XPost: alt.romance, nz.general, soc.women   
   XPost: soc.culture.indian, alt.philosophy, alt.politics.prayer   
   From: ibshamlat@gmail.com   
      
   It was early Saturday morning and lying in bed under   
   the covers reading the paper, music drifting down the   
   hall from his daughter's bedroom, Jill's father looked   
   up surprised as she danced into his bedroom.   
      
   "Wow, baby...where'd you learn to dance like that,   
   sweetie?"   
      
   Her smile contagious Jill looked her father right in   
   the eye, pointing at him like the girl in the movie   
   had, dancing to Roxy Music's version of If There Is   
   Something, mouthing the words to the chorus, "when we   
   were young."   
      
   "...from the TV, Daddy," she beamed sensually, flushed   
   hot, a heat coursing through her knowing she'd   
   masturbated to a wrecking orgasm on her father's bed   
   the morning before, right where he was laying, his   
   smell in the sheets, her fingers pressing against her   
   tiny thin panties, her favorite fantasy her father's   
   cock pressing against her warm little hole through her   
   flowery little panties, the ones with the bow in   
   front.   
      
   "From the TV," meant from the video she'd watched, the   
   movie Tokyo Decadence he'd left in his DVD player.   
   She'd watched it while he was at work, imagining the   
   man making the woman make herself cum moving for him,   
   was her father.   
      
   Fully in character she felt so soft and sexy and   
   confident an extension of their playfulness with each   
   other, already having worked herself up watching   
   herself dance in her full length mirror, already   
   buttery warm inside; pushing past her shyness she   
   turned and wagged her little bottom at him, like a   
   little girl dog in heat begging for cock she thought   
   to herself, grinning, her secret thoughts.   
      
   Jill had purposefully dressed in just her loose   
   fitting pink boy-shorts pajama bottoms - she knew how   
   sexy she looked in them; and, just like one of the   
   strippers in the video she found on her father's   
   computer she'd bunched up her pink little half top t-   
   shirt into the collar barely covering her swollen hot   
   breasts.   
      
   At first, she was just dancing, innocently enough to   
   the rhythm of the music. Now, she was sliding down the   
   doorframe and standing back up like she was pole   
   dancing, getting more and more confident as her father   
   watched her intently, mimicking the girl in the video,   
   grinding, swiveling her hips, erotically, just like   
   the stripper in the movie in front of the huge plate   
   glass window overlooking downtown Tokyo all the while   
   mouthing the words to the song...   
      
   ..." Reveal my secrets   
   More than enough for me to share   
   I would put roses round our door"...   
      
   She gazed right into her father's brown eyes, him   
   partially smiling a sort of stunned look on his face,   
   her long dark-brown hair in pigtails dangling down on   
   either side of her face, feeling so steamy sexy,   
   deliciously more than her father's little girl.   
      
   She kept smiling at him looking into her eyes, letting   
   her dance not sure really how else to react being so   
   surprised by his daughters impromptu performance; his   
   balls tingling hot, how else was he supposed to react;   
   his daughter, his little girl, so scantily clad; her   
   soft skin and smile so radiant, her breasts and   
   nipples so prominently displayed, her perfect round   
   glowing little belly, her soft little hips, her boy   
   shorts making her look so provocative he could grab   
   her and take her like she wasn't his daughter. She was   
   like the women he fantasized about, jerked off to, and   
   suddenly, here she was, his little baby, in his   
   bedroom his own daughter.   
      
   It was so wrong it made his cock jump and swell and   
   ache with a seething kind of tingling heat. His   
   daughter, his little girl, her glowing skin the most   
   erotic thing he'd ever seen. A fine line he sensed he   
   was about to cross, they, were about to cross, if they   
   weren't already, her dancing so seductively, his cock   
   now swollen and thick and hard under the covers for   
   her. He stared at her lovely round little breasts her   
   nipples pushing out through the thin cotton tee, and   
   when he did, Jill pushed her chest out, wanted him to   
   look.   
      
   He'd only been to a strip club twice and back when he   
   was in college, and even then, he intellectualized the   
   experience he'd laughed with friends years later   
   telling the story; and here was his little girl   
   dancing, like his own private little stripper right in   
   front of him, even so young so sexually provocatively   
   gorgeous, everything about her sensuous, erotic,   
   wholly female and in heat and looking him deeply in   
   the eyes made him churn with desire a growl rumbling   
   deep in his chest.   
      
   His little girl was making him hard and the harder he   
   got the more he looked at her like a father shouldn't   
   be looking at his daughter.   
      
   When she jumped onto the bed above him she could have   
   been twelve bouncing and turning; he laughed with her   
   trying not to be so aroused, to look at her smooth   
   bare skin, her loose boy-shorts hiding her little   
   treasure she knew full well the power of, trying to   
   not look at her shorts lifting again and again subtly,   
   furtively revealing her soft bare translucent skin   
   underneath.   
      
   Teasing him with glimpses of her, her inner thighs,   
   the round of her little bottom, a single father, when   
   she began rolling her little hips moving to the steady   
   beat of the rhythm, gyrating, churning inside, biting   
   her lower lip and smiling at him knowing just how sexy   
   she was, he felt himself even if a little   
   uncomfortable let himself feel that sexual urge, began   
   to watch his little girl openly, her dance for him,   
   him her only audience in the privacy of their house,   
   in the privacy of his bedroom.   
      
   He stared openly at the V of her groin her jostling   
   breasts her hardened nipples, into her smoldering   
   eyes, longer and longer. He looked at her soft little   
   frame her smooth belly the way she moved, so naturally   
   feminine, so naturally erotic and lowered the paper   
   fully into his lap to cover himself, to press against   
   his straining throbbing hard cock without her seeing.   
      
   He thought of the scene in Gus Van Sant's, "To Die   
   For," when Nicole Kidman in a short little flowery   
   summer dress danced in front of the car headlights.   
   Lifting her skirt, showing her panties, swiveling her   
   hips, a scene that stuck with him over the years as   
   one of the all time most erotic scenes in Hollywood   
   film, her beautifully feminine thighs, her girlish   
   tummy, the cleft of her soft little pussy apparent   
   under her girlish white cotton panties.   
      
   Now, his little-girl, rocking her hips, him staring at   
   her soft little baby pussy barely concealed under her   
   thin little shorts, her curves so incredibly sensual,   
   his little baby dancing for him; from his prone   
   position it was like looking up at a stripper on a   
   stage, from that angle seeing up under her loose   
   little shorts, the bare smooth heat of her inner   
   thighs. Her knowingly teasing, glimpses of his   
   daughter's bare smooth glowing little pussy so clearly   
   visible under the thin soft fabric.   
      
   The more he stared, the more he let himself enjoy her   
   performing for him, the more he thought things he   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)