Henry, once again sat in the living room sofa, book in hand; only this time he had a companion in the room. Both he and his daughter had been hunted from the master bedroom for Joan to do her work. She had come out of the bathroom, hair still wet from the shower, and began fussing over her son. Wanting to run a full range of head injury tests, checks for broken bones, and cleaning up of wounds, she had askes the waiting family members to leave her work in peace.
Henry was still reading the same thriller novel, though progression was now, again, painfully slow. Every single scene shifted and changed, becoming sexual in nature. But unlike before, where his wife and daughter shared screen time, he now drifted almost exclusively to thoughts of Jess. The main reason was that she too sat in the living room with a book in hand, waiting for Joan to finish. A muse in the flesh, waifish with heaving breasts, a pale beauty with legs with dainty toes curled up under her, long sinuous tail trailing along the couch edge, auburn tuft gently brushing the ground.
Current scenes had him manhandling her in every which way, loving and holding, fucking and licking, kissing and sucking, all shaming him greatly, but not enough for him to leave. So graphic were the constant thoughts that he was convinced that Jess could tell he was thinking about her.
Pausing on a scene he glanced up again to sneak a look at her. She sat in profile, with her cheek turned to him. Daintily, with long fingers she flicked a page over, then ran her fingers along her hair, pulling it behind her ear. It looked almost elven. Blushing, Henry looked down.
Jess smiled as his head dropped, scarlet. Something was happening to her, something was changing. There was something in the air. Almost a smell, a feeling, a taste that she couldn’t ignore. Something that almost felt like it soaked her skin through to her core. Seeing James change again, seeing what Henry didn’t, because he didn’t know to look, his wife with a raging erection tenting her dress as she leaned and fussed over James; change would be inevitable. She accepted that now in a way. But she would do it her way, and something she wanted to control was sex. Or more specifically, her first time. It was going to happen here. And soon, she knew that. But it could be an animal, her brother or mother. But she didn’t want that. Jess wanted her father to do it. The strongest influence in her life. He, more than anyone made her feel safe and loved, made her feel excited her to her core. No one else should be worthy.
The flick of her hair behind ear was intentional, to show her daddy her interest, but he wasn’t biting. She needed a better way to show. Clearing her throat she unfurled and slowly slipped off the sofa, standing upright. An arm thrown behind her head and another to the sky she arced her back and stretched, puffing her ample bosom out. Dungarees buckles strained and stretched as she arced. She held the pose for a moment longer than normal, before dropping her arms.
“Just need to stretch my legs, back in a moment” she half whispered, grinning as Henry glared, nodding, red-faced at his book. With a flick and swish of her tail she turned and left to the hall. Closing the door behind her.
Henry screamed internally! This was torture. His aching ballsack was crying for release, and it had picked his little girl…
Outside in the hall, Jess tiptoed on bare feet as quietly as she could to the master bedroom, and pressed her ear against it. The susurration of two people whispering inside made her smile, as did the sound of flesh on flesh.
Perfect. They were busy. And busy in a way that made her far less guilty about what she planned.
She tiptoed away again on dainty feet making her way to the kitchen. Once there she unclipped her dungarees, letting them fall. Next the reached down, fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties. Panties she had been on and off wearing for 3 days now. Panties so fully soaked through with her juices they were completely moist, even now. She rolled them off, balling them in her hand. She pulled her dungarees up again and secured it in place.
Next she inverted a pocket, letting it hang out. Taking a kitchen shears she cut the offending fabric off. She pushed the remains back in, following with her hand, making sure it would reach in past the pocket. Happy with her handiwork, Jess headed back.
“I’m back Daddy…”, Jess drawled. Henry stiffened at the sound of his daughter re-entering the room. Jess grinned, seeing he was sitting in a different position, trying to cover himself; to hide his erection. Slowly she padded past him, making sure her tail flicked out to catch him. Slowly she drew it down his leg, making it look accidental, when in reality it was anything but. Hips swinging and tail swishing she crossed the rest of the room and flopped into her armchair. Finally meeting her father’s face she saw a pained expression; Jess smiled shyly and held his gaze for a few moments longer than normal which he this time did not immediately break.
He was paying attention. Good. Biting her lip Jess tucked her hair behind her ear again, then turned her head to the side so Henry would be able to see. She pulled her legs up and under her again and picked up the book. With her inside hand, the one on the opposite side to her father, she snaked it into her pocket, through the hole she had cut, and on to her honey-cave. Soft, sparse pubes surrounded the slick bloomed flower, as Jess folded through her meaty lips to find the centre of pleasure. Now the show could begin.
Jess spent the first few minutes not doing very much, just keeping the pressure on her clit, making her ears stretch a small amount, then retreat. She really wanted to just masturbate away, but wanted the prize more, and for now it looked like the cabin was letting her have cobtrol.
Henry, fascinated, was watching his daughter. The rub of her tail on his leg had set his desires on fire. He his body wanted to run over, tear her clothes off, flip her over and fuck her till dawn. But she was his daughter… he instead began watching her carefully, watching her ears grow, and shrink, stretch and contract. Watched her face make silent open mouth faces of ecstasy. He was about to say something when she began moving.
Her legs unfurled again, touching the floor. The book was carefully placed down and she looked up. Green eyes meeting her fathers, ears sticking out the side of her head. She held his gaze, he did not look away. What felt like a minute stretched on. Jess licked and bit her lip, her Daddy still didn’t break contact, his nostrils flared as he drank in the room.
Both had made unbroken eye contact now for several minutes and Jess was nervous all of a sudden. This really could happen, she could now really choose to lose her virginity, but she had to act, she couldn’t wait on her father to move.
Painfully slowly, she turned on the couch to face him, now revealing her hand through her pocket masturbating herself. Finally Henry’s eyes broke contact as they gazed down. Jess smiled as his eyes bugged out. He continued to look at her moving hidden hand until Jess left out a gasp of pleasure, timed to get her father back to look up.
Henry regarded his daughter’s flush face, the nymph like attributes screwed up in pleasure. Her eyes trailed down her father’s body. Then came resting on his crotch. She held the pose, licks lipped, until Henry got the message and uncrossed his legs, revealing a tenting erection.
It was on.
Shaking, Jess stood up, on quivering legs she closed the distance, too nervous to make a show of swinging her tail. Her dad’s eyes followed her the whole way as she stuffed both hands into her pockets, one slipping into her dripping folds the other closing around her soiled panties. Coming to a stop in front of him the two sets of eyes locked again. Jess panting looking down and Henry, straining, looking up.
Her hand tightened around her panties as she withdrew it and held it out, turning and opening her hand to offer it. Henry looked at the garment. Simple. Pink. With a Hello Kitty print on them. Henry remembered buying them for Jess, the day she first had her period. Joan, on a twelve hour shift had been unavailable, leaving father and daughter to shop for hygiene products and replacement panties.
Henry could see from half a foot away that the panties were soiled. Soiled by his own daughter’s juices. Juices he could now smell tendrils of in the air. The smell was tangy, musty but pure. Clean almost. Heavenly. Shameful.
“They’re my favourite…” she breathed. Henry’s heart broke, “You’re my favourite”, she whispered, depositing the soiled underwear into his waiting hands. Henry marvelled at how wet it was, if it didn’t smell so strongly of sex he’d have thought his daughter had wet herself. His daughter…
What was he doing? He couldn’t do this! It was his daughter. A weak, very weak band of resistance formed. “Jess!” he started, before her hand shot up and clamped over his mouth. She could smell her juices now, smearing across his face, oh how he wanted to flick out his tongue and taste that nectar, the band was breaking.
She leaned in, he felt her breath on his ear, and the brush of her now fully cow ears. They tickled him as she whispered. “Don’t speak Daddy. You’re safe and can do anything for now. You have to make it out.”. A brief pause, Henry wanted to fuck so badly. “As… as long as you can’t talk. I won’t either.” She pulled back a little, lips drawn in a line, face serious. She watched as her father struggled, one more push then.
Jess’s hand returned again to her pocket, snaking though the hole to her wet treasure. With a sigh two fingers delved into the sopping, meaty folds. Eyelids and fingers fluttering she fully coated her index and middle finger with her slick juices.
Henry watched his daughters eyes flutter, flushed lips parted she left out a sonorous sigh. Henry’s cock jumped and twitched like crazy. The sounds of a woman in the throes of pleasure were deeply sexy. His breath caught in his throat as his baby pulled her hand from her pocket and proffered it to him; fingers glistening and extended. A scent like the panties assailed his nose. Musty, tangy… familiar. He had to try it. Lips parted and glistening fingers slipped in. His eyes closed, tongue rolling over the slick digits. Jess watched her father’s face melt into the moment, mouth happily sucking her slick fingers. She felt so desirable at that moment, his reaction emboldening and bolstering her.
She had only ever come close to sex once before this cabin, with a friend of James’s, Mark. It had been 2 years prior, not long after her flower’s bloom. They had fooled around, she sucking him off, then finally, when she dropped her panties, he recoiled, mocking her meaty vagina in a cruel way that only teenagers could.
His word had spread, before long, and for almost a year, her nickname was “The Ginger Kebab”.
Kids were cruel.
Her father wouldn’t be.
She took her finger from his mouth, silently she brought her hand to one clasp of her dungarees, twisting her wrist to undo the strap. Henry licked his lips as he watched her do the same to the other strap.
The second time in an hour her dungaree fell to the floor. This time in front of the eyes of her father. Henry’s eyes were immediately drawn down to her bare midriff and legs. He could see her. He could see all of her. He was surprised at how developed she was down there, considering how waifish she was otherwise. It looked good to him though, like you could lose yourself down there for days. Oh and that smell. That musty heady smell of wet pussy.
He looked up and smiled at Jess, and she at him, cow ears flicking and turning.