Chapter 31 Daddy's Girl

• It’s the perfect opportunity. My wife’s out shopping and my daughter’s out playing tennis. The house is empty and I’m alone. I go to my daughter’s bedroom. My heart’s pounding with a mixture of guilt, anticipation and lust.
• The walls are girly pink, the fluffy toy she’s cuddled since she was two is still there on her pillow. The picture of her in that so short tennis skirt when she won the college tennis tournament last year is on her dresser. My eyes linger on her long tanned legs and her firm young breasts bulging under her thin white top. Even then at twenty, a year ago, she was a big girl with legs and a figure that are every boy’s, and older man’s, dream. And my dreams too!
• My eyes linger hungrily on that tennis skirt: her long bare legs are spread ever so slightly provocatively, as if unconsciously inviting a hand to lift that skirt and explore. I feel that familiar stirring down below. I remember watching her play. Her dark hair in a pony tail flew up every time she leapt to hit the ball. That so short skirt flew up too, high up those long, tanned, so shapely, so wide spread legs, showing white knickers taut over her cheeky young bottom. My eyes followed her every move: every bounce of her breasts, every inch of her legs, every glimpse of her tight white knickers. My eyes were on her every time she squatted down to pick up the ball with her bare thighs wide, those white knickers bulging over that so erotic mound between her legs and a sweet innocent smile on her face for her adoring daddy. So often as I’ve lain in bed with my wife asleep beside me and my erection hard in my hand I see my daughter’s tennis skirt fly up and her thighs spread as she shows me that inviting bulge.