บท 1094: LOCKDOWN WITH LILA
In the world outside, the COVID-19 virus raged. The death toll rose every day, and my fearful fellow citizens, heeding government authorities, took shelter in their homes with loved ones, hoping to ride out the pandemic safely.
I sat in my home office, bored. My daughter Lila and I had been cooped up in the house for over a month, and I'd long since grown restless. Lila had been in the middle of the second semester of her junior year of college when the virus struck, and the college sent her and all her classmates home. Now she took classes online. I guessed she was at her computer in her room on the other side of the house at that moment, watching one of her professors drone on about some subject or another.
It was early afternoon, and I wasn't working. I was looking at porn on the Internet, on my computer. The masturbatory pleasures of Internet porn offered a brief respite from my constant boredom. But after two weeks I'd begun to tire of porn and masturbating. I wanted more. I wanted the company of a real woman.
I had been divorced for five years, and actively dating for four. But two months earlier Brenda, a lovely and lean flight attendant I'd met online, had broken up with me. The lockdown prevented me from meeting anyone new. I was horny and frustrated, and jerking off to pictures on my computer screen went only so far to alleviate my frustration.
The ring of the phone on my desk interrupted the tedium.
"Jerry Meers," I said when I picked up the phone. I almost barked the introduction. I wondered if my social skills had grown rusty with my isolation.
"Jerry, it's Todd." Todd was a long-time client, owner and president of a company that manufactured window frames.
"Todd, it's great to hear from you," I said. "How are holding up in quarantine?"
"The family and I are fine," he said. "But business isn't so good. Nobody's buying windows. No money coming in. I have to hold off on that consultation we talked about. Sorry about that."
Darn. That's what I'd feared. I was an independent business consultant, and the refrain from nearly all my clients, mostly small to medium-sized businesses, was the same: business was slow . . . so, they didn't need my services. Not until things opened up and customers started calling again, anyway.
I told Todd I understood and then we exchanged comforting pleasantries about our families and their health. After I hung up, I sat in my chair for a minute, staring at the computer screen, bored of porn and discouraged about the state of my business.
I got up, at last, to give myself something else to do. The ergonomic chair on which I sat was wobbling strangely, and I figured I'd fix it to give my mind something constructive to dwell on. I walked to the garage.
The wrench I was looking for wasn't on the work bench, where I thought I'd left it. That was odd. I was usually careful about where I left things. I walked back into the house, wondering if I'd used it for another project but forgotten about it.
Walking down the hallway, I heard a blast of music coming from behind the closed door of Lila's bedroom. I wondered if she'd seen the wrench. I knocked on the door but there was no answer. I figured she couldn't hear because of the music, so I opened the door and walked in.
Not three feet inside the room, I froze in place, my feet rooted to the ground. My mouth gaped open.
My daughter reclined on the floor, back to me, legs sprawled open, facing an open laptop computer. She was completely naked.
She held the wrench - the one I was looking for - by its head, in her hand. It moved up and down rapidly. The other end of the wrench, the smooth, shiny tip, encased in a red rubber grip, was buried inside her vagina.
I saw the thin lips of my daughter's bare vulva cling to the rubber-encased shaft as it moved in and out of her.
The face of a young man filled most of the laptop screen. I could tell he and Lila were engaged in a Zoom conference. I couldn't see his face clearly, but I could see enough to see his eyes bug out and his hands wave. Obviously, he had seen me enter the room behind Lila, and he was trying to get her attention.
I didn't move. I don't know why. Lila moved first.
Getting the hint, finally, from the young man on the screen, she turned around and saw me.
"Dad!" she screamed. I don't know which of us jumped more. Lila curled her body into a ball and enfolded herself in her arms. The wrench clattered to the floor.
"What are you doing?" she cried.
"Sorry!" I said. "Sorry!" I couldn't think of what to say at first. "I knocked but you didn't answer." My hands flew wildly around me, as though their frantic movement would explain my being in her room.
"Sorry," I said again, and this time I backed out of the room. Without being fully conscious of doing it I took a last look at Lila, naked on the floor, before I turned and left, closing the door behind me.
I retreated to my office, closed the door, and paced the floor, back and forth, forth and back.
The image of my daughter, naked and spread on the floor, burned in my mind. Try as I might, I couldn't erase it. Guilt and shame coursed through me. I battered my confused brain with accusatory questions: Why did I enter Lila's room without permission? Why didn't I leave the room immediately? Why did I stare at her naked body? What was wrong with me?
I worried about Lila, too. Who was that young man? Why was she showing herself to him naked? Did she do that often?
I realized with dismay that there was a lot about my daughter that I hadn't known.
I tried to distract myself with work projects and Internet surfing, but I didn't succeed. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd seen - about what I wasn't supposed to see.
After about two hours, I heard a soft knock on the office door.
"Come in," I said, my voice shaky. I knew what was to come but I didn't know if I was ready for it.
Lila entered. She wore tight-fitting baby blue gym shorts and a white t-shirt that showed off some of the taut skin of her belly. Under the circumstances, I wished she'd dressed more conservatively, but this was how Lila dressed most of the time, and I'd already noticed in the past week that as the weather had grown warmer her outfits had become skimpier.
"Hey, Dad," she said.
"Hey," I said back, gesturing to her to take a seat in a chair a few feet away from me. She sat and we both shifted in our seats for a few moments, not saying anything. Finally, I broke the silence.
"Listen, Lila, I'm very sorry about . . . that. I knocked and there was no answer and I figured you were just listening to loud music and -"
"It's OK, Dad," she said, interrupting. "I know it must have been a shock for you to see me . . . like that."
She squirmed in her chair, and I noticed the points of her nipples pushing conspicuously against the thin fabric of her shirt. She wore no bra; that was obvious. Her unfettered breasts jiggled with every movement of her body. My discomfort, high already, flew off the charts.
"Lila, I don't know what to say. I shouldn't have been there. And I should have left right away. I shouldn't have seen you that way."
"It's all right, Dad," she said. "You did see me. There's nothing we can do about that now. You got a good look at me, huh?" She said it with a wan smile.
"Yeah, I did," I said, the words coming out with struggle. "I wish I hadn't. I shouldn't have been in your room and when I saw you like that I should have left right away."
"I guess so," she said, and she looked at me with a look I couldn't read. "But you didn't. You didn't move right away."
"I was just . . . shocked," I said. "That's all. Sorry."
She looked at me, nodding, with that same unreadable look.
"Like I said," Lila said, "It's OK. You're not mad at me, are you?" Her eyes were wide and glistening.
"No, of course I'm not mad," I said. "But -"
"But what?"
"I'm concerned."
"Why are you concerned?" she asked. She shifted in her chair again and her breasts swelled and swayed under the little t-shirt. Her back arched and the bottom edge of her shirt lifted, exposing more skin and showing her navel.
"Lila, who's that guy?" I asked. "Is he your boyfriend?"
"I wouldn't call him a boyfriend," she said. "A guy I knew at school. We . . . dated a few times. Before, you know. The virus."
"A guy you knew at school," I repeated. "And you feel OK . . . showing yourself to him like that?"
She looked at me and said nothing right away. She held her eyes steadily on mine, but her body shifted in the chair and I noticed, again, the movement of her breasts under the shirt. I felt a twinge between my legs, under my pants, and guilt wracked my conscience, again.
"Are you trying to shame me, Dad?"
"No!" I said. "It's not like that. I'm concerned about you. Do you know if you can trust him? What if . . . what if he made a copy of you . . . doing that . . . and showed it to others? To his friends?"
Lila said nothing to me in response right away. She looked away from me, eyes flittering from one part of the room to another but not resting on mine, not right away. At last, though, her eyes locked on mine, as though she'd made up her mind about something.
"Dad," she said. "He did show them to his friends."
A storm of fury rose inside me.
"That scumbag!" I said. "Lila, you have rights. You can -"
"No, Dad," she said, raising a hand in front of my face. "He showed them because I told him it was OK. I wanted him to."
I shook my head, confused.
"What?" I asked in a stammer. "What do you mean?"
"When I was . . . putting on the show for him, I was teasing him. About how much his friends would like to see me like this and if he liked it. And he asked if could show them. And I said 'yes.'"
"Why . . . why would you say that?" To say I did not understand the words coming out of her mouth would be an understatement.
"Because I liked it," she said, her voice growing firmer. "I like to show off. I've done the same thing other times. With other guys. And girls, even."
The same thing? Other times? Guys and girls? My brain was on overload.
I tried to find the words to reply, but they escaped me. Lila stared at me, obviously wanting a reply. After a long delay, with me not saying anything, she finally did.
"What do you think about that, Dad?"
"Lila," I said at last, "why are you telling me this?"
"Telling you what?" she replied. "The truth? I'm telling you because you're my Dad. We've been marooned in this house for a month. I thought it would be nice to be honest with you. Sorry if it's, like, hard to hear."
"It's not hard to hear," I said quickly. "OK, maybe it is. It's kind of hard to hear about you showing yourself . . . like that . . . to a lot of guys. I know how guys are. I was a guy once. Still am. I wouldn't trust them. Don't you worry -"
"What?" She interrupted me.
"About your reputation," I said, uncomfortable talking about it and visualizing my daughter exposing herself. "They could take photos of you and share them with their friends. You don't know where they'll end up."
"Yeah," she said. "That's true. I've thought about it. It's a risk. But it's a risk I decided I wanted to take. My boyfriend - his name is Sasha - had three roommates in an apartment. And he liked . . . showing me off. So, when I visited, I'd walk around the apartment, not wearing much - usually just a little crop top and panties. And I liked it. I'm sorry if this is a shock for you, but I did."
My head spun with images of Lila cavorting through an apartment with four horny college boys, in just her underwear. The image was both disturbing and - I had to admit it - a little arousing. I tried to push the images down and out of my mind, but without success. I couldn't find the words to respond to her.
"Are you ashamed of me?" she asked, breaking a long silence.
"No, no, sweetie. It's not like that. You're an adult. And I'm not a prude. But I'm your Dad. I'm concerned about you. I don't want to see you hurt or taken advantage of."
She smiled and stood up from her chair and crossed the distance between us, planting a quick, sweet kiss on my forehead. Then she returned to her chair.
"You're a great Dad," she said. "I guess that's why I wanted to tell you. I feel like I can trust you. Like I'm safe with you."
I returned a wan, awkward smile to her.
"Well, thanks. I'm glad you feel that way. You can always trust me."
"So," she said, "you don't think less of me that I'm, kind of, an exhibitionist? That I like walking around with not a lot on - sometimes in front of people?"
"Lila, it's not my decision to make. It's yours, and - "
I stopped when she cocked her head and opened her eyes wide, like she was expecting a different answer.
"OK, OK," I said. "It's a little weird for me to adjust to. But no, I don't think less of you. You're an adult and if you like spending your time in panties or whatever that's your choice."
The words felt strange when they left my mouth. But Lila looked satisfied with my answer. A broad grin and flashing eyes lit up her face.
"Thanks, Dad," she said.
She stood up and twirled and walked away. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight, but it sure looked like she deliberately swayed her pert little butt at me as she left the room.
Alone again, I stewed in my thoughts, still bored, still horny, and agitated with thoughts of my sweet daughter in various stages of undress.
Eventually, I got up from my chair, desperately needing something to do to take my mind off the events of day. I decided to clean the garage.
There wouldn't be much to clean. I was one of those guys that kept a tidy, orderly garage. So, when I entered it from the laundry room, I noticed immediately that something was out of place: my wrench, rather than being in the wrench drawer where it belonged, lay in the middle of my work bench.
I picked it up, prepared to put it in the drawer.
But I stopped when I recalled that it was the wrench I had seen Lila inserting into her pussy. She had used my favorite wrench as a sex toy.
God help me, I held the end of the wrench up to my nose.
I inhaled. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed the scent of a woman's pussy, but there was no mistaking it now. The faint and fading tangy scent of my daughter Lila wafted up from the rubber casing over the handle of the heavy tool. It tickled my nostrils and I closed my eyes and savored it.
I shook my head. What kind of father was I?
I pulled some cleaning wipes from a cabinet shelf and cleaned off the wrench. Then I put it away. For the next half hour, I puttered around the garage, reorganizing things to give myself something - anything - to take my mind off my exhibitionist daughter.
* * * *
Days passed, and the quarantine continued. Lila and I remained locked down in the house. We settled into a steady, dull routine, trying to maintain our sanity while the world outside, broadcast to us through our TVs, computers, and smart phones, seemed to teeter on the brink of insanity and collapse.
For days, we said nothing about what I'd seen Lila do or about the conversation that followed. I worked, and Lila attended classes - both of us, remotely.
But that's not to say nothing changed. It did. I became aware of Lila in a way I hadn't before. She wasn't just my daughter; she was a grown woman - and a very attractive grown woman. I grew antsy and agitated as the days and hours and minutes ticked past and the prospect of being with a live, breathing woman seemed like a mirage in the desert that never grew closer. The only woman around me was Lila. I couldn't help but notice her.
It didn't help, either, that after our conversation Lila's standard of dress grew looser and skimpier. April turned to May, temperatures climbed, and Lila seemed to show more skin every day. In the morning I'd be making coffee and hear Lila's soft bare-foot fall, and she'd turn the corner into the kitchen wearing short shorts and a cropped top. She seldom wore a bra. Later in the day she'd keep wearing the short shorts or switch into miniskirts, and perhaps replace the cropped tops with thread-bare tees or tank tops. I don't think her legs were ever covered, and they were beautiful legs - long, shapely, lightly muscled from daily sessions of yoga and running. When she ran, she wore compression shorts that barely concealed her bottom and a tight sport bra that pushed her youthful breasts up and out. When finished with her run she'd come back to the house, a sheen of sweat over her barely covered body, and she'd linger close by me in the kitchen while slowly nursing a Gatorade.
And I could swear, although I couldn't exactly put my finger on what made me think so, that she was showing off to me. There was something about the way she would stand in front of me in the kitchen, munching a muffin, with her hip thrown farther to one side than seemed necessary. Or the way she would push her chest out in a tight top, the little bumps of her tits under the top so conspicuously displayed. When she left the room, she'd linger in the doorway, back to me, in her short shorts - so short they exposed an expanse of firm skin on each ass cheek.
I didn't want to look. I tried not to. But sometimes I couldn't help myself.
One night before going to bed I watched a rerun of a favorite television show, spread out in a big comfortable leather chair. I thought Lila had gone to bed when I heard her rummaging through the kitchen. A minute later she skipped into the den, wearing nothing more than a t shirt. I tried to behave but my eyes couldn't help but run up the length of her legs to where they disappeared under the hem of the shirt. It bounced as she walked, and I caught a brief flash of pink panty.
My cock twitched. My God. I didn't want that to happen in front of her.
To make matters worse, Lila plopped down on my lap. Right on top of my cock.
"What are you watching?" she asked.
Was she grinding against me? I wasn't sure but I hoped not. I wouldn't be able to keep my cock from responding if she did.
"Looks boring," she said. "Well, good night, Daddy."
"Daddy?" I asked. "You haven't called me 'Daddy' in a long time."
"Dad. Daddy. Whatever."
She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
Plump, ripe breasts mashed against my shoulder as her lips touched my face.
She bounced out of my lap and headed for the den door. My eyes followed her the whole way. Then she did something uncharacteristic for her, dropping the napkin she had been carrying. She bent over to retrieve it and her shirt rode up, revealing that she was wearing nothing but a thong, the pink stringy back of which cleaved her perfect, bare ass cheeks and concealed almost nothing underneath.
When she left the room at last, I groaned quietly.
Later, in my room, I pulled up a porn video on my laptop. I needed relief, but not to images of my daughter in my head. So, I opened a video featuring an adult actress closer to my age. I came just three minutes after it began.
It offered only temporary relief.
* * * *
The next day began the same as all the rest - a slow breakfast, cleaning up the kitchen and straightening up the house.
Lila complained that the blinds in her bedroom weren't closing properly, so I spent half an hour diagnosing the problem and fixing it. I was handy with projects like that, and Lila showed her appreciation by giving me a sweet peck on the cheek when I finished.
The crop top and boy shorts she wore seemed briefer than ever. They molded perfectly to her body, leaving none of its curves to the imagination.
The doorbell rang. By the time I walked to the front door and opened it I noticed the delivery van already was leaving and a rectangular package sat on the doorstep at my feet.
I picked it up. I had no idea what it was."Lila," I called, "Were you expecting a package?"
"Yes!" she called, jogging to the entry way, excitedly. I handed her the package.
"What is it?"
Lila didn't answer at first. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling and her mouth twisted coyly.
"Sure you want to know?"
"Why wouldn't I want to know? It's not something illegal is it?"
"No, of course not. Nothing like that. So, you want to know?"
I should have said 'no,' but I wasn't thinking clearly enough.
"Sure, of course."
"OK then. It's my new vibrator."
"Your new -"
"Vibrator. You know what a vibrator is, don't you?"
"Of course, I do. I just didn't -"
"Think I'd use one? I'm not a little girl, Dad. I'm a woman."
"I can see that." I stammered. "I mean, I know that. It's not my business. Sorry." I shook my head.
"Nothing to be sorry about." She grinned. "Here, I'll show you."
"Lila, you don't have to -"
"No, it's fine," she said, interrupting me.
I should have said no, firmly. I should have walked away. But I didn't. I chose badly, again. I stood and watched as Lila's deft fingers tore open the box. Within a minute she pulled a slender purple rod out of the box. It curved slightly at one end, and at the end of the curve it bulged noticeably.
She held it up in front of her face, looking at it the way I might inspect a power drill.
"The curve allows the tip to hit my G-spot. I love that feeling."
She looked at me with a naughty expression.
"You do know what a G-spot is, don't you, Dad?"
"Lila, of course. I wasn't born yesterday."
"Oh, I know you weren't born yesterday. Just checking. You're not embarrassed, are you?"
"No," I replied, even though I was, in fact, embarrassed to see my daughter holding a sex toy between us. "I'm just, um, still getting used to some things around here."
"Getting used to your daughter being a grown woman, is that it?"
"Something like that. I know you are. But it's an adjustment. And with us cooped up like this the adjustment's faster than I expected."
"Faster isn't always better, is that it?"
"Um," I said again, fumbling with my words. "I'll leave that thought to you. I have work to do."
Fortunately, I did. A client had contacted me the previous day seeking guidance on her business's social media outreach. I was glad to get the work. I left Lila with her new toy and returned to my office. Soon I immersed myself in drafting a memorandum to the client, and my absorption in the work got my mind off my daughter.
I usually kept a browser window open to my email inbox, so I would know immediately when emails arrived. Two hours after sitting at my office computer I noticed a new one - from Lila. I opened it.
"Enjoy!" it said in the text portion. Below the word was an attachment. I clicked on it, without thinking.
A video opened.
I gasped, literally.
Lila's nude body, sprawled on her bed and facing the camera, legs open, filled most of the screen. Her pussy was bare - freshly shaved, I guessed. She held the purple vibrator in her hand and its bulbous tip lay against her skin just over her clitoral hood.
Lila was talking into the camera, but I had the sound off and had no idea what she was saying. The tip of the purple rod slid down over her clit and between the lips below.
I couldn't watch any more. With the click of my mouse I closed the video.
I sat at my computer, shocked.
Two minutes later I received another email, again from Lila.
"Dad," it said, "That email was meant for someone else. Sorry!"
Meant for someone else. I wondered who. Probably her friend . . . Sasha, I think she called him. But how could she mistakenly send an email to him to me instead?
Was it really a mistake?
My mind reeled. And, I could not deny, my cock stirred. I hated myself for that.
I highlighted the email with the video and prepared to delete it, my finger poised over the mouse. But I didn't press the button. I should have, but I didn't. I closed the email window instead and resumed drafting the memo.
This time it was much harder to stop thinking about Lila.
I didn't see Lila again for hours, when I was in the kitchen starting to prepare dinner - fried chicken and mashed potatoes and salad.
Lila walked into the room quietly, and I didn't see her until she was almost at my side. She wore brief denim shorts, with holes in them, and a loose crop top. The bottom hem stopped not far below her breasts. She obviously wore no bra and her breasts swayed and jiggled with every step and movement.
"That looks good," she said, looking at the meal I was making.
"I hope so," I replied.
"You're a really good cook, you know. I don't think I've said that. I appreciate it. You take good care of me. I want you to know that."
"That's kind of you. I've always liked cooking and I have more time than ever to do it."
"Well, you use your time well. Most of the guys I know in college can't cook for shit."
"Language, Lila."
"Sorry, Dad," she said, with exaggerated emphasis on the last word.
I went back to preparing dinner and Lila watched television. My mind was troubled by the video I'd seen of Lila, but I didn't know whether to bring it up.
Later, we sat at the dining room table and I laid out the food before us. I preferred to eat at the table to eating in front of the television. I preferred a little ceremony with a meal. I let Lila have a half glass of wine with her dinner. We ate in silence for a few minutes, but I decided I had to speak.
"Lila, about your email earlier today. The video."
"You saw that?" she asked.
"I did. I opened it, and then I closed it right away. But not before, you know, seeing you."
"I hope I didn't shock you."
"Well, I was kind of . . . shocked, I guess."
"You weren't supposed to see it," she said. "It was meant for someone else."
"Well, about that," I said. I paused. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, to talk about. "Do you think that's smart?"
"What do you mean?"
"Sending a video like that to . . . a boy. To someone else."
"You shaming me, Dad?"
"It's not like that," I said. "I'm concerned about you. When you send a video like to someone, you don't know where it will end up. He could show it to his friends. He could show it to anyone."
Lila rolled her eyes, holding them on the ceiling, and her body fidgeted.
"Dad . . .."
"What is it?"
"I know he showed it to his friends. I wanted him to."
I shook my head, not sure I had heard her correctly.
"What?" I asked.
"Before I sent it, he said his friends wanted to see it. So, I told him 'OK.' I know they saw it. At least three of them, that I know about."
"Lila," I said, the worry in my voice obvious.
"You're not getting all moralistic on me, are you, Dad?" she asked. "Are you ashamed?"
"No," I said. "It's not about shame. It's about being careful. If you have videos of you out there it could hurt you."
"I've thought about that," she said. "And, like, I decided it was worth the risk. I enjoy showing off. It's a rush. Maybe someone won't like it. Maybe in the future someone won't give me a job because of it. But that wouldn't be somewhere I'd want to work."
"It's risky, Lila," I said.
"I know, Dad," she said, "but I'm an adult and I can make those decisions for myself. You respect that, don't you?"
"I respect your right to make the decision," I said, reluctantly. "I'm just not sure it's the right one."
"I get it," she said. "You're my Dad, so I get it. Are we good?"
"We're good," I said. "I guess."
"Great!" she said, a big grin breaking over her face. "And one other thing, Dad -"
"What is it?"
"If you want to watch my video, go ahead." With that remark, she pivoted on her toes, spun around, and quickly left the room. And I could swear she swayed her ass at me for my benefit as she left.
Two hours later, after having scrubbed down the kitchen and swept the patio and kept myself busy in various ways to keep my mind off my daughter's ass, I found myself back in my office, at the computer.
All my eyes could see was a tiny icon on the computer desktop. It ended in ".mp4." It was the video from Lila I'd downloaded, and that I'd failed to erase.
I used my mouse to navigate the cursor on the screen over it. My finger hovered over the mouse to delete the icon.
I wanted to delete it. I did. I really did. I wanted to be a good father. But she'd given me permission. She wanted me to look at it. And she'd never know, right? No one would ever know.
And maybe I would be a good father to find out what she was doing. Knowledge was a good thing, wasn't it?
I clicked on "open" instead of "delete."
The icon expanded and the video screen opened. Lila filled the screen again, naked and with her legs spread. Without thinking I used my mouse to click on "Fill Screen" and Lila's naked body filled the large monitor inches from my face in high resolution. The purple slender rod of her vibrator hovered just over her clitoris. The lips of her pussy were pulled back, almost perfectly, like the wings of a pink butterfly, as though she'd spread them with care before starting her video. Nothing was left to the imagination. Her knees were pulled back wide and her womanly breasts pushed out toward the camera with wide rosy erect nipples.
My cock grew instantly hard.
A shock of embarrassment and shame swept over me. I knew I shouldn't be doing this.
But I couldn't help it.
"Hi Daddy," Lila said on the screen.
"Daddy?" I mouthed to myself. Was this some weird game she had with her boyfriend? It must have been, because she had told me she'd meant to send the video to him. It must be some weird role-playing game.
"I know you've been looking at me," she said on the screen. The little purple wand tap-tap-tapped over her clit. The depths of her pussy remained open below.
"I think you want me, but you can't say it." She writhed on her bed. Her legs spread apart still more and the opening between her legs widened.
"I want you to know," she said, "that I want you too. I think about you and I want to sit on your cock and I want my little pussy to wrap around it and grab it, and I want you to fill me."
My cock was rock hard, and, almost against my will, my hand went to it and squeezed it between thumb and forefinger.
"I want to put on a little show for you," she said. The hand on the vibrator flicked the button and the buzz of the vibrator grew.
Lila didn't put the vibrator inside her pussy - not yet. She moved the little round head of the instrument up and down each delicate lip, gently tickling to one side and back. I groaned. Literally - I groaned.
"Fuck, Lila," I heard myself say.
That's right, fuck Lila, an unspoken voice in me said.
No, I thought. That's not right.
"Oh, Daddy," Lila said, almost as though she was reading my thoughts. "Do you like the sound of the vibrator on my pussy? Do you like looking at my pussy? I'll bet you do."
Oh, I did. But I didn't want to admit it.
I wanted to look away from the computer screen. I really did. But I couldn't. I was horny and frustrated, and my daughter's bare open cunt lay in front of me and there was no fucking way in God's Earth that I could tear my eyes away from the sight of it.
One hand, on the computer mouse, maneuvered around the screen to increase the volume. I was nervous about Lila being able to hear what was going on from outside the room, but I wanted to hear her voice and the sounds of her toying herself more clearly. I saw the little volume bar on the screen move right and the sound increased. Her heavy breathing played out from the computer speakers. Oh, my cock grew harder still.
My other hand fumbled with my pants, unbuttoning my fly and drawing down the zipper and pulling my pants and briefs down until my hard cock sprang free. It bobbed and pointed toward the screen, toward the naked, spread figure of my daughter Lila. When my hand was done getting my pants and underwear out of the way it grabbed my hard penis at the head and then moved swiftly down to the base. My penis roared up from my body in a gob-smacked salute to my hot daughter.
"I'll bet you like the sound of this vibrator," she said. "But I bet you'll like another sound even more."
She switched the vibrator off and it went silent. I wondered what she meant. I liked the sound of it against her. I liked watching that tip against her pussy. I didn't know what she intended or what sound she was referring to.
She showed me, soon enough. She pushed the purple rod away from her body, and then she pulled it right back. She speared herself with it. The head, and then the entire shaft, of the purple vibrator disappeared into the depths of her pussy. Her lips enfolded it.
"Unnnnh!" she cried out as it entered her.
With no thought about it I started stroking my cock. Up. Down. Up. Down. I couldn't help myself. I really couldn't.
Lila started really fucking herself with the vibrator. My daughter.
"Daddy," she called.
In and out, in and out, the vibrator moved.
My hand moved against my cock in rhythm with it.
Then, I began to hear it - not the vibrator, not her voice, but the sound of her pussy being fucked. It was a squishy, squelching sound, a sound that grew in volume with every plunge of the instrument into her body. I could tell that her pussy grew wetter as she kept fucking herself with the vibrator, and with more wetness her pussy grew louder.
My hand's grip on my cock grew tighter. Its stroking quickened.
"Lila," I heard myself say to the figure on the screen.
I felt bad, but not bad enough to stop. No father should do what I was doing, but I was doing it anyway, and I gave into the need and desire and told myself I couldn't stop. What man could? Lila was a beautiful young woman displaying herself for her man's satisfaction. It would have been inhuman for me not to appreciate the sight of her body.
I kept stroking.
I knew I was going to ejaculate to the sight of my daughter frigging herself with the little vibrator.
The squishy noise of the vibrator in her cunt grew louder.
"Daddy," she called out on the computer screen.
The sound of that word sent a little shiver through my body, starting somewhere around my shoulders and traveling down to the end of my cock head. A dribble of pre-cum dribbled out the top and my swiftly moving hand shrouded it and drew it down over the length of my shaft. Lube would be no problem.
"Go ahead and come now, Daddy," she said, pumping the vibrator in and out of her with increasing speed. My hand moved over my cock faster and faster to keep up with her.
"Unnnh, unnnh, unnnh," she said.
"Ohhh, Ohhh," I said back.
With great suddenness I felt the seed erupt from me, welling up from the depths and through my shaft until great milky gobs of cum erupted from my cock into the air like a geyser. It felt like I'd lost all control of my cock and cum sprayed left and right and forward. It splattered the carpet and the computer keypad. A few flecks hit the computer screen and the fluid began streaking down the face of the monitor.
Onscreen, Lila came too. Her body bucked and twisted, and she held the vibrator inside her until the movement slowed and stopped. Spots and tiny streams of white trickled from her cunt. Lila moaned and squealed.
After a minute of staring at the ceiling while her body stopped shaking, Lila's head moved down and she looked directly at the camera.
"Tell me you want to fuck me, Daddy," she said, her eyes twinkling with the lustiest expression imaginable.
I shouldn't have said it, but I did.
"I want to fuck you so bad, Lila," I said back at the screen.
After ten more seconds, the video faded to black.
I stared, open mouthed, at the screen. My hand still gripped my cock, and both were coated in my cum. I couldn't believe what I'd done.
After a minute of paralysis, I found a tissue box and cleaned up the mess I had made.
My lust was sated, for the moment. At the same time, I worried that my soul was lost.
* * * *
I didn't see Lila the rest of the day. She was cooped up in her room, I guessed, and I had no idea what she was doing. I ate a quick dinner of leftover stew stored in Tupperware in the refrigerator. I brooded the rest of the evening and settled into my bed in an agitated state of mind.
The next morning, I woke up, got out of bed, and walked in a daze to the kitchen. I made coffee. The air felt cooler than it had before, so I approached the thermostat on the wall to set it.
Before my fingers contacted the thermostat's touchpad an image popped up in my mind: the image of my daughter, in skimpy underwear. I wanted her to be comfortable in her underwear. If she was cold, she might have to put on more clothing.
And I . . .
I . . .
I didn't want that. I wanted her to be comfortable so she could be skimpily dressed. I punched the thermostat buttons so the temperature would be warm.
I asked myself what I was doing. I knew what I was doing, but I wondered why I was doing it. Lila was my daughter. I shouldn't have been thinking about her the way I was, but I did. I couldn't get the images of the video and of her raw, young, open pussy out of my mind. The mental image of it drove me crazy.
I sat on a stool at the kitchen counter eating cold cereal and gulping down coffee until Lila woke up and entered the kitchen.
Sure enough, she walked into the room in her skimpiest outfit yet - a little cropped white camisole and white panties. Not shorts, panties. She hadn't even bothered getting dressed. The front of the panties closely sculped her pubic mound and the band of fabric on either side of her hips was no more than an inch wide. She wore no bra under the camisole. The points of her nipples were clear under the white top, pointing dramatically outward.
I felt my cock stiffen and told myself I had to stop that.
"Morning, Dad," Lila said, walking almost naked to the refrigerator
"Good morning, Lila," I said.
She pulled out a pitcher of orange juice and poured it slowly into a glass. I tried not to, but I couldn't help but run my eyes over her body, and they zoomed in on the mounds of her nipples under the thin camisole.
I can't do this, I thought.
But I did it anyway. My eyes ran over my daughter's body like she was a stripper on a stage. I mean, she kind of was that, wasn't she? She'd sent me a video of herself, naked and showing off, frigging herself to orgasm. She'd given me the OK to look at the video. We didn't say anything about it, but the thought hung over us, unspoken, nonetheless.
A heavy quiet lay over the atmosphere as we ate breakfast together. Neither of us said anything. I tried to keep my eyes off Lila, but every time she turned away, they went back to her. At the refrigerator door she bent over, and her pretty ass mounded in my direction, stretching and pulling the skinny gusset of her panties further into the crack of her cheeks. Her cunt, which I'd jerked off to the day before, lay just beneath, and I couldn't tamp down my keen awareness of it.
It was all I could do at breakfast to keep Lila from catching me staring at her body. I'm not sure I did. She had to be wondering if I'd looked at the video, but she didn't say anything. I was glad to sit on the other side of the table from her so she couldn't see my otherwise obvious erection. When I was done, I shuffled out of the kitchen, turning my body away from her so she wouldn't see the cause of my embarrassment.
The whole day was like that. The two of us went about our activities separately, me trying to concentrate on what little work I had, with limited success, and Lila off attending virtual classes or doing whatever it was she was doing. Maybe making another video, I thought.
I grilled chicken breasts on the grill in the backyard. The evening had grown pleasant and cool and stars were beginning to emerge. I threw some corn on the grill as well and downed a glass of sauvignon blanc.Lila set the table on the patio outside and we ate dinner together. Lila was dressed, sort of, although still with a degree of skimpiness that would have seemed unusual before the lockdown - little shorts and a crop top, obviously, still, braless. But things seemed almost normal again. Lila talked about her classes and shared thoughts about the craziness of the world outside. It was strange enough cooped up in the house together, but outside the world seemed trapped in a surreal haze. Being in the house with Lila seemed almost normal by comparison. We made a toast with our glasses and wished for a speedy end to the lockdown.
I stared around the yard. I'd had so much time on my hands that I'd kept it immaculate. The patio glowed under soft lights and the water of the hot tub sparkled blue.
"That looks inviting," I said, pointing to it. "I'm going in after dinner. Want to join me?"
"Sure," Lila said.
Neither of us had yet broken the silence about the video. I didn't want to bring it up and I dreaded the prospect of her doing so. I didn't know what I would say.
We cleaned up the dishes together, and I retreated to my bedroom to put on my swimsuit. When I was done, I posed in front of the mirror. I had a dad-bod, but it wasn't bad. I'd exercised regularly and had avoided any lockdown weight gain. I was reasonably trim and fit for a man my age. But was it good enough?
I didn't want Lila to think badly of the way her middle-aged father looked.
I shook my head, yet again. I had to stop thinking that way. It wasn't healthy.
I walked with a towel out of my room to the back patio, grabbing a wine glass and a bottle of wine from the kitchen on the way. I hit the switch to turn on the bubbling of the hot tub. I tossed the towel to the deck and lowered my body into the scorching, churning water.
It was painful but pleasant, and it took my mind off everything else - the insanity of the outside world, the stress of maintaining a remote business, and the increasingly strange thoughts I had about my daughter.
I gulped some of the wine and closed my eyes. My skin adjusted to the heat and my belly felt good with a bit of alcohol in it.
"Mind some company?" I heard Lila's voice say.
I looked up, and Lila was crouching down and dipping her feet into the water of the jacuzzi.
She pulled them out after only a second. "Ouch! That's hot. She tried it again, dipping them slowly, until her legs dangled into the water while she sat on the edge.
She still wore the little shorts and cropped top, exposing a lot of flat tummy as she sat across from me with her arms at her side and her chest out. In the light reflecting off the pool water the outline of her nipples under the top was obvious.
She stretched her legs out, raising them until her toes broke the surface, nails in a French manicure, just like her fingernails.
They look so suckable, I thought before telling myself I couldn't think that.
Lila looked at me with an amused smile.
"What?" I asked her.
"Oh, nothing."
"Come on, what is it?"
"You watched the video. The one I sent you."
She didn't say anything after that. She just watched me, her eyes flickering over my face.
For more than a few seconds my mouth didn't work right. I couldn't speak. My mouth opened, but no words came out. When at last the words did come out, they did so in a kind of croak.
"Lila, I didn't . . ."
"Yes, you did." Again, she stared at me without moving after saying the words.
"How would you know -"
"Because I heard you," she said. "Outside the door."
I think my mouth opened and moved, but I didn't say anything. Lila kept talking.
"I put my ear against the door. I heard the video playing, although you'd turned the sound down. I heard you say my name. I heard the sound of you jerking yourself off."
"Lila," I managed to say at last. "You shouldn't have been listening in on me like that."
"Some people might say you shouldn't be beating your meat to the sight of your naked daughter playing with herself," she said. "But I'm not some people. I think it's great. It's what I wanted."
"What?" My head swam.
"I made that video for you. I wanted you to watch it. I was fibbing about sending it to my boyfriend. I've sent other videos to my boyfriend, but I sent that one to you."
"Lila," I said, my voice husky and uncertain. "Why?"
"Because you're alone, and lonely, and frustrated. I can tell. And I am too. We've both been cooped up here so long. And you take such good care of me. I always feel safe and protected with you. But there's another thing."
"What's that?" I asked.
Lila smiled.
"You're, like, kind of hot, for a dad. You take good care of yourself. I got horny and impatient. I could have just shown up naked at your bedroom door, but I wanted you to want me, first."
She bit her thumb. My mind raced in a million directions. But I was mesmerized, turned on, no question, by Lila's way of talking to me, and, of course, by her hot, sexy body in the skimpy clothes.
"Sorry to tease you so much," she said. "It's time to stop the teasing and move on to the next stage."
My voice responded, like the voice of another person, in a near whisper.
"What's that?"
"It's time for you to fuck me," she said. And with that her arms swept her little top off her body and tossed it to the patio. Lila sat topless in front of me, her breasts swaying and jiggling.
In an equally fast gesture, she jumped off the tile patio and slid her shorts off her hips. Then she lay back and her toes pointed to the night sky and the little shorts, pulled by her hands, slithered up her lean thighs and shins. My eyes focused on the nexus between her thighs and the bare, pale pussy slit that emerged - the one I'd seen and jerked off to in the video earlier.
The shorts lifted off her feet, and she tossed them in the air, and they traced an arc until they landed several feet away from her on the patio.
Lila spread her legs wide, knees far apart. Her eyes locked with mine and I knew she was daring me to look at her.
At first, I couldn't. My eyes stayed on hers, although her nude body pulled on my gaze like gravity. I did not know how I looked to her - probably like I was pleading with her, Do you really want me to do this?
She nodded at me, just slightly, but distinctly enough to know her meaning.
My eyes left hers, and they traveled down her magnificent nude body, down her neck and chest, past her full breasts and thin waist and womanly hips, until they settled on her gorgeous, bare pussy, fully exposed between her lean, spread legs.
My daughter's pussy.
Her hand slid down her belly until it reached the delicate hood of skin over her clit. The fingers of her hand splayed out, spreading her lips with them. Lila's pussy, glistening and pink, lay fully exposed to my eyes. The pearl of her clit popped out from under its hood.
And I couldn't look away. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't.
"Lila -" I started to say.
"Don't say anything, Dad," she said. "Just watch."
I wanted to say something, but I couldn't. The words didn't come. I shut up, and I watched.
Her middle finger snaked down from the button of her clitoris to the open, pink expanse of her pussy, and it pushed in. Lila threw her head back, and she moaned. The air was chilled now, but my body burned like a furnace. Crickets chirped, somewhere. The water in the hot tub rippled. But the sound of Lila moaning rose above everything else.
Her finger pushed in and out of the depths of her wet pussy, and I couldn't pull my eyes away.
"Lila -" I started, but I didn't know what to say.
"You like looking at my pussy, don't you, Dad?" she asked.
"Lila - "I tried to say again.
"Say you like it," she replied. "Say it. Say you like looking at my pussy."
I couldn't say it. I didn't think I could say it. No decent father could say that. But there she was, naked and splayed open before me, her finger darting in and out of her wetness, and whatever was left of my scruples melted away before my lust and the magnificence of Lila's nude body. The impossible became possible, and then inevitable. I wanted to look at her pussy. I needed to look at her pussy.
"Yes," I said after a long pause.
"Yes, what?" Lila asked.
"I like to look," I said.
"Look at what?" she asked. "Tell me, Dad. Tell me what you like to look at."
"I like looking at your pussy, Lila," I said. The words left my lips, but they didn't seem like my words. They felt like they came from someone else, from a million miles away.
"Do you want my pussy, Dad?" Lila asked. The finger of one hand moved in and out of her while the other hand spread her lips open in as lewd a display as she could manage.
I didn't say anything.
"Say it, Dad," Lila urged. "Tell me you want my pussy."
Still I said nothing.
"Say it," she said. "I want that. I want you to want my pussy. I want my pussy to be yours. I want you to fuck it."
"Oh, Lila," I said. My voice was thick and faint and it was all I could manage.
"Say it, Dad," she said.
"Oh, Lila," I said again. "My daughter."
"Yes," she said. "I'm your daughter, and I want you to fuck me. Say it. Say you want it."
I closed my eyes and I knew I had no more resistance. Whatever scruples I had were gone. I admitted it to myself: I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to fuck my daughter. Then and there.
"Yes," I said.
"Yes, what?" Lila asked.
"I want to fuck you, Lila," I said.
Lila pulled her finger out of her cunt with a squishy sound and hopped off her butt into the hot tub and scooted toward me in the steaming water.
She clambered onto my lap. Her legs splayed out. Her butt pushed down on my cock. Her arms enfolded my shoulders and neck. Her face was inches from mine. Her lips were parted and open and waiting.
"Come on, Dad," she said. "Kiss me."
All resistance to my naked daughter was gone. I kissed her.
I'd kissed my daughter before, but never like this. This kiss was not just the kiss of a father, nor just of a lover, but of an animal. Our mouths opened on each other and assaulted each other, with a loud smack. My tongue pushed forward until it met hers, and hers pushed back on mine. Our tongues tussled. Barely aware of what I was doing, I put one hand behind her head to pull her to me, and I put another hand on one of her breasts and tweaked and twisted a nipple between my fingers. The tips of my fingers savored the delicious hardness of her tit.
Lila writhed against me, in my arms.
We sucked each other's mouths, tongues slapping and wrestling against each other, and hands sweeping over one another's bodies. I don't know how long we moved together like that. Time lost all meaning. But, eventually, desire rose in my breast, and I needed more than kissing.
My hands moved down, scooping Lila's ass - that perfect ass -and I stood up and lifted her with me. With a feral growl I slung her over my shoulder.
"Oh!" she cried.
I stood up, and I climbed out of the hot tub, surprised at the ease with which I lifted my daughter.
Lila was surprised, too. I heard her reaction to the way I grabbed and carried her.
"Woah," she said. "Dad."
"Time to go inside," I said.
"Whatever you say," she replied.
I carried her inside the house, water dropping off our bodies. I slung Lila over my shoulder like a prize from a hunt. I didn't care about the water we splattered over the floor. I knew what I wanted and nothing else mattered.
I entered my bedroom. Then I tossed my daughter onto the bed. She bounced off the mattress and her legs splayed wide and her eyes met mine, searching mine, wondering what was to come next.
I didn't keep her in suspense long. My hands grabbed her ankles. I spread her legs wide. Lila's pussy - my daughter's pussy - lay exposed and wet and open to my view.
I knew what I wanted. My hands clutched her thighs and my mouth went forward. I need to taste her. Lila. My daughter.
I descended on her, and my lips contacted her lips - the lips that lay sweet and open between her legs. With one hand I pushed one of her legs back, and with the other I pushed back those sweet lips that beckoned to me. I pushed my tongue forward. I tasted that perfect savory taste, and I pushed further. In another moment, my tongue swirled around and caressed the depths of Lila's cunt. My daughter's cunt.
"Daddy," she moaned.
Lila's voice thrilled me, making my tongue move faster on her, but it stirred another part of me, too: my cock. It twitched, and it hardened. The need rose in me, a need that my mouth on her pussy could not fulfill.
My mouth pulled back. My eyes opened.
Lila's legs splayed open as I pulled back from her.
Our eyes met.
"Fuck me, Daddy," she said.
"That's what I'm going to do," I responded.
My hands went to her ankles and pushed them to either side. Lila's youthful, lean, muscular legs splayed out to either side. I looked down and the fleshy lips of her pussy had parted, already, revealing her pink, moist and sparkly depths.
"I'm going to fuck you, Lila," I said.
"I want that, Daddy," she said.
My cock at this point was steel-hard, and pointing straight toward the gap in her legs, so it wasn't difficult to push forward until the head of my cock nestled at her waiting pussy. Her hole beckoned. I pressed forward. My cock tip pressed against her. With a little angling I directed it toward the depths of her pussy. I pushed. It went in. Lila was so wet that despite the snugness of her pussy my cock head had no trouble pressing forward and soon disappearing inside her. I thrusted again and my shaft slid inside her.
I looked down.
My cock had disappeared completely inside my daughter's wet cunt.
I pulled out, just a little, and I saw the coat of wet pussy juice that coated my cock.
I pushed back in, hard.
"Dad!" Lila cried.
"Lila!" I cried back.
My hard cock plunged into her again, harder and needier still. With every thrust into her she squealed.
After those initial thrusts I maintained a steady rocking motion, in and out of Lila at a fast pace. On every in stroke I pushed the whole way until my body smacked against hers. I didn't want any part of her cunt to go un-fucked. I wanted to consume her entirely. She was mine and I claimed her with every thrust. And from the way Lila's body writhed and from the moans that escaped her mouth I knew she wanted what I wanted. She wanted her Dad to fuck her. She'd wanted that for a while. It had taken me a while to come around, but I'd come around now, and I was all in.
I wanted to fuck my daughter Lila, and I did.
I don't know how long we fucked, but it was a long time. I varied the rhythm of our fucking to keep it going and to hold off my orgasm. Soon after we started, I felt myself getting near to coming, so I slowed down, and when the feeling receded, I sped up again.
The whole time, Lila's body bucked and swayed like an animal. Her voice was feral and needy.
"Oh yeah, fuck me!" she cried.
"That's right, Lila," I said back. "I'm fucking you."
As my cock thrust in and out of her and she gasped with mouth open and eyes closed I beheld Lila's body. She was beautiful - more lovely than any woman I'd ever fucked. I loved the way her breasts jiggled with the rocking of her body under my insistent thrusts. I loved the combination of innocence and animal lust that played over her face. My daughter. My sweet, fuckable daughter.
"Oh, Dad," she said.
"Take that, Lila," I said, thrusting even harder than before.
At last, inevitably, the feeling welled inside, and it would not be held back. I had to come in my daughter. I'd come too far, and now I had no choice. I wanted our urgent father-daughter fucking to end on a high note, so I started pumping harder and faster, and every thrust ended in a sharp smack as our bodies clashed. My cock thickened harder and longer in anticipation of the load to come. And it came. With my eyes focused on the delicate beauty of Lila's lips clinging to my hard-charging cock, I felt the surge coursing through me until the moment of sweet release into her cunt. I came in three grand spurts and several smaller ones. But I stayed inside her until I'd given everything I had. My body - spent and thrilled - collapsed on her, and I rolled over, on my side. We lay on the bed with our faces together, and with my cock still pressed firmly inside her.
We said nothing for a few moments, but our eyes spoke with one another in a silent conversation.
"You fucked me, Dad," Lila said at last.
"I did," I replied, embarrassed but happy at the same time.
"It felt great," Lila said, smiling. "I can't wait until we fuck again." She wrapped her arms around my neck, and we kissed. I pressed a hand against her bare bottom, partly for the sheer pleasure of the feel of her pert ass but partly to keep my cock within her depths.
I thought about what Lila said: "until we fuck again." It had been strange enough to fuck my daughter once. To fuck her again, to fuck her often and regularly - it was too much for my mind to handle in the moment.
But I knew it would happen. There was no doubt about it.
We lay like that together, cuddling each other, for a while, joined the entire time. At last Lila pushed, and we rotated again, and this time I lay on my back on the bed and Lila perched above me, riding me, her snug pussy encasing my cock. She began rocking, and with surprise and pleasure I felt myself hardening again.
Lila looked down at me. Her hair was mussed up and her eyes shone.
"Being sheltered isn't so bad when you're sheltered with the right person."
She pushed down. I pushed up. We pushed together, and together our bodies pushed and pressed against each other and found joy and comfort in a world gone mad.
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