"Practicing" With My Daughter

ONE

My daughter had only been eighteen for a few months when she came to me with a request. I was watching TV, the evening news I believe, when she sat down on the couch with me and said she needed to ask me something. I dote on my daughter, whose name is Kristi, probably to the point that it's unwise and unhealthy, but there it is, I simply adore her and I can't deny her anything, and never have been able to. So since my daughter wanted my attention, I immediately picked up the remote and muted the TV.

"Go ahead," I said to her.

"Okay. So there's a boy that I like," she began, and immediately my spirits soared because Kristi had always been a very shy, introverted girl and had never had the self-confidence to even have crushes on boys. It broke my heart. So now, hearing that there was a boy she liked, I quickly envisioned her dating this unknown boy, and marrying him, and having children with him, and they bring my grandchildren over to see me, all within the space of the second or two before she continued... "But I don't think he could ever like me, and I don't know what to do about it."

"That's ridiculous," I said, taking and squeezing her hand. "You're such a beautiful, smart, funny girl, there's not a possibility in the world that he couldn't like you. You're imagining things."

And this was true, my daughter WAS a beautiful, smart, and funny girl. Most especially, I thought, she was beautiful. Beautiful like her mother was, only not a castrating bitch like her mother was. Nothing like her mother at all, in fact. But they both had the same hair, naturally curly blonde hair, the same chubby face with wonderful cheeks and big bright eyes and thick red lips that hardly needed any lipstick at all, and curvy bodies that took every opportunity to take excess calories and put them on her hips and her bustline.

Kristi was very well-endowed in the bosom, just as her mother had been, but unlike her mother Kristi was highly conscientious about keeping her breasts from sagging, always wearing strong, specially-ordered brassieres designed to hold them high, keeping the ravages of time and gravity at bay for as long as possible. Not that, at eighteen, she had much to fear from time and gravity. Her body was, of course, just beginning the ascent of its biological peak, and it would be many years before she reached the crescent and began the descent into what my ex-wife had now become.

At any rate, my estimation of Kristi's beauty held little water with her, she just thought it was the opinion of a naturally doting father and not an objective opinion, sadly, and so it never dented her low self-esteem. Alas.

Kristi chuckled at my fatherly prejudice and said, "No, Daddy, I'm serious. If he liked me he'd probably know my name. He probably wouldn't have to be re-introduced to me every time I talk to him. He probably would remember that I wrote two term papers for him in English 101 last semester. Don't you think?"

I shrugged. "Well, then he's a fool if he doesn't remember you, so why waste your time with him?"

"I waste my time with him because I like him, Daddy, and I want him to like me back. But I need help in getting him to notice me."

"Okay," I said, "go ahead. How can I help you?"

She took a deep breath. "This... is a big one. You're going to say no. You're going to say no a million times. But I need you to get past those million times, and give it serious consideration. Will you do that?"

I was shocked. "Of COURSE I'll do that, sweetheart. Good lord, what do you take me for? When have I ever just said NO to you and refused to consider what you're asking me? I've never done that."

"I know you haven't, Daddy," she said, nodding, "but this is different."

"Well I don't see how it could be so different. Go ahead and ask me. You'll see."

She took another deep breath, which pushed out her sizeable breasts even further than they already were, and I had to avert my eyes quickly because I'd noticed an alarming tendency in myself lately to look at them, even stare at them, because they were so big and shapely and they jiggled so enticingly in her shirts even when she was wearing a brassiere to rein them in, and that was not something a father should be thinking about in relation to his daughter. It was wrong. So I looked away as she took her breath, and I congratulated myself on my self-control.

But when I looked back at her, her bosom was the first thing my eyes lit on. It seemed to always be the thing my gaze lit on when I glanced at her. Damn it.

"Okay, well, here it is," she said. Yet another deep breath. Look away, look away! "This boy... well, he was talking to a friend of his the other day about what he looked or most in a girl--"

"WOMAN," I corrected her.

"Sorry, a woman, yes. Anyway I happened to overhear him. He said he didn't care about what a girl--woman--looked like, or what she studied, or wanted to be, all of that was all right with him, but there was one thing above all that a woman had to be able to do better than anybody else, in order to win him over." And she stopped, and bit her lip.

"Well, what is it? I'm sure you're a master at it."

"Actually, I've never done it. Ever. Not even one time, ever. I don't even know HOW to do it."

I actually laughed. "A young lady as brilliant as you? I find it hard to believe there's something you don't know how to do, Kristi."

"Well, there is. And this is what I'm asking you, if you'll show me how to do it."

"Of COURSE I will! If there's something I somehow failed to show you, I'm sorry, and I promise you I'd be more than happy to show you, so that you can 'win over' this young man. What is it?'

Yet ANOTHER deep breath, too quickly and unexpectedly for me to look away, and my eyes locked on her big, round breasts and rose with them and fell with them, and I felt my loins waking up and stirring in my slacks, which was unacceptable. I shifted my sitting position to be more comfortable.

"Daddy..." she began, and stopped again.

"Yes? Good grief, what IS it? Just tell me. How awful could it be?"

"Would you show me how to... rub a man's penis and make him reach orgasm?"

To say I was shocked at this would be a catastrophic understatement. These were two words I had never heard my daughter utter, PENIS and ORGASM, and I doubt I'd ever even heard her use the word RUB, either. The birds and the bees discussion had been handled by my ex-wife, because I was frankly incapable of broaching the subject with my darling daughter. I was positive I hadn't heard her right. How could she be saying this?

"I beg your pardon?" I asked.

"Seriously, Daddy. I really mean it. I need to know how to do this."

"But... what... I mean... what? What?"

"He said to his friend today, the thing he loved more than anything in the world was getting, it's called a 'handjob,' and he said his last two girlfriends didn't know how to do it right and that's why he broke up with them. He said he couldn't love a girl--a woman--who didn't know how to do it. I NEED to know how to do it, I need somebody to teach me. You're the only man who I could ever ask."

I was speechless.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she went on. "I just... I don't know what to do. This seems extremely important to him, like he'd never even CONSIDER someone who wasn't really, really good at it."

"Well... well... I mean, why would you even WANT to be with a young man who considered that to be the only important thing about a female, how well, she can... can..." I couldn't even say it.

"It's not the ONLY important thing, Daddy, but it's obviously VERY important to him, it's something I need to know how to do. And there's nothing WRONG with it, is there? I mean, sex is part of any healthy relationship, isn't it?"

Is sighed, and nodded. "Yes, of course it is. But..."

"Haven't YOU ever done it? Or, I mean, had somebody do it to you? Didn't Mom ever do it?"

"Now LISTEN young lady," I began, but stopped. I'd sworn I would always be honest and forthright with my daughter, to show her how important honesty was, and so I took my own deep breath and I nodded. "Yes. All right, yes, I've... experienced it. Yes."

"Is it... IMPORTANT? I mean, is that part of sex important to a man?"

I thought a moment. There were so many parts to a sexual relationship, it was hard to select one thing as being more important than anything else... except, naturally, the act of sexual intercourse itself, and also, naturally, sticking one's cock between a woman's breasts and rubbing and humping until he came all over her neck and face.

Finally I said, "Well... yes, I suppose I'd have to agree that it's important. But, sweetheart, if this person would end a relationship over just that one issue, surely he's not the one for you. That's a very, very shallow position to take."

"Right, I agree," she said, "but if I WAS good at doing it, then I'd be able to show him all the other things about myself that are more worthy, don't you think?"

"Well... I suppose so..."

"So will you show me?" she asked excitedly. "PLEASE say yes, Daddy, please!"

"But I... wait, I mean... you mean you want me to show you a video or some sort, is that it?"

"No, no, not a VIDEO, I've watched videos already, I've read articles on the subject, I've even practiced on carrots and hot dogs. But I need REAL experience, Daddy. That's the only thing that will make a difference. I need to practice on a real, living person!"

"But I... so do you mean you want me to... FIND a man for you to practice this with?"

She sighed and shook her head. "No, I'm not asking you to find me somebody, I'm asking you if you would be willing... to BE the man I practice this with."

"KRISTI!" I said, and the blood rushed from my face. "Are you... how can you... I mean..."

"I TOLD you that you'd say no a million times," she reminded me. "But you promised me that you'd give it serious consideration. In fact, actually, you promised me that you'd do it, no matter what it was."

My heart was racing. This was impossible! How could she even CONCEIVE of such a thing? She was my DAUGHTER! I was her FATHER! How could she ask this of me, and how could I possibly accept? I couldn't! It was impossible, it was unthinkable! It was sick! It was reprehensible! It couldn't be done!

But she was looking at me with the same sweet, loving face she'd always looked at me with, the same look that told me I was her knight in shining armor, her protector, the man she trusted above all others, the one who above all would never let her down. I'd never been able to refuse my daughter anything when she gave me that look. How could I refuse her now?

But, how could I NOT refuse her? How could I possibly do this?

"Kristi..." I began.

"If you say no, Daddy, I understand. I know it's... well, it's crazy. I know it's an awful thing to ask of you. But I really want to have a chance with this boy, and THIS is the thing he wants, and I just KNOW if I could do it, if I could do it WELL, that he'd really notice me and give me the opportunity to show him how much I like him and want to be with him. I just... I had to ask you. Can you forgive me?"

Her words melted me, and I opened my arms to her and she sank against me and I held her. Finally she sat back and wiped her eyes and took another deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"It's... don't be sorry. I'm... I never want you to be unable to ask me something, or say something to me. Complete honesty, that's always been our deal, and it always will be. It's all right that you asked. I'm GLAD you asked. It shows how much you trust me."

She nodded. "I DO trust you, Daddy. More than anyone in the world."

"Let me adjust to this, all right? Let me think about it. Will that be all right?"

She broke into a grin, which made her almost unbearably beautiful and which melted my heart all over again, and she hugged me once again. "That'd be fine, just fine, take all the time you want. Thank you, THANK YOU, for considering it, Daddy! Thank you so much." And with that she got to her feet and wiped another tear away and started for her bedroom.

She made it approximately halfway across the living room before I blurted out, "I'll do it."

She stopped and turned around, her eyes wide like saucers. "Wh--what?"

"I... I'll do it. I'll do it for you. The answer is yes."

Now it was her turn to be speechless. She came back over and sat down on the couch--closer this time, I noticed, her legs were touching mine and I could feel her breath on my face--and looked up at me with the most lovely, touching smile I'd ever seen in my entire life. She said, "Thank you. Thank you, Daddy. Thank you so... so much. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We looked at each other for a long interval, and finally I said, "So... when do you... want to... do this?"

She shrugged and said, "What about right now?"

"Right now, HERE?" I asked, looking around.

"I don't know, I mean, where ELSE should we do it? And why NOT now? Do you want to finish watching the news first?"

I looked at the television. "Uhm, no. No, that's all right, it's not important." I picked up the remote control and turned off the TV.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay," I said.

"What do we do first?" she asked. "You're the expert."

"Well, I don't know if I'd call myself an EXPERT," I corrected. "Your mother used to do it for me quite often early in our relationship, but less and less so as time went on, and... honestly I can't even remember the last time."

"What about Laura Pembroke, the woman you went on a few dates with last year?"

I laughed. "Laura? Good lord, NO. I barely even kissed her. She had... issues."

"Really? That's all you did, was kiss? I got the impression that you did more than that."

Damn. This was getting complicated. I licked my lips and said, "Well, yes, we did more than merely kiss, yes. I'll admit that."

"What did you do?"

I sighed. "Now, young lady..."

"Well, Daddy," she laughed, "I think considering what we're talking about, that telling me what you did with Mrs. Pembroke isn't so outrageous, is it? I mean, seriously."

I laughed too. "Well, all right, you're right... we, uhm... well, to be honest, on our third date we went back to her house and she took off her blouse and her brassiere so that I could... so that I could..."

"Just say it, Daddy."

"... so that I could kiss and fondle her breasts."

As I said this I happened to glance down at my daughter's breasts, and the radical difference in size between Kristi and Laura nearly made me swoon, and I had a split-second vision of kissing and fondling Kristi's breasts, and I must admit it made me quite uncomfortable thinking about it. I put it out of my mind, immediately.

Her eyes widened even more. "You actually kissed her breasts?" she asked. I nodded. "That's incredible! My father, kissing a woman's breasts! Did you kiss her nipples, too?"

What the hell, I thought, and I nodded again.

"Oh my LORD!" Kristi shouted, laughing. "Well so what was the problem, then? Why didn't you let her give you a handjob?"

I cleared my throat. This would be more difficult, more complicated. "Well... that activity didn't really come up. What came next was something else."

"And what was that?" she asked, leaning forward in fascination.

"She... uhm, well... she took me into her mouth."

My daughter's mouth dropped open. "You mean... you mean a blowjob? She sucked your penis?"

More words I'd never heard my daughter say, more uncomfortable sensations below the belt. "I guess you'd call it that, yes. At least, she tried to."

"Why didn't she?"

"Because... this is very very hard to say, Kristina, but... I don't mean to boast or be immodest, but I suppose one could say that I'm rather... well-endowed physically, and... she tried to take me into her mouth, and... she gagged."

I could see her processing this new information. She nodded. "I see," she said. "So in other words, your penis is large, and she wasn't able to fit it inside her mouth, and she gagged on it?"

"That's correct, yes."

"And so what happened next?"

"Well, she... frankly, she KEPT gagging, she tried to drink something, but even after she got herself calmed down she couldn't accept the fact that she was unable to fit it inside her mouth. She tried again, and again, and again, and she kept gagging. The woman had a very strong gag reflex, I gather."

"Then what happened?" Kristi asked.

"Well, naturally I told her it wasn't important, we didn't have to do that, but she said that being able to pleasure a man with her mouth was very important to her, and after trying several different positions... Finally she accepted defeat. She said, 'I can't do it, David, I can't. I just can't.' She seemed on the verge of tears."

"What different positions did you try?"

"Kristi, do you REALLY need to know all this?"

She nodded emphatically. "Yes. I have to know. Please, tell me."

"All right. Well... let's see... of course there was the initial one, wherein I was sitting on the couch with my pants off and she was kneeling on the floor between my knees and trying to take me into her mouth that way... Then we tried with myself standing up and holding it for her while she was on down on the floor on her knees, in essence feeding it to her... then we went back to her bedroom and I lied back on the bed and she leaned over me and tried to do it from above... then she laid down on her back and I straddled her chest and attempted to push it gently into her mouth... none of that worked... finally we tried both lying on our sides, her head down there and she tried to take it into her mouth that way, but it was all to no avail. It never worked. Finally her jaw was too sore and we had to stop."

"How did you... I mean, I know this is a very personal question, Daddy, but how did you stay, you know, TUMESCENT during all these attempts? I'd think you'd be so frustrated that your erection would go away."

I blushed at this, I suppose, and I said in a quiet voice, "Well, to be perfectly honest, she kept her blouse and brassiere off, and her breasts were quite... extraordinary, if I may say so... and therefore I had no problem remaining erect. All I had to do was look at her bosom. That's always been the the thing that, uhm, churns my butter, as they say."

"I see," she said, nodding.

"Also, the fact is, it's always been very difficult for me to lose an erection without an ejaculation. Generally, all of my life, once I get hard I STAY hard until I have that release. In fact, there have often been cases where even AFTER I've ejaculated I remained hard and... more had to be done in order to relieve me. But that was all long ago, of course."

"Oh, so, with Mrs. Pembroke you eventually lost your erection?"

I took a deep breath. We had wandered far afield by now, I felt, but again my commitment to be honest with my daughter was paramount, so I shook my head and said, "Actually, no. She finally asked me to leave, and I was still quite, ah, fully erect."

"So what did you finally do?"

"Well, if you must know, young lady, I got into the car and drove home, and... I sat in the garage and took out my penis and... rubbed it until I climaxed."

"You jerked off, in other words," she said.

"Yes, that's correct. You certainly seem to know all the dirty words."

Kristi shrugged. "I read a lot. So anyway, that did it?"

In fact that HADN'T done it, I'd still been quite erect even after "jerking off" in the car, and had to do it once more after I'd gone inside and climbed into bed, but there was a limit even to the honesty I held in such high regard, so I simply nodded yes.

We were quiet for a few moments after that, I suppose we were both digesting this new phase of our relationship. I know I was. It seemed like a dream to be discussing sex with my daughter, a bizarre dream with no end in sight. I felt we were on a deserted country road with no idea where it went or how we could ever get home. Maybe we never would.

"Was Mom good at it?" Kristi finally asked. "Jerking you off, I mean."

I thought a minute. It really had been a long time. "I suppose so, yes. Especially at first, when she really took it into her mind to please me, she was VERY good at it. Now that I remember it, the truth is we did it a lot. Your mother, well, it wasn't easy for your mother to take me into her mouth either, so she used her hand a lot. Although, I must admit, she did eventually find ways to relax her jaw and open her mouth enough to take it and not gag, and I was very proud of her for that. It showed real determination."

"What did Mom do that made her good at giving you handjobs, Daddy? I want to know what she did that made it special."

"Well... I remember she'd start just by gently rubbing the, uhm, well, the..."

"Yes? What, Daddy? Surely after all this you can tell me."

I nodded. "Yes, of course. Of course. She would take her fingertips and rub the, uhm, the TIP of my penis, the head, if you will. That felt extraordinary, I must admit. She was quite, quite good at that."

She took this in. "I see. All right, and what else did she do?"

"Well, all right, she would alternate her hands so that she was rubbing from different angles, and that felt very nice, and... oh, goodness, what else?... she also would on occasion use the hand that she wasn't using to rub me to reach down and cup my testicles, and rub them gently in her fingers, and I, well, I LOVED that, yes I did.

"And, oh yes, and in the beginning, before she'd taught herself to take me into her mouth without gagging, she would often plant little kisses on it, all over it, little butterfly kisses she called them. And on my testicles, too. Those were some of the things she did."

Kristi nodded. "All right, I think I've got it. Okay, thank you for telling me all that."

"You're welcome."

She took a deep breath and smiled. "And now...?"

"Now what?" I asked, nonplussed.

"Now, if you don't mind, would you take your pants off so I can put these tips and suggestions into practice? Please? That's what we're doing here, after all."

In my heady recollections I'd almost forgotten. I nodded. I stood up, and I unbuckled my belt, and then I turned to her and said, "Sweetheart, are you positive that you can't simply use what I've told you to try and woo your young man? Are you sure you need to actually, physically do it first?"

"Daddy," she said patiently, "what if I get confused and don't know what I'm supposed to be doing? I mean, haven't you always told me that book learning is all fine and good but that HANDS-ON EXPERIENCE is the most important thing?"

"Yes, I suppose I have told you that," I sighed, and I unbuttoned my pants and unzipped the zipper. I wasn't hard yet but I felt the tingling beginnings of an erection, and I shuddered to think what would happen in the next moments. I hooked my thumbs on the waistline of my trousers and slowly, agonizingly slowly, began to lower them, so agonizingly slowly in fact that Kristina finally had enough and she took hold of my pants and jerked them down, out of my grasp.

Now my pants were around my ankles, and the sizeable bulge in my underpants was mere inches away from my dear daughter's face. And her lips. NO, no, don't think of things like that, I told myself... I took the elastic waistband of my underpants in my fingers and lowered them until finally there I was in all my "glory," as they say, naked from the waist down.

My penis, my "cock" as it were, hung outwards and down not unlike an elephant's trunk, the rubbery head low, hanging down the way a thin branch hangs low with heavy fruit at the end, waiting to be picked. I felt the weight of my loins and despite my mental state of total shock that all this was happening, I felt the power and the heft of my oversized penis and I felt a surge of pride, particularly once I saw the look of open amazement that my daughter displayed at seeing it for the first time.

When I was a young man I often enjoyed seeing the stunned, overwhelmed look on girls' faces when they got their initial look at it, and I reveled in watching them work out in their minds what it would feel like to put that enormous thing inside their vaginas, and the flicker of worry that would cross their features as they pondered it.

"Oh my GOODNESS," Kristi gasped, her lips parting in shock. "It's... VERY large, isn't it?'

I kicked my pants and underpants away from me, which caused my "cock" to sway back and forth heavily before her gaze, and I saw her eyes move back and forth with it. With no small amount of satisfaction I saw my daughter lick her lips, which I remembered her mother doing the first time SHE'D seen it, as well. It was, I admit, a sight to behold.

"Why in the WORLD would Mother ever leave you when she had... THIS... to come home to?" Kristi asked, shaking her head in amazement.

"I don't know, sweetheart," I said, looking down at her curly-blonde head and remembering her mother's curly-blonde head in the same place, her lips parting to try once again to take me into her mouth and try to suck me. "There are more things in life than the size of one's husband's penis, you know."

"I guess so," she said, sounding unconvinced.

So I stood and let her feast her eyes on me, gape and contemplate and examine me from every angle, I gave her all the time she wanted in the world. She stared at my cock dreamily, and licked her lips again and chewed on her lips as I'd seen her do a million times when she was working out a problem.

"I think I can see why so Mrs. Pembroke had such a hard time getting you in her mouth," Kristi finally said, nodding to herself. "I don't know if I'd be able to do it, either. At least not right away. But I wouldn't give up as easily as she did."

"I know you wouldn't, honey," I said proudly, smiling down at her. "You're just like your mother that way."

"Daddy, how many times did Mom try and suck it before she finally got it?"

"Oh, I don't know... a half-dozen, maybe. It wasn't that difficult, once she was able to tame her gag reflex. She said that was the hardest part."

"How did she finally do it?"

"I don't know, exactly. She, uhm, she rather hurt her jaw at one point and we had to take a break, and while we were apart she did something, or read something, that showed her how to open her mouth wide enough and relax her throat muscles enough to take it in, and after that we had no more problems. Your mother was the first woman to really be able to do it, except... well, never mind."

She looked up at me. "Never mind WHAT? Come on, out with it!"

"Oh, good grief... all right, why not? The second woman I had sexual intercourse with was a prostitute, a woman who lived down the street from us and made her living "turning tricks," as the saying goes. She was well-experienced, as you can imagine, and one day she invited me over for a root beer and told me since I was a neighbor she'd give me half-price rates if I wanted to become a steady customer. Which I did, but after my money ran out she simply began doing it for free.

"And when SHE sucked me, well... without going into graphic detail, let's just say she'd had a lot of practice and she knew very well how to perform the deed in question. She was quite, quite adept at it. I never thought I'd meet another woman who could suck me the way she sucked me, until your mother finally figured it out."

"I see," Kristi said, returning her gaze to my hanging penis. "So she was the second woman?"

"Yes. And the third, and fourth, and fifth... probably all the way up to a hundred or so."

"Really? You had sex with her a hundred times?"

"More, I should think," I said, trying to calculate the number in my head. "Particularly if you count the blowjobs, it was well into the hundreds, even the thousands. I spent... a lot of time over at her house. And on occasion she'd sneak into my room at night, and so on, and so forth."

"My goodness," Kristi said. She was silent, and then she said, "And so if she was your second, who was your first?"

I cleared my throat. "That... I'd rather not discuss, if you don't mind. It's not something I like to talk about, or think about."

"Oh." She pouted, puffing out her heavy lower lip. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," I told her.

"No, it's okay, I understand." Then she sat up straight, pushing out her big round bosom, and with a deep breath she finally said, "All right, let's begin. Have a seat."

I lowered myself onto the couch, feeling the bounce and sway of my penis as it slapped against my thigh when I sat, and I scooted myself back. I felt quite exposed, which I was, and even a little uncomfortable, despite everything we'd been talking about so far. My daughter leaned over a bit to get a look at it from this new angle, and then she looked up at me.

"Is it... I mean, is it supposed to get hard before I touch it? How does this work?"

"Well, actually, the truth is, part of your job is to MAKE it hard, if it isn't already hard."

"Oh, I see," she nodded. "How do I do that?"

"Well, you do that by taking it into your hand and rubbing it, don't you? That's how you start any job, you simply START. Wrap your fingers around it and gently move your hand up and down, up and down."

She nodded. "All right. May I?"

"Yes, you may," I said with no small amount of trepidation, and I leaned back against the couch and watched my lovely daughter scoot closer to me, up against me now, and I watched her hand dip down and cup under my cock, which was lying on my left leg, and gently pick it up in her palm.

I gasped. That first touch of Kristi's hand to my penis was electric, I felt it in my head and down into my toes like a lightning-bolt, I was flooded with erogenous sensations such as I'd never felt before in my entire life. This young woman, whom I had taken a part in creating and bringing into the world, was now holding in her little hand the very organ which had begun her life, from which had issued the very fluid which had sparked her own conception. I was dazzled by the sheer irony of what was happening, and I stared down at her holding me with astonishment and absolute fascination.

"Does this feel all right, Daddy?" she asked.

"It feels... wonderful," I admitted, and smiled.

Gently she closed her fingers around the shaft of my penis, but of course even without an erection it wasn't possible for her to wrap her hand all the way around so that her thumb was touching her fingertips; few women could. So she held as much of it as she could, and slowly she began to stroke, moving her palm up and down as I'd explained to her, rubbing the loose skin and tenderly squeezing the pliable thickness in her hand.

"Oh GOODNESS," I breathed, leaning my head back in pleasure, absolutely loving the feeling of my daughter's fingers holding my cock. "Oh my goodness," I repeated.

"Are you sure you've never done this?"

"No, never, Daddy, I swear. Does it really feel good?" she asked.

"Oh YES it certainly does. It does, very very much. Oh GOD!" I said, loudly.

So she rubbed me, and I closed my eyes and simply enjoyed everything that was happening in this moment, I listened to the quiet, shifting sounds as she did her work. Soon she braced herself by slipping her arm around the back of my neck and I felt her fingers absently playing with my hair, and I loved that too, I felt a sudden impulse to kiss her but naturally I held back from doing anything like that, it would be over the line, of course.

I don't know how long we sat like that but finally I heard Kristi clear her throat and with a slightly worried tone she whispered, "Daddy, are you SURE this feels good?"

"Sweetheart it feels wonderful," I said again. "Just wonderful."

"Then... why isn't it getting hard?"

I opened my eyes and looked down, and sure enough I'd been so involved in the pleasurable sensations I'd been experiencing that I hadn't noticed my penis was still as limp as ever. Of course this had happened before, many times, especially late in my marriage to Kristi's mother, it took a lot of blood to fill this trunk of mine and sometimes it took a long time to get it going. It had never happened that the "miracle" didn't happen EVENTUALLY, there was nothing unusual about it taking awhile, but I could see Kristi's face filling with doubt and fear that she was doing something wrong.

"Sweetheart, don't worry," I told her, putting my palm gently to the side of her lovely young face. "Sometimes it takes a bit of time for me to get an erection. It doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong, or that I don't love what you're doing. A penis as large as mine sometimes takes a little time to 'rev up,' as they say."

"Oh," she said, nodding.

"What you're doing is perfect," I assured her.

"All right." And she rubbed awhile longer, and we looked down at my thick, flaccid member in her hand as she performed her tender ministrations, and I was perfectly satisfied with her work but after a few moments my determined young daughter whispered, "Daddy?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Are you SURE there's nothing else I can do to help you along? There must be something."

And of course there was something, and I'd begun thinking of that something just at the split-second that she'd spoken because my mind was becoming open to all the new avenues of this new venture we'd undertaken... I hadn't intended to bring it up, of course, assuming that it would be a bridge too far... but since she'd asked, I calculated that she might be able to accept the concept, and so I cleared my throat and sat up a bit.

"Well, if you're serious about that..." I said.

"Oh I AM, I AM," Kristi insisted, and began rubbing my penis faster and squeezing it harder, which was fine but not what I had in mind. I reached down and put my hand over her hand and slowed her movements.

"What I was thinking of--and please, PLEASE tell me if this is offensive to you in any way, and I'll never mention it again I promise--but I was thinking... that if you took off your shirt and your brassiere, it might inspire me."

Kristi looked down at her bosom as if she'd forgotten it was there, and then looked back up at me with surprise. "You mean, you want to see my breasts?"

"Well... yes, I would, very much so. Again, if it's not offensive to you."

She laughed. "Oh my goodness, I hadn't thought of that. Of course! Daddy, it's not offensive to me at all! If you think it'll help I'd be happy to show them to you, MORE than happy!"

And with that she let go of my penis and unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a depth of cleavage I hadn't thought possible, shadows and chasms there that beckoned me, captivated me, I stared in shock as she shucked off the blouse and revealed the thick-strapped industrial-strength brassiere that her mother had bought her last Christmas, black with a touch of frilly lace at the fringe. It frankly shoved her breasts together like a vice, pushing them so close together it almost looked painful, and pushed them up and over the top in a great swelling velvety mass of soft flesh.

Smiling at me, she reached behind herself and undid a few dozen hooks and the brassiere shifted forward and away, she lifted it off and tossed it aside, and there for the first time I saw my daughter's big bountiful bosom, two large, high, firm globes with the faintest hint of downy hairs across them, a dream of the perfect breasts, or "tits" as one might say, or "knockers," or "boobs," or "hooters," or whatever the young say nowadays, they were vast and soft and splendid and everything I'd been fantasizing about.

Yes, it was true I'd been dreaming about them for some time now, in fact if I'm to be completely honest it was my daughter's hefty bustline that I'd fantasized about that night after failing with Laura Pembroke, lying in my bed with my bone-hard penis in my desperate hands and dreaming, despite my revulsion with myself for even contemplating such a thing, of my lovely young girl leaning over me and dangling those magnificent puffy things over my face and letting me lick and kiss them and nibble and bite her nipples, and it had been the shocking, shameful vision of pushing my cock between those unbelievable bon-bons and rubbing myself raw in that heavenly crevice that had finally allowed me to ejaculate, or "cum" if you prefer, a massive splashing geyser all over myself and the sheets, and finally I was able to soften and fall into a deep, deep sleep, all thanks to the mere FANTASY of what I was now witnessing for real before my hungry, popped-open eyes.

And her NIPPLES! I'd never seen nipples so grand! Her mother's nipples had been tiny pink buds, barely noticeable but oh-so-sensitive, I could drive her wild just by brushing my fingertips against them, or my tongue, or the tip of my penis... by contrast Kristi's nipples were large, quite large, they stuck out from her breasts like big red buttons, thick and protruding and surrounded by a frankly enormous aureole, probably three inches in diameter, spotted with tiny bumps and overrun with the same downy hairs that covered her breasts. In my wildest dreams (and I'd had many wild dreams about them) I'd never imagined that my daughter's nipples were so beautiful and inviting.

Kristi giggled, seeing the shocked pleasure of my gaze upon her splendiferous mammaries, seeing how pleased and overwhelmed I was.

"Do you like them, Daddy?" she asked, nibbling innocently on her finger and leaning her head back and gently pushing them out towards me. She already knew the answer.

"Yes, very much," I replied with a dry throat.

She jiggled them back and forth a little, laughing at my reaction as I watched them sway. "Do you want to know something?" she asked.

"All right."

She bit her lip and with a naughty smile she said, "I already KNOW you like them, because I've seen you looking at them lately."

Startled, I looked up at her face. "You--what? You have?"

"Daddy it's OKAY, it's all right. I've seen you looking, of course... I mean a girl with boobies this big knows when a man's looking at them, and I've seen you looking, and I didn't mind at all. I was glad you liked them, I WANTED you to look at them and like them."

"You... you did?"

"Sure, Daddy. I want to please you, for everything you've done for me, because I love you so much. Haven't you noticed that I've been wearing more low-cut shirts and blouses with more buttons undone?"

I had, in fact, noticed this, but in my guilt tried NOT to notice, and in trying not to notice I'd been driving myself nearly insane.

"I did that for YOU," she said, her hands resting on my thigh, stroking me tenderly, absently.

"I..." That was all I could muster. I looked at her beautiful young smiling face, and then down at her beautiful young round breasts, and then back at her face, and then back down at her breasts. I was overtaken with shock and gratitude, and the relief I felt was like a massive rainstorm sweeping through me. She KNEW I'd been looking at her, and she didn't mind! In fact, she liked it! She invited it! I could scarcely believe it.

"Do you think looking at them might 'inspire' you to get hard now?" she asked.

"I... yes, I assume so."

"Let's try it, shall we?" And with that, she leaned forward and took tender hold of my penis again and began to rub it, while I gazed at her breasts as they swayed and bounced while she moved. I was beside the moon, over the moon, with desire and affection as I watched her do her work.

"Okay, now, you mentioned that Mom would use her fingertips on the tip of it, isn't that right?" she whispered, and without waiting for an answer, with the free hand which was not rubbing the thick shaft she began brushing her fingertips against the rubbery head of my sizeable member, or my "big dick" as it is commonly known, she swirled her fingers around lovingly and tenderly, and used her palm to smooth the surface and caressingly pinch the rubbery head of my cock.

"Is this right? Does this feel good?" she asked.

I moaned my pleasure, mute with gratification, and the actions of my body began to answer for me: I could feel my penis growing harder in her hands, and from the way she gasped and stared it was obvious that she could feel it, too. Together we watched my cock rise and thicken and harden over several minutes, it's impossible to guess how many, but we sat and watched it happen together.

"This seems to be working, Daddy," she said with satisfaction, and without saying anything she switched hands, grasping my cock with her left hand and then tenderly reaching down between my spread thighs and cupping my testicles in her tiny palm.

"AAAGHHHHH OHHHHH," I muttered with animal gratification, raising my hips up from the couch to give her better access, and I felt her fingers lovingly scoop and close around my balls and rub them, and she leaned forward to look down at her hand fondling my testicles and in so doing her heavy hanging breasts brushed against my elongating penis, I felt the rubber-hard nipple flick against the rubber-hard helmet-like head and I stopped breathing for a time, so overcome was I with lust.

For the first time, completely out of the blue, the electric-shock notion came to me: could this encounter possibly end up with me having sex with my own daughter tonight?

But then quickly, immediately, I banished that thought as unworthy and wrong, and impossible, of course impossible, and besides, was I forgetting what we were doing here? She had come to me to teach her how to do this, so that she could better woo a young man she was in love with at college. This was not about ME; I could take pleasure from it, and I most certainly was, but the subject at hand was showing my wonderful girl how to give a "hand-job" to this boy she wanted to impress. That was my mission here. Of course. Absolutely. No more thoughts of...

"You certainly do seem to like having me caress your testicles, Daddy," Kristi cooed.

"I'll have to make sure and remember that for later."

And I began to hear the wet slapping sounds of my nearly-hard cock as she stroked and rubbed it, that familiar sound of a loving hand rubbing and squeezing the rock-hard shaft, up and down and up and down, splish splish, squeak squeak, the harder it gets the harder you squeeze, the faster you rub, the dirtier and angrier and rougher the movements get to feel the pulsing hardness in your palm.

Only for the past few years the hand around my big hard cock had been my own, drawing forth my orgasm so that I could relax and sleep. For a moment a few months ago I'd held out the hope that I'd found a woman to do it for me, and all the other things I liked a woman to do to me, and doing all the things to her I liked doing such as feeding on her succulent breasts and lapping a feast between her trembling thighs, and then finally burying my bone-hard member inside her moisture-covered vagina, or "pussy" if you will, or "cunt," and exploding my orgasm inside of her... but that hope had been dashed and it had been back to my hand.

And now, it was my daughter's hand.

But this was all there was going to be, and I could live with that but NOW, for this moment I wanted to feel all of it and enjoy every second of it, and I sat back and closed my eyes and let myself feel it, feel Kristi's loving fingers working harder on me as I grew harder, and her loving fingers cuddling my balls, now stroking them with her fingertips and now simply cupping them, holding them, letting them lie heavy in her palm. I knew it was the greatest thing I would ever feel in my life.

And then she switched her hands again, taking my now-erect cock as best she could in her right hand and touching my shoulder with her left hand, and caressing my jaw and my cheek. I smiled.

"Now it seems there was something else you mentioned that I should do," she whispered, and to my surprise I felt her breath against my ear and realized that her face was only an inch away, and I felt her firm naked breasts settle against my arm. "What was it? Let me think... oh yes, I remember now... butterfly kisses."

And she kissed my ear, oh-so-softly, just brushing her lips against it, and then she kissed my cheek, and she kissed my jawline, and she kissed my neck, and scooting downwards she kissed my shoulder, and she kissed my arm, and she lifted my hand and kissed that, and she kissed my chest, and she kissed my stomach... and then I felt her lips brush against the head of my cock and I nearly had a heart attack.

Another butterfly kiss there, and another, and another, and for a moment she stopped rubbing me and she braced herself on my legs as she leaned down and began spreading kisses all over the rubbery head of my cock and then down along the shaft, down one side and up the other, kissing everywhere, smothering my straining penis with her lips.

"AAAAAAAHHHHH.... OH GOD OH GOD....." I grunted.

I desperately wanted to put my hand on the back of her head and push her face down until my cock pushed its way between those beautiful red lips that were loving me, but I knew I dare not, it was horrible even to fantasize about... but as my daughter kissed her way all over my cock I did fantasize about what it would feel like to feed myself into her gaping mouth, gagging her for a second but then teaching her to relax her throat muscles and take all of me in... and out, and in, and in... I couldn't stop myself, I allowed myself that fantasy.

However, I stopped myself from the fantasy of laying her down on my bed and spreading her legs and lowering myself down onto her and giving her my cock an inch at a time, a millimeter at a time, taking time with it because it was so big and she was so new to it... NO NO no more of that now, no more, this was enough, this was more than enough, this was enough to remember and cherish for the rest of my life.

How long my daughter kissed my cock I can't say. It felt like forever. I did open my eyes to find that my hand was in fact resting on her head, my fingers in the curled locks of her blonde hair, but I was not pushing down at all, I swear I wasn't, I was merely stroking her hair, just gently stroking the way her lips were stroking my penis. That was all right. That was acceptable.

And I felt her cup my testicles again and hold them, and then to my astonishment I felt her lips caress them too, and I began to wonder how exactly I was managing not to explode an orgasm right now, because this was the absolute zenith of sensation in my entire existence. There was nothing more to feel anymore. Nothing.

"Daddy?" Kristi asked from down between my spread legs.

"Mmmm--yes?" I managed.

"Are you close to having an orgasm yet?"

"Uh, yes, well yes I'm getting close, yes."

"Okay, then what more should I do at this point?"

"Uhm... well, my suggestion is for you to redouble your efforts at rubbing, and that should have the desired effect."

"Oh, okay then," she said, and she sat up and wrapped her fingers around my cock once again and began to jerk it. "Like this?"

"UUUHHHGGH... yes, wonderful..."

"What else should I do, Daddy? Tell me."

"OHHHH! Ohhh, uhm, well, rub it faster, please."

So her hand sped up and she was rubbing my cock with increasing speed, and I settled back against the couch and spread my legs wider, I closed my eyes and moaned with absolute pleasure.

"You--UHH!--sweetheart, you can squeeze it a little harder, by the way," I grunted.

"Oh, good idea," she said, and her hand held me tighter, not painfully tight but tighter, squeezing as she rubbed with a passion I hadn't known she was capable of, and the slapping, slippery sounds of her hand rubbing the skin of my penis filled the room. I felt the barest, early beginnings of the coming of my orgasm, from miles away but approaching now, definitely approaching, drawing from the tips of my toes and the hair on my head, drawing everything slowly, agonizingly slowly, towards my midsection, towards the straining penis in my dear daughter's pumping hand.

After a few minutes, as if from afar I heard Kristi's voice. "Daddy?"

"OHHHH... yes, my angel... OHHHH."

"Didn't you say that looking at my breasts would help you? Why aren't you looking at them?"

"Well, I... I'm slightly more focused on what you're doing with your hand right now..."

Her hand rubbed on, but I could feel the pressure of her fingers lessen slightly, and the speed of her jerking began to slow, imperceptibly at first, but so fixated was I that I immediately noticed what was happening.

I opened my eyes and saw that Kristi was pouting, looking down and pouting as she often did when something was bothering her.

"OHHH, OH GOD... uhm, uh, what's, what's the matter, darling?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said, and I could deduce from her tone that she wasn't telling the truth.

"Kristina," I said with my authoritative father's voice, "tell me what's the matter."

She took a deep breath and shrugged. "Well I THOUGHT you liked looking at my breasts, I liked you looking at them, it made me feel good for you to look at them, but now you won't look at them and I don't know WHY. Should I put my shirt back on?"

"No! No no no, not at all, please don't. I LOVE looking at them, sweetheart. I'll look, I promise."

And she broke into that angelic grin of hers which I so adored, and she sat up straight to display her amazing breasts as they swayed and bounced from the movements of her hand, and as she now redoubled her efforts to squeeze and jerk me off even harder, her spectacular breasts bounced and swayed even more, and she was right, I did like looking at them. If I could tell her all the things I wanted to DO with them it would shock her.

So I watched her bosom bob and wobble madly as her hand pumped up and down on the shaft of my rigid penis, I felt so hard now that it seemed I could bring down a wall just by swinging it, the sheer power and mass of my cock in her hand astonished me and I found my gaze wandering from Kristi's breasts to my great solid penis.

I felt a surge of pride in the fact that at my age I could still attain such an impressive erection, even a sensation of wonder. Why, here I was almost fifty years of age, and I had the cock of a twenty year-old! What man alive wouldn't want to look down and see what I was seeing? What woman wouldn't want this pink crowbar plowing its way between her legs and into her awaiting pussy? YES! Yes, yes I thought, YES--

"You're not looking at them, Daddy," Kristi reminded me.

"Sorry, precious," I said, and I tore my gaze from my cock and returned it to her swaying breasts, which admittedly was not a disappointing sight, even in comparison to my penis.

As if to reward me, just then the hand which was not jerking me off reached down and held my own hand. I squeezed her hand in affection, but that wasn't what she was after; she was already moving my hand, lifting it, and placing it on her breast.

My eyes nearly popped out of my skull. "Kristi!"

"I want you to touch them, Daddy. Nobody's ever touched them before, not like I want them to be touched. If you love me, you'll touch them."

And so I cupped my daughter's soft globe of a breast in my hand, and it truly did feel magnificent in my palm, I had to admit that, and my fingers closed around the firm young flesh, and I felt the hardness of her nipple, and I squeezed her breast and she gasped, and I squeezed it again, harder, and she cried out with pleasure.

"OH DADDY YES SQUEEZE THEM, FEEL THEM!" she shouted.

In all the commotion she had stopped rubbing my penis, and I said, "You're neglecting your duties," I reminded her, and now it was my turn to take her hand in mine, and place it back where it belonged. "Your young man will want you to keep keep going until you've finished."

And she began rubbing again. She was a natural at this. I felt so proud of her.

So I looked at her as she kept jerking me off, and I watched her lovely breasts bounce and flop about wildly, and I cupped them and squeezed them and she threw back her head and moaned, nearly falling off the couch. I put one hand on her waist to hold her still, and her fingers dug into my shoulder.

I found a nipple and I rubbed it between my fingertips, amazed at how big it was, almost as big as my thumb, I tweaked it and squeezed it... and having my daughter's hard bud of a nipple in my fingers was too much, it drove me over the edge and I felt that wonderful swelling of energy between my legs, drawing itself into the shaft of my cock.

"OH GOOD LORD OHH I'M GOING TO CUM!" I shouted.

"YES CUM!" she shouted back, and her hand rubbed me viciously and I bucked my hips involuntarily... and in the heat of the moment I wanted nothing more than to lift my daughter onto my lap and set her squarely down on my cock, to feel it sink upwards into the soft yielding wetness of her cunt, I wanted to bury my pulsing, jumping shaft deep within her... but that was wrong, of course--I felt strong enough to lift her and set her down on my cock, and lift and lower her, rubbing her on my shaft merely with the muscles of my arms.

I'd done that once, many years ago, with a tiny young woman who wasn't much older than Kristi was, I literally used her body to masturbate myself--it was an indescribable--

--but before I had time to reflect on that memory further, the orgasm was upon me and a geyser of ejaculate spewed forth from my jerking cock.

"OH DADDY!" Kristi cried out in surprise. "OH MY GOODNESS!"

I continued to squeeze her breast and pinch her nipple as the thick whiteness disgorged like lava from the red, volcanic head of my penis... some men, I gather, "shoot" cum out of their cocks like firing a water pistol, spraying it here, there, a jet of the stuff splashing across the bed, across their partner's face...

For myself, despite the pressure I feel released in my balls when I cum, it usually spills forth out of me more like a geyser, not unlike the act of squeezing syrup from a bottle, covering the shaft of my penis and oozing down over my nether regions, getting everywhere.

This is what happened now, and it quickly saturated my daughter's still-pumping hand, dripping thickly from her grasping fingers. Far from acting repulsed at the sight of my semen covering her hand, Kristi seemed transfixed at the sight, even smiling in wonder at the amount of it erupting from my jerking cock.

"OH MY GOODNESS!" she said again, laughing, and she reached down with her other hand and spread some of it on her fingers, lifting it to her face for a closer look. "It's beautiful," she said. She sniffed it. "It even SMELLS good."

I said nothing but I wondered if she was curious enough to taste it.

She apparently wasn't. She did, however, wipe her fingers on her blouse.

My penis began to soften, albeit quite slowly, and my darling Kristi continued to rub it, gentler now but not less determinedly. I felt the sexual tension ease out of my body and I collapsed back into the couch, utterly spent. My hand did still cup my daughter's ample breast, but I was no longer squeezing it, I was simply holding it because I was too exhausted to release it.

"Thank you, precious," I breathed, closing my eyes, completely satisfied.

"Daddy, that was wonderful."

"It most certainly WAS," I agreed. "Your beau will be a very, very lucky man indeed if you'll do that for him."

Reluctantly, apparently not wishing to relinquish her hold on me, Kristi's pumping motions slowed to nothing and tenderly she removed her cum-covered fingers from my unstiffening cock. With an audible PLOP my member fell against my thigh, in a bath of thick white fluid that now enclosed my legs and some of the couch beneath me.

She slowly got to her feet, causing me to release my loving grip on her breast, and as I watched through half-lidded eyes she walked across the living room and into the bathroom, to clean off her hands, of course.

I knew I should get up and clean myself off, too, but I was so contented and fatigued that I felt my eyes close, and against my will I began to fall asleep. But suddenly I felt something warm and wet working at my loins, and I opened my eyes.

My wonderful daughter had returned from the bathroom with several hand towels and a couple of wet washcloths, and she knelt between my spread legs and began to meticulously clean the splooge from my penis and legs, conscientious as I'd always taught her to be, loving and kind and generous to a fault. I watched her do her work, I smiled at her when she looked up and smiled at me, tenderly cupping my cock and balls as she applied the warm washcloth all over them and slowly, lovingly drying me off when she was done.

"There you go, Daddy," she said, softly settling my cock back on my thigh.

"Thank you, Kristina."

"Did I do a good job? At the handjob, I mean."

"Sweetheart, you are a NATURAL. Everything you did was wonderful. It was, truthfully, the best handjob I've ever had in my entire life."

Her eyes were wide like saucers. "Really?"

"I'm quite serious. I think your young man will propose marriage to you once you show him how talented you are. If he puts that much stock in a woman's ability to jerk him off, I can assure you he'll never find anyone better at it than you are."

She blushed, and I noticed that her breasts, which were still uncovered and swaying gently as she knelt before me, burned reddish as well. "Well," she whispered, "I have a good teacher."

And with that we were apparently finished. My daughter went into the kitchen to begin fixing dinner, and I got up to rearrange my clothes and put a towel down on the couch where my ejaculate still dampened it.

After dinner we watched a little more television, and then we kissed goodnight and went off to our separate bedrooms, and the apartment was still and dark and soon the whole episode began to take on the appearance of a dream in my mind, a fantasy, and despite the fact that I still felt her magical fingers on me, and still felt the soft weight of her abundant breast in my hand and the giant hard nipple between my fingers, I began to wonder seriously if I had dreamt it, after all.

I hadn't.