She's Asking For It

My daughter's been a naughty girl lately. Ever since she turned eighteen a month ago, she's been dressing like a common gutter whore. Short skirts, low-cup tops that reveal too much of her massive, pointed breasts, thigh-high stockings, no underwear.

I can't believe they let her dress like this at school. Maybe the principal is a horny man who shuts his office door and beats off to his students. I know I would, surrounded by all that fresh pussy every day.

I fear for my daughter's safety, though, because she's naturally very busty. A rapist's wet dream. Last time I jacked off and jizzed into one of her bras, the tag said 32HH. She has positively enormous jugs and seems unable or unwilling to corral them with fabric. She never wears a bra at home, and sometimes I can tell she isn't wearing one when she leaves for school. I assume on those days she has a date after school with some boy. Some lucky boy who gets to suck my daughter's giant breasts. It makes me painfully erect to think about her huge, naked titties in my face and mouth.

I'm not ashamed to admit I want to screw my daughter. I've been watching those tits get bigger and bigger, and I'm tired of jacking off thinking about them. I want the real thing. I want to pull her into my lap and feel her up as I stick my tongue down her throat. I want to make love to those gigantic, soft breasts for hours. I want to suck and fuck her shaved cunt (in my fantasies, it's shaved) until she creams for her daddy. I want to plow her up the ass with my fat prick.

But I don't have the nerve to make a move. What if she recoils at the thought of incest? What if she stops going braless around the house? What if she goes to live with her mother?

At that very moment, an idea popped into my mind and my cock grew instantly hard. I slipped into her bedroom and selected a white, huge-cupped lace bra from her drawer. She wouldn't be home for hours, time enough for me to cum in this bra five times if I wanted to.

As an afterthought, I strode across the room to my daughter's closet and began rifling through her laundry basket. Jackpot. I found the lacy white g-string that matched the bra I was holding. It was a tiny slip of fabric and it smelled of sweet, tangy pussy. My daughter's pussy. I sat on the edge of her bed, laid the big bra next to me, brought the panties to my nose, and breathed in. Heaven. The only thing better would be having her actual cunt in my face, slippery and drooling.

As I began stroking my oversized cock, the idea I'd had a few moments earlier started turning into a plan.

*****

Over dinner, I broached the subject of her attire. "Honey, I need to talk to you about something," I said. She sat across the table from me, wearing short shorts and a paper-thin white tank top with no bra underneath. I could see the outline of her nipples through the fabric, and I couldn't believe how high up they were. This was the perkiest set of gigantic jugs I'd ever seen, and I only fuck big-titty women. Even unsupported, they shot out from her chest like twin missiles, without a trace of sag. My dick began to harden, just like it always did when she dressed like this.

"This isn't easy for me, honey, but with your mom and I being divorced, and you living here with me, well, I have to say some things that normally moms would say. I'm not trying to embarrass you, sweetheart. I just want us to have a chat."

She nodded, looking curious, her breasts wobbling slightly. "What is it, Daddy?" she asked, innocent as all get-out.

"I need to talk to you about the way you dress, honey," I said, then paused to let that sink in. Her cheeks turned pink and she looked down at her plate. "It's just...lately, you've been wearing very revealing clothes to school. Now, I don't care what you wear around the house, but I don't think you should go in public looking like a streetwalker."

Her face was flushed red at this point; she was clearly embarrassed. She didn't speak.

"Here's the thing, sweetheart," I continued. "You need to understand something about men. When men see girls dressed like you dress, they assume you're asking for sex. And men can't be expected to help themselves in the presence of a well-developed young lady such as yourself. A young lady with such enormous...assets."

My daughter's eyes had widened as she blushed. She pushed her food around on her plate. "Really, Daddy? There are men who would...make me have sex with them? Just because of how I dress?"

"Yes, sweetheart, that's exactly right. Men rape girls who dress like you. All the time. And I don't want my sweet daughter getting raped. I can't imagine what I'd do if some cruel man grabbed you in the dark and ripped off all your slutty clothes and forced his penis inside you. Into all of your holes." Her eyes went round as saucers when I emphasized all. She knew I was talking about her little inexperienced butthole.

"It's not even their fault when they rape you. It's yours," I went on. I was rock-hard, all ten inches of my prick were straining painfully against the fabric of my slacks. "Wearing clothes that show off your body, that's like advertising that you want sex. This is particularly true for you, because of your gigantic breasts, your small waist, and your cute little bottom. Men can't help themselves around girls with bodies like yours. Do you understand?"

My daughter nodded. I could tell she was a little bit angry and more than a little bit embarrassed. "Okay, Daddy. Whatever you say. May I be excused?" she asked. I gave her permission to leave, and she spun around haughtily and left the kitchen. I watched her perfect round ass wiggle in her short shorts. I could see the sides of her fat tits swaying even from this vantage point.

I got up, walked over to the kitchen sink, pulled my raging hard-on out of my pants and blasted a big load all over the dishes in the sink.

*****

A week later, my daughter hadn't changed one thing about how she was dressing. In fact, I could've sworn her tops had gotten even more revealing and her shorts and skirts even shorter. She looked just as slutty as ever, if not sluttier. It made me slightly angry, even though this was exactly what I had hoped for. I guess girls will be girls. I just wished she respected me enough to follow my orders. But no worries. I'd soon be teaching her a lesson she would never forget.

It was Monday night around dusk when I set my plan in motion. Earlier, at work, I'd jerked off four times in the men's room, thinking about what I'd be doing to my daughter later. And no matter how much I jerked it, my cock stayed rock-hard all day. Fortunately, I managed to stay hidden behind my desk.

Mondays are when I usually meet up at a local sports bar for beers and football with some of my buddies. I was going to be late meeting them tonight, though. I had some business to tend to first. I crept around the house gathering the supplies I'd need into a small duffel bag—duct tape from the garage, a black ski mask from my closet, a canister of Crisco from the pantry, a small knife from the butcher block. When I was all ready, I called up the stairs to remind my daughter of my plans to hit the bar.

"Okay, Daddy!" she yelled, without appearing. "Have a good time. I'm going to go for a run in the park later, but I'll be home before you are." Before I had a chance to say it, she added, "I promise I'll be careful, Daddy."

I left in my car, but I didn't go to the bar. Instead, I drove straight to the nearby park where my daughter liked to run. It was full-dark by then, and I found a shadowy place to park down the street. It was very important that she didn't see my car.

Duffel bag in hand, I headed to the playground on the edge of the park. It was situated around the exit of the running trails my daughter used. The park was completely deserted, as usual. I had been counting on that.

I went straight for the big, hollow cylinders near the jogging trail. There were six of them, made of brightly-painted cement. They were sturdy and stationary. They typically served as a little hiding spot or clubhouse for the kids in the neighborhood. Not tonight, I thought. Tonight this one's gonna be Daddy's rape shed. I ducked and lowered myself to my knees, entering the tube nearest the jogging path.

*****

I sat in the tube with my cock in my hand, stroking it slowly, imagining the moment I'd get to see my daughter's mammoth breasts for the first time.

I knew my daughter's routine. She went around the running trails three times every time she ran, without fail. She'd measured it as four miles, and she ran it every night. No wonder her ass won't quit, I thought, sitting with my back against the rounded cement wall.

Eventually I heard fast footsteps emerging from the running path, and once they'd passed by the tube where I was hiding, I dared to peek out into the darkness. It was her. I could tell by the blonde ponytail and the all-white jogging outfit.

My cock grew even harder. I stroked it loosely as I waited several minutes for her to pass a second time, and when she did, I stopped jacking off and started getting ready for her next pass-by. I made sure my big, hard cock and cum-heavy balls were both completely exposed through the open zipper of my dark jeans. I reached into my duffel bag and produced the contents one at a time, my cock twitching in anticipation with each one. I removed the lid from the Crisco, ripped two lengths of duct tape off the roll, and pulled the ski mask over my head so that only my eyes, nose, and mouth were visible.

That's when I heard her coming. I was suddenly nervous; my hands were sweating and my heart was racing. But my dick was still throbbing for her, and my dick always wins. As she passed by, I lunged up from my kneeling position and ran toward her as fast as I could. She didn't even have time to scream before I'd grabbed her from behind and slapped my hand over her mouth. I pressed my knife against her throat. She went limp and began to whimper as I dragged her back to my secret spot.

I shoved her into the tube before me and pushed her face-down on the concrete floor. "If you scream, bitch, I will fucking kill you," I said gruffly, lowering my voice substantially so as to disguise it and placing the knife next to her so she could see it. She blubbered and panted as I held her down and bound her wrists together behind her back with one of the lengths of duct tape. Then I pulled her head back far enough to reach around and cover her mouth with the other piece. Now I was in total control. My daughter lay prone before me. Just as I'd imagined it.

"You know what you're about to get, don't you, slut?" I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. I smacked each of her asscheeks hard. "You've been asking for this for months. I see you every day, walking to school in those slutty fucking outfits with those huge fucking titties bouncing for all the world to see. Sluts with titties like yours need cock bad. Isn't that right?" I pulled her head back roughly by her ponytail so I could see her answer. She nodded obediently, tears streaming from her big blue eyes.

"First things first, bitch," I whispered into her ear. "Roll the fuck over, onto your back." She did as she was told, and when she was situated, I marveled at how her epic breasts jutted up toward the ceiling, not at all restrained by the flimsy sports bra she had on. I yanked her top up and used the knife to cut the sports bra open in the front. Her titties sprung forth, twin pink nipples pointing straight up, her breasts rising up more than a foot from her small body.

I admired them for several long moments, squeezing the fleshy orbs with my hands, pinching her nipples between my fingers. Most women with huge tits have the same problem—when you lie on your back, they flop to the side. This was not the case with my slut daughter. Her magnificent fuck-cannons maintained their shape beautifully, reminding me of two ripe, juicy watermelons. I love melon.

I leaned forward and squeezed her tits together as hard as I could, then spent a few minutes sucking her little nipples and drooling all over her big rack. I slapped her titties and watched the undulate and wobble, I bit her nipples and reveled in the sound of her whimpering, and I sucked her tittyflesh so hard I gave her several hickeys. I must've played with those massive things for half an hour. I almost came three times without even touching my cock.

When I finally ceased my breast-worshipping, I looked up at my daughter's face. Her eyes were closed and she didn't seem to be crying anymore. In fact...did she look...aroused? Surely not. But she certainly didn't look as scared as before.

"Roll back over, cunt," I commanded in my disguised voice. "Time to give you what you've been begging for." Once she was on her tummy again, I pulled her jogging shorts down to her knees and admired her ass in its slutty little black g-string. I wondered how many boys had gotten to see this g-string. I had a feeling there'd been a few. I used the knife to cut it off, and suddenly my daughter was stark naked, except for the t-shirt pushed up around her neck and her socks and running shoes.

I groaned. Jesus, her ass might've been even hotter than her tits were. I slapped the supple flesh of one asscheek, then the other, then I positioned myself on my knees behind her, between her legs. I spread her cheeks apart with my thumbs. Through the darkness I could see the soft pucker of my daughter's tiny little rosebud. I touched it gently for a moment, then ran my finger down her crack to her pussy. I was shocked to dip my finger between her plump labia and find major wetness there. I chuckled and scooped some of the cream out of her cunt, and began rubbing it into her anus.

Before long I was assfucking my daughter with two of my fingers as she squirmed and writhed before me. I could tell she'd never had anything up her ass and I was very excited to be the first. After a few minutes, I withdrew my fingers and reached for the Crisco, scooping out a generous amount and slathering it all over her asshole first, then my ten-inch rod. It was time to penetrate my lovely daughter and teach her the lesson I'd come here to teach.

She whimpered loudly and began shaking her head furiously when she felt me press my cockhead against her virgin anus, but the last thing I was going to do now was stop. I pressed a little harder and moved my body so that it was covering hers, my mouth in her ear. I pushed my dick into her hole enough so that the head of my cock popped all the way in. I could feel her bound hands against my torso. "Take this, bitch," I growled, and rammed my big prick up her tight-as-fuck ass. "Be quiet, slut," I said, sensing her pain, wondering how much noise she could make with the tape over her mouth. "Any loud noises and I'll cut you up."

My sexy slut of a daughter whined and groaned and writhed around as I pulled my cock almost all the way out of her butthole and slammed it back in again. It felt amazing. I've never had my cock in such a tight little fuck tunnel, and I've fucked loads of ass. I stuffed my daughter's young butt without mercy that night, each thrust pounding home the lesson I was trying to teach her. Girls who dress like whores get raped like whores.

She sobbed into the duct tape as I assraped her. I didn't last very long. She was too tight for me to hold back, and after about 20 good solid strokes, I blasted a load of hot jizz all the way up her ass. Gasping, I kept buttfucking her until my dick was totally soft, then I moved back onto my knees to watch my cum drip out of her asshole. It was a beautiful sight. I couldn't believe I'd just filled my daughter's ass with my cum.

"There you go, bitch. That's what you get," I whispered. "Watch your back, because your ass is tight as hell and I might want more of it. If I see you again dressed like a slut, I'm gonna fucking rape you again." With that, I put my cock back in my pants and reached forward to rip the tape off her wrists. "Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna run home, just like you always do. Straight home. No stops, no phone calls. You're gonna keep this little tryst between the two of us. If you don't I will hurt you. Got it?" She nodded into the floor.

I pulled her head back and ripped the duct tape off her mouth. She was crying, but not as much as I'd expected her to. She rose to her knees and I watched as she pulled her shorts back up and pulled her top back down over her massive ripe melons. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought she was dressing herself rather seductively. She pulled her top down very slowly, giving me a hot little show. She didn't seem very scared anymore.

On impulse, I grabbed my daughter's head and pulled her face to mine. Through the mouth hole in the ski mask, I crushed my lips against hers and French-kissed her pretty little mouth deeply. She didn't even fight it. In fact, several moments in, I felt her tongue timidly begin to swirl with mine. Her eyes were closed, too. I wondered if she was doing that because she was afraid not to, or if she genuinely wanted to kiss her rapist. I found I didn't really care.

Eventually I cut the kiss off, and she wavered on her knees a bit. Her cheeks were bright pink. She looked beautiful. "Go," I commanded. "Straight home, remember. I will be following you, and if you veer off-path, I will make you wish you'd never been born." She nodded and scooted quickly out of the tube. I watched as she ran away, but I didn't really follow her. I sat there with her cut-up bra and panties in my hand, already reliving every delicious moment as I packed my supplies back into the duffel. I added the bra and panties. Then I made myself wait five minutes, after which I emerged from the tube and set out for my car. Time to meet the guys for a few pitchers.

*****

When I saw my daughter the next morning, she was in a fantastic mood, bouncing and bubbling her way around the kitchen, making me breakfast. She kissed me on the cheek when she saw me, and I had to sit down to hide my growing boner.

I was completely taken aback by her outfit. I'd never seen her in anything so slutty. She wore a plaid schoolgirl skirt that barely covered her ass and a white-button down shirt that was unbuttoned and tied under her big rack. Under the shirt was a bright red lace bra, which pushed her massive titties up and together like a shelf. I had jerked off and cum into the cups of that bra a number of times. (I always just put them back into her drawer, savoring the knowledge that my dried jizz would soon be in contact with her big tits). Her midriff was exposed, too. Over-the-knee bobby socks and black Mary Janes completed the ensemble. When she got up and bent over to get something from the fridge, I realized she was pantyless.

God, I wanted to fuck her asscheeks like they were tits, then fuck her tits and jizz down her throat.

We sat down to breakfast, and I just had to bring up her outfit. "Honey, I thought we talked about this. I don't want you getting raped and it's going to happen if you insist on dressing like that. All the boys at school, and the teachers. Someone's going to get the wrong impression and take advantage of you."

"Well, Daddy, that's their prerogative. This is how I want to dress and I'm willing to accept the consequences. I'm eighteen now; you can't tell me what to do." She smiled and winked at me, and I wondered what sort of game she was playing. Did she...want to get raped again? Had she enjoyed it?

"Oh, Daddy, by the way. Just so you know, I'm going to be doing more running in the park from now on. At least six times around the trail, every night. I need to keep in shape for when I leave for college!" I just shrugged and grinned at her. She wanted more, the busty little hussy. And who was I to deny her?