Daddy’s Angel

by Pan

When my daughter turned eighteen, she went through a growth spurt. All of a sudden, she had the body of a woman. But even through her body's changes, she was still completely innocent—she'd never shown any interest in the opposite sex, never had a boyfriend.

Hell, I don't think she'd ever been kissed!

And, of course, I never let her development change the way I treated her. She was still the sweet, innocent girl I'd raised. The perfect little angel that I'd looked after for her entire life.

So you can imagine the surprise I got when I came home to find her lying on the couch, eyes closed, moaning loudly, hand between her legs.

Had it been anyone else, I would have said that she was masturbating. In fact, that was my immediate thought in this situation—but she must have sensed my presence because her eyes shot open, and as she gazed into my eyes, I realized I was mistaken.

I couldn't believe I'd misinterpreted what she was doing. There obviously had to be an explanation for what was happening.

"I… hurt my hand," Amanda said breathily. Her eyes were still burning into mine; I felt like I couldn't look away.

Then she blinked, and I could suddenly relax.

"Oh darling," I said, rushing to kneel beside her on the couch. "Are you okay?"

"No, Daddy," she said, sticking her lip out in a pout— just as she used to when she was little. "I have a boo-boo."

Such childish language from a busty eighteen-year-old would have sounded odd had it been anyone else. But with her, it was perfectly appropriate. After all, no matter what she looked like, I was still her Daddy, and she was still my little girl.

"You do?" I said, taking her wrist in my hand and examining her fingers. "Does this hurt?"

Amanda shook her head. "Kiss it better?" she asked, and of course I obliged.

As I held her hand to my mouth, I couldn't help but smell it—the aroma wasn't one that I'd encountered for many years, but you never forget it.

It was the scent of a woman's juices.

Every parent knows it's impossible to keep your child's hands out from between their legs, and even though Amanda was eighteen, she was clearly no exception. I knew she wouldn't be masturbating, of course—she was far too innocent for that. But her hand had clearly been 'exploring' when I'd entered the room.

I cast the thought aside and kissed my daughter's hand better. Her digits lingered near my mouth, and when I opened it to ask what she needed, two of her fingers slipped inside and pressed down on my tongue.

I didn't want to make a big deal of it—it must have just been an accident—but I did raise an eyebrow as I gently took her hand and pulled it away from my mouth.

That was when she gave me another look, and I suddenly realized what was really going on.

"It's not your hand that hurts at all, is it?" I asked, and Amanda… well, for a second, a grin appeared on her face, but it was quickly replaced by a somber look as she shook her head back and forth.

"No, Daddy," she sighed. "I can't lie to you. I was just using my hand to check where the pain really was."

Had it been anyone else in my life, I would've immediately suggested they visit the hospital. I'm not a doctor, after all: pain in the groin area could be any one of a million things.

But… well, this was my darling daughter. If something was seriously wrong, I had to do whatever I could, as quickly as possible.

"Okay, honey,” I said, staring her in the eyes. "Let Daddy take a look at it."

Coming from anyone else, the noise my daughter made would've suggested excitement at getting to show off their body, but I knew there was no way that's what was happening here. Perhaps it was a whimper of pain as she stood up, or just the sound of relief that she was getting help.

“Uh, darling… what are you doing??" I asked as my daughter took off not only her pants and underwear but her shirt and bra as well. The way she undressed was… well, one could have interpreted it as a strip tease, except, of course, Amanda wouldn't even have known what that was.

All too soon, she was naked. I would say 'naked as the day she was born', but I’d been there on the day she was born, and this couldn’t have been more different. I knew my daughter’s body had changed in the last year or two, but I was still shocked by the sight in front of me.

Her breasts were a perfect pair of huge (yet firm) tits, capped with two of the largest nipples I'd ever seen. Amanda's mother had large breasts, but her nipples had been tiny things. Amanda's nipples were so large, I couldn't help but stare.

Her pussy was shaved bare, and her clit was swollen. Had it been a random woman, I would've sworn that she was aroused, but I knew that my young lady wasn’t even capable of that.

"What do you mean, Daddy?" Amanda asked. "You said to take my clothes off."

"Yes, but not all your clothes."

"Why not? You've seen me naked a thousand times before."

I wanted to explain to her that I hadn’t seen her since she’d… ‘grown up.’ But it would've felt wrong to tell someone so innocent how others—not me, of course—would react to her body.

"Right, you're right," I said, clearing my throat. "I'll just… um…"

Amanda dropped to the couch and spread her legs. The smell from her fingers was now filling the room, and I couldn't help but breathe it in each time I inhaled.

"Do you see anything, Daddy?" she asked, staring right at me.

I didn't really have a choice— I had to do anything I could to help my daughter, after all— so I knelt down in front of her and moved my face closer to her groin.

The smell of her juices was so strong that it made me worry that something was seriously wrong with her. Someone should only be this wet if they were incredibly turned on, but that obviously wasn’t the case here.

"No, baby," I said, shaking my head and trying to be clinical. "I don't see anything. Where is the pain?"

Amanda moved her hand down and ran her finger around her clit, massaging it back and forth several times. I swear, it looked exactly like she was masturbating. I had to keep reminding myself that this was my sweet little girl, and she had no idea what she was doing.

"Daddy, the pain's right here," she said, pointing at her clit. "Can you feel it?"

My eyes widened, but of course, Amanda had no way of understanding how inappropriate that request would be to anyone who wasn't a doctor. So, against all my instincts as a father, I reached out and took her swollen nub between my thumb and forefinger and gently began rubbing it, hoping to relieve the anguish she was feeling.

Amanda's eyes went wide, and her breathing deepened. Her chest rose and fell with each gasp.

"Yes," she said, a small smile crossing her face. "Like that. Can you feel it, Daddy?"

It was notably swollen, but I couldn't feel anything physically wrong with it. "No," I said. "Honey, I don't know what's wrong. Are you sure this is where the problem is?"

"Of course, Daddy," Amanda said, looking me right in the eyes. "That and… inside me."

"Inside you?" I asked, and Amanda reached down to guide me. I opened my mouth to object as she moved my pointer and middle fingers toward her slit, but then I remembered— I needed to do anything I could to help her.

Anything.

My daughter’s inner walls clenched and tightened around my fingers as I pushed them deeper, and soon, I was in all the way to my knuckles. She must have been in so much pain, the poor dear— that was why her legs and hips were shifting back and forth.

Well, there was one other possible reason, but obviously, that couldn't be it.

"Can you feel it?" she asked again, her voice deep.

"Mm-hmm," I asked. "I mean, no."

"Keep exploring, Daddy," Amanda said with a loud moan, and I did. My fingers ran across her inner walls, exploring, searching for the problem.

I curled my fingers and must have hit something because her hips suddenly bucked.

"Oh!" she cried. Her other hand was rubbing her clit again, and her mouth was open, her face holding an expression that I could only interpret as distress.

"Is there anything I can do?" I asked, the words spilling from my mouth as soon as I saw her suffering.

"Kiss it better?" she asked. I wanted to object, to tell her that there was no need, that it would, in fact, be deeply inappropriate… but then I'd have to explain why. After all, I’d just kissed her fingers better — how do you tell an innocent young lady the difference between kissing her finger better and kissing her between her lips?

I couldn’t. I couldn't bear the thought of her feeling even an iota of embarrassment. After all, my daughter was still my sweet, innocent little angel.

I couldn't believe what was about to happen, but there was no way I was going to refuse my anguished daughter’s request. It would have been cruel to deny her this simple, basic comfort.

I leaned forward and gave a quick, chaste kiss to her clit. In response, Amanda gasped loudly. My eyes immediately moved to her face— I was worried that I'd somehow hurt her—but I was relieved to see her smiling and nodding down at me.

"More, Daddy," she asked. "Please?"

I leaned forward and kissed her again, slower this time. "Oh, fuck, yes!" she moaned, and for a moment, I was surprised to hear my little girl curse. How had she picked up a word like that?

Perhaps I'd let out a similar expletive after receiving good news, and she'd assumed it was something one said when they were feeling particularly happy.

When she was feeling better, I’d have to talk with her about it. Obviously, she had no idea what she was saying, and I couldn’t stand the idea of her embarrassing herself.

But at that moment, I had a much more pressing concern: my little girl was suffering, and only I could help her.

I leaned forward and kissed her again. My fingers continued exploring, trying to find what was hurting her. I didn't stop, even as she swore and thanked me and reached down to grab my hair, forcing my entire face into her pussy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh god, oh fuck," she moaned, as her hands pressed against the back of my head, pushing my lips even tighter against her wet folds.

"FUUUUCK!!!" she screamed, and the juices that I'd been smelling exploded into my mouth.

In every way, it exactly resembled an orgasm, but I knew that couldn't be what was happening. It couldn’t be.

Daddy's kisses were just helping her feel better.

Her hands were fists in my hair as she shook and squirted all over my face. It felt like her body was wracked with convulsions.

"FUCK!" she yelled again, her entire body shuddering as her pussy clenched tightly around my fingers. Her tits bounced up and down in a way that, on anyone else, would've been the sexiest thing in the world, but on my daughter just made me smile. Even naked, writhing in pleasure at how much I’d helped with her boo-boo, my daughter was the epitome of cute. I loved her so much.

Amanda’s hands eventually relaxed, and her body went limp, slumping against the couch. She was breathing heavily, and I pulled away, wiping my mouth.

"Are you feeling better, sweetie?" I said, and my daughter shot me a weak smile.

”So much better, Daddy,“ she replied.

I sat next to her on the couch and stroked her hair, the way I'd done a thousand times when she was growing up, trying to ignore the fact that she was naked. Or that her huge breast was resting against my arm.

"So, was that all you needed, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy," she sighed happily before pulling back and staring at me with an odd look in her eyes.

"Of course," she cooed, "I should return the favor…"

"Oh, darling," I smiled. My beautiful angel had no idea what she was inadvertently offering. "That's really not necessary."

"Why not?" she pouted, and I struggled to narrow down my response to just one reason.

"Well," I eventually said. "Daddy's not sore… down there"

"Aren't you?" she asked, and my eyes widened as she reached between my legs and grasped my erection.

The skill with which her hand was instantly able to encircle my shaft— even through my pants!—made me think for a moment that it was something she'd done before, many times. But her eyes caught mine, and I was reminded: my daughter was completely innocent. It must have been an unlucky accident.

Even if her eyes did look like they were darkening with lust. It must have just been… concern.

"But you're so swollen."

My mouth went dry at the idea of explaining to my daughter why Daddy's 'thingy' (as she'd called it, back in the innocent days when we bathed together) was 'swollen'. None of it would make sense to her… and frankly, I was quite shocked to learn that I was turgid.

Obviously, I wasn't attracted to my daughter. Anyone else would be— her huge breasts were perfectly shaped, her legs were long and smooth, and on any other body in the world I would've considered her ass the stuff of legends—but she was my daughter, and I simply didn't see her in that way.

But apparently, my dick didn't know that, and sticking my tongue between her legs and watching her pant and gasp with pleasure had caused a (completely involuntary, to be clear!) erection.

Before I could come up with an excuse as to why I was hard, Amanda was undoing my belt and pulling my pants down, allowing my member to spring into view.

"I know what to do," she said, staring me right in the eyes.

"Honey, you can't," I protested, but I was too late. Amanda, in a naïve attempt to kiss me better, dropped to her knees between my legs and wrapped her lips around the tip of my cock.

You must understand: I tried to stop her. But she was gripping my legs so firmly, I worried that if I moved too suddenly, my dick could poke her in the eye, or I’d hurt her some other way. And that was the last thing I wanted.

"Mmm, you taste so good, Daddy," she said, licking her lips, before diving back down onto my shaft. I watched in horror as my little girl took several inches of my shaft into her mouth, sucking gently, while her tongue swirled around the head.

Amanda was giving head like a porn star. Obviously, I wasn't enjoying it—she was my daughter! She had no idea what she was doing!

She didn’t know what she was doing intellectually, I mean. Skill-wise… well, it was the best blowjob I'd ever received in my life.

It took me a moment to reconcile my daughter's virginal nature with the skill with which she was fellating me until I solved it: she obviously didn't know anything about erect penises… but Amanda has always loved lollipops.

She was treating my dick like a lollipop, and in combination with her plump lips and complete lack of gag reflex, that just happened to be a perfect way to deliver the world's most incredible blowjob.

I just hoped she wouldn't bite down

"Fuck, honey," I moaned, despite myself. She pulled back for a moment, a trail of spit connecting her lips to the head of my dick.

"How does this feel, Daddy?" she asked, looking up at me, a look of concern in her eyes. "Am I doing okay?"

"We have to stop," I gasped, even as my hand rested on the top of her head. "Baby, this is wrong…"

"I can do better," she said earnestly, reminding me of how seriously she'd always taken life, and before I could pull her off me, she was redoubling her efforts.

As my daughter blew me, I noticed she had one hand between her legs.

"Honey, are you hurting down there again?" I asked, but she didn't respond, just continued taking my cock deeper and deeper down her throat.

I don't have the largest cock in the world, but I've received compliments in my time—especially on its length—so I was genuinely shocked when Amanda was able to take the entire thing down her throat, a feat that no other woman has managed to achieve.

"Oh god," I groaned.

I was getting close. My body was tingling, and my balls were churning.

I had to stop her. Everything we'd done so far had been a simple miscommunication, but if she brought me to orgasm and I finished in her mouth…

"Honey, honey, stop, I'm gonna…"

I tried to push her away, but I was too late. Her throat muscles clenched and tightened around my dick, and my orgasm was upon me.

My head lolled back against the couch and I grabbed my daughter's head with both hands, holding her in place as my cock erupted down her throat.

She didn't flinch, didn't pull back—her eyes stayed open and locked onto mine the entire time, as though she was determined not to miss a second of the show.

As my orgasm subsided and my body slumped back against the couch, Amanda pulled back, gasping for air, a huge smile on her face.

"I helped, Daddy," she said.

I opened my mouth to berate her, but couldn't bring myself to do it. If any of what we'd done had been deliberate, it would have been a mortal sin— the worst thing that a man could do with his daughter.

But, of course, it had just been an accident. A series of miscommunications caused (and exacerbated) by my daughter’s innocence.

I just had to ensure that it never, ever happened again.