Breakfast with Daddy

"But you're the one who wanted her to teach me. And she's been telling me that I need to get rid of the baggy clothes and wear sexy stuff. She says that guys like more revealing clothes, and now you're saying she's wrong?"

"N-no, I guess not. I can't deny it; guys do like that look, but..."

"Then do you like it, Daddy?" I interrupted.

"That's not the issue. I'm your father, and there still have to be some limits."

"That's not what you told Nola," I countered.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you remember, Daddy? You said you wanted her to teach me—how did you put it—'anything and everything about being a sensual seductive woman,' and you didn't say anything about limits."

"Yeah but I didn't mean...." He paused. "You shouldn't have been eavesdropping on our conversation. Besides, when I said that...I mean, I guess I just wasn't expecting...Well, this is just such a surprise."

"I was hoping it would to be. During the past month, Nola has been teaching me about becoming a woman; how to dress and practice my feminine charms. Isn't that what you wanted, Daddy?"

"I guess, but I didn't realize...."

"You don't understand, Daddy," I interrupted. "Having Nola as my mentor has been such a wonderful gift; I just wanted to share with you, showing you the results of what you started. Is that wrong—wanting to let you in on what I've learned?"

"I-I...Well, I suppose not, as long as it's appropriate."

"Come on, Daddy! What's that supposed to mean? When you told me to trust Nola; I thought that meant anything she taught me was appropriate. Is there something wrong with showing you your new daughter—kind of a coming out? After all, itwas your idea."

"Yeah, I guess it was, but...I mean, that's sweet, and I don't mean to rain on your parade, sweetie, but...."

"Never mind, Daddy. This surprise has obviously turned out to be a bomb." I lamented in a whiny tone. "But I don't get it. You always like to hear about my education and learning."

"Yeah, but not withthis education; it's kind of personal."

"I thought that was the whole idea of family; we're supposed to be able to be open with things like this. Mom said I could share anything with you; sh-she wanted us to b-be so close." My voice was trembling, as I turned on the tears, batting my eyes while looking up at him. "But we're not that close are we, Daddy—not like Mom wanted?"

"Please don't cry, sweetheart. I do want you to be able to be open and talk to me."

"Do you really?" I challenged. "You don't seem to want me sharing what I've learned from Nola, like how she taught me to dress."

"I didn't say that. It's just that...."

"You're embarrassed, Daddy," I interrupted, stating the obvious.

"Wh-why would I be embarrassed," He responded evasively,

"I'm not sure, but you obviously are. You can't even look at me right now," I challenged.

"I guess it's just different and...Well, it takes some getting used to." He shook his head, glancing up at me. "I mean, it's pretty revealing, and I've never seen you like this."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to shock you." (Ok, so I did a little; but not too much.) "It probably feels weird to realize I've grown up. I guessit must be pretty long, and seeing me like this must make ithard." I was hoping he was hard and deliberately emphasized the last word, thinking he'd get my pun while still allowing plausible deniability. "Does seeing me like this make itharder, Daddy?"

"Lisa!" He objected. "That's ridiculous and totally out of line, I might add. I won't have you talking that way!"

"What way?" I feigned ignorance.

"I think you know very well what I'm talking about, young lady, and you have no business making that suggestive comment about anyone—let alone your own father!"

"What comment? I was just saying that it's probably been a long lonely process, single parenting me from a little girl into a woman; it must be hard seeing me in this outfit that shows I'm no longer a little girl."

"Oh God! I-I thought you meant...Never mind."

"No, come on; what did you think I was....?" I paused, feigning shock as I continued. "Oh God! You thoughtlong and hard meant...Daddy! I would never talk about...I mean, this is embarrassing! Where is your mind anyway?"

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I was thinking...I just assumed that...Forget it; I'm sorry."

"It's ok, Daddy," I assured. "I know it getshard." I smirked at the repeat pun, enjoying his discomfort. "I've always been your little girl, but now as an adult I have to make my own choices. You've cared for me during my teens, but you can't protect me all the time; I'm sure it's hard to let go."

"Baby, you have no idea; not until you've had your own kids." As he looked at me, I could see his eyes glistening with tears. His obvious vulnerability made me melt, reminding me of Mom telling me how needy he was and of the closeness she wanted for us.

"Don't worry, Daddy; just because you can't always protect me doesn't mean we can't be close. Mom always said we could be a lot closer, and now I think I know what she meant."

"What?" he asked in a guarded tone.

"I think she was looking forward to a time like this, when I became an adult and saw myself as a woman. Now that you won't have to parent me so much, we can relate more like adults and with less of the parent-child barriers. That way we can get closer, like you and Mom. That's what she said she wanted. Don't you want that for us too?"

"I-I suppose so."

"Somehow, you don't sound too enthused; I guess change is always hard. But no matter what, Daddy, I'll always be your little girl," I cooed, winking at him as I cocked my hip to one side.

"I know, I know." He sounded wistful. "Let's eat."

"Ok, but since you did all the cooking, I get to serve you. Come on over and sit down," I suggested, pulling out the chair for him. "Now we don't want to get any syrup on that nice shirt," I cautioned, as I patted his chest.

He seldom used a napkin, but I wanted to include all the elements in my seduction. Having already given him visual and auditory stimulation, it was time to add touch. I slipped the napkin over the top button and smoothed it in place, feeling his broad chest in the process. "Wow Daddy! You've been hiding something from me, haven't you?"

"No; I don't think so."

"Come on, Daddy; obviously you're getting a nice, firm, hard...."

"Lisa!" he interrupted, blanching as he leaned over. Suddenly I realized he was once again jumping to conclusions, attempting to conceal what he thought I was about to reference.This is going to be fun, I thought, deciding it was a chance to get the upper hand and play with him some.

"What? What's got you so upset?"

"Just stop it, honey; stop pretending you didn't say what I just heard, telling me I'm getting a hard...I can't even say...you know."

"Body, Daddy; I was talking about you getting a firm, hardbody, for God's sake! So much for paying you a compliment. Geez, Daddy! You've got a one track mind."

"I-I'm sorry. I just thought...Well, seeing you in that outfit I assumed...."

"You think that just because I put on a sexy outfit, I'm automatically thinking that—about my own father?!"

"No; it's just that...Well, I-I...Just forget it." Daddy looked down, shaking his head in embarrassment.

"This is nuts! Nola was right about guys; all they can think about is what's between their legs! I just never thought that would include my own father!"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that. Please forgive me, honey."

"Ok, Daddy. But this is twice you've assumed I was thinking about whether you have a hard-on."

"Lisa!"

"Please, Daddy. We both know what you mean; we may as well be honest," I insisted. "But why? Why do you keep thinking that's on my mind?"

"I-I can't really say."

"Can't or won't? Is seeing me like this doing something to you?"

"Of course not! I can't believe that you'd even suggest such a thing."

"Right. I'm not the one who keeps bringing it up. Whoops; maybe I am," I chuckled. "I really didn't mean that as a pun, but given your mindset, I guess you'd take 'bringing it up' as referring to your...."

"Sit on it, Lisa!" Dad admonished.

"Now who's being suggestive," I challenged.

"Certainly not me," he shot back.

"No? You really want me tosit on it?" I laughed. "Sounds rather suggestive to me."

"Dear God, Lisa!" he objected. "That is totally inappropriate."

"Really? That's one of the positions Nola taught me about, and she said guys really like it."

"All right; that's enough!"

"You're the one who keeps bringing it...I mean, taking about—I may as well just say it—your cock."

"Oh my God! Lisa Laura! How can you talk that way?"

"What? You'd rather I say penis?"

"I'd rather you not comment on this at all." He shook his head in dismay.

"Well, I'm not the one who brought it up. And what's wrong with sayingcock?" I smirked as I saw him wince. "Nola says 'penis' is for anatomy class or middle school sex ed. But now that I'm a woman, she says we call it your cock. What's wrong with that? Don't you still want her teaching me?"

"Of course. She's a close friend, and I thought you needed a feminine perspective on things. It's just that referring to...Well, I don't think this whole learning thing should include me."

"Why not?" I countered. "It was your idea in the first place."

"Yeah, but I guess I wasn't thinking that...I-I mean, I wanted her to help, but just never thought it would involve us."

"But it's bound to involve us if I'm going to be changing into a woman."

"I'm not sure wh-what you mean." Daddy sounded tentative. "Most of the stuff you're learning is about relating with other guys, not your father."

"But if I'm changing into a woman, it's bound to involve you, when you have to see me in a different way."

"I suppose," he responded hesitantly. "I just wasn't thinking it would involve you showing me like this."

"But isn't this how women dress to show off?"

"Yes, but..."

"Didn't you like it when Mommy dressed in sexy clothes?" I pushed.

"Of course, honey. But you're my daughter, and it feels like this is more than just showing me what you've learned; maybe more about how it could impact us."

"Us? I don't see how it involves us—unless you're thinking....Dear God! Did you think I wanted to show you my new look so I could...You think I'm trying to seduce you?" I asked, feigning incredulity.

"Of course not. That's ridiculous! Can't we just drop this and eat?"

"Sounds like a great idea," I agreed, not wanting to push things too far at this point. "But getting back to what I meant to say, youhave been working out some, haven't you?"

"Oh, yeah; I've gotten back into some weight training."

"I can tell, Daddy," I cooed admiringly, sliding my hands on his chest once again. As I felt him shudder, I lingered, moving from his firm pecs to his broad shoulders and down the contours of his biceps. "Maybe it's just my small hands, but your arms feel really big," I cooed, gently squeezing as I felt him flex in response. "I know you can't always take care of me, but is it ok if I still think of you as my big strong Daddy who will protect me?"

"You know I always will, pumpkin," he replied.

"Thank you, Daddy." I leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, making sure my breast grazed his shoulder. "Even though I'm grown up, I love being your pumpkin. Now how about some pancakes?"

I felt his eyes on me while I served up our pancakes and sausage. As I dished up his food from the opposite side of the table, I leaned down, dishing up a provocative view of my tits. "Is that enough, Daddy?" I asked.

"Aaahh...Yeah, th-that's fine."

"Oh...forgot the syrup," I observed, moving back to the counter. Knowing it was in the bottom cupboard, I decided this was another chance to add to the visual impact.

Slowly I bent at the waste, keeping my legs straight to present the best view of my derrière. I shifted from side to side, pretending to search while putting a strain on those thin spandex shorts that barely contained my ass. Feeling the cool sensation of the air conditioner, I realized the material was riding higher, leaving the lower part of my ass peeking through. I shivered—not from the cool air, but from the exciting taboo of exposing my ass to my own father.

"Whereis that anyway?" I mumbled, continuing the show.

"It sh-should be right th-there," Daddy stammered breathlessly. Feeling his eyes glued to my ass, I glanced back between my legs, observing his wide-eyed gaping stare.

"Can you see it?" I asked, referring to my ass!

"Y-yeah...I mean, n-no," he stammered

"Oh, here it is," I chuckled. "Right in front of me."

Once again I leaned over the table, daggling my voluptuous tits in front of his face. I briefly glanced up, grinning to see him staring down my cleavage. I was determined to prolong the experience. Carefully, I poured a small stream to coat each pancake with thin strings of syrup. In the process of coating, I rapidly moved my arm, knowing I was animating my tits, as I felt them swinging back and forth for his viewing pleasure.

"There, do these look tasty?" I questioned with a double-entendre.

"Y-yeah, that's fine, honey," he mumbled. "Thanks."

While dishing out my own food, I considered my next move. The sausage looked tempting as I pictured how I might show Daddy the oral techniques Nola had taught me. But that seemed too obvious. I tried to think of a more subtle approach as we continued to devour our pancakes in awkward silence.

Then it hit me. They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but that wasn't my concern. I was quite sure that I already had Daddy's heart; I was looking to appeal to a different organ. To do so, I—not food—needed to command his attention. Toward that end, I deliberately heavily doused my remaining pancakes in syrup, counting on gravity to do the rest. Sure enough, with the next few bites, the inevitable happened. As it dripped down, I was able to ensure that the sticky syrup landed in strategic places.

"Oh dear!" I exclaimed. "Look what I mess I've made." I glanced down to see drops of golden syrup that had landed on the bare inner slope and as well as the thin cloth over my left breast.

Just as my right hand moved to clean up, Daddy chimed in. "And you were worried about me making a mess."

"That's the problem with this top—no place to tuck in the napkin."

"That's n-not the only problem with your t-top." He laughed nervously. But his chuckle quickly ended when he observed me touch my breast, obviously mesmerized by my seductive moves. I was equally captivated, watching him watch me as my finger pressed against the supple mound, slowing sweeping upward. His eyes remained glued to that finger as I moved to my mouth, drawing it across my lips before gradually sucking it down. I smiled, savoring the sweetness as I provocatively licked up and down.

"Ummm," I moaned, "tastes delicious. Don't you justlove to suck on tasty treats?"

"Uhuh," he mumbled, continuing to follow my moves as I repeatedly wiped my breast and sucked off my finger—pushing against the top as the dark pigment of the ringed tip was occasionally 'accidentally' exposed.

But the show still wasn't over; there were those stains on my top—the main spot on the material over my nub. After dipping my napkin in the glass of water, I dobbed over the thin spandex. Feeling his gaze, I shuddered—Daddy watching his daughter rubbing her nipple! I had forgotten how thin the top was and, as the tip began to show through, I worried that things might be moving too fast.

"M-maybe y-you need to ch-change," Daddy stammered, looking up at me as he blushed.

"Oh I-I...." I paused, glancing down to share his view. Suddenly, I caught my breath, observing the effect of the cool water. The temperature combined with my touch had stimulated the contractile tissue. In addition, watching Daddy watching me—thinking of the response I might be eliciting in him—was making me totally horny, tingling with excitement. The result of all this stimulation was inevitable, bringing my firm swollen nipples to full attention. The left, with its dark surrounding tissue, protruded against the thin, wet spandex in a lewd, virtually transparent display.

This was more exposure than I planned at this stage of the game, leaving me blushing and hesitant as I responded. "I-I'm s-sorry; I didn't realize that it was...Am I grossing you out Daddy?"

"N-no, dear. I just think that...Well, this isn't appropriate; I shouldn't be seeing...."

"Why not, Daddy?" I interrupted, realizing that with my tits on full display there was really no turning back.

"Come on, honey. A father shouldn't be seeing his daughter with...you know...."

"You've seen me in a lot less," I argued. "Remember when I used to run around the house in just my panties?"

"That was years ago, honey. But you've grown a lot since then," he responded in a wistful tone as he continued glancing down at my bulging tits.

Was Daddy feeling melancholy about the past, or regretful over the taboo of my tantalizing treats that he couldn't really sample? I wondered.

"You sound kind of sad, Daddy. Isn't growing up a good thing?" I asked.

"Of course it is, honey."

"Then if growing these is a good thing, why am I suddenly supposed to cover them more, like I'm ashamed of them?" I added to the point by covering my breasts. Only it was more like holding them up for further inspection, as I squeezed with my hands, causing them to balloon up, while ensuring that nubs poked through between my fingers.

"Aahh...Itis a g-good thing, I guess. It's j-just that...."

"This doesn't make sense," I interrupted. "It took a lot for me to get over hang-ups about my grownup body and let it show some. I wouldn't have done it without Nola pushing me to wear more revealing clothes, telling me I was beautiful and needed to show it."

"Youare beautiful, honey."

"Then why are you acting this way? You were the one who wanted her to teach me; I expected you'd be surprise and happy with my new look. But you're obviously shocked and upset. Maybe I should go back to being ashamed and hide under those baggy clothes again."

"No, baby," Daddy disagreed. "I don't want you to ever be ashamed of who you are."

"Yeah, but maybe I should be ashamed of how I look. I'm beginning to think this whole education by Nola was one big mistake."

"You shouldn't think that, honey. It's just that...Well, I guess it's my problem. Nola is a wonderful friend. You can trust what she tells you and should never be ashamed of how you look. You're beautiful!"

"Oh Daddy," I bubbled, "you really think so?"

"Of course I do."

"Then...I mean, I don't need to cover myself like this?" I queried, gently massaging my breasts while keeping them covered.

"Ahh...I-I...." He paused and then finally continued. "No, I g-guess you shouldn't have to c-cover them. I just need to get used to it."

"They look Ok like this?" I pushed, dropping my hands and staring down at my twin peaks as he looked on."

"Y-yeah...Damn!" I heard him mutter under his breath, shaking his head while his eyes remained riveted on my barely covered tits. I shivered with a sense of exhilaration, automatically arching for further projection.

The momentary silence seemed to go on forever as we stared at my nipple, plainly visible through the wet material. "Aahh," I gasped, while hearing Daddy suck in his breath—both of us captivated by my arousal as the elongated tip gradually swelled even more. "I-I didn't...I mean, I can't help it. Watching you see it...When you're staring like that, it makes it get..."