It was 7:42 p.m., and I’d had a rough day at work. I was a manager at an engineering company. The pay put me in the top one percent, which I needed, especially now that I was raising my daughter alone. Her mother had passed away from breast cancer years ago.
Dating wasn’t exactly difficult as a high earner, and I told myself I needed the distraction, for me as much as for my nineteen-year-old daughter, Lily. My girlfriend, Johanna, was out with her sister that evening, so it would just be Lily and me. When I stepped out of the car and walked up to the door, I smelled something baking.
Cookies or muffins, if I was lucky, and Lily remembered to grease the tray this time. I opened the door and called out, “Lily, I’m home.”
“Dad! I have a surprise for you.”
The excitement in her voice made me smile. I dropped my bags by the door and was about to head into the kitchen.
“Dad! Close your eyes!”
I did, but tried to peek.
“Keep ‘em closed,” she called again.
Then I felt her soft hands taking mine, and she dragged me to the kitchen.
“Open!” I saw her face first, and her cheeks dusted with flour, and her brown hair loose and glossy.
Lily grinned like she was auditioning for a toothpaste ad. The lights were too bright, the countertops littered with eggshells and paper towels, but the table centerpiece was neat: three little pastries, perfectly browned and dolloped with what I now saw was pastry cream. It was the neatest thing in the room.
“Guess what I made?” Lily’s blue eyes were pure challenge, arms behind her back, hip cocked just enough to make me notice she was wearing gym shorts three inches below legal and a tank top so thin it was more like underwear, which her natural C-cup breasts strained slightly against.
I ran a hand over my face. “Uh, profiteroles? Cream puffs?”
She rolled her eyes. “Creampies.”
I snorted and almost choked. “Excuse me?”
She giggled, watching my face like a hunter with a rabbit. “Creampies. That’s what you called them, right? I heard you on the phone yesterday.” She was totally innocent, I realized, then died a little inside as I remembered the phone call she overheard: my new girlfriend teasing me about loving creampies, explicitly not dessert-related.
I gave my best dad-glare, but it was weak. “Lily, I, where did you find the recipe?”
“Internet,” she shrugged, smooth lips pursed. “They looked really hard. I had to try three times to get the filling to set.” She slid the plate toward me and plopped onto the stool across, tucking one foot under her thigh. “Taste.”
She was beaming. I couldn’t say no. The pastry was surprisingly good. Not too sweet, soft and a little salty from her amateur hands. The cream was rich and thick, exactly the kind of thing I would have devoured if I weren’t a health freak.
“Wow,” I said, unable to stop myself. “This is delicious.”
Her smile widened, a literal glow-up, and she reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “I just thought you deserved something nice. You always look so tired after work.”
I wanted to say I was fine, that I didn’t need cheering up, that I was a grown man with a mortgage and a job title that made people at dinner parties yawn, but she was not wrong. Today was a massacre of meetings, layoffs, spreadsheets and the kind of executive decisions that made you question your soul. If Lily hadn’t been there, I would have probably microwaved soup and called it fine.
“I mean it,” she said, squeezing again. “I know you work too much.”
I let my thumb stroke over her knuckles, a simple, automatic dad thing, but the motion stuck for a second. Her hands were delicate, her nails short and bare. “I’m proud of you,” I said, mouth half full. “Seriously. You nailed it. Hell, these are better than most bakeries.”
She beamed, her cheeks pinkening. She was attractive at nineteen, at the peak of her beauty, youthful and fresh faced, curvy in all the right places. “I’m glad you liked it.”
We talked about various topics, college, work, her past boyfriends and so on. I already felt relieved and not so stressed. But then I could see the question waiting on her tongue. “Hey, um, can I ask you something kind of … weird?”
“Sure. Fire away.”
She tugged at a strand of her brown hair, rolling it between two fingers. “Why did you say, on the phone, that creampie makes you less stressed?”
Oh, fuck.
I bought time by eating another pastry, then chasing it with a sip of tap water. “Well, that’s, um—” I coughed, then settled. “It’s a … slang thing, I guess. Not about dessert.”
She blinked, poker-faced. “Then what is it about?”
I debated lying, but we were past that, weren’t we? Lily was legally an adult. She had had boyfriends. She had had the sex talk, twice, once from her stepmom and once from me, so it would feel wrong to lie to her. I cleared my throat. “It’s when a guy finishes inside … inside a woman … during sex. You know when the cum trickles out, it looks like a creampie.”
She digested this, her expression unreadable. “Oh,” she said finally, then laughed a little. “That makes sense. I thought you just … really liked dessert.”
I chuckled. “Well, I love both.”
She sipped her water, eyes twinkling. “So, you’re really into that? Like, no condom?”
“Look, Lily, you don’t need to know about your dad’s, uh, preferences.”
She didn’t flinch. “But is it that different? Like, does it feel better?”
I couldn’t believe I was in this conversation. “I mean, it’s … yeah, warmer, more intimate and riskier.”
She leaned forward, arms on the table, eyes so clear and intent I started to sweat. “I’ve never done that,” she said quietly. “Not even once. Every guy I dated was super paranoid, and I always took my pill, but they insisted on wearing rubbers.” She sipped her water again, then looked at her glass, voice getting smaller. “I kinda want to try it. I just want to know what it’s like.”
“Lily … you know it’s not safe, right? And, uh, a lot of stuff can happen.”
She met my eyes, dead serious. “That’s what I mean. It’s so forbidden. I want to know if it’s really as good as you say.”
A second passed, maybe three. Then I tried to switch tracks. “So, how’s school?”
She laughed. “Don’t do that. You always do that.”
“What?”
“Change the subject when I’m trying to talk about real stuff … and besides, we already talked about school.” She crossed her arms right under her chest, making the cleavage a bit deeper.
I groaned. “Lily, come on. I’m your father. I shouldn’t even be having this conversation with you.”
She held my gaze, then stood. She came to my side of the table and sat on my lap, her hip fitting into the angle of my leg, head on my shoulder.
“You can talk to me about anything, right?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
I could smell the vanilla on her skin, the sugar in her hair and beneath that something raw and alive. “Yeah, but—”
She wiggled a little. “Okay, so tell me. Does it feel better to … finish inside a woman?”
“It does.”
“Do you think we could try?” she asked innocently.
I looked at her, wondering if she was joking, but I knew my daughter. She wasn’t.
“It’s not appropriate,” I said.
“But you want to,” she said. “You said it feels better, and I’ve never tried it.”
“But you’re my daughter. We can’t do this.”
“No one has to find out.”
My cock twitched, and she grinned against my neck, eyes darting down and back up. “Looks like it’s not just the baking, huh?”
I closed my eyes, tried to think of anything but her warmth, her weight, the way her leg pressed up against my cock and the slow, careful way she started to rock. The pressure was insane. My body was a lit fuse. When did she become so coquettish, and where had she learned to seduce a man like that? Time passed way too quickly.
“This is a line we don’t cross,” I said, barely audible.
She was quiet for a second, then pressed her lips to my ear. “I’m not a kid anymore. I can decide what I want. Please?”
She was trembling. And I realized she was scared, and excited, and more alive than I had seen her since she lost her mom.
“And you’re on the pill, right?”
She bit her lower lip and nodded eagerly. “Yes.”
“Alright, fine.”
We went to her bedroom together, hand in hand, and her hand never left mine. She had a queen-sized bed, pink furniture and everything was nice, tidy and feminine. Her bedroom smelled musky and sweet from her favorite perfume. Looking at me shyly, she stripped her tank top. This was the first time I’d seen her C-cup breasts fully nude, and they were perky and topped with thick, rosy nipples that were slightly glossy. There was a beauty mark just below her left clavicle, and I wanted to kiss it, mark it and claim it as mine.
She shimmied out of her shorts and panties at once, leaving her bare and blushing, but never looking away. Her thighs were smooth, and there was a narrow patch of hair above her pussy, trimmed and neat. The pussy itself was light pinkish, just the perfect pussy color, and it was so crisp, symmetric and puffy. It must’ve been one of the most beautiful pussies I’d ever seen. I ached just seeing her, and she knew it.
She tugged at my shirt, impatient. “Your turn.”
I stripped, clumsy and nervous as a teenager, my cock aching and already leaking. I was bigger than average, and she saw it, eyes going wide for a second before her lips curved into a grin.
“Will it hurt?”
“Not if you’re wet enough,” I said.
She settled back, legs splayed. “Then make me wet enough.”
I dropped to my knees, face buried between her thighs, inhaling her scent: fresh, sweet and pure girl with an undercurrent of hunger. I pressed my tongue against my daughter’s fresh pussy and dragged it all the way up to her clit. Then I kissed my way to the bottom and repeated the process. I licked her slowly, then faster, tongue circling her clit until she shivered and squealed, hips rocking up to meet my mouth. Her hands tangled in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make my scalp burn.
“Oh,” she moaned.
The taste of her flooded my tongue, sweet and musky and so much better than any bakery. I came off her sex with a kiss and then I lined up the head of my cock slick with her beautiful, wet pussy. When I found her hole, I looked into her pretty, blue eyes and slowly eased myself inside her. She gasped, eyes wide, mouth in a perfect O as I slid in. She was tight, tighter than I expected, and I had to grit my teeth not to explode right there.
“Oh, fuck,” she whispered. “It’s so much.”
“Am I hurting you?”
She shook her head, biting her lip. “No, just… keep going. I want a creampie.”
“I’ll give you one.”
I pushed deeper, inch by inch, watching her face the whole time. Her pussy was tight, hot and slick, gripping me like a fist wrapped in velvet. Every ridge of me dragged against her inner walls, and she whimpered with each slow advance, her thighs trembling around my hips. When I finally bottomed out, hips flush against hers, she let out a long, shaky breath, fingers digging into my shoulders.
“God, Daddy … you’re so deep.”
I held still for a moment, letting her adjust, feeling her pulse around me. She was soaked, dripping down my balls, the wet heat of her coating every inch. I started fucking her, slow, deliberate strokes, pulling out almost all the way before sliding back in. The friction was maddening, her pussy clinging to me, reluctant to let go. She moaned louder with each thrust, hips rolling up to meet me, chasing the fullness.
I picked up speed, hips snapping harder and the bed creaking under us. Her breasts bounced with every impact, nipples hard and pink, begging for attention.
“Harder,” she moaned. “Fuck me harder. I want to feel you come inside me.”
Those words snapped something in me. I pounded into her, relentless, the wet slap of our bodies filling the room. Her pussy fluttered around me, clenching with every thrust and milking me toward the edge. The sight of her, flushed cheeks, wide blue eyes, mouth open in a constant moan, was almost too much. She was mine in that moment, and the taboo of it only made it hotter.
“I’m close,” I told her, voice strained.
“Don’t pull out,” she begged, heels digging into my ass. “Please, give me your creampie.”
I lost it. One final deep thrust and I buried myself to the hilt, cock pulsing hard as I came. Thick, hot spurts flooded her pussy, painting her walls, spilling deep inside her. I groaned against her neck, hips jerking with each wave, emptying everything I had into her. She gasped at the warmth, her own body shuddering as she clenched around me, riding out her orgasm, pussy spasming and milking every last drop.
When the pulses finally slowed, I stayed inside her, softening slowly, feeling the slick heat of our combined release. I eased out carefully, and a thick trickle of cum immediately leaked from her swollen pussy, white and creamy, sliding down her slit and pooling on the sheets beneath her ass. She reached down, fingers dipping into the mess, smearing it over her clit as she shivered.
“Wow, that looks beautiful and messy at the same time,” she said with a giggle.
“You like it?”
“I love it,” she said with a warm smile. “It feels so filling and warm.”
I collapsed beside her, watching my cum drip from her perfect, well-fucked pussy.
She kissed my forehead. “Thank you, Daddy.”
I was wrecked with guilt, but more than that, I was happy for the first time in years. “This stays between you and me,” I told her firmly.
She just smiled, cupping my cheek. “I promise. Do you think we can do it again sometime?”
“Do you promise to bake me another creampie?”
She giggled. “We have a deal,” she said, pressing her lips to mine.
I laughed, then groaned, knowing I had crossed a line that could never uncross. But hell, maybe that was what family was for.
The end.
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