Pressed Together with Daughter

Emma was at home dressed in her overly large sorority t-shirt. Her shorts were way too small, revealing much of her thighs and a hint of her shapely, athletic butt. Her hair was tied in a ponytail and she had been roaming around the house barefoot.

Now she was standing behind a door, examining it; her eyes analyzing the details, studying the speed and movement of a swinging door the way an engineer would.

"What on earth are you doing?" I asked, amused by her concentration with a door.

"Prank war, dad. We're feuding with the new sorority pledges."

"Aren't you all supposed to be on the same side?"

"We are," she answered, turning towards me with a sly grin. "But that doesn't mean we can bully the new pledges a little."

The fatherly side of me was concerned by this.

"All in good fun, I hope?"

She gave a mischievous wink. "Oh, of course. I'd never do anything to create havoc, at least not intentionally."

That sounded like my Emma. The looks and sweetness of an angel. The mind of a...(you get the idea). She turned back towards the door, leaving me to shake my head and let out a long-suffering sigh.

"As long as you're all having fun," I mumbled, turning to walk away.

This was something that young people did, and it didn't concern me. If the sorority girls were enjoying themselves, I was glad. As I walked away, Emma was still analyzing the frame of the door.

"Dad?"

I turned back to face her. "Yes?"

"I've thought of a great way to scare the new girls at the sorority house."

"Good for you."

"Can you help me test it out?" she asked in a business-like manner. "I need to make sure there aren't any flaws in the plan, or else I'll look like an idiot."

"Playing silly pranks on people won't make you look like a genius either," I pointed out, quite amused.

"Very funny," she retorted, sticking out her tongue. "Are you going to help me or not?"

I resisted the urge to sigh. "What did you have in mind?"

Emma grinned, knowing she'd won. "Maybe we could prank someone together, just to see how it goes. It could be like a fun little dad/daughter thing, since you're so busy with work and I'm always busy with my college life."

The girl had a point. It had been a while since we had done anything meaningful together, just the two of us. As much as the idea of pulling pranks was unappealing to me, I did love the idea of us having some father-daughter bonding time again.

"Fine. I guess..."

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Now we need a live target."

"Wait a minute, do you actually expect me to help you scare a sorority girl with you?"

My voice rose at least two octaves as I nervously waited for her answer, crossing my arms.

Her smile turned into a loving expression. "No, just mom."

Now we were heading into dangerous territory, figuratively speaking. My wife is a normal, everyday career woman. Scaring her could be easily done, but why do it? My wife was a pillar of the community. Everyone loved her. She was a real sweetheart.

But, at the same time, the thought of scaring my wife in a prank sounded pretty amusing. Our marriage was ideal in many ways. We rarely fought. We still enjoyed showering each other with gifts. And the sex still had that spark after all these years.

The one thing that was beginning to lack, especially as of late, was the playfulness that thrived during our early years as a couple. Could a little prank help bring back the teasing and giggling that she loved so much?

"Nothing too scary, right?" I asked, still a tad concerned.

That mischievous smile still lingered. "Of course not. After all, this is mom we're talking about."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"We're not animals, dad," Emma scoffed with a toss of her hair. "At the sorority, we only scare each other for the fun of it. Everyone laughs. Then we play around afterwards."

I wasn't sure, but I could have sworn that there was a sly expression that flashed upon Emma's pretty face before it was replaced by a placid smile. Almost as if there was more to the story that she wasn't telling me. But, there was no way I'd dig any deeper. This was the sort of thing a father shouldn't inquire about, no matter how odd it seemed. I'd never felt comfortable prying. Who knew what I'd find...

"So what's the plan?" I asked.

Emma thought for a moment, plotting. "Let's see if we can both hide behind the bedroom door. It'll be a test run before mom gets back home."

Then, Emma grabbed my hand and dragged me to the master bedroom of the house. The room which I shared with my loving wife.

A twinge of guilt crept through my veins as I let her drag me down the hall. Maybe this wouldn't be such a good idea after all. I just had a hunch that this would lead us down an unexpected path. I shook it off as nerves.

It didn't matter, because soon there was no chance to reconsider as Emma got in position behind the door, her back against the wall. She gave me one of those, 'what are you waiting for?' kind of looks, lifting an eyebrow up at me.

As her back was pressed straight up against the wall, her chest pointed forward. Emma wasn't a super busty girl. But her breasts were decent sized roundish globes, yet still slightly perky. It wasn't clear whether she knew how uncomfortable this was making me.

Not wanting her to catch on, I got nearer and slid into the small space in front of her, with both of us standing behind the door like a pair of weirdos, my face almost an inch from the door. I held myself away from her stiffly, very aware of the tips of her breasts brushing against my back.

"Closer," she said, a bit peeved. "I want to see if two people can legitimately hide behind a door without it being obvious."

I took a slight step back. "There. That's as far back as I can go without stepping on your feet or squishing you."

"Nonsense. I can take it."

With that, Emma grabbed me by the waist and pulled me flush against her, so that the entire length of bodies was pressed together tightly. I felt her breasts pressing against my back. It was my first time ever feeling them. They were soft and firm, the way breasts were supposed to feel, only this was my daughter. How very uncomfortable and awkward. I cleared my throat in an effort to get a hold of my wandering thoughts. Emma didn't seem to mind though.

She reached over to pull the door directly in front of us, nearly touching my face. She made a 'hmm....' sound, while she carefully thought about the scenario we were in, inspecting the space as if she were an engineer once again.

"I'm not sure if two people can effectively fit in here," she said apprehensively. "The idea here is to create a two-prong attack against the victim, with two people jumping out at the same time."

"Attack? Victim?" I asked, questioning her choice of words, all while feeling the softness of her breasts which were still pressed against my back.

"It's slang," Emma replied, brushing off my concern. "It's part of joining the sorority. Everyone goes through it, including myself."

"I don't know if that's the best way to treat new members."

"Better than hazing," she mumbled, only half-jokingly.

There was no reasoning with her on this, as with anything else. Emma was determined to perfect her scare tactic against the new sorority girls. There was nothing I could do to stop her.

"What should we do now?" I asked. "Abort the plan? Both of us can't fit back here."

"The plan is still ongoing. I'll need you to make a scary face though"

"I'm not that sort of guy. I thought you were going to do all the work on that part."

"I'll take the lead then," she relented. "Let's switch places and try standing sideways. We'll fit better behind this door, and I'll do the scaring."

That was when we switched places. We remained behind the door and I shuffled to get behind Emma. She insisted that I hold her tightly. We stood sideways against the wall so that we'd fit better inside the tight spot. Then she pulled the door to cover us.

In truth, it felt nice holding Emma like this. Mostly in a loving-fatherly way. She had a terrific body, so soft, but I was trying not to think about that.

"This works better," she said in a pleasant tone. "Mom will be home at any moment. When she comes in to change her clothes, I'll jump out in front of her, making a scary noise. You'll follow behind me."

Once again, that feeling of regret swept over me. I somehow knew we were heading down the wrong path. Especially since my wife was just the sweetest person imaginable.

That was it. I had to end it.

"Emma, we..."

Just then, we heard the sound of the front door opening downstairs. It was my wife talking on the phone. By the sound of things, it sounded like she was talking business. My wife is a trial lawyer and it sounded like she was talking about an upcoming courtroom appearance she'd have to make.

It was fairly common for my wife to take a call after parking in the driveway. This normally meant that she'd be on the phone for a while, talking about a case while in the kitchen looking for a glass of wine.

"This is gonna be so good," Emma whispered in a mischievous tone.

"I don't think we should do this," I whispered back softly, my arms still securely holding her in front of me.

My wife was still talking downstairs, so we still had time to abort the plan of scaring her.

"No way," Emma whispered. "We've already come this far. Don't worry, I'll do all the work."

"Fine, you do it then. Let me out though."

Emma clutched the doorknob so I couldn't escape. "Dad, no. Please, please, please. I need to see if this will work with two people behind the door. We're escalating the pranks at the sorority house this year."

In many ways, this felt like the last straw. Pranks were fine. Scaring people had always made me uncomfortable though. The fact that Emma was so at ease with terrifying unsuspecting people made me even more uncomfortable.

This was my daughter. As a father, I had a duty to put my foot down. I couldn't allow her to do this to my wife, or to anyone. I wouldn't be a part of this. But I didn't want to scold her either. I mean, it could be much worse, right?

"Emma, we can't do this," I said softly, firmly holding her, giving her a little shake. "It isn't right. Even scaring people at the sorority house just isn't something you should be doing. You're a young lady now. Act like it."

"Dad, trust me. No one is being harmed."

"That's not the point," I retorted, trying to reason with her. "Being scared without warning isn't right. Quite stress-inducing, don't you think? Those freshmen already have enough on their hands."

"But all the girls like it afterwards," she whined. "Trust me."

"How do you know?"

"I just do," she replied stubbornly.

I sighed. She'd inherited her mother's stubborn streak. I could see that well enough.

"Emma, just because people laugh, doesn't mean they enjoy it. Maybe they laugh because of peer pressure, because everyone else is. Maybe they want to act like they're having fun so they can fit in, when deep down they hate it."

"Or maybe it's because we eat each others pussies afterwards."

Emma's words came as a stunning shock, my mouth dropping open in surprise. I couldn't believe what she had just blurted out. Surely, it must be a miscommunication on her part. I stared, stock-still.

"Oops," she softly whispered, confirming her slip-up.

Yet, she didn't bother to correct herself.

"Please tell me that you misspoke."

There was a brief pause. All we could hear was the sound of my wife speaking lawyerly downstairs in the kitchen.

Emma dropped her head down to look at her feet while clutching my hands around her waist.

"Sorry dad," she said meekly. "It's part of the sorority. Please don't be upset."

"Doing-- that -- is part of the sorority?"

I tried my best to keep my voice down. I tried even harder not to be upset at Emma. She's a beautiful young woman who appeared to be in that phase of her adult life where she'd started to do some exploring. There's nothing wrong with that, right? I shook my head. This was my daughter were talking about!

"It's a long story," she said hurriedly, sensing a storm brewing. "You're right. Let's abort the plan. It's stupid to try and do this to mom."

When she tried to leave our hiding place behind the door, I kept my hands clasped around her and gave a slight tug to prevent her from leaving. Sure, she could have left, but she didn't resist at all.

"Tell me," I said, quietly. "I want to know what you're doing with all the money I'm spending for your expensive education."

"Are you sure?"

"Just tell me."

"Well," she started cautiously. "It's a little game we play, especially for the new recruits. We try to scare each other. The more scared someone gets, the more pussy she has to eat. If they do a good job, another sorority girl will be tasked by rewarding them."

It was a total shock. You'd hear stories about how raunchy these sororities could get, but I'd always assumed those to be rumors. Or most likely, just a figment of someone's overactive imagination. An erotic fantasy, if you will.

But this was the real thing. There was no way Emma would lie about this. Especially not to me. I could always tell when she lied, and this was 100% pure truth.

Emma continued, "It's basically a hierarchy thing. Lower ranked girls do most of the oral giving. The higher ranked girls get most of the receiving. But in the end, we all take turns with each other."

"That sounds...I don't know....I'm shocked. I can't believe new recruits actually put up with that."

"Dad, why do you think we're the most popular sorority on campus?" she asked with a little tease in her voice.

I was still shell shocked by the revelation. Yet, after the initial wave passed, I had to admit, I was strangely curious. The thought of pretty young college girls giving each other pleasure, sprawled out and moaning, was certainly enticing.

"How often have you actually... nevermind. Don't answer that."

I tried to leave, releasing my hold of her waist, trying to push the door open so that I could free myself from the hiding place.

This time, it was Emma who grabbed the doorknob and gripped it, so that we remained isolated behind the door together, against the wall.

"I get scared easily," she softly admitted. "That meant, when I was a new sorority girl, I ate pussy a lot. Don't worry, I loved doing it. I loved it from the first time I tried it."

"God, please don't..."

She continued anyway. "I'm on the middle tier now, which means I eat pussy, but I also receive quite frequently too."

"You shouldn't be doing that," was all I managed to say.

"Well, you like my good grades, right?"

"Of course I do," I admitted.

"Getting my pussy eaten is a great stress reliever," she explained. "Nothing gets me ready for an exam like a mouth on my pussy. So please, dad, don't be mad at me. I don't want you to think any less of me."

I sighed, wrapping my hands back around her stomach and pressing my face against her hair. It was my subtle way of showing that I couldn't be mad at her for this, no matter how extreme this all seemed to me.

"I'm not mad at you," I whispered.

"Great," she said happily. "Let's get back on track. When mom is done talking on the phone, we'll give her a scare."

"Still practicing for later?"

I instantly regretted the comment, knowing that Emma would try this technique of scaring someone so she could get her pussy eaten.

"Oh yes," she said naughtily. "My best friend and I are going to double-scare a group of new girls. It'll be epic when they all have to eat our pussies."

I sighed, "Not something I want to hear, Emma. Speaking of which, does your mother know about this?"

Emma's animated body froze. She glanced up at me and gave her lips a nervous lick. There was a pause that lasted a few seconds, and we both heard the sound of Emma's mom talking downstairs on the phone.

"Ummm...on second thought, maybe pranking mom is a bad idea. Let's go."

As she tried to leave our little hiding place, I gave her waist a soft tug, bringing her back to me. Again, she could have escaped since I wasn't holding her that tightly, but she didn't, and I continued to cradle her in my arms.

"Mom knows," she admitted with caution. "She warned me about it when she found out which university I wanted to attend."

That's when it suddenly dawned on me. My wife had gone to the same university as Emma. Had my wife gone through the same rituals? The very thought confused and excited me at the same time. I didn't know what to think.

"Has your mother...."

I couldn't bring myself to finish that sentence.

Emma turned her neck to look back at me. "Mom knows. She's participated in it. That's why she warned me. To make sure I knew what I was getting into."

The shock of all shocks. The two most important women in my life had engaged in all sorts of crazy lesbian sex acts. Strange feelings were being conjured up inside me, physically and mentally, and I didn't know what to make of them.

"God..." I groaned.

"Don't be so surprised, dad. Mom is gorgeous. Women love her."

I felt totally confused, and suddenly I wasn't in the mood to hide behind a bedroom door. I tried to leave. This time, it was Emma who clenched the doorknob once again, keeping me in place.

"You still want to do this?" I asked.

"I like being pressed against you like this."

"Why?"

She wiggled her hips. "It's kind of hot feeling your erection against my back."

Oh fuck. In the haze of things, my cock had stiffened right against her lower back. Normally, this was the sort of thing you'd know right away. But I had received one shock after the other. It was almost like an out-of-body experience.

All the while, Emma's hand remained clenched on the doorknob so that I couldn't leave. I could have simply overpowered her, but for some reason, she knew I wouldn't.

"What are you doing?" I asked, making little attempt to remove my pressed erection from her back, even as I felt it throbbing.

"Sticking to the plan. You've always raised me to never be a quitter. If I say I'll do something, I'll do it."

"This isn't what I had in mind," I sighed.

Emma wiggled her hips again, grinding against my cock. She laughed when she heard my breath leaving me in a huff.

"What's the matter? Is this getting too hard for you? No pun intended."

What a pun on Emma's part. Worse, I couldn't call her out on it. My cock was hard, pressed against her backside. And I was letting it happen as we hid behind the door.

This was it. It had gone far enough already. I was determined to overcome my state of sexual overload and get out of this mess. I put my hands firmly on Emma's shoulders to give her a little nudge, letting her know I was serious about ending this (even though I still wasn't entirely sure). In response, Emma pushed herself back, which pressed my erection harder against her back. She clenched her fingers around the doorknob even tighter, trapping me.

I could have yanked her soft little fingers off the doorknob and shoved her aside, but what kind of loving father would do that to their daughter? Besides, a small part of me wanted to remain hidden there with Emma. Hearing her stories and feeling her tight body was a thrill, as much as I hated to admit it.

"We can't leave yet," she repeated. "It's the week of sorority initiations, and it's tradition to scare other members. I need to test out this double-scare theory. The results are going to be amazing."

Something clicked in my head. Dirty thoughts came to mind, and I didn't know how to process them. It was all a theory, but it made sense given the context of things.

"Emma..." My voice cracked, and I gulped before trying again. "Are you and your mother...I think you know what I'm asking..."