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Four weeks after her sixteenth birthday, Leah McCluskey lost her virginity. Her father Martin knew this because he himself had seen it with his own eyes. No pussy that tight had ever been penetrated before. He was sure of it.The day the big event happened, he was late for work. Returning to his pokey two-bedroom flat (a slice of a new-build complex by the Thames) on account of having forgotten his work laptop, he paced along the pristine laminate floorboards, searching for it. That’s when he heard the moans: high-pitched, long and strangely familiar in a way he couldn’t quite place. His daughter’s bedroom. Bouncing up and down, her thighs parted across the body of a male stranger, he watched his sweet little Leah take her first cock, spying through the thin crack of her open bedroom door, her sixth-form uniform half-on, ragged and damp with sweat.The sight of his naked teenage daughter; her young, swollen, bare breasts bouncing through her open blouse while her tight, pristine pussy was being stuffed with a thick, cream-covered cock, did not disgust him as much as he had imagined such a sight might have. Perhaps the realisation that his young kitten had been becoming a woman before his very eyes over the past few months; her skirts becoming much shorter, her blouse buttons less guarded, and her underwear becoming racier, lacier and altogether thinner, had prepared him subconsciously for the fact that she would soon be having sex and that one day, he might see or hear it. It was a small flat after all. Standing by her MDF door, Martin stood in hypnotic awe, watching the thick cock of the stranger izmit escort slam into her supple body. Looking down, he realised he’d automatically begun rubbing at his crotch, keen to free his sex-starved cock from his Y-fronts, but resisted, enjoying the torment, shame, and arousal.He played spectator for the full fifteen minutes, ignoring the buzzing of his work mobile phone in his blazer pocket, his paternal eyes filled with perverse pride at seeing a fertile, sticky, white creampie, leaking from his daughter’s equally fertile pussy, before pacing out of the flat, closing the front door with the sleight of a burglar, and driving off to the farthest corner of the local Lidl car park. Beneath the veil of an overhanging oak tree, he spent the rest of the afternoon edging himself, his mind clouded with the fresh memory of his teenage daughter becoming a woman.***Over the next three months, Martin’s addiction to the sight of his daughter being fucked, grew and grew like a malevolent plant, creeping upward within a humid jungle’s canopy. Every Monday, he’d leave at 08:45 for work as usual.“I’m off out love,” he’d sing to his daughter, standing by the door in his knackered suit bought from C&A fifteen years ago, shoeless holding his briefcase. “I’ll see you later. Have a good day.”“You too, daddy,” Leah would shout back from her room, applying her makeup and drying her hair, preparing herself for a pre-sixth form quickie— one she thought her father was none the wiser about.After opening and shutting the front door for the sound effect alone, quick as a flash he’d dash across to his yahya kaptan escort bedroom on tip-toes, hiding in his walk-in closet, until at 09:00 on the dot, the intercom would sound. Letting her friend in, Leah would sash over to the front door, make out with him and take him back to her room. She was putty in his hands when he entered her room. Martin would then do what he did best— creep over to her door and, without making a sound, watch his weekly dose of the most taboo, yet arousing pornographic performance he’d ever seen.“I’ve been touching myself all week, thinking about you,” Leah would often say, unclipping her bra, while the boy tugged at it. “Feel my pussy. It’s so soaked, and sticky just thinking about you. Go on— touch it. She’s ready for you.”Martin loved watching his daughter get fingered. It was a curious thing— perhaps the most innocent part of his otherwise deranged obsession with his own daughter, but even so, he was never quite able to work out why. Watching two fingers slide in and out of her tiny teenage slit, with its fleshy, long lips and engorged vulva, did something to him. To be exact, it filled his holey underpants with pre-cum. Doggy, reverse cowgirl, missionary— Martin enjoyed watching Leah being fucked in all positions, often impressed with how well her tiny frame could take such hard poundings from this much older man. They never used condoms to his knowledge, and although as a father he was distraught, as a pervert he was all the more pleased at the prospect of being able to raid her laundry hamper later that gebze escort night. He’d marvel at the sticky white streak in her gusset— the remnants of a weeklong load, dripping out his daughter’s cunt and into her black thong during a day of fractions, continents and To Kill a Mockingbird. Yet one day, abruptly, her weekly meets with this sex friend came to an abrupt end, with him finding himself hiding in his wardrobe for a noisy fuck that did not come.Weeks later, he tried to weave it, organically into a conversation. The two had just driven to pick up a takeaway pizza on a cold, rainy, Thursday night.“So, everything alright on the boyfriend front then,” he asked smoothly, his heart rattling in his chest like a BB in a can. “Not that you have to tell me. There might be nothing to tell.”Leah wrinkled her face. “Boys… ugh. They’re literally all the same, aren’t they?”“Fantastic, I know.”Leah laughed. “ More like bastards, users, and heartbreakers, daddy. That’s how it goes.”“Surely there must be some good un’s. Even just for a bit of fun.” Merging with the slip-road, Martin did his best to focus. He didn’t want to push his luck.“Fun?” asked Leah, curiously. “How’d you mean?”“Well… I don’t need to tell you, you’re a big girl now. And… well what I’m saying is, just don’t be like me and your mum, is all.”Leah turned to him, grimacing curiously. “Are you talking about… sex, daddy?”Martin laughed to himself. “I believe I am. Well— what I’m saying is. Be free— have experiences. Your teen years are for making memories and—”Leah interrupted him, “Daddy, I don’t need sex. I need pizza, and a good snuggle on the sofa.”Martin changed gears. “Now that is something I can offer.” The two shared a glance of affection, Martin trying his best not to eye his daughter’s exposed midriff, the shadow of her erect nipples conspicuous beneath the light of the LED light from the lamppost above.