Skip to content This is part 2 of Daddy’s Little Nurse Series. If you want to read part 1, click here: My Daughter Gave Me a Handjob.
*****
It was Saturday, and I woke up feeling more rested than I had in months. My wrist throbbed dully, but the bone-deep exhaustion from yesterday had lifted. For a moment, I just lay there, enjoying the peaceful morning. But then the memories flooded back.
My daughter, her hands and the way she’d touched me with such innocent care and love. The relief that had washed over me afterward. I had never felt anything as intense as that.
But Jesus Christ, what kind of father was I?
I sat up carefully, adjusting my sling with my good hand. The smell of bacon and pancakes drifted through the house, and my stomach rumbled despite the guilt churning inside me.
When I made it to the kitchen, Maddie was standing at the stove, her back to me. She wore tiny cotton shorts and a loose tank top, her hair loose and golden. One hand flipped pancakes while the other adjusted the heat.
“Morning,” I said.
She turned, spatula in hand, and her whole face lit up. “Morning, Dad!” Her smile was as bright and uncomplicated as ever, no trace of shame or awkwardness. “How’s the wrist feeling? Did you sleep okay?”
“Better than I expected,” I admitted. “Thanks to the, uh, medication.”
Our eyes met briefly before she looked away, a faint blush touching her cheeks. “Good, that’s good.” She set a plate of pancakes and bacon on the table. “I made your favorite. The way mom used to.”
I sat down. “Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”
She poured me a glass of juice, then let her fingers rest briefly on my good hand. “Of course, Dad. That’s what family does.”
After breakfast, I tried to do the dishes, awkwardly holding plates with my left hand, but Maddie shooed me away. “Go sit down,” she said. “I’ve got this.”
“I’m not completely useless,” I said playfully, but she just rolled her eyes.
“Nobody said you were. But you need to rest that wrist if you want it to heal properly.”
“Alright, my little nurse.” I wandered into the living room, determined to at least straighten up the magazines and books that had accumulated on the coffee table. As I reached for a medical journal, the sling shifted, sending a jolt of pain up my arm.
“What happened?” Maddie asked me.
“Just a little pain,” I said.
She quickly finished the dishes and appeared beside me, her hands immediately going to the sling straps. “You’re too tight here. No wonder it’s hurting.”
She adjusted the fabric. I could feel the warmth radiating from her body, see the concentration in her eyes as she worked. Her tongue peeked out slightly between her lips, a habit she’d had since childhood.
“There,” she said, smoothing the strap one last time. Her hand lingered on my shoulder, thumb tracing small circles through my t-shirt. “Better?”
It was. But now I had a different problem. The gentle pressure of her touch, the closeness of her body, was having an effect I desperately tried to ignore. I shifted away, pretending to check the adjustment myself.
“Much better. Thanks, sweetheart.”
Throughout the morning, Maddie was everywhere. She brought me water without being asked, helped me put on a clean shirt when I struggled with the buttons, and insisted I sit while she vacuumed. Every time she passed by, some part of her would brush against me, a hand on my arm, her shoulder against mine, and her hip bumping my side as she reached for something. She was a sweetheart, a dream daughter.
*****
By noon, I was a mess of conflicting emotions: gratitude for her care, shame at my physical responses, and a deep, unsettling warmth that spread through me whenever she was near.
“Time for some proper care,” she said after lunch, carrying a small basin of water and some towels. “Sit on the couch. We need to ice that wrist and then apply heat.”
I did as I was told, watching as she carefully removed the bandage.
“It’s still pretty swollen,” she said, gently turning my wrist to examine it. “But the bruising looks better than yesterday.”
She sat beside me on the couch, our legs pressed together as she applied the ice pack. The cold was a welcome distraction from the heat of her thigh against mine.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said after a while. “I really love taking care of you like this.”
I glanced at her. “You’re a natural caregiver. You’ll make an amazing nurse.”
She shook her head. “It’s different with you. With patients, it’s about doing a job well. With you, it’s…” She paused, searching for words. “It’s about making you feel better and making you happy. It makes me feel useful in a way nothing else does.”
The sincerity in her voice warmed my heart. “You’ve always taken care of me, even when you were little. Remember when I had that flu, and you kept bringing me juice boxes?”
She laughed. “You drank about fifteen of them to make me happy.”
“I’d do anything to make you happy,” I said without thinking.
Our eyes met, and something passed between us. “Last night,” I said carefully, “it really did help. Better than any painkiller.”
Her cheeks flushed pink, but her eyes held mine. “Really?”
“Really.”
A small, pleased smile curved her lips. “Good … that’s good.”
After dinner, a beef stew she’d prepared while also helping me with everything else, we settled on the couch to watch a movie.
Maddie curled up against my good side, her head resting on my shoulder, one arm draped across my stomach. “Is this okay?” she asked. “I’m not hurting your arm?”
“It’s fine,” I assured her, though nothing about this situation felt fine. Her body was soft and warm against mine, her hair tickling my neck. The scent of her shampoo filled my nose with each breath.
Halfway through the movie, she shifted, her tank top riding up to expose a strip of smooth skin at her waist. I tried not to look, tried to focus on the screen, but my body betrayed me once again. My breathing changed, becoming shallower, and I felt the familiar tightening in my groin.
Maddie glanced up at me, then down, her eyes widening slightly when she noticed the bulge under my sweatpants. Instead of pulling away, she simply settled back against me, her hand now resting on my thigh, dangerously close to where I was hardening.
We finished the movie in tense silence, neither acknowledging what was happening, but both acutely aware of it.
*****
Later that night, I was propped up in bed, trying to read a book one-handed, when there was a knock at my door.
“Come in,” I said, setting the book aside.
Maddie slipped in, dressed in tiny sleep shorts and a thin tank top that clearly showed she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, still damp from her shower.
“I wanted to check your wrist before bed,” she said, coming to sit on the edge of the mattress. “See if the swelling’s gone down.”
“You’re such a sweetheart,” I said.
Beaming, she unwrapped the bandage carefully, her fingers cool against my heated skin. As she leaned forward to inspect the injury, I noticed the way her top gaped, offering a glimpse of the gentle curves beneath.
“It looks better,” she murmured, gently rotating my wrist. “Still tender?”
“A bit,” I admitted.
She glanced up, then froze, her eyes dropping to where the sheet had tented over my groin. I hadn’t even realized I was hard again until I saw the direction of her gaze.
“You’re tense again, Daddy,” she said, using the childhood name she rarely used anymore. “I can help you relax like last night. But maybe … more this time? So you can really sleep deeply and heal.”
“Maddie, we shouldn’t …”
“It’s just to help you,” she insisted, her hand already resting on my thigh. “I want to take care of you. Please let me.”
“And what do you mean by more?”
“I thought maybe I could suck you.”
God help me, I nodded. “Alright, fine, but only if you want to.”
“I do.” She smiled, relieved and eager, and slowly pulled the sheet down. My cock strained against my pajama bottoms, a damp spot already forming where the head pressed against the fabric.
Maddie tugged the waistband down carefully, freeing me. In the dim lamplight, my cock looked even larger, veins prominent along the thick shaft, the head already glistening with pre-cum.
“You’re so big,” she whispered, almost reverently. “I might not be able to fully take it in.”
“Do your best,” I said with a smile.
She knelt between my legs on the bed and leaned forward. Instead of using her hands like last night, she pressed her lips to the side of my shaft in a kiss. I sucked in a sharp breath, my good hand gripping the sheets.
She looked up at me through her lashes, then extended her tongue to lick a drop of pre-cum from the tip. “Hmm,” she hummed, surprised. “Salty.”
Before I could respond, she took the head into her mouth, her lips forming a perfect O around me. The wet heat was overwhelming, so different from her hands the night before.
“Oh god,” I said, my head falling back against the pillows.
She began to bob her head, taking me deeper with each bob of her head, her small hands wrapped around what wouldn’t fit. Then she came off with a pop. “Anywhere I should focus?”
“The tip,” I told her.
While she looked me in the eyes, her tongue swirled around the sensitive head, tracing the ridge underneath, exploring every inch she could reach.
I couldn’t help myself, my good hand found its way to her golden hair, not pushing, just guiding, feeling the silky strands between my fingers as she sucked and moaned.
She pulled off for a moment, breathing hard, strings of saliva connecting her lips to my cock. “Is this good?” she asked, her voice husky. “Am I doing it right?”
“Yes,” I said. “So good, baby girl.”
She smiled and took me back into her mouth, moaning around my length as she tried to stick it deeper down her throat.
“Hmm, Daddy,” she murmured, coming up for air again, her hand still stroking steadily. “You taste good.”
“I’m glad,” was all I could say before she plunged me into her youthful mouth again. I hadn’t experienced a bj in years, and she was doing such a good job, even if it was her first time. While she sucked me, I just loved to see her youthful heart-shaped face and her big blue eyes. There were so much warmth and intimacy that I reached the climax so much quicker, my toes already curling and my cock twitching in her mouth.
“Your cock is stirring,” she said, coming off me while stroking me with her hand.
“Because you’re about to make daddy come soon.”
“Should I swallow?” she asked innocently.
“If you want to.”
“I do,” she said and aimed the tip at her lips and gobbled it down. She made so many obscene sucking sounds, and droplets trickled down my shaft. I kept thrusting my hips, sending my cock deeper down her throat, so she gagged.
“Maddie,” I tried to warn her, “I’m going to—”
She just looked up at me, those big blue eyes full of trust and determination, and took me deeper than before. The head of my cock hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed around it.
That was all it took. With a groan that came from somewhere deep inside me, I came, thick pulses shooting down her throat. She swallowed quickly, eyes watering slightly, but never pulled away, taking everything I gave her.
When the last spasm subsided, she finally pulled her head back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and red.
“Was that okay?” she asked, suddenly shy again.
I reached for her, pulling her up to lie beside me. “Better than okay,” I whispered. “You were perfect.”
She beamed at my praise, then slipped off the bed. “Wait here.”
I watched her pad to the bathroom, my body still tingling from the intensity of my orgasm. A minute later, she returned with a warm, damp washcloth in her hands. The care in her eyes warmed my heart.
“Let me clean you up,” she murmured, sitting beside me on the bed.
With gentle, tender strokes, she wiped away the traces of our intimacy. When she finished, she leaned down and placed the softest kiss on the tip of my now-sensitive cock, making me shiver. Then she pulled my pajama bottoms back up, covering me.
She crawled up beside me and pressed her lips to my forehead, her breath warm against my skin. “Now you can sleep, Daddy. I love you.”
I reached out with my good arm and pulled her into a gentle hug, careful not to jostle my injured wrist. “Thank you,” I whispered into her hair, breathing in her scent. “For everything.”
“You’ll be better in no time,” she said.
“I know I will, sweetheart. Now go get some sleep.”
She gave me a last warm hug, holding onto me a little before breaking it and heading to her bedroom.
The end.
If you’d like to support my writing, you can purchase full-length incest novels with deeper storytelling and stronger character development here: Incest Books.
Or if you want to read similar father daughter stories, click here: Father Daughter Stories.