The Rub/Chapter One
The Rub
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Chapter One
She lived two lanes over, Tracy that was, my daughter’s bezzie and you couldn’t pry the two apart with a stick. During the summer school holiday, they made so many trips between our houses they left a path a blind man could follow. Sadly, they were so strapped after the father left, her mum, Rebekah, couldn’t afford to hire a minder. I could sympathize with them because Jenny and me were in the same boat after my wife left and could barely manage finances for well over a year. Needless to say, that made for a long and cold winter that year. The mum worked long hours and was delighted that I would feed and keep and eye on her daughter so while she was gone.
We developed a rapport much like I had with with my daughter, because Tracy was reluctant to talk to her mum about sex. It was because of the way her mum had treated the subject in the past. However, she trusted me to always give her the plain scoop and truthful answers to any topic she wanted to broach. It was the same with my daughter; we discussed everything together.
Both of the girls, Jenny at ten and Tracy at eleven, were very much into boys and sex. Those topics were at the top of their list of things to discuss with their chums and each other. With their hormones beginning to rage they experienced things in their bodies that required an explanation and guidance on how to handle them. They were smart enough to know that they couldn’t trust their chums advice, so they turned to me. You see, they believed I was a font of knowledge when it came to sex. I was flattered with their trust and believed I was knowledgeable enough that I could discuss the subject in a somewhat authoritative manner, although I was still educating myself. However, when it came to the sexuality of developing girls, you could say the teacher soon became the pupil.
I wasn’t into the pub scene and couldn’t stand the slappers that frequented it. That didn’t mean my daughter didn’t accompany me for supper sometimes, but it was not the place I looked for skirt; in fact I didn’t. After my wife left, I was very picky about the women I befriended and would rather have a pull on the old pud than look for a woman just to bed her. It made for a rather uneventful and distinctly less dramatic lifestyle, but my daughter and I were satisfied with it. At least until her and her friend reached puberty and flipped the tables on me. I had trouble handling their physical development and preoccupation with sex. Then, my physical response became an issue that I succumbed to.
We dressed casually and were pretty lax about clothing around the house. Tracy was the same way and didn’t mind traipsing around with my daughter in nothing but knickers and vest. Initially, it had zero effect on me and my libido. After all, they were just children, weren’t they? But, things changed when their bodies began to mature and my interests became unmanageable.
My daughter was affectionate, but not overly so, and the same went for her friend. Then, it was like a switch flipped in them and they became very friendly and wanted more of my attention, to the point of distraction for me. The problem developed when I responded to it. I sloughed it off at first as a phase they were going through and would soon be over it, but soon learned I should have taken a much more rigid stance because I was attracted to them in a very irresponsible fashion.
“Daddy, why don’t you give me baths any more?” My daughter asked in her irresistible ‘my daddy gives me everything I want’, sugar coated little voice.
“What has gotten into you lately, young lady? You know you’re way too old for me to bathe you. A beautiful young lady like yourself is perfectly capable of bathing herself.” However, the offer was so attractive, I couldn’t mention the fact that I wanted to explore her naked, maturing body with my hands, but couldn’t because of what I feared would develop.
“But you always made baths fun. It’s no fun bathing myself,” she whined.
It went to show how weak I was, because my reserve cracked almost instantly because my decision displeased her. For some reason, I convinced myself that I could handle myself appropriately and that was the first big chink in my armour that led to my downfall. My sole intent was to give her one bath to please her. I was clueless and figured I would have the strength to step away in the future. However, her physical and sensual development turned out to be a lot more exciting than I had the ability to ignore.
Not only did my chest and throat tighten when I washed, no that’s not what I did, I used soap to caress and massage her new tittie bumps, tantalizingly firm bum and oh so plump and tender pussy. The tightening in pants became unbearable. After I dried her, I went to my room and wanked like I had never wanked before. Handling my daughter’s naked body made the orgasm I had nothing short of spectacular. However, my response frightened me but desire quickly overcame the initial fear. Now, I was determined to get my hands on her again and I justified it as a little fuel for a nice wank and nothing more. However, the fuel turned out to be petrol tossed on an open flame. The only inhibition I had now was the fact that she was my daughter and incest was not on the table… at least not at first.
“Daddy, what’s frigging?” My daughter asked while I tenderly scrubbed her pussy with soap.
“Where did you hear that?” I asked because it surprised me, especially so because of where my hands were at the time.
“I heard the girls talking about it in the showers today.”
“Frigging is another word for masturbation. It’s when you rub your private parts to make them feel good.”
“They said it’s really nice. Would you show me how?” She pleaded in that sweet little irresistible voice of hers.
“Fuck me,” I screamed in my head, “Why should I even bother to fight the temptation? Of course I wanted to show her.” My dick had already made his opinion known in my pants, but my higher self berated me, “Control, man, show some control.” So, I scrubbed her pussy even harder.
She held my shoulders and moaned, “That’s nice, daddy, right there… keep doing it like that.”
However unconsciously at first, my fingers focused on her clit and if I kept it up she would certainly know what frigging was. I know she couldn’t help the sighs and moans but they went straight to my prick and it was so cramped I had to adjust it and she noticed it right away.
“Did daddy go hard?” She breathlessly asked.
“I’m afraid I did. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for me to bathe you.”
“But, daddy, I like the way you bathe me. It makes me feel so good… especially where your fingers are down there.”
“I can tell, but the problem is, I like it too much and need to stop.” I knew for a fact that was the main reasons why fathers shouldn’t bathe their daughters.”
“Please don’t stop, daddy. It feels like something is going to happen.
Something was going to happen. My daughter was going to have an orgasm because I was frigging her. I didn’t answer but twirled my fingers even harder and faster around her thick clit until her knees became so weak they buckled and she held onto me for support
“Sweetheart, this is what frigging is,” I whispered and then really let my fingers fly.
With a little squeak she squeezed my shoulders while her thick pussy lips snapped against my fingertips. Then she began to slip and I carefully sat her down in the bath before I tore my trousers open and battered the side of the tub with semen.
She was dazed and quiet after our episode and as soon as I cleaned up my mess, I dried her and helped her dress for bed and then tucked her in. My mind was in turmoil for the rest of evening and then my sleep was restless.
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She went straight to her room after the bus left her off, with Tracy hot on her heals. They locked themselves in and were suspiciously quiet through supper and after Tracy went home, my daughter yawned and told me, “I’m so sleepy. Give me a bath early so I can go to bed.”
“That’s not a good idea, love,” I explained, “You need to start bathing yourself again like you were.”
“No, daddy,” she pleaded, “It was so good, you can’t stop now.”
“I should never have let it go that far, sweet cakes. After all, I am your father and father’s don’t frig their daughters.”
“Daddy,” she pulled me to her lips and gave me a little kiss that left me breathless. “It was the best and I want you to do it again.”
Still, I managed to resist and added, “I’ll bet Tracy can teach you a lot better than I can.” You could have heard a pin drop in the room. The sudden silence told me something was up between her and Tracy that I knew nothing about. “Listen, baby doll, my father and mother didn’t teach me how because it’s simply not proper. My chums taught me everything.”
“I thought you loved me, daddy, and I could ask you anything. Why are you being like this?” She whimpered in an effort to sway me.
“Love, you can ask me anything but there are things I just can’t do with you. I’m afraid I’ll lose control and take advantage of you and then we’ll both regret it.”
“You don’t have to be afraid, daddy. I know it made you hard and don’t mind if you do yourself after you bathe me, I really don’t.”
“Sugar, you’re not getting the whole picture. I’m your father and a man and we have desires that should not be inflicted on someone your age that could hurt you. Don’t you see?”
“You’re not taking advantage of me if you do something I ask you to do,” and she let it go at that and stormed out of the room.
I felt like a total and complete arse now because I should have nipped it in the bud before it ever started, much less allowed it to go as far it went. It would have been a lot easier if I hadn’t given her a taste of what it’s like to be a woman and I wouldn’t be compelled to go even further with her. So, I popped open a brown bottle and nursed it before I poured myself a large whisky. The house was so quiet the walls closed in on me and I needed to check on her so I could try to undo some of damage I had already done.
It was too late though. I found her asleep on top of the covers, so I tucked her under them, kissed her forehead and wished her pleasant dreams. However, my desires haunted me and made sleep impossible so I finally gave in and tossed one off while I thought about how tender her pussy had felt while I rubbed her to orgasm.
We never broached the subject for the remainder of the week and the girls locked themselves in my daughter’s room every afternoon and were silent through supper. I didn’t speak to my daughter again until Thursday, when she informed me, “Tracy’s mum is going away for the weekend so she’s sleeping over with us Friday and Saturday. Her mum will be back Sunday afternoon.”
It was not unusual for Tracy to sleep over with us and she did it a lot because of her mum’s schedule. It sounded like she was getting away from things for a little holiday and I didn’t think anything of it at the time. However, there was something deeper and more sinister afoot that I would be introduced to and I was helpless to stop it.
End Chapter One
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