I found out at eleven in the morning that my daughter, Zoe, was coming to live with me that afternoon.

It was also her fourteenth birthday.

I was not prepared for either event. My spare room was full of boxes and unused gym equipment, and my fridge contained leftovers, beer, and not much else. I rushed to the shops and bought a cake, some balloons, and whatever food I thought a teenager might like.

Zoe arrived with two suitcases and a backpack. Her bright red hair was tied back, and her freckled face looked tired.

“Happy birthday!” I said, holding up the cake. She gave me a small smile.

The next few weeks were difficult. I worked from home, and suddenly I had school forms, dinner plans, washing, and appointments to remember. My quiet bachelor lifestyle disappeared almost overnight.

I made mistakes. I burned meals, forgot things, and struggled to balance work with looking after her. Slowly, though, the spare room became Zoe’s room. Her books appeared on the table, and her hair products filled the bathroom.

I have not had much luck in my love life lately. A few dates here and there but nothing that stuck, and certainly no sexual release. I had fallen into a habit of seeing to those needs myself several times per week.

Now with this unexpected responsibility the time I have for dating is reduced even further. Not only that, but the amount of private time to sort out those needs is similarly impacted, and I am reduced to sneaking a disappointing tension relief session in when I think everyone is asleep. This was one such night.

The room was hot and I was tired already. The day had been long, but my need was great – even the sensation of the sheet over my naked body was enough to cause my hand to drift. Zoe had only gone to bed about 15 minutes ago, but I had to risk it. I was quiet, and it was starting to build nicely.

Then, a soft creak caused me to freeze. A glimpse of the slender silhouette at my door caused an immediate reflex to whip the sheet up over myself. I think she saw, she must have, and in any case, I was still visible – the thin sheet taut around the tip and bouncing rhythmically in time with my racing heart.

I was still frozen and unable to react to the situation as my lubrication made its presence known to Zoe, whose eyes had not left the bouncing weight under the sheet, darkening the fabric in the soft lamp light.

“I.. Uh...” the words came out raspy at first. “Baby. Can’t sleep?”

“No.” she shook her head sweetly.

Zoe took the interaction as permission to enter the room. She did a light skip to the far side of the bed, causing her chest to bounce enthusiastically under the tight cami top.

“Can I come in?” she sprung on top of the covers beside me before I had a chance to protest.

“Oh. Baby this isn’t the best time.”

I thought by now the throbbing would have subsided, but I was still twitching under the sheets as I looked for something heavier to cover myself with.

“Why? Are you naked under there?” Zoe tilted her head and idly lifted a corner.

My hand intercepted before I managed a reply, “No Zo. Well. Yes. Sometimes your dad likes to sleep naked.”

“That’s fine, me too sometimes.”

I instinctively glanced at her body, now noticing the perky outlines of her perfect small handfuls. Her cami top stopped at the top of her pelvis and laid her pale, freckled skin bare down to the low-cut bikini cut panties. I felt the throbbing return harder.

“But not tonight, “ Zoe exclaimed as she struck a pose, noticing me looking at her sleepwear “But if it gets any hotter I might have to!”

“Well, uh, OK. Goodnight sweetheart.”

I rolled to my side, away from Zoe, and closed my eyes hoping for this awkward interaction to end with sleep.

Three deep breaths and the throbbing was less intense. Relief, almost.

“Dad.”

“Yeah baby?”

“What were you doing when I walked in?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“It looked like you were masturbating.”

Where have I been? My daughter already knew about that.

“Well. To be honest, yes. I was. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise, I know everyone does it. I know mum did.”

Silence, and a lump in my throat.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to...” she seemed genuinely apologetic. “I just know that without mum any more you probably need to do it more. You can keep going if you need. Mum explained why people do it.”

“Thank you Zo, but it would be a little weird.”

“I can turn around.” She spun in the bed and faced the other way.

I hesitated, but seeing her tiny waist swell into a shapely pair of soft cheeks, barely covered by a pair of panties that were riding up. The throbbing started to hurt, I needed release.

“OK. I’ll try not to be too long.”

I removed the sheet and freed myself, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes as I began soft, long strokes.

Each time a jolt of pleasure shot through me I had an image flash in my mind. Sometimes it was Zoe’s face. Sometimes it was her breasts bouncing as she hopped around my bed. This time it was the sight of that little ass. Just one more glimpse could get me finished quicker.

I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw wasn’t the picture-perfect cheeks I had imagined, but the baby blues of my daughter, fixed firmly on what was in my hand.

“Oh uh. Zoe.” I stopped.

“Keep going. I want to watch.”

I knew it was a bad idea, but it made every stroke feel better. I kept going, now watching her as she watched me.

“I want to see how you do it, Dad.”

“Just like this.” The silence of the room was broken with the sound of both of our heavy breathing, as well as the occasional slick stroke.

“But you had your eyes closed before. Were you imagining things?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Like what?”

I was too horny to lie.

“Uhm. Boobs. Butts. Like when you skipped around the bed, they were bouncing so sweetly it made my thing hurt.”

Zoe made eye contact, fascinated, before letting her eyes cascade down my naked form and back to my manhood being worked.

I was getting close. Noises were escaping me involuntarily. Each stroke was causing a surge of pleasure, and anything would tip me over the edge.

I looked at Zoe and the unexpected flash hit me like a shock. She had yanked up her tank top allowing the perfect little B-cups to spill free. Pale as cream, soft, high, dotted with chocolate freckles from the gentle upper slopes down to the tight, pink nipples.

My eyes locked on those freckled, pale parcels of joy and I came instantly. Thick ropes erupted in pulse after pulse as my hips bucked, throwing Zoe onto her back. It kept coming. My stomach was covered, my legs, the crease between my thigh and pelvic region.

My most intense orgasm was by my own hand, in front of my teenage daughter.

“Thanks Dad, that was fun.”

I was still breathing too rapidly to reply, and just grunted as Zoe pulled her top down, slid off the bed, and skipped away to her room.

I felt exposed, almost caught, but the rush of being flashed by my own daughter made the orgasm twice as intense. I was helpless, euphoric, and finally felt empty of that animal need.

The next day Zoe was energetic and lively, and a bit of a handful. She was slow to dress for school. Slow to collect her lunch. Slow to get in the car. Her polite words hid a sarcasm in them, but I got a long hug.

When she got home, I was still working at my laptop.

“Afternoon, Zo.” I said without breaking eye contact with the screen.

“Love you dad.”

That wrenched my eyes from my work. It even brought a slight tear. I had not heard those words for years.

“Love you too sweetness.”

A sweet smile responded as she skipped over to empty her bag. We discussed dinner and homework, and it was wonderful.

One uneventful night would go past until I needed relief again. I had collected memories of Zoe throughout that time. Starting with the soft, tempting bounce with every skip as Zoe hurried out of the room. Even this afternoon her cheeks had jiggled lightly under her skirt, a pleased smile hinting that she was wearing her g-string.

The thoughts bounced around as the stroking began, but I had not learned my lesson. It was still hot and I still wanted to be open to the world, above the sheets. This time, I made sure Zoe’s eyes were closed in her room, though.

Regardless, I heard a soft knock at the bedroom door. She pushed it open without waiting, wearing nothing but a thin tank top that barely covered those perfectly freckled cupcakes, no knickers at all. A small, neat patch of light red hair sat right above her pussy. She stepped inside.

“Zoe?”

“Can I watch again?” she asked.

Zoe crawled onto the bed and stretched out on her stomach right in front of me, elbows propping her up, chin resting in her hands so she could stare straight at my cock. The slight distraction had made it lean to the side, but the soft bounce of her ass settling beside her as she got comfortable made me twitch to life, standing straight up and starting to pulse.

“OK honey.” My reply was breathy. My heart was racing.

Zoe’s eyes locked on the thick shaft and travelled up to take it all in before I even laid a hand on it. It was pointing to the roof and bobbing around vigorously under her gaze, and her mouth fell open just a little. “Fuck... how big is that thing? And that head...”

She tilted her head. “Yeah, I get comments about the tip, haha. Girls like it I guess.”

“Why would mum ever leave that? I don’t get it.”

I huffed a short laugh, beginning to stroke slowly. The comments didn’t bother me since the other night.

“She somehow just... hated me having sex. Always acted like it was a chore.”

She hummed, curious, then leaned forward.

“I think that’s stupid.”

“Me too.”

“Mum is just weird like that. She had a weird thing about keeping me a virgin too.”

“Oh?” I was distracted.

“Yeah. She never wanted me to have sex either. Didn’t want me to get pregnant at the age she did, she blamed you. I can see how you got her pregnant, that thing probably shot that huge load right in her cervix.”

“Oh. Um. I don’t think she ever gave me an orgasm that big, so it would probably have been a smaller load, haha.”

“I bet I can.”

Before I could process what she had said, Zoe slid her knees up under her tummy and leaned further forward. Her soft lips parted and she took as much of the swollen tip into her warm, young mouth as she could. Her tongue pressed firmly against the underside of the big head.

“Oh.. My.. Zo.. I...” my words caught.

She worked me slowly at first, tracing the tip with her lips and tongue. Soon she took one of the arms propping her up and used it to grab the base. The way her tiny hand barely wrapped around it made me thrust into her.

“Oh my God, Zoe, this is heaven.”

Zoe hummed in reply and took what she could of the tip while her freckled cheeks hollowed, eventually getting into a very effective rhythm and able to take the whole tip in while she worked back and forth with pursed lips. She never broke eye contact.

“I love you Zoe. I love you. I love you so much.” I was a slave to the euphoria in those moments.

I lasted as long as I could under that steady suction. When it finally hit, it was the biggest orgasm of my life. The pressure built all the way up and increased right at the tip, then I felt the thick load surge up my shaft in a slow, intense build. Cum flooded Zoe’s mouth, spilling out past her lips in messy pulses. Her eyes widened and she pulled back just enough that a few strong strands shot free and landed across her freckled cheeks. The rest kept leaking from the corners of her tiny mouth.

I groaned through every heavy pulse, clenching my own cheeks and twitching forwards as the last few drops drained out of me.

I lay there panting, still twitching a little as I endured some small aftershocks. That had been the hardest I had ever come, almost overwhelming.

“You...” I caught my breath. “Zoe. You seemed like you actually wanted that.”

I thought of how she looked at me the whole time. Not just enduring it. I felt a hollow ache as I thought of Zoe’s mother, but it washed away because Zoe was still here, watching me with those big, soft eyes.

Zoe quickly sat up while I recovered and wiped her mouth with the back of her dainty little hand, still looking a little dazed from what she had done.

“Your turn to watch, ” she said softly, almost shy.

She stretched out on her back beside me first, tank top still on, and started stroking her nipples through the thin fabric, brushing her splayed fingers over the hardened points. Her breathing picked up fast – she was clearly very aroused. After only a minute she shifted, crawling over me before I had fully recovered and straddling my chest. Her knees were either side of my ribs and she lowered herself so that pretty pastel-pink pussy was right in my face. The patch of wispy red hair sat neatly above it, glowing in the dim light, and her soft folds looked delicate and glistening. The smell was intoxicating.

Zoe reached down with one hand and started toughing herself with the lightest strokes. Delicately with a single finger at first. When she dipped inside, one finger slid in easily, a comfortable fit, but two fingers looked like an uncomfortable stretch as her little pink secret resisted the extra width.

Mostly she kept to the soft, almost random flickering. Sometimes two or three fingertips would dance lightly over her swollen little clit in quick, irregular circles and taps, never pressing hard. It was gentle and teasing and clearly exactly what she needed.

The sight and the warm, wonderful smell of her made me hard again almost immediately. I watched, cock twitching against the humid air, as her hips rocked into my chest. She came fast. A quiet, shaky gasp. Her thighs tensed around my chest and a soft trickle of her clear, sweet nectar snaked a path through her folds, over her milky white thighs, and onto my skin.

She stayed there a second longer, breathing hard, then climbed off. I was completely hard again. Zoe smiled. She leaned down, gave the large tip a single soft, lingering kiss goodbye, and whispered “Night” before slipping out of my room and off to bed.

The next day we were both glowing. No words were needed, but everything was done with cheer. One of her teachers even emailed me during the day to exclaim what a delight she had been in the classroom – eager to help everyone. I was proud for so many reasons.

Some nights later I knocked on Zoe’s door. She was curled up on her bed reading, tank top and shorts on this time. I stepped inside holding my already half-hardon and gave her a small grin.

“Thought I’d offer to put on another show if you want, ” I said. “You can suck it again if you like.”

She closed the book slowly, eyes dropping to the bulge in my boxer shorts.

“Okay.” She shuffled to the end of the bed and gripped my boxers at the waist. She yanked them down and shut her eyes expecting my manhood to bounce up and slap her. It did.

Zoe grabbed the tip and began to lightly knead it. She seemed curious but less enthusiastic. I started to grow fully hard regardless and she dutifully licked away the precum that began to erupt from the tip.

But then Zoe looked aside. She softly guided me to lay down on the bed.

“Zo? Not tonight? I’d hate it, but I could go back to my old hand relief methods...”

No reply. She finished laying me down.

“I do prefer an audience tho-“

She interrupted.

“Mum hates you having sex... and she was always terrified of me getting pregnant this young. Maybe this would get her back.”

I hesitated, the words landing heavy. Before I could answer she was already climbing onto my lap, pushing me down onto her bed. Those perky, speckled tits hovered right above me while she straddled my hips. I was mesmerised – their little bouncy movements and her soft, wide, pale hips hovering above me. I barely registered what was happening as my daughter lined up her soft pink entrance with my swollen purple tip.

Despite how tiny her teenage pussy was, she sank down and my entire girth disappeared inside her, the big head stretching her open until she took every inch. She revealed a single wince but otherwise took it all, eyes wide with pride and shock.

“If this cock is good enough to make me, it’s good enough to give me a baby.”

It turned passionate fast. She rode me hard, hips rolling, those small breasts bouncing lightly, freckles shifting and dancing with every movement putting me in a trance. Her soft thighs flexed around me.

Her small, curvy body writhed on top of me, the gentle weight of her settling perfectly against me. Every slow rise and fall let me feel the tight, young contours of her insides. The way her walls hugged and shaped themselves around me, pressing so deep I could map every soft ridge with each movement. I felt completely one with my baby girl, no space left between us. Never again would we be apart.

After only about five minutes we were both close. I felt the pressure building and tried to sit up, protesting, “Wait.. inside...”

Her words echoed in my head. I helped give her life, and now I could be giving her another life.

But she wrapped her arms around my head, pulling me forward so those soft tits pressed against my face, locking us in a tight straddle. I came hard, pulsing deep inside Zoe while she shuddered and finished right with me. I felt her tight walls fluttering around the large head.

She stayed seated in my lap, breathing against my hair. “That... it engulfed my cervix, ” she whispered, almost dreamy and giggling. “I’m sure I’m pregnant.” Then she sat back just enough to look at me. “I’m ovulating. I want to do it again tomorrow night... and film it. Show mum.”