Watching My Daughter [Mf, masturbation]

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This story is completely fictional.

Dads are supposed to be protective of their daughters. The stereotype is you wait in the living room when she has her first date and scare the holy hell out of the boy, insuring she’ll be safe and “virtuous” when she comes home. You set curfews and ask people out in the community to keep an eye out for the couple and make sure everything’s safe for your daughter. My own experience has been somewhat different. Oh, I want my daughter safe, and I’d do anything to protect her. But keeping her “virtuous” – that’s a very different matter.

Before you get the wrong idea you should know, I’m not a molester. I’ve never touched my daughter inappropriately or asked her to touch me. I’ve never talked dirty to her or made a pass or made her feel uncomfortable in any way. No one has a more protected, peaceful life than my daughter. And it shows in who she’s become. She’s a straight-A student, president of the student council, and a cheerleader. For her sixteenth birthday last month, we gave her a car. Nothing extravagant, but nice enough. All in all, she has nothing to complain about in her life.

To top it all off, she’s about as hot as a sixteen year old can be. Not the huge tits and long legs type – big hair and lots of makeup. No, her sexiness is of a very different type. She has the blonde hair, but it’s shoulder length and straight. Her eyes are a pale blue. Her skin is ivory. And while her boobs are about average, a B cup I’d guess, she’s incredibly fit, with nice tone legs, a flat stomach, and perky tits that sit up high on her chest. She’s not the type to wear short shorts or mini-skirts that show off all her assets. But she knows how to pick a pair of jeans, and she’s not above showing off a touch of her belly some days. All in all, she looks like the All-American girl – not the slutty girls your mouth drops open about, but the sexy little kittens you marry just so you can fuck every night.

I know, I know. I sound like the molester I said I wasn’t. Of course, I never said I wasn’t a pervert – just not a molester.

But if you don’t have a daughter who looks like mine, I’m not sure you can really understand what it’s like to catch her coming out of the shower every once in a while, the steam chasing her down the hall, a pink towel wrapped around her, but just barely covering her ass – watching her wiggle on her cute bare feet down the hallway to her room. Or sitting on the couch watching basketball while she lounges on the loveseat directly across from me, nothing on but a t-shirt and a pair of light green panties – that’s right, I snuck a peak. Like I’m supposed to be immune to the way her tits hang beneath the shirt or bounce about when someone scores a couple of points.

I wouldn’t tell my wife, of course. If you don’t get it, she certainly wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t want to upset the whole house. After all, I’ve got it good – my wife’s no slouch in the looks department, and we have our moments every once in a while when Lucy’s out for a run or over at a friend’s spending the night. But when she subtly suggests to Lucy every once in a while that she’s too old to be prancing around the house as she does, I have to bite my tongue in two to keep from pleading with her to keep her prudery to herself.

It still wouldn’t have amounted to anything had the new boyfriend not entered our lives: Brad. A nice enough kid, I think. He gets good grades, plays drums in the marching band, and likes The Beatles. Most dads get a bit jealous when their daughters really fall in love that first time, but all things considered, I didn’t have much to complain about with Brad.

They’d been going out about a month when it really started. They were close enough now to be holding hands, and I knew they made out some on the porch or on the living room couch when they thought no one was paying attention. Then one night they had decided to tag along with us to the movies – a chance for a date where I paid for everything. Everything was normal for most of the night. We had a bit eat beforehand, and the movie was reasonably action packed, though it was nothing that’s going to win an Oscar. Then on the way home, I happened to catch a movement in my rear view mirror. The two of them sat side by side, his arm around her, but no kissing or anything like that,nothing really exceptional. And in the dark I probably wouldn’t have seen anything, but in a passing car’s headlights, I happened to notice a suspicious lump in the neighborhood of boobs, the fingers moving ever so slowly inside her shirt.

My first thought was anger I suppose. But that was mixed with at least two other emotions that were just as strong. The first was pride for the guy. Good for him managing to get himself a little. It made me remember when I was his age, desperate to feel and see anything my date would let me, so loud was the call of my hormones. I guess knowing he was making a move, even with my daughter, made me feel somehow like I’d achieved something too. And too, something about the whole experience was just very sexy. A hot girl in the backseat getting felt up made me horny. As I said, whether or not it was my own daughter who was involved.

Those last feelings I tried to push away, out of my head, and I suppose I did a decent job of that at first. I tossed and turned all night in bed. A couple of times I thought my wife was going to send me to the couch I was so restless. I had no idea why I couldn’t sleep – I just seemed keyed up somehow, agitated.

The next day, bleary eyed, I had trouble concentrating on work. By lunch I was a wreck, but I thought I had put my finger on what was bothering me. I was worried about Lucy, afraid that she was getting in over her head, that she’d wind up letting this boy, her first boyfriend, take advantage of her. I was afraid that she’d wind up 16 and pregnant, completely ruin her future, throw away all the hard work she’d put in to her academic career over those 10 years she’d been in school.

But what can a dad do? One who’s not a hairy ape, chauvinist pig, anyway. If I confronted her, I’d look like an ass, throwing a fit over something innocent and showing no trust in my daughter’s good sense. If I confronted him I’d look equally foolish, jumping all over a situation that hadn’t really developed into anything and accusing him of something I couldn’t really prove. Anyway, he’d only tell Lucy, and I’d be back to square one. I might tell my wife, but she’d only worry, and again, there was more than a good chance she’d tell Lucy and tell her it had all started because of me. Or so I convinced myself.

No, the only option, I was sure, was to wait and see. But not without a little covert investigation and monitoring. I wasn’t going through another night like last night, that I was sure about. I’d find a way to keep tabs on how this relationship developed, and if things seemed to be moving too fast, I’d step in, fully justified, and put a stop to it.

Wouldn’t do any good to put it off, I thought to myself, and I made up my mind to swing by a shop a friend of mine kept in his back shed. As a sideline, he worked designing covert spying devices – you know, pinhole cameras, listening devices, heat-reading radar, that sort of thing. He had a number of clients in the private investigation business, and I knew he wouldn’t ask any questions. He’d probably assume Melinda was cheating and I was trying to catch her, but oh well. It turned out he had gadgets I hadn’t even known existed – an amazing array of ways to watch people. He and I talked for some time about the sort of setup I might need, and he sent me home with a trunk load of equipment and instructions for putting it all together.

I bribed Melinda and Lucy into going out for the night, offering them a credit card and suggesting they go visit the mall. They were too excited at my generosity to question my motives, and headed out after supper. They spent a fortune, but that was probably a good thing. It took me every bit of two hours of hard work to run wiring and set up computer monitoring programs. By the end I was sure they were going to show up and catch me with my pants down – so to speak. When it was all done, I had set things up so that I could see and hear what went on when Lucy had Brad over, even if they were “studying” in her room with the door closed. I set the computer to record as a test, and went to lie down on the couch, feeling very proud of myself for being the vigilant father.

I suppose what happened from there was inevitable, but it didn’t seem so to me at the time. After Melinda and Lucy had gone to bed, I remembered the camera in Lucy’s room was still one, and I snuck quietly down to my office to turn it off and erase tonight’s recording. No point in spying on my daughter if she was all on her own with no boyfriend to lead her astray. Still, I knew that she’d talked to Brad for about an hour after she’d gotten home tonight and before she’d gone to bed. I would be remiss if I didn’t make sure there was nothing untoward in the works.

I hadn’t thought of the fact that she’d also had a shower before she had gotten on the phone. When I had fast forwarded the video a bit, the first thing I saw was my cute blonde daughter entering the room with that pink towel that had always taunted me so much. What can I say? I’m only human, and a man to boot. Before I had a chance to press the stop button, she had tossed the towel on her bed and was standing at her bureau completely nude. I hadn’t seen her naked since she was three and needed me to adjust the hot water in the bath. I was stunned at what I saw now. The t-shirt and panties hadn’t even come close to revealing just how sexy she really was. Her body was lithe and toned, from the top of her head to her toes. Her tits were large but firm and barely moved. Her nipples were small, but protruding, and she had begun to grow hair between her legs, but it was still a pretty small bush.

She leaned close into the mirror for a moment to study something on her face, a blemish, a stray eyebrow, and as she stood on her tiptoes, she turned her ass just a bit towards me and I was newly stunned at the way the curve of her bottom moved so smoothly into the smooth hard plane of the back of her thigh. She tousled her hair a bit as she looked at her own face and I was solid gone. Oh, there was no question that she was still my little girl, and I’d never lay a hand on her. But that didn’t change the fact that she was virtually a work of art, and I almost felt like it would be wrong not to enjoy the sight.

I quickly saved that section of the video and then watched further as she picked out a pair of pink and blue-striped panties and a loose fitting black t-shirt. She spent a couple of minutes flipping through her calculus book, but it wasn’t long before I heard her call “OK,” to Melinda, indicating my wife had called upstairs to let her know Brad was on the phone. This was what I had ostensibly been waiting for all along, and I figured I should probably watch this bit. After all, if I was going to allow myself the pleasure of watching her naked, I should probably at least do what I’d set up all this equipment for in the first place – make sure she was being safe and not letting Brad get too far.

I needn’t have worried. Their conversation was an hours worth of “What did you think about that test today” and “No, I love you more.” Still, I couldn’t help thinking that her Lucy’s “in-love” face was entrancing, the way she grinned and blushed, even though no one was actually there to see her. And every now and then she’d flop over on her stomach and I had a nice view of the curve of her ass in those perfectly fitted panties.

When at last she hung up, I thought surely it would make sense for me to stop the video at this point and erase the rest. Nothing to see here, and I couldn’t justify just spying on her. Ok, I’d caught her preening in the mirror with nothing on, and no one could be blamed for looking, but just watching her to keep staring at her body with no one around to catch me seemed wrong. Still, I thought it would be worthwhile to fast forward the video a bit more just to make sure the recording was working properly.

I probably would even have stopped after ten minutes of footage or so, had it not been for what happened next. I mean, I’m pretty sure I was all set to hit stop and delete when she pulled the tee over her head. How many times can I say it? I’m a man, after all.

She’d been sitting in front of the computer for most of the ten minutes, and as they’d gone on, her stare had gotten more intense. I’d seen her click the mouse several times, but just before she’d taken off the shirt, she’d leaned back in her chair a bit.

I watched as her hands roved over her beautiful tits, cupping them, fingers moving up to pinch her nipples til they stood up. I wondered if perhaps she was having a bit of a cyber show for Brad. Again, I felt that strange combination of outrage and lust mixed with pride for Brad. After all, if I’d had the chance to see a few sets of boobs here and there when I was his age, I’d certainly have taken the opportunity. Man, would I have taken the opportunity. Still, I was the dad. I needed to protect my little girl. I pulled up another program I had running that kept tabs on Lucy’s computer screen to see what kind of show Brad was putting on. Catch him in the act and maybe I’d have enough to confront Lucy with. Slow this whole thing down.

It wasn’t Brad on the other end of the computer. Instead, on the screen was a story from a repository of erotica, I suppose a bit like this one. She wasn’t showing off for anyone; she was getting off all on her own.

The story was pretty tame, a lot of romantic blather about two teens who discover each other at summer camp one summer, fall in love, and begin exploring one another’s bodies. Seemed like a lot of nothing to me, but it was clearly having an effect on my little girl. They were only to the point of kissing passionately, a lot of description of tongues encircling one another, when Lucy reached both hands down, took the sides of her underwear in them and slid them to the floor. Absentmindedly she used one toe to kick them aside and her one hand went to her pussy as one stayed on the mouse, scrolling.

Her fingers teased through her mound of hair and then her middle finger slid down between her lips. She moved it up and down slowly, getting moisture from around the opening to her cunt and spreading it up and down the lips and over her clit. Then she used two fingers to rub her clit gently as she continued to read on.

She moved her left leg up then, resting her foot on the desk, keeping one foot on the floor but raising herself a bit by pushing up with her toe. She had spread herself out now, and her hand roved more freely over her pussy, her whole hand cupping herself, her palm grinding into her clit, and then her fingers sliding back up, spreading her lips wide until her finger settled again on her clit. I could see from the camera view the way her whole groin had begun to glisten with her own juices. She didn’t say much, but I did hear her breathing heavy as she continued to work herself.

She scrolled faster now, moving quickly through the romance and finally settling on a scene where the two lovers had decided on a whim to go skinny dipping. Once she had scrolled up enough so that their first touches and encounters were on the screen but so was the first part of the actual moments when the boy had tentatively begun to push himself into the girl’s willing body. Once she had it all up on the screen she let go the mouse and moved this hand to her pussy as well. The first hand, her left, stayed on her clit then, rubbing in circles, while with her right hand she took two fingers and slid them slowly into the opening of her pussy. She titled her head back then and closed her eyes so they were almost slits. The story had obviously been forgotten, and her mind was working overtime as her own hands continued to work. She moved her fingers out of her pussy at one point and put them to her lips, licking them tentatively, tasting herself shyly before she brought her hand back to her hole.

She was getting close to an orgasm now, I could see. Her toes, both those on the desk and those standing tip-toe on the floor were strained and pushing, her hips pushed out and her whole body slid down so that her ass was up obscenely in the air. Her fingers moved faster and faster in and out while her other hand pressed into her clit. I saw her give a little gasp, and then she was coming. She tried hard to keep herself quiet, only making little gasping noises and trying hard to control what she said. But she could not control her body nearly as well. She shivered with her orgasm, jamming her fingers deep into her own cunt and breathing in gulps. I watched as she remained like that, feeling every wave, for at least ten minutes. Then I watched as she bent down and picked up her underwear. I watched as she put her clothes back on, and I watched as she slipped under the covers,turned out the lights, and fell blissfully to sleep. Then I jerked off and came like I never had in my life. I had to fight myself to keep from yelling out as the sperm spurted out of the end of my cock.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/9grj9f/watching_my_daughter_mf_masturbation