Daddy's Little Girl

Paul realized that he had fucked up as soon as he reached the traffic light. Slamming his hand against the steering wheel, he waited for the green and drove to the next intersection to pull a u-turn. The Condent account was sitting next to his computer in his home office, exactly where he left it to remind him to take it when he left.

It was an early Saturday afternoon, and Paul was hoping to squeeze in a few hours at the firm to polish the account for Monday morning. His wife was at work, leaving their daughter Maureen to study for finals before summer vacation started. Besides, he thought, Jocelyn said she would be in, and he did enjoy her company.

Jocelyn was easily half his age, statuesque, attractive and had legs that went on for ever. Her thick dark long brunette hair cascaded around her angelic face, and though she was 100% professional at work, Paul wanted to believe that a horny, nasty and dirty girl lived inside.

Since she joined the firm, Jocelyn dressed the part of an executive, and wore sharp looking business attire. Paul noticed that she favoured dresses and skirts over slacks; he also noted that Jocelyn never wore any hosiery. In his mind’s eye, Paul would follow the contours of her shapely, smooth and shiny legs from the tip of her four inch spike heels, up her athletic calves and to her thighs, as they disappeared under the hem of her garment.

Musing, he often wondered what type of panties she wore… if any. Paul felt the hard thickness begin to swell inside his shorts and he was smiling as he turned into the driveway. He let himself into the foyer of his home, and rushed the carpeted staircase taking the steps two at a time.

Walking down the hallway, he noticed that Maureen was not in her bedroom studying as she had promised and shrugged as he entered his office to retrieve the documents. With the Condent account in hand, Paul marched back down the stairs and decided to make a quick stop in the kitchen to grab an ice-cold sports drink form the fridge.

Cracking open the plastic bottle, Paul guzzled half the g**** flavoured liquid before he noticed the sound of Maureen talking to someone in the f****y room. It was a one-sided conversation, so Paul just assumed that she was talking on the phone.

Several computerized pings followed, and Paul smiled marvelling at how the young k**s today were so into multitasking. With the social media as it was; he often witnessed Maureen chatting on the phone, texting on her cell and chatting on FaceBlog – or whatever it was called, all at the same time.

Pushing the swing-door open into the f****y room, Paul saw his daughter sitting in front of the computer, headphones and mic in place on her short auburn hair and speaking to some virtual person on the net. Something looked different, but at the moment, he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Thanks Brian,” Paul heard Maureen say into the microphone, “I’m glad that you like my cunt!”

Maureen reached for the web-cam and then shifted in the chair to focus the orbed device between her naked thighs. With her free hand, she used her fingers to splay open her tender teen pussy, exposing her most intimate inner self and giggled like the schoolgirl she was.

“Is that what you want to see Alex?” She asked. “Well thank you Mark, I’m glad that I could make you so hard! Hi Carlo… yes my clitty is hard, are you jerking off now?”

Paul dropped his drink bottle as his jaw dropped simultaneously. He tried to assimilate what he was seeing and hearing and was stunned with absolute shock. His little baby girl… his princess who could do know wrong… the light of his life was sitting stark naked, with her legs agape over the chair’s armrests – holding a web-cam in one hand, while she finger-fucked herself with her free hand.

He felt his legs begin to rise, and soon found himself running towards his daughter. He grabbed frantically to tear the headphones off her head and spin her chair around to face him. Maureen was caught off guard, unhearing and totally immersed in masturbating for her audience of unseen men.

As Paul caught the chair to face his daughter, he involuntarily looked down and saw Maureen’s fingers still deeply imbedded in her glistening pink pussy. Maureen nearly jumped out of her skin, her taut bare breasts jiggled freely as she grew conscious of what was taking place.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Paul screamed.

Maureen was regaining her modesty. She quickly slammed her thighs together and tried to vainly cover her exposed tiny breasts while dropping the web-cam to the floor in process. She felt embarrassed beyond belief and suffered its hotness turn her pale skin a blushing fire engine red. She new instantly that her dad had seen and heard everything, and resided in the fact that she could not say anything to squiggle out of it.

Her dad just stood and stared at her in an unflinching manner. Paul crossed his arms and waited… for what, he wasn’t sure. Maureen sensed that he wasn’t moving or saying anything, and in the bravado of youth, squared her shoulder’s and slowly rose to stand in front of him. She was no longer ashamed of her nudity and looked her father directly in the eye.

Turning, Maureen calmly walked out of the f****y room. Paul was still steaming, almost huffing aloud. His mind was a tumult of emotions; mad, shocked, disgusted and almost uncomprehending what had transpired. He was unsure how to approach this, should he tell his wife, and if so, what in the world could they say or do.

The computer kept pinging, eventually drawing Paul out of his thoughts. He picked up the web-cam Maureen had dropped and placed it next to the screen. The scrolling text caught his attention, and he leaned closer to the monitor to read the incoming messages:

“WOW babe is that really your dad?”

“smoking hot… do u and ur dad fuck… luv 2 c that!!!

“I Shot MY load as soon as I Saw Him – SO Kewl… HOT!!!!”

Paul seethed and drove his fist into the monitor’s flat screen.