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The introduction ceremony.

you just catch me? Did you look back in time to see me rubbing myself?

It's agony for me. When you cuddle next to me on the couch as you did last night. My arm goes around you to hold you and it should be innocent and sweet but I feel, as I did last night, your breast pushing into my arm and my mind wanders. I start thinking things no father should think about his baby girl. But I do and so I grab a blanket to throw over us not to keep you warm but to hide my erection that inevitably happens. I try to think of anything else to distract myself but it doesn't work.

And now you're wearing that dress again. The one you know is my favorite. I try not to stare as you run your hands down the front of the dress. I've got to sit down for this or I'll end up grabbing my cock again. Where's that blanket?

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You're staring. I can tell. Oh this is wrong. These thoughts need to get out of my head. You're my daddy. I can't feel this way about you. I can't. But I do. There goes the blanket. He thinks I don't know why he uses the blanket. He's been putting it over us when I cuddle with him on the couch. At first I thought he was being sweet but then last night. Oh god last night it slipped off his lap and I saw it. I saw the bulge. I got so wet. I wanted you. Why do I torture myself so? But it feels so good being close like that. Being protected. Being made to feel safe and good.

Okay, leave. Just walk out the door and go to school. Grab your backpack, head out the door, and go. But I don't want to. I want...I want...

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I want you. There. I said it. I want my daughter. It sounds awful but I can't stop these feelings. Why won't you leave? You're going to be late to class. Of course it's college so does it really matter? So stay. Stay and come over here. Stay and come over here and let me touch you. Stop. Stop. Stop. Margaret Thatcher Margaret Thatcher. Think of Margaret Thatcher. Thatch. I bet your thatch is red like the hair on your head. I bet it glistens in the sun. I bet...damn it.

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It's now or never. Grab my backpack and go to class or do the unthinkable.

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Leave. Please. I need you to leave so I can jerk off thinking of you.

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Okay. Pick up my backpack. Put my hand on the doorknob. I can't do it. I know what I want and I know how wrong it is and I want it anyway. I want. I want my. I want you. My father. I want to fuck my daddy.

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LEAVE.

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I don't like this outfit I tell you. I think I'm going to change I say and I pull my sweater over my head. Do I say the words? Do I dare? Come help me pick out something else. I can't believe I said it. Oh shit. You're up and oh my you're really up. I can clearly see the outline of your cock. I want it. I want my lips around it.

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You want my help picking out an outfit. Your sweater is off and you're heading to your room. If I stand up you'll see how hard I am and you'll know. I've got to remind you that you're a grown woman and can pick out your own clothes. You are all grown. You're a woman. You can make your own choices. Okay, here goes nothing. I'll put the blanket back on the...oh the hell with it. You're staring at my crotch. You see. You know. Shit. Maybe if I just stand here a minute my erection will die down.

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Where are you? Are you coming?

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I'm being summoned to your room. I can't go in there. I don't have control over myself yet. Maybe I'll just stand in the doorway and help from here. Your bra is off. I can't look at you. I've got to turn away but I can't. I don't want to.

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I drop my bra before you get to the room. My panties too. You're cute how you're leaning in the room while trying to hide your erection from me. My daddy is so cute. Your hand is warm as I take it and pull you into my room. Now what? I know what I want. I can see that you do too. Do I dare?

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Your hand is so small in mine.

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