I made her pancakes (her favorite) and she had a hard time eating them. I told her not to force herself if she was still not feeling well and she thanked me for understanding. We tried to ‘figure out what we ate that was bad’ and ultimately decided the chip dip must have been bad (even though I knew better). I went to the fridge, removed the dip, and threw it away anyway. By mid morning, she was feeling some-what better and asked to use the washer and dryer. I told her to go and relax and I’d take care of her laundry. She kissed me on the cheek and thanked me. She plopped down in front of the TV and turned it on before taking a nap within a few minutes.
I set about doing her laundry and, while doing a load of her darks, found the top she used as part of her cat costume. I just looked at it for a few seconds and remembered how perfect her breasts were. And that was not the opinion of a biased father; I didn’t know I was looking at my daughter’s breasts when I first thought that! She had a large assortment of sexy and racy panties. I was pretty used to seeing them; she started wearing sexy underwear before she even started high school. Even then it didn’t faze me to see the white secretions in her panties; it was just part of growing up. But now it seemed…different. I found one pair that looked like they had been worn recently—probably last night. The goo in the crotch was still wet and shinny. I looked to make sure she wasn’t around and gave them a quick sniff test. The fragrance was all too familiar: the panties smelled just like she did when I went down on her.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was licking the goo out of her panties before tossing them in the washer. I rolled her vaginal secretions around in my mouth, savoring the taste once more; reliving the night I unknowingly ate my daughter’s virgin pussy. What was wrong with me? This was Erin I was thinking about—my daughter—my own flesh and blood! But I couldn’t help myself. After tasting the sweet goo for a few minutes, I swallowed it down, unwilling or able to spit it out. I pushed the thoughts out of my head and finished her laundry, folding each item as I always do for her. By the time she woke up from her nap, her laundry was done. She felt much better after her nap and we talked about nothing in particular for a few hours before she had to go back to her friend’s place to get ready for class the next day. Before leaving, she promised to be back by Friday and I told her to make sure to bring her laundry; I’d gladly do it for her.
The next Friday, Erin called to say she didn’t think it was a good idea for her to come home that weekend. I asked her why not and she said that she was still sick and throwing up. And, whatever she had was contagious because now her friend had it, too. She said she was surprised that I got over it so quickly. I told her she should come home anyway and I would make an appointment for her to go see our doctor. She reluctantly agreed and I made the call. Erin was home by mid afternoon and I drove her to her appointment. I knew she was pregnant now, but couldn’t bring the subject up without raising alarms in her head or possibly offending her (“Is that what you think of me, Daddy?”). We sat in silence in the office waiting room until the nurse called her name. Out of habit, I stood up to go in, too, but she stopped me and reminded me that ‘she was a big girl now’. I just nodded, smiled and sat back down.
After a while, she came back out with a prescription to have some ‘routine blood work’ done. We went over to the lab and they drew blood and took ‘other samples’. Of course, I knew what the lab work was for: they were testing to see if she was pregnant. The results came back a few days later and she went in to get the report. She was given another prescription, this one to be filled at the pharmacy: a prenatal vitamin. When Erin came home the following Friday, she sat me down because, as she said, she had to tell me something important. She took a while to build up the courage to say it, but finally she confessed what I already knew; she was pregnant. I kept calm (mostly because I knew it was coming) and told her that it was going to be ok. She started to cry and I told her not to be upset and that I would help her any way I could. I asked her how far along she was and without hesitation she said she conceived on October 31st. I asked her how she could be so sure and she said it was the one and only time that she’d ever had sex. That was the final nail in the coffin: Erin, my daughter, was carrying my baby.
I asked her about her friend, pretending to wonder how she could have been sick because of her, and she replied, “She’s pregnant, too. As soon as I found out, we went and got her a pregnancy tester; it was positive.” Keeping it light and with a joking tone I asked, “Geez—what are you guys doing—hosting sex parties in her house?” Erin rolled her eyes and said, “No! We are not hosting any sex parties…” I knew that was true: they weren’t the hostesses. She just didn’t add that they didn’t ATTEND any sex parties. I told her she had my support in whatever she decided to do and she said without hesitation, “I’m keeping it—no question! I already love this baby and it’s nothing more than a blob right now.” I was glad to hear that and then asked about her friend. Erin said, “She might be a bit slutty, but she is really conservative at the same time; a bit of an enigma. She is very anti-abortion and is going to keep her baby, too. She just doesn’t know what to do about school, yet.” I told her to offer my baby sitting services to her. I figured it was the least I could do for my own child!
Erin thanked me on behalf of her friend and said it would mean a lot to her. We talked for a while and began going through all of the things we needed to think about to prepare for what was going to happen in a little over 8 months from now. Before long, we had discussed the highlights and she was ready to take her mind off of things. As per our usual, she wanted to watch a movie. And she surprised me yet again when she wanted to watch the original Spiderman movie for the 100th time. The movie was playing and I was having trouble keeping my thoughts focused again, but not as bad as last week. Then I realized I never asked her a question that most dads would have asked first. I turned to her and said, “So, you never told me who the father is…” She just looked over at me and said, “Spiderman is the father, Dad…” I thought that was hilarious but couldn’t let it show too much. I said, “Very funny… Wait: you do know who the father is, don’t you?” Erin looked at me and said, “Of course I know who the father is. Why would you ask me that?” I figured she wanted to keep the details of her sex life private and was perhaps embarrassed that she didn’t know who the man in the Spiderman costume was. I explained my questioning by saying, “Oh, no reason, really. It’s just that you said earlier that it was October 31st—Halloween—and then you seemed to not want to answer who the father was when you said ‘Spiderman’, and I thought maybe it was a guy in a costume that you never got a look at. I’m not judging you: I just know college can be a crazy time and we do things that we normally wouldn’t do in another setting—that’s all…”
Before I even finished what I was saying, I was kicking myself for broaching the subject. I feared I said too much and was worried that she might figure it out. She looked at me a few moments and seemed to understand and acknowledge what I was talking about. Finally she said, “That’s not too far from what happened, actually.” I said, “Then you don’t know who the father is?” She said, “Well, I have a pretty good idea of who he is…I think. But I’m not really sure.” I said, “I guess it would be hard to ask him if he was the guy you were with at that party a few weeks ago…that would be awkward if he said ‘no’. She said that was exactly why she hadn’t said anything to him yet. The conversation dwindled down from there and we went back to watching the movie. But I could sense that something was on Erin’s mind. Call it a father’s intuition; or maybe just paranoia.
After the movie finished, Erin went out to her car for a minute and came back in with a brown bag. She asked me, “If I ask you to do something for me, would you promise to do it?” I said, “Of course, Honey; I’d do anything for you.” She nodded and asked, “Will you put this on for me—just for a minute?” I took the bag from her and looked inside. I was a bit confused at what I saw. Inside the bag was, of all things, a Spiderman costume. I looked at her in confusion and asked her why. She told me to pull it out and I did. It wasn’t until I pulled the costume out that I realized it wasn’t just ANY Spiderman costume: it was MY Spiderman costume! The proof was in the Velcro fly I had sewn into it and my daughter’s virginal blood stains around the crotch. I distinctly recalled throwing it in the garbage and couldn’t figure out how she ended up with it. I was looking at the costume in my hands and she began to explain, “I came home the next morning and you were out running errands, I guess. I was just going about my business when I went to throw something away and I saw this under some trash in the can. When I pulled it out, I recognized it immediately. I panicked and took it with me back to my friend’s—I didn’t tell her, though.”
I looked up at her and my eyes were starting to get blurry. I said, “Erin, you have to believe me: I had no idea it was you! I didn’t know until I saw you with your tat…” She stopped me in my tracks and said she knew that and not to worry; she was ‘ok’ with it. I told her that I was sorry for not saying anything, but I wanted to save her from knowing the truth about what happened; afraid she would never get over it. She said to stop worrying and that she was fine about the entire incident. She said she was a little freaked out at first, but then realized that neither of us knew who the other was and we were just enjoying some random sex. We just happened to beat all odds and ended up having sex with each other. I asked her if she was really ok with what happened and she nodded her head in a casual, matter-of-fact way.
I asked if she was sure she wanted to keep the baby, knowing I was the father and she said, “This is our baby! Of course I’m sure! Daddy, you are the best Dad in the world, and I know you will love our baby as much as you love me.” I knew she was right and couldn’t argue against her. I folded the costume back up and was putting it back in the bag when she asked, “What are you doing?” I said, “I’m putting it back in the bag…” She responded saying, “I see that. But why?” I looked at her blankly not understanding her question. She said, “I believe you made a promise to me. You said you would do something for me if I asked and I asked you to put the suit on…” Erin’s tone had changed to a teasing and seductive tone. I said, “Erin, are you asking me what it sounds like you are asking me?” She said, “Come on Dad: don’t become a prude on me now. Think about it: you have seen every part of me in recent times; you sucked on every bit of my vagina—which was amazing, by the way—we’ve already had sex—twice—and because of a defective batch of condoms, I’m pregnant with your child. And unless I’m crazy, you enjoyed sex with me as much as I enjoyed it with you. Hell: you’ve been walking around with a ‘semi’ since you saw my tattoo! So I know you are thinking about me! Well, I’ve been thinking about you. No one else knows about what happened and it would stay between us. And it’s not like you can get me MORE pregnant!”
She made some good points, but what she was suggesting made me nervous. I said, “That is all true. But what you are talking about is different than what happened between us at the party. When we had sex, we didn’t know we were having sex with each other. But now you are suggesting that we knowingly and willingly have sex and I think that would just make things awkward between us.” She responded by saying, “I’ve known it was you since the next morning and I don’t feel awkward around you. You have known the truth for two weeks and you haven’t been acting awkward; you still love me the same as you always have. I’m not suggesting we start dating, fall in love and try to pass ourselves off as husband and wife or something; it’s just sex—really good sex—but just sex.”
I still wasn’t sure about what she was offering; the taboo of it was so overwhelming. Erin said, “I’ll tell you what, I want to show you something and if you are still resistant, then I’ll accept it and we’ll move on; I won’t bring it up again. OK?” I had no idea what she had in mind, but was nervous about what the ‘something’ could be. I reluctantly agreed to her proposal. She went to her room and was gone for a few minutes. When she came back into the living room, she was wearing her cat costume; heels, mask, no bra or panties—just like at the party. The memories flooded back stronger than ever and my cock betrayed me. Erin walked right up to me and I realized one reason why it never dawned on me that night that the cat girl could be my daughter: she was at least three or four inches taller with those heels on. Erin’s tits were less than an inch from my chest and she only had to turn her head up slightly to look at me. I could feel her body heat radiating on me. My boner was pushing my pants out in attempt to get at her and I was speechless. Erin spoke first: “Like I said; it’s just sex between a man and a woman.” She then looked down at my bulging pants and said, “I can see you want to, so stop over-thinking it and just let go. I reached up and put my hands on her shoulders. But then she took my hands and moved them, placing them on her breasts and held them there. I could feel her nipples pressing into my palms and her breasts felt magnificent. I asked her if she was really sure about this and she took one of my hands and pushed it down her body and inside her yoga pants.
She said, “Feel me—does it feel like I’m sure?” Her still hairless vagina was hot to the touch and she was already wet. No doubt about it, she was sure. My finger already knew where her clit was hiding and went to play. My other hand began tentatively massaging her breast and she unzipped my pants. She found the fly in my boxers and pulled my hard cock out through it. Then she hooked a thumb in each side of the hem line of her pants and pushed them down to mid thigh level. I helped her the rest of the way with her pants, sliding them down her perfectly shaped legs while she stood up-right.