Making Dinner, Part. 3…

As I watched my daughter furiously finger fucking herself on the couch, my hand strayed to my groin. My cock was hard and straining in my jeans and I popped my button and began lowering my zipper slowly so she wouldn’t hear. My mind was racing. What was I doing? Was I going to jack off watching my daughter masturbate? She began to moan louder as she came closer to orgasm. She began panting and whimpering, whispering under her breath, “Yes…oh yes…fuck me…please fuck me, daddy.” A bolt of electricity shot through me from my brain to my turgid cock. She was getting off imagining me fucking her! What the Hell was going on here? Her back arched and she cried out as she came and I hurriedly backed out of the room in case she saw me. What would she do if she opened her eyes and saw me with my jeans open, my cock bulging? Part of me wanted to stay and find out but the more logical part of me was screaming at me to get the fuck out of there before something happened that I would regret.

I clumsily did up my jeans as I ran upstairs. My wife was out of the bath and climbing into bed, so I headed into the still steamy bathroom and closed the door. I stood at the sink looking at myself in the mirror. Things had gotten way out of hand. Try as I might to dismiss the incident in the kitchen as innocent playing and touching taken out of context, there was no way I could explain watching my daughter masturbate while she thought about me fucking her. Nor the reaction it had on me. If I was being honest with myself, thinking about her lying there, fucking herself, the smell of her pussy thick in my nostrils, I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to fuck my own daughter.

As turned on as I was, I was also shocked at myself. Suddenly this felt dangerous. For both of us, but for me in particular. I was the adult here, I was supposed to be the rational sensible one. What was I going to do? There was no way I could think straight with a massive throbbing erection so I turned on the shower and stripped off my clothes. My cock stood out in front of me like a flag of my perversion. Oddly enough, as conflicted as I was, I had never seen it quite so hard. Thick veins stood out along the shaft and the head was purple and swollen, the skin tight and shiny. As I stepped under the water, I tried to remember the last time I’d had such a powerful erection with my wife. I soaped myself up and gripped my cock tight in my fist. I leaned one hand against the tiles and began slowly stroking my length. My thoughts went immediately to my daughter and what I had seen her doing. I let myself run with it, thinking the sooner I got this out of my system the sooner I could begin thinking of a rational way to deal with it. I increased the tempo as I remembered her hand rubbing and stroking under her polka dot panties, her small nipples hard and erect as she pinched and twisted them, the sounds she made as she came closer to cumming. As I replayed her whispered “Fuck me, daddy” I moaned through gritted teeth and exploded in a powerful orgasm, balls clenching, cock throbbing, legs shaking, asshole clenching, my cum arcing and spurting onto the tiles. My head swam with the force of my cumming and it took me a moment to regain my senses.

As I turned off the water and reached for my towel, I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. The bathroom door was not quite closed and I could see the silhouette of someone watching me through the gap. I was pretty sure my wife was in bed asleep by now, so there was only one person it could be. I stood there, dripping wet, cock twitching, looking back at her, wondering what she would do. What I would do. She stayed for a few moments and then walked away.

To be continued…