Youth & Experience

Story Info
Father will do anything for daughter to feel beautiful.
7.5k words
4.12
187.4k
53
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Hi, guys. Been a while, but I am back with this story that I have been working on for a while. Hope you like it. I really liked the idea, and I have been anxious to share this one. Before I start, I want to apologize for A Desperate Mind. I am proud of the story, but for those disappointed, I understand and I will probably abandon those characters indefinitely. Also, Alex and Emma Ch. 3 will follow this story, but no date is really set. It will certainly be on here by fall. Anyway, here is Youth & Experience. After finishing the story, leave your comments below. Would love feedback for this story.

-------------

Before I start, let me get the obvious out of the way. One week ago, I fucked my 28-year old daughter. I feel no shame about doing so. We both enjoyed ourselves as we fucked each other, and so why would I regret I did? It is dumb, pointless, and, in this writer's humble opinion, the act was actually beneficial for the two of us, so that's that.

But before I get to what you all what to read, I need to explain to all of you just who and my daughter are and what lead us to our mutual fucking session.

My name is Jake Philip Smith. I am 46 years old, 6'4, weigh 165 pounds of solid muscle, have nice strong arms, have short brown hair, have brown eyes, and the proud owner of a 7-inch cock, which I happily pleased my wife with for over 20 years.

People who know me best would say I have a kind, warm personality. I have been called a serious minded individual who can still laugh at himself.

I can be short tempted and I have been known to be a little too sarcastic at times, but most people tend to find me pleasant and enjoyable company.

I construct houses for a living. I love my job, as it allows me to work with my hands, keeps me on my feet so I stay fit, and make a healthy sum of money so I can keep my family provided for and have some extra to spend on the side. This way, my wife and daughter could have the life that I didn't have.

My ex-wife, Jan Elizabeth Jackson, was an history teacher at the high school where we had graduated 27 years earlier. My wife was, and still is, a stunner. Shoulder length honey blond hair, dazzling green eyes, gorgeous full pink lips perfect for a blowjob, 34 C breasts, a 31 inch waist, 34 inch hips and an ass that just was asking to be spanked over and over again, which I happily did much of in my wife and mine's sex life.

Jan, when I was younger, was almost like my alter-ego, but over the years, she became too serious and "put together" for my taste. I am all for being organized and taking matters seriously, but honestly, before we divorced, I was at a point in our marriage when I couldn't remember the last time my wife smiled at me. Our sex life was still as hot as ever, but I got the feeling my wife wasn't as into it as she used to be, as if I was another man she was fucking instead of the man she married.

My wife and I only had only one child. Samantha Taylor Smith-Jackson. The pride of my life. For those who say you aren't really a parent if you only have one child, those people clearly didn't have my baby as their child. Oh, don't get me wrong, I simply found my child to be irresistible. All it took for my baby girl when she was about to be trouble was a lip pout, those sad big green eyes looking right at you, and the words "I'm sorry, Daddy" in her adorable voice and I knew then for the next 18 years, my fate was sealed. This girl would have me wrapped me around her finger for the rest of her life, and she didn't want it any other way. But damn, was my little darling a handful. Oh, she wasn't like a bad kid in school or anything like that. She, like her parents, made straight A's in high school, was a member of several high school organizations, and was beloved by most, if not all, of her fellow students and teachers.

No, my little girl was a handful because she simply was a very curious and take charge kind of an individual. When she saw something she wanted, she would usually just take it. Now, of course, that became less and less of a problem as she got older, but still, you don't realize the amount of Barbies I would have to return to the store because she would try to hijack them out of there.

My daughter is the splitting image of her mother when she was 28. I swear, you could take a picture of my wife from the same age and put it up to a picture of my daughter and I swear, you would think it was the same person. But that is where comparisons ended, for while she may have looked like her mother, she was, without a shadow of a doubt, her father's daughter.

My mouth was the biggest smartass I knew outside of myself. She had been like that even before she hit puberty. Maybe that was me rubbing off on her, I don't know, but she put my mouth to shame.

As my daughter grew, she became as beautiful as her mother, and due to my wife and mine's ever expanding divide, I began to notice my daughter more and more. Watching her from afar as she grew up, her wearing several tight clothes and such, I found myself reluctant to admit it, but if I was younger, and not her father, of course, I would totally find myself hot for Sam.

My daughter, like me, married shortly after high school to a guy I actually thought had some class to him. His name was Stanley Jackson, and he was quite the catch for a girl like Samantha. He was the quarterback on the football team, was in the top percentile of his class, and just was deemed as one of the most likable young men in our suburb. They both married the year after graduating high school, and I assumed my daughter's life was in good hands. He had a steady and well paying job in real estate, meaning my daughter would be well provided for.

Stanley Jackson. I hate that little fucking bastard.

For 8 years, my daughter gave him the world. Always having a nice, hot meal on the table when he got home. Always working her butt off cleaning up the house, Always making sure he was sexually satisfied(I only know that from what she told me. I don't give a damn about my daughter's sex life.). And yet, that wasn't enough for him, I guess. No, I guess he just decided that my daughter wasn't doing it for him anymore.

This is where my ex-wife comes in.

Yep, you probably know where this is going, but for shits and giggles, let me go on. It was Valentine's Day, almost two months ago. I had gotten off early and to celebrate the occasion, I went to go buy my wife something for Valentine's Day.

I drove to the local store and picked up some violets, her favorite flowers, and a box of white chocolate candies. I also grabbed some scented candles, trying to decide what aromas went well together. Cinnamon and hazelnut? Strawberries and Cherries? Oh, how I wish I knew what the hell I was doing. Eventually, I just picked up Cinnamon and Peaches(not the best combo, I know, but give me a fucking break)and proceeded to checkout.

After checking out my items, I walked to my car and proceeded to drive home. It seemed to take longer than usual. I hadn't been this excited in a long time. In hindsight, I should had went to just go see my daughter instead.

I saw my house in the distance. I live in a nice, navy blue, two story house in the suburbs of Philly. We have decent-sized backyard, a nice, wide porch, with a white, wood porch swing, and a fully paved driveway which I paved myself.

I pulled into my driveway, grabbed my supplies, and walked to the door of my house. I opened the door and heard a very familiar sound. It was my wife, breathing heavily. I hadn't heard her breathe that hard in a long time.

"Oh, fuck me. Fuck, that feels good."

I hoped there wasn't another voice up there with her. Every married individual dreads a moment like this. You just don't ever think it could ever happen to you.

"Oh, yes. Ride my fucking cock, bitch. You feel so fucking good."

I walked up to our bedroom, the dread I am feeling building in anticipation, and I am walking as slow as I can to not alert Jan to my presence. Finally, I reach the slightly ajar door and see a most infuriating sight.

There is Jan, my wife and love of my life, riding another man's cock as if she hasn't never ridden another cock in my life. That would be enough be to make any man angry, but the icing on the shit storm cake? The prick she was riding on belonged to an even bigger prick: my model of exceptional youth son-in-law!

I barged in, screaming "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?"

Jan just remained in place on his cock as Stanley sat up, mouth agape, the very model of the apparently shocked dumbass you usually see in these situations, and looked in my general direction.

"Hi, dad."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING HI,DAD ME! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING FUCKING YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW?!?!"

"Relax, Jake. I can explain. You see, it's like..."

"Oh, fuck it, Jake. Look, you had to realize we were dripping apart. I need more excitement in my life. I am 46 years old. My life is almost over. I need something new, exciting. You aren't cutting it anymore."

I couldn't believe Jan was saying this to me. For over 20 years, we had been so happy, so fulfilled by the other, and now, it was like all that faded away, as if it never existed at all.

"You fucking..."

"What? Say it, Jake. What am I?"

I couldn't say it. As much as I hated both of them in that moment, she was the mother of my child. I could never entirely hate her.

I looked over at my asshole son-in-law.

"And you? Why are you cheating on my daughter? She does everything for you."

He just shrugged. "I don't know. She just not exciting enough for me anymore."

"What the fuck are you saying?"

"She...well, sucks in the sack."

"WHAT?!?!"

"Dude, chill."

My wife finally got off his cock trying to hold me back. A pointless excise, as I was clearly stronger than her, but I allowed it. The last thing I needed right now was to be sued by this little prick. Sure I could pay it off, but it was the principle of the thing.

"Explain yourself."

"She always fucks me like she is making love or some shit. Sometimes, I just a nice, solid fuck. Is that too much to ask?"

"When it concerns my daughter, yeah, it fucking is."

"Dude, chill. Your daughter is a fox. She will move on."

Did this guy just want to get punched in the face or was it just me?

I shrugged my shoulders to let my wife know to let me go and just looked at her.

"I want a divorce. And I believe Sam will want one, too."

I turned to walk out. Before I left, I said some parting words.

"There is some items down here for you, Jan. Happy Valentines Day!"

I slammed the door behind me, and just walked down to my daughter's place, five blocks down from me. As I walked down the path, five little words found their way into my head:

I fucking hate Valentine's Day!

-------------

Compared to my house, my daughter had a more humble home. It was a simple yellow one-story house that was only was really designed for two. It just had the essentials: driveway, porch, small backyard, etc. Amazing. After all I had done to give my daughter the life she never had, she still prefer a life of modesty.

I walked to her door and knocked, awaiting her presence at the door. There was no answer. I knew she was home, so I just opened the door and walked inside.

"Sam? Baby, it's Daddy."

I heard footsteps coming from her direction and then, she stood before me.

Even now, my baby girl is still a stunner. She was wearing a sky-blue tank top and some tight blue jeans. She wasn't wearing socks and shoes, and the make-up from her eyes had run down due to her tears.

"Did Stanley call?"

She nodded.

"How much did he tell you?"

"I know every single incestuous detail."

I sighed. "Come here, baby."

She hurried over to me, the tears returning to her eyes as I held her in my arms.

"I just don't understand, Daddy. Why is fucking Mom?"

"Because he is a jackass, baby."

She shook her head. "No, tell me. He said you guys talked. What did he say about me?"

She looked at me, anxiously awaiting the answer. As when she was a child, I found I couldn't avoid her or resist her methods, so I told her.

"He said he doesn't think you are...fully satisfying..."

"...in bed."

I nodded.

My daughter nodded, understandably pissed. "I fucking told him I prefer to make love. I am not a fucking type of girl. I mean, I like to fuck, but..."

"Uh, too much info."

My daughter shot me a look. "This coming from the same man who used to keep me up till 3 AM saying 'Is that how you like my cock, baby? Momma likes her cock, doesn't she?' "

"Point taken."

"And I heard that when I was 10 years old. Imagine if I heard that at a more innocent age."

I smiled. Even at her lowest point, my daughter still wouldn't let this knock her down. She gets that from me.

I walked over to her and wrapped my arm around her. She moves close to me and wraps her arm around me. The scent of strawberry and cream shampoo engulfs her hair. It is intoxicating and always makes me forget why I am here.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I really am."

"It's okay." She unwraps her arm from around me and faces me directly. "Should have paid attention to the signs. Honestly, I am more worried about you. I mean, you and mom were married for over twenty years. How are you not crying right now?"

I shrugged. "Who said I'm not. Just doing it on the inside."

"Dad, don't pull any of that macho shit on me. If you need to let it out, I wouldn't think less of you."

I smiled at her. "Thanks a lot, baby. But right now, I'm more angry than sad."

She nodded. We sat there in silence, uncertain of what to do. We both just sigh to ourselves as loud as we can. Suddenly, I had an idea.

"Hey!"

"What?"

I turn to look at her. "How about you and I go to the beach house this weekend?"

"Huh?"

"Think about it. What better place to relieve stress than a place surrounded by water, beautiful views, and not many people in any direction? It would be just us. Father and daughter, together again. Nothing would stand in our way."

She took a minute to think to herself. But I saw that twinkle in her eye when she heard a plan she liked, and I knew I had her.

"Sounds great, dad. How about we leave a little earlier, though. Like tomorrow?"

"Why so soon?"

"The sooner I can get away from here, the better."

I saw her point.

"Okay, baby. I have a lot to prepare for, but it all will be taken care of. We will have to leave early in the morning. You think you can manage?"

"Dad, I'm 28, not 5."

I chuckle. "Okay, I will take care of that right now. I will call you later and give you the details tonight."

Sam hugged me and I wrapped my arms around tight.

"Why can't all guys be like you?"

"Because I one of a kind, baby doll."

She laughed a adorable chuckle that confused me to its tone: either playful or flirtatious.

"Don't I know it."

I released her, smiled at her, and left the house, with the promise I would see her tomorrow.

-------------

I made my way back to my car, taking one last glance as the house as I do, wondering if they are still up there, understand just how much pain they had caused Sam and me. I just shake my head and get in my car. After placing the keys in the ignition, and checking all my mirrors, I proceed to pull out and drive to the airport to get the tickets.

As I drive to my destination, my daughters' last words play over and over in my head: "Don't I know it." What did she mean by that? At the time, I couldn't decide if it was meant as just an innocent throwaway line or something more. I mean, my daughter has always had a naughty streak to her, but flirting with her old man. Was that something she was comfortable with, or was I just simply overthinking it?

This way of thinking plagued my thoughts all the way to the Philadelphia International Airport. I spent about a hour there as I proceed to get my tickets so my daughter and I can vacation at the old beach house.

Actually, it wasn't really that old. I had bought it as a birthday gift for my wife's 40th birthday. I had constructed it myself. It was a simple wooden one-story beach house down in the Florida Keys, with a beautiful view of the Atlantic Ocean in the front and no real other people in sight for miles. It was just the place for tranquility and getting away from it all.

I got the tickets. We were heading out on the 9:45 flight heading to Florida tomorrow morning, I called my daughter with the news.

"Do you need me to come get you or..."

"No. I will meet you there. I know how to get to the airport. I will see you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay. Well, I am heading home to go to bed. Probably need to burn the sheets."

She chuckled at that.

"Night, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you, too. See you tomorrow."

"You too. And Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"When this weekend is over, you will have forgotten all about Mommy."

Another giggle, then I heard a click. Seriously, what was my daughter's game?

-------------

I awoke the next morning at 5:30. I did my daily routine: showered, brushed, shaved, ate breakfast, etc. I thought about wanking off, as I was incredibly horny and wouldn't get the chance to masturbate again for about eight hours, give or take. Plus, after my talk with my daughter last night, I was beginning to think about my daughter in less than appropriate ways. Seriously, she had only said two things to me, but I swear, she said them to me the way her mother used to flirt with me when we were in high school. As I said before, my daughter is a beautiful girl. She is the splitting image of her mother when Jan was 28, only Sam had better everything. Her breasts were a 36 C, a 28-inch waist, and 36 inch hips. Now, I never really oogled my daughter. Just happened to notice these things.

As I was heading out the door, I noticed a letter on the counter in my wife's handwriting. Considering I had a few minutes to kill, I decided to read it.

Dear Jake,

I will not make any excuses or any regrets for my behavior with your son-in-law. I still love you, or at the very least, respect you. I will always love the time we had together, but I have to follow my heart and you must do the same. Take care of our daughter. Shouldn't be too hard for you. She was closer to you anyways. Take care.

With deepest respect,

Jan.

I sensed resentment in the letter when I read that part about Sam. I just smirked to myself. Well, if you had taken a more active part in her life growing up, then you guys would probably have had a closer bond. It is not her fault that you became fake and superficial like Annette Bening in American Beauty. I did everything for Sam. I had been there for my daughter for every important moment of her life: her first time riding a bike, her first day of school, when she got her license. Heck, I even took her shopping for her dress for her first dance. It was incredibly awkward, as I was the only dad in the store that day, but I was there, and Jan wasn't.

It had been Jan's fault, no one else's.

I crumbled the letter, threw it in the trash, and headed out the door. I walk over to the car, got inside, put the key in the ignition, and proceeded to drive to the airport.

On the drive up there, I began thinking of my daughter's recent behavior again. She clearly had been flirting with me, but I understand why she wad doing it. She had been feeling vulnerable since that little prick broke her heart. It was entirely innocent, but still the development didn't entirely disgust me. As I said before, I knew my daughter was hot and my attraction to her wasn't entirely sexual. I loved her personality as well. I personally had never clicked with another woman as well as my daughter. But I couldn't pursue any kind of relationship with my daughter, right? I mean, not only was any kind of relationship with her illegal, but it would be really awkward, considering how close to her I really am. No, any kind of relationship with her is completely out of the question.