Porn Star's Daughter Ch. 07

"Fortunately," she said, "we still have options." She began looking in drawers, cabinets, and shelves. I stood there, my hands sitting in front of my navel, looking dumbly at my reflection. My skinny, naked, flushed chest, bare and desperately wanting to be touched again, and yet wanting to be covered and safe. It took unbearable willpower to prevent myself from touching them.

She sighed, exasperated. "Men!" she complained. "They never have what you need when - ah, there it is!"

She reached in and grabbed a small pair of scissors. I flinched, not knowing what she was planning on doing with them.

She placed them on the counter, and then reached for her purse. When did she bring that in here? My lack of observation skills was disturbing.

Her purse wasn't big, but seemed to have all the contents of a fully-stocked warehouse. Finally, she found what she was looking for. "Aha!" she exclaimed, and pulled out a maxi-pad.

"Always, always have one of these on hand," she said, grinning. "Even if you're not on your cycle, you never know when it will come in handy."

She reached for the small scissors, which looked like they were for grooming facial hair. On a hamster.

She shrugged. "Make do with what you've got, right?" she said. "Put your bra back on," she said.

I did as I was told. With that, she started cutting the maxi pad in half. It was slow going, as the scissors struggled to get through the inner padding. Eventually, however, she managed to have two roughly equal pieces.

"Okay," she said, maneuvering back into place behind me. Reaching around, she pulled the cup away from my skin, and inserted one of the maxi pad halves. Then she did the same with the other. "Not exactly Victoria's Secret, but it will do."

"More like Redneck Secret," I muttered, and she giggled conspiratorially.

It felt... weird. Wrong, somehow. She started adjusting the pad so that it fit better inside the cup, which only made my nipples confused. They were being touched and stimulated, but not in the way they wanted.

Even so, it was working. I reached for my t-shirt, and put it on. It took a little longer than it should have, as she was so close to me, but it slid over my body and settled into place. Well, almost. She still had her hands on my hips.

But the trick worked. I was skinny enough, and the t-shirt was loose enough, that my nipples couldn't be seen at all. Well, of course it did - after all, I was simply wearing a padded bra. Literally. A maxi-padded bra. God, I'm such a dork.

I looked at her in the mirror. "Thank you," I said. I didn't know what else to say.

"Everything all right up there?" we heard my father call.

Tracy looked towards the door, as if he were right outside. "Everything's fine," she shouted back. "I'm coming right down!"

She put her hands on my shoulders and squeezed, smiling at me at the mirror. "See you downstairs," she said. Grabbing her purse, she left the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

I was still reeling from the encounter. What the fuck just happened?

Was she hitting on me? Or was this just some sort of normal kind of interaction with her? I had only just met her, so was she just being friendly? Trying to make a good impression on her man's daughter? Was it a generational thing? Was this something that she did with her friends when she was my age?

I was confused. My body was confused. All that attention to my nipples took maybe, oh, five minutes? During that time my sexual engine had started up, but was being kept at a low idle. Then again, it never quite shut off completely, now that I thought about it.

Taking a last look at myself in the mirror, I was impressed at Tracy's trick. The pads were awkwardly cut because of the crappy scissors, but you would never have known by the way she arranged them in the cups of my bra. Moreover, it had the added benefit of giving my chest just a little more curvature than it did previously. I actually liked the way it looked.

I rejoined Tracy and my dad, and once again the conversation seemed to flow naturally. As the afternoon wore on, they started drinking some wine and grew even more flirtatious with each other. I couldn't get the feeling of Tracy's hands on my chest out of my mind, though.

Tracy, however, couldn't keep her hands off my dad. It started with a bit of flirting and light touching, but she took every opportunity to get closer to him. She leaned against him whenever she laughed at his jokes, rubbing her breast against his upper arm. That soon grew to cuddling,

I felt confused. I was starting to feel like a third wheel, but still enjoyed their company. I wanted to be part of their flirtatious banter, but didn't know how. I looked out the window and saw that the early spring sun had already set, even though it wasn't even quite dinner time.

"How about a movie?" I suggested, out of the blue.

"Great idea!" my dad said, a little too enthusiastically. "I'll order us up a pizza."

He got up and went into the kitchen to find the take-out menu. Tracy immediately sidled over to me.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Fine," I said, a bit taken aback by the question.

To my surprise, she pulled the neckline away from my shirt, and peered inside. "The padding is looking good," she said, enthusiastically. "Oh, this one shifted."

With that, she reached into my shirt, and moved one of the pads. Her fingertips brushed against my nipple, and I was off to the races again. I was so shocked, I couldn't stop her or protest, but once my nipple was re-awakened, I only wanted her to do the other one.

"You forgot the other one," I said, trying to make a joke, and twisted my torso to put my other tit closer to her. She smiled, and reached in and adjusted the pad in the other cup. She did it a bit more slowly, however, and the smile on her face took on a completely different meaning.

"Okay, what do you think? Pepperoni?" he called.

"Sausage!" Tracy countered. She looked directly at me. "I think sausage, tonight."

I swallowed. My father didn't pick up on the innuendo, however. "Sausage it is," he said, dialing the phone.

At that moment, things kicked into such a high gear and everything was a blur. Tracy picked some French movie to watch, which of course meant lots of nudity and sex. The pizza came and we ate, they drank, and I sat on one side of the couch sipping my soda while they cuddled on the other side. Don't get me wrong - it wasn't that big of a couch.

Tracy curled up next to my dad, and he draped his arm around her shoulders. I tried watching the movie, but couldn't help myself. I kept sneaking peaks at what they were doing.

As the movie wore on, Tracy began becoming more brazen. Her hands, which had been lightly resting or tracing my father's thigh, began to get more assertive. I thought my father would stop her, as I was sitting right next to them and had a front-row seat. He must have thought that the dark room and the flickering light of the TV wasn't going to provide me with a good enough view, or surely he would have stopped it. Right? Right?

I watched with a mixture of fascination and embarrassment as my father's cock began to grow underneath his pants. I could have sworn I heard Tracy purr as her hand rested on top of it, not moving except for slight squeezes.

I was watching for too long, and I knew it. My eyes flicked upwards and I saw her looking straight at me. She had a strange look on her face, her smile colored with something else. I snapped my attention back to the main screen.

That didn't help, of course. The screen was filled with nothing short of soft-core porn, but because there were subtitles and everyone was speaking French, the orgy in front of me was "art."

It seemed unfair. Everyone was being touched, groped, massaged, molested... except for me. I wanted to be molested, too. Desperately. Even if it was just me, molesting myself.

Maybe that's what Tracy was doing, in a way. Maybe she was trying to include me? In some twisted, perverted way?

The movie abruptly ended, the orgy fading into credits. I had no idea what I had just watched, as I couldn't recite the plot or even anything important other than the writhing bodies at the end.

"Well," I said, faking a yawn. "That was educational." I hoped my joke would land, but it didn't.

"Yeah," my father agreed. "I'm not sure that any of the guys at work would have seen that."

Tracy sat up, grinning. "You both need to open your minds a bit," she chided. "Get out of your comfort zone."

She emphasized the last words, and looked from my dad to me. She had a friendly smile, and winked.

"I - I," I stuttered. "I think I need to get some sleep."

My father looked at his watch. "Really?" he asked, surprised. "Don't you turn into a pumpkin if you go to bed before 1 a.m.?"

"Yeah, well," I said. "I didn't sleep very well last night. Sitting here in the dark for two hours just made me sleepy."

"Okay, Shannon," my father said. "See you in the morning then."

Tracy stood up, and opened her arms for an embrace. I took it, once again inhaling her perfume. By this point, it had settled into her skin, and it had a more profound effect on me than I thought. Her breasts rested against my chest once more, and I had the crazy sensation that if I moved my head just a little, I could run my lips across her nipples through her shirt.

It was a brief hug, and when we separated I realized I wanted more. Even so, I took the opportunity to leave the two of them, as gracefully as I could.

Once I was in the room, though, I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself. I wasn't actually tired, and I had wanted to stay with them. I wanted to see what Tracy would do. Maybe I should have stayed through another movie. Would she have gone even further? I was kicking myself.

At the same time, I just had to touch myself. Watching Tracy, feeling her fingers across my nipples, seeing my dad's rock hard cock underneath her hand during the movie - these scenes flipped back across my mind. I reached up under my shirt to pull out the pads, and once again my nipples relished the feeling of the silk lace against them. I pinched and squeezed them, feeling an intense relief. Well, a relief that was quickly followed by a profound hunger for more. My jeans were too tight to slip my hand underneath the waistband, but I really wanted to touch myself.

A devious thought crossed my mind. Perhaps two could play that game. I could go back downstairs, the pads removed from my bra, and I could tease Tracy by showing them poking through my shirt. She obviously wanted to touch them, maybe even suck on them. My mind swooned at the thought.

I determined that I should go back downstairs, tell them that I changed my mind. I'd propose another French movie, let Tracy pick as she seemed to know the best ones. Then we'd see how the flirting would go.

I opened the door to my room, and then went to the top of the stairs. I was about to descend, and had even opened my mouth to tell them I had changed my mind, when I dropped to my knees and hid beneath the bannister wall.

Tracy had my father's cock out, and was sucking on it.

Fuck me, she doesn't waste any time.

My heart was pounding in my chest. This was the first time that I had ever seen anyone having sex in real life, outside of my own hands on my own body. In fact, the shock of the experience was so sudden that it didn't even register that I had just seen my father's cock - for real.

I suppose that anyone would feel embarrassed to catch people having sex if they weren't expecting it, perhaps even apologize for interrupting, and then hastily leave. Anyone would do that. It would be the normal thing to do, absolutely normal. And proper. And right. Let them keep their privacy. It was none of my concern. I should go back to my room and pretend that I never saw what I saw. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.

I put my hands on the floor to steady myself, find my balance, and started to raise myself up. Instead of turning to go back to my room, however, I peeked over the railing, and was mesmerized by the sight. They hadn't moved from the spot, but she had fished out his monster cock and was lovingly giving it all the attention it desperately needed with her mouth. She must have taken it out the moment they heard my bedroom door close.

So risky! I thought. I could have come back down, or come out of my room -

That's when it hit me. Tracy had counted on me coming out of the room. I bet she wanted me to watch!

It started to dawn on me that this was, in fact, Redd, not just Tracy. Redd was a performer. Redd knew how to seduce. I was watching Redd in action, and she'd been in action all day.

The star of the show, however, was dad's cock. I had only seen it on the video, or the giant simulacra that was now beckoning me from my room.

I don't know what I expected, actually. I thought maybe the dildo was exaggerated for effect, or for some "size queen" trophy. But no - my father's penis was, indeed, that big.

It's difficult to describe what was going through my mind. I had not expected that the first dick I would ever see would be that large, nor did I think that it would be my father's. I had always thought that the sight of a live, pulsing, throbbing cock (isn't that what you're supposed to call it? Isn't that the hyperbole that goes with an erect penis?) would strike me with fear and trepidation.

Perhaps it was because I had been watching the video for several days. Perhaps it was because I had already "experienced" the dildo with my hands and mouth. Perhaps I had grown familiar with it in my headspace for so long. Whatever it was, I only felt a sense of curiosity, twinged with admiration, appreciation, and - yes - even pride.

There was a strange sense of detachment, as well. For all of my life, my father was just... my father. He was just there (except when he wasn't), but there was never anything particularly interesting about him. That is, nothing interesting until this week. Even so, it's difficult to undo eighteen years of perception in just a single week.

I watched the scene in front of me, though, with some difficulty reconciling all of it. There was my father, yes, but then there was his penis. I was struggling trying to put together the idea that they were one-and-the-same. I had been handling the dildo just like one was supposed to - as a separate thing. But this wasn't a thing; this was all part of him as a person, as my dad. It was part of my Daddy, and my Daddy was part of it.

And it was beautiful. It looked exactly like the dildo (well, duh! it was made from him, after all!), but there were different shades of color of the flesh, more purples and reds and colors that I didn't even know the words for. The veins shifted and moved as she stroked him with her hands, the skin slid over the powerful muscular shape, something that the dildo couldn't do. There was a give to it, a sense of motion that I wasn't expecting. The dildo had shown me the shape and the size, but it hadn't - and couldn't - show me its life.

At that moment I wanted to record what I was watching. I wanted to capture it for posterity, to watch it whenever I wanted. Why hadn't anyone thought of this before? How could you not capture this mesmerizing piece of art in perpetuity?

It only took me a split second to realize my idiocy, and I actually hung my head in shame. Come on, Shannon, you're smarter than that! I shook the cobwebs out of my head and looked back over the railing.

While I had been marveling at my father's cock and acting like a moron, Tracy had been progressing. This wasn't like the porn movie, though, as it was clear that she was truly enjoying herself. She knew she was good at what she could do, and very obviously relished in the act, as well as the effect.

She wasn't much bigger than me, but she could fit more of his cock in her mouth than I had been able to do with the dildo. She needed both hands to hold it steady as she rested her head on his stomach and fed it beyond her lips. One hand reached down and cupped my father's balls, the other held the shaft in place.

She came up for air. "Oh god, I've been wanting to do this for days," she said catching her breath.

"I'm so glad," he said, stroking her hair away from her face, "You're so good at it!"

She looked up at him and made eye contact, but flicked her tongue over the tip. "It's easy to be good at something you love," she teased. "And I love this cock. I always have."

With that, she kissed the tip, and ran it against her cheek. She looked like she was holding onto either the most prized possession in the world, or the most delicious piece of meat she'd ever tasted, or both. This was a woman who appeared about as close to heaven as she could get.

Then, to my horror, she looked straight at me. I was mostly hidden by the bannister of the stairwell, but she could see the top of my head peering out. She looked straight at me, her eyes burning.

She knows!

I felt like she was compelling me to watch her. She seemed to settle against my father even more, opened her mouth, and the head started to slip into her mouth. I watched as it began to slide inside, her lips stretching to take in the beast. Her eyes never left mine, daring me to look away.

Slowly, she sank into it. The head disappeared, the flare sliding behind her lips, just like what happened to me in the shower. Then, though, she kept going. In that angle, I couldn't imagine how much more she could physically take, as I didn't think penises could bend in that direction.

Somehow, though, she managed to make it halfway down his massive dick with almost no effort whatsoever. I had to admit, despite the surreality of it all, I was impressed. Then again, she knew I would be. She was showing off for me, wanted me to see what she could do. She wanted me transfixed at her skill, wanted me to be in awe of her talent.

She was right on all counts.

My father scooted on the couch so that he could be more reclined, his head back and his eyes closed. He was obviously enjoying this, and I wondered what it felt like for him.

For me, I found myself with an incredible oral fixation. I wanted to take the dildo back into my mouth. Hell, at that moment, I would've taken his dick in my mouth. I felt a small competition with Tracy, and wanted to show her that I could do it too.

I felt the twinge of longing in the back of my throat, the desire to suck on something. I thought about going back and grabbing the dildo and returning, but I was afraid if I left then Tracy would stop and I would ruin the moment. Instinctively, I raised my fingers to my lips and began testing the tips with my tongue.

Tracy took one hand from my father's dick and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. Then another. With a tiny motion of her finger so that my father couldn't see, she pointed at her breast, caressed it, and then pointed subtilely at me.

There was a flash to the bathroom again, and I knew that I had been right about her. She knew my nipples were the key to my body, and she wanted me to play with them.

I nodded, and I could see her try to smile. It was difficult with a giant cock in her mouth, but I saw that she got my feedback loud and clear.

I reached for my nipples under my shirt, and squeezed. I wanted to moan, and it took tremendous powers of concentration to keep quiet. As it was, my breathing was heavy, and to me it sounded like the whole world could hear how labored it was. I didn't even realize that I had closed my eyes for a moment, but when I opened them I could see her eyes sparkle with deviousness.