tank top and a normal pair of panties. These were a little younger-looking than she usually went for, with semi-sheer lace around the edges and a cute polka-dot pattern, cut low on the thighs for a comfortable fit. Joe slapped her over the material, let his fingers travel down to caress the back of her thigh, then came back up to firmly dig his fingers into the flesh of her tight teenage butt. It was probably the dry spell – it had to be the dry spell, because the muffled sting of the clap of Joe's hand on her cheek sent a shock wave that made her clit tingle, and the greedy follow-up grope made her entire cunt throb.
'Morning, Gidget,' he said, voice remarkably clear for the early hour. As if the contrast between the blatant fondling and the use of her childhood nickname wasn't confusing enough, she could swear her dad leaned his crotch against her ass when he spoke, and that she felt the unmistakable hot stiffness of a hard-on trapped under a zipper.
When she looked around, incredulous both at her father's actions and her instant horniness, Joe was already a few steps away, headed to the fridge. 'Dad!'
'Yep?' He opened the fridge door and glanced at her over his shoulder, outwardly nonchalant – but she saw the red tinge in his eyes, like he hadn't slept, and the bulging tendons of his hand as it nervously clutched the handle. Why would he do something like that and then slink off as though ashamed?
Well. He used to pat her fanny when she was little, to urge her this way or that. Maybe he'd missed her while she was gone and his wires had become a little crossed, thinking handling her perky ass like that was acceptable at her age, then backing off when he realized how it came across. She just smiled and tilted her head towards the window. 'Just the cats outside being cute. I got a little over-excited.'
'Oh! Yeah, they're sweet. We have treats in the pantry.'
'Wanna go outside with me?'
Joe closed the fridge door, holding a canned energy drink. 'I'd like to, Stacy, but I've gotta work. Next time, though.'
She watched him go back upstairs, noticing how he kept his crotch angled away from her. The boner didn't fit into her crossed wires theory, but she didn't really want to comment on it. She'd make it awkward. And he already touched her so seldom, now, that she didn't want to scare him off completely. It was just a weird glitch in their otherwise normal relationship. No problem.
She could let it slide.
The second time wasn't as easy to shrug off.
A few days after the groping incident, she knocked on the door to his rooms and didn't relent after he didn't answer. About ten minutes of intermittent knocking later, Joe cracked the door open and peered out – surprisingly red in the face and a little sweaty. Wasn't he supposed to be working? She knew he did some light stretches throughout the day to stave off back pain, since he sat at his computer so often, but that shouldn't work up a real sweat .
'What's up?' he asked, and his voice seemed tight.
Huh . Well, she'd come up with a plan, and she was going to stick to it, even if her dad seemed a little off. Putting on her sweetest daddy's girl smile, she said, 'Hey, I've been rewatching The Sopranos and your favorite episode's up next. The one from season three. Wanna join?'
Instantly, he looked conflicted. Stacy knew he loved that show, and she hoped the prospect of spending a little time with his daughter would help sweeten the pot. He looked back over his shoulder – at what, she didn't know – then nodded. 'Alright, I'll be with you in, uh, ten minutes?'
She smiled and headed back to her room, where she settled on the bedsheets, criss-cross. When Joe showed up, she was pretty sure he'd changed into a different shirt and pants, but she just patted the mattress to invite him to sit. He started off on the edge of the bed, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shuffle closer and closer until she was able to back up into the empty space between his knees, leaning back against his muscular chest with a smile. Watching TV like this reminded her of being a little girl, her dad's arms loosely wrapped around her middle in a comfortable hug. When Joe put his hands on her thighs, from behind, she was just happy for the contact.
Then, they wandered higher.
As the drama rose to a peak on screen, Joe's fingers reached his daughter's perky little breasts and easily found her hardening nipples. Stacy was in a casual tank top and short shorts, no bra, and the thin fabric of her too barely dulled the electrifying feeling of her own father's perverted touch. He gently massaged her firm teenage tits, circling her nips with his middle fingers to tease them stiff before pressing and flicking them like the buttons on a game controller.
Stacy kept her eyes on the TV, breath growing heavy, swimming in a maddening mix of frightened confusion and pure arousal. How could this be happening? Was her dad really playing with her breasts like it was no big deal? Unseen, she clenched her pussy over and over to send the slightest jolt of pleasure to her little clit. She should speak up. Ask what the hell he was doing.
Instead, she let him molest her barely legal titties all the way to the episode's end credits, when he took his hands off her with a low whistle.
'Man. This show never gets old.' He slid out from behind his horned-up daughter and sat on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor. 'Thanks, Stace. I needed a break.'
'Uh-huh,' Stacy replied, sinking lower on the bed. Her tank top rode up enough to expose the crotch of her shorts, the material riding up into the cleft of her cunt to mould itself to her twitching vulva. What was her father playing at? What was all this? 'Glad I could help.'
Joe smiled. 'Alright. I'll see you at dinner.'
But before he stood up, he reached out, casual as can be, and squeezed his daughter's puffy outer labia together through her thin shorts, deepening her cameltoe and pinching the hard pebble of her clit between the peachy halves of her pussy.
Stacy gasped and involuntarily thrust up into Joe's hand, which he had to have noticed – but he let go and hurried to the door with a quick goodbye, though not fast enough to hide the massive erection tenting the front of his jeans. Stacy was left dumbfounded, pussy throbbing with desire and brain a scrambled mess. Her dad had never done anything like this before she'd gone to college. He was always touchy, but in a wholesome fatherly way. As she peeled off her bottoms, sticky in the crotch from the hour-long tit teasing, and started fingering herself, questions ran through her mind. Why had he changed? Was it related to all the time he spent in his office?
If she wasn't so desperately horny from weeks of social isolation, she'd probably be less tolerant of Joe's antics, but deep down, it did give her a thrill, and she was reluctant to put a stop to it immediately. She had to find out more.
Luckily, the perfect chance arose about a week later. Joe had to head to his physical office to grab some papers and use their secure internet connection, and told Stacy he'd be back around five. As soon as she heard his car leave the driveway, she made a beeline for the door to his office and bedroom and turned the handle. Locked. Of course. With a smirk, she pulled a hairpin out of her bun and worked it into the lock, feeling like a spy movie heroine and quietly thankful for growing up with such a protective father. She'd never have sought out tips and tricks on how to misbehave, otherwise, nor how to get into the liquor cabinet.
Stacy felt something give, heard a click, and successfully tried the handle. The place didn't look very different from what she remembered: the same old bedroom, with its double bed, pictures of her at different ages, and a couple of photos of her late mother, too. She smiled when she saw them, glad he was still keeping her memory alive, though she did worry he was living in the past too much. Maybe he was talking to a new woman online, and that's why he'd been so absent? He probably worried Stacy would think he was trying to replace her mom. She'd have to drop some serious hints about moving on being healthy.
She'd mostly convinced herself of that theory, but figured she might as well snoop around his office while she was there. This room had a major facelift. Along with the multiple monitor set-up, Stacy noticed soundproofing material on the walls, luxury headphones on their own small hanger, and… projectors? Not just one, but several, pointed at the conspicuously empty white walls. Confused, she tapped the keyboard to rouse the computer from sleep, and tapped in the same password Joe always used: her and her mother's birthdays, one after the other.
There was silent, dark second as the PC woke up. Then, Stacy let out a shocked yelp.
The projectors hummed to life at the same time as the multiple screens, and the room was instantly overwhelmed with bouncing tits, cocks rutting into slick pussies, beautiful female faces glazed with thick white spunk. Each screen and projection showed a different video, all of unrelenting hardcore porn. Stacy's eyes flitted from a gorgeous young woman expertly milking a horse-sized prick, to a pair of full, soft breasts massaging a drooling fuckpole, to a line of girls bending over to show fresh pearly semen gloop out of still-gaping cunts.
She pictured her father sitting here, buck ass naked, hypnotized by the porno universe he'd created and beating his big daddy meat to the rhythm of the on-screen fucking. She'd never seen his naked cock hard, but she knew what it looked like flaccid from walking in on him changing or getting out of the shower, and she could vividly picture his fist sliding up and down that thick, powerful pole, squeezing squirts of precum out the flushed pink tip. Clit throbbing, Stacy shakily picked up the headphones and slipped them over her ears, which were instantly filled with the sloppy sounds of horny sex and primal female moaning. It didn't seem to correspond to any particular video, obviously a curated track chosen to enhance the experience and plug up Joe's senses.
This is what he'd spent every day doing up here. Stacy could imagine her dad saying bye to her at breakfast, getting undressed, settling in the computer chair with the back lowered enough to let him see every video feed, and letting himself sink into a nonstop world of mindless rutting. It also explained why his messages had dropped off when she was still at college. His interest in tech probably led him to forums and sites where he spoke to guys in a similar position, just as lonely as he was, and now he could take advantage of an empty house, he could leave his problems behind by entering this trance state of constant edging.
He probably figured he could wean himself off before his daughter came home. And then, she returned without warning, and they were forced to spend their days locked indoors. He'd gone from the porn addict bachelor life to being under the same roof as a gorgeous girl who wore clothes that left little to the imagination and who let him touch her. Even if she was his child.
It was at this point that Stacy heard the woman's voice on the soundtrack speak for the first time, with real words instead of guttural moans and groans:
Fuck me, daddy. Use my tight little pussy like a cheap fleshlight. Your cum is my drug, daddy. Knock your baby girl up. Fill me with millions of wriggling incest tadpoles. I was raised to be your obedient where.
The tape continued along those lines a while longer before reverting to moans. Stacy examined the footage before her more closely, and connected a few more dots. When more of the men's bodies were visible, it was clear there was a significant age gap between themselves and the girls they were pounding. Many of the young women shared her chest-length dark brown hair and had similar body types.
Did fantasizing about her turn him into a hopeless dick-stroking addict, or did his view of his beloved daughter get warped by the images of these fuckhungry whores?
Without realizing it, Stacy's fingers had delved into her panties to rub her pulsating little nub and part her slippery lips, cunthole eagerly sucking up her fingers in a sudden powerful urge for cock. Her dad 's cock. She leaned against Joe's desk and furiously fingered herself, cornered by the incessant graphic images before her, the erotic sounds streaming into her ears, and the unprovoked intense incestuous desire that gripped her libido and imagination. It didn't take long for her to gasp and buckle under the weight of a delicious orgasm.
And if she played her cards right, there were plenty more in store. After all, why wouldn't her father and her help each other out in this period of forced abstinence?
She carefully put everything back the way she found it, and painstakingly relocked the door with her bobby pin to make sure her tracks were covered. When Joe returned from the office at the end of the day, neither of them acted unusually, though her heart was beating fast with what she was about to try. Unlike most evenings, her dad didn't head into his rooms, probably because he hadn't been able to immerse himself in his fantasies for hours on end. He just settled on the couch with a heavy sigh and messed around on his phone. Perfect.
Casually, Stacy strolled to the armchair across him and sat down, immediately spreading her legs wide. Her dress was short, giving an unrestricted view of her shaved, nude cunt, relaxed and flushed with arousal. She'd left her panties upstairs, and the thrill of exhibition made a little girl drool trickle down her inner thigh. What would he do when he noticed? Would he fuck her right there and then?
'Hey, dad?' she breathed.
Joe glanced up with a tired smile, which vanished as soon as he set eyes on his daughter's exposed pussy. His mouth opened and closed, and then –
'Stacy Marie!' he exclaimed, averting his gaze. 'Keep your legs together. Where's your underwear?'
'Oh!' said Stacy, clamping her thighs together and feigning embarrassment. 'I'm sorry, dad, I took a shower and I just forgot!'
'It's alright, Stace. Better go now before you forget again.'
Stacy got up and walked into the hallway, more confused than ever. Even if he didn't want to act on his desires – though why was he shamelessly groping her if that was the case – he could've just enjoyed the view without saying anything. She knew her dad wanted to fuck her. Before she could climb the stairs, she paused. Maybe that was the problem. He was embarrassed, and being confronted so directly with the object of his desire made him react in defense. Slyly, she looked back into the den, and took in a sharp breath when she saw her father still on the couch, staring off into space… and stroking the obvious boner straining against the crotch of his pants through the material. He was grasping the shaft and moving his grip up and down, focusing on tickling the head. Stacy couldn't make it out from this distance, but she was sure he'd be precumming a stain in his jeans any second if he hadn't already.
He definitely hadn't been hard when she attracted his attention, so he'd gone from soft to fuck-ready in seconds flat. He was clearly desperately attracted to his own daughter, and Stacy's theory made even more sense. Did she push him too far? Maybe he'd stop feeling her up now he'd been confronted with his perversion. Shit .
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