Lyza

"Lyza! Lyza! Where are you?" I shouted as I walked through the house looking for my 18-year-old daughter, a 5'7", 105 lbs., 32 D, straight "A" student as well as the first chair violin in her high school symphony. I married her mom long ago, after she graduated from school and I had been working for several years after the University. I was 46, only an inch taller than Lyza, and 178 lbs. Where her hair was a mousy brown, like her mother's, mine was dark brown. We were an open-minded, liberal family. Her mom, my ex, had left just a few weeks ago to be with some other guy.

I couldn't find her anywhere. She was supposed to be home from school an hour ago. She kept pulling these little acts more frequently these days. I walked down the stairs to the family room. There she was! Sitting on the floor with her back to me, talking on the phone, her skirt pulled up around her waist, with her free hand down her panties, or what there was of the tiny thongs she wore lately. I finally had had it. I was tired of this behavior.

"Lyza!" I almost yelled in her other ear. Shocked, startled, and looking very guilty, she slammed the phone down and turned it off.

"Daddy…" she squeaked.

I grabbed her by the back of her shirt, pulling her up off the floor, lifting her shirt much higher on her shoulders, pulling tight under her arms, almost baring the bottoms of her breasts. Her hands went down to her skirt, pushing and pulling the hem down lower, much lower, making the waistband of her multicolored thong come into my view. I swung her around, face away from me, and swatted her shapely young ass.

I was mad. She had done this so many times before. Too many times!

I swung around, Lyza in front of me, flopping down on the couch. I forced her down on my lap! One hand holding her head into the cushions of the couch the other poised above her rear.

"Lyza, you know I'm tired of this behavior. I catch you with your hand in your pants so often I can't stand it. What do you want me to do?" I asked as my hand came down on her rear.

"Daddy, Please! Don't! Please! Stop! Please! I didn't do anything wrong. I was talking with Kimberly about boys! And got excited. I had to do it." She defended herself.

Again my hand hit her soft spot. She wiggled and fidgeted on my knees, rubbing her thighs on my upper leg slowly spreading her legs apart.

My hand came down on her ass again, this time hesitating a bit and rubbing her skirt higher on her cute little rump exposing her soft round, thong divided sexy cheeks.

"Lyza, what-am-I gonna do with you? Every time I turn around I find you finger fucking yourself in some corner! You get me so mad and so horny I take you over my knees, spank you, and still you do it. What are you trying to do, get caught so I will do this?" I demanded of her.

My hand came down again, this time rubbing the skirt fully up to her waist, exposing the triangle of fabric where her thong came out of her rump crack and met the tiny, tight waistband. Immediately I hooked my little finger under the soft, silky material and pulled upward, hard, forcing the ass piece to turn the front quarter into pussy floss. She gasped loudly.

"Daddy, that hurts! Please! Don't! Please! Stop! Please!" she begged as her hips and butt humped and wiggled against the tight string.

I shifted my hand back around and whacked her again. "That's for teasing me so much! It's about time you learned what your actions do to others and me," I said in a much softer voice, my anger starting to subside.

"I don't care about other people," she whined. "I only care about you. I love you Daddy," she whimpered.

All this while my other hand was on the back of her neck, holding her head down and controlling her by squeezing her neck and pushing her head into the couch. Her hands flailed about trying to hit or grab me, without success. This time, she took her outside free hand and brought it up between my legs. She grabbed my cock and squeezed, hard, real hard.

I winced and brought my hand down again, this time harder, and curled my little finger deeper into her crack, forcing it into the opening of her backside hole, wiggling it into the breach.

"You deserve this and you WILL learn to control yourself, Lyza, you understand?" I hissed at her, feeling her loosen and tighten her grasp on my cock.

I brought my hand up and down again and smacked her ass again, this time bringing a yelp to her mouth and a really hard yank on my meat. It hurt. So I smacked her again. This time she rubbed more gently.

"Lyza, what do you want me to do? You are still a virgin, aren't you?" I asked while my little finger explored her asshole.

"Yes Daddy, I am. Please! Don't! Please! Stop! Please!" she again begged, ceasing her struggling, shifting her ass and crotch higher on my lap, bringing her cunt into contact with my little man. I let her go. She stayed in place.

"Lyza, we need to talk about your behavior. What do you expect to accomplish with your snootiness and rebellion? Do you want to leave me and be with your friends?"

"No Daddy, I just want Mommy back," she tearfully admitted.

"Honey, you know that may take some time. She said she needed to be away and find herself again."

"Yes, I know," Lyza admitted. I was proud of her for understanding that little bit of life and told her so. She ground her crotch into my dick.

"Honey, you know you are making me horny and harder?" I asked in my most controlled voice. She pressed harder, squeezing with her hand again.

"Yes Daddy, Please Don't Stop, Please…" she plead. Suddenly I caught on, I understood what she wanted. I slipped my whole hand under the fabric of her thong and into her rear crack, rubbing her bright red cheeks, my little finger in her asshole, another slipping through her labia. She moaned softly, grinding her crotch a little harder into my swiftly hardening piece.

"Stand up, baby," I whispered into her hair. She complied.

"Strip." She did, dropping her clothes all over the couch and me, stopping before removing her thong.

"Now your thong." She turned her back to me, put her thumbs in the waistband on each side, and started sliding the multicolored cloth down her hips, bending lower and lower as her hands and the material got closer to the floor.

Seeing her butt bending lower and lower made my tool get bigger and bigger.

Finally the rolled up fabric touched the floor with her hands almost flat to the carpet. Her ass stuck up in the air, her knees bent. She kicked the thong off one foot and she spread her feet as far apart as she could without falling over. This gave me a fantastic view of her cheeks, obviously wet pussy and quivering ass hole.

"Thank you Lyza," I groaned as I reached out to grasp her hips and pull her backward toward me. With her still standing, her cunt at my eye level, I dipped my head slightly and stuck my tongue into her slit.

She shuddered and said, "Oh! Daddy, that feels so good, Please don't Stop! Please!" She began bending toward the floor, I kept my tongue moving as she kept bending lower and lower toward the heavily carpeted floor. Finally she was on her hands and knees, with her head down. My tongue slowly continued its path up and down her cunny-crack, from her swiftly hardening and elongating clitoris to her puckered and quivering rectum.

To be continued...