House Arrest With Daddy

Audrey Reynolds sat rigid on the hard wooden chair in the dining room as the monitoring technician clamped the sleek black ankle monitor around her slender ankle. The device clicked shut with a finality that made her stomach twist. Tears welled in her deep blue eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Eighteen months of house arrest for possession of a controlled substance—psychedelics she had carelessly left in a cigarette pack during a DUI checkpoint after graduating university with honors. No jail time, thanks to her clean record and the fact that the judge had known her late mother, Deena, who had served as a prosecutor before breast cancer claimed her a year earlier.

Her father, James, stood over her, broad-shouldered and solid at six-foot-three and just under two hundred ten pounds of hard-earned muscle from years of weekend weight training. Thick brown hair cut short, dark blue eyes that mirrored hers, a chest still dusted with dark hair that had once earned him the childhood nickname “Daddy-bear.” He rested a large hand on her shoulder, rubbing gently through the soft flannel of his shirt.

“You’re lucky, Princess. Jail would have been far worse.”

Audrey turned into him, burying her tear-streaked face against his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of soap and faint cologne. “I know, Daddy. I’m so sorry.”

The technician finished the paperwork and left. The monitor was smaller than either of them expected—watch-sized, not cumbersome—but its presence was absolute. No leaving the property except for scheduled check-ins and medical appointments. James owned a successful insurance agency twenty minutes away and could work from his home office as needed. He had already decided he would spend more days at home to keep her company.

Audrey was twenty-one, petite and elfin with long straight blonde hair, toned legs, a narrow waist, perky C-cup breasts that sat high and firm, and a perfectly rounded ass that had always drawn eyes. She had inherited her mother’s legs and eyes, but the curve of her hips and the way her body moved belonged to her alone. After Deena’s death she had drifted into parties and casual sex during her senior year, none of it satisfying. The boys at college had been average at best. She had never felt truly filled, never experienced the stretch and fullness her body secretly craved. Moving back home two weeks after graduation and then getting arrested had stranded her in a house with the one man whose presence had begun to stir something forbidden and electric.

The first two weeks settled into routine. Audrey cleaned, cooked, organized, worked on her resume. James came home early whenever possible. They watched movies in the converted den—thick blackout curtains, eighty-inch screen, surround sound, a long deep leather couch. At first the movies were ordinary. Then one night James returned from the office to find Audrey curled tightly at the far end of the couch in tiny shorts, light still on, browser history suspiciously empty of the gardening sites she claimed to have been researching.

Later that night, after she went to bed, he checked the history himself. Lingerie. Body lotion. “Hung Boyfriend.” Porn. His cock stirred instantly. He understood the loneliness. He had battled it himself after Deena. He pulled up a video of a busty realtor and a client, then another of a young wife and her father-in-law. Within minutes his thick nine-inch cock was out, heavy and veined, the broad head already glistening. He stroked slowly on the couch, the giant screen making every wet sound and flash of skin larger than life. He came hard, ropes of thick cum striping his chest and stomach, thinking not of the actresses but of the way Audrey’s shorts had ridden up earlier, the shadow between her thighs.

Audrey had barely closed the browser in time when he walked in. She had been rubbing her clit through the thin fabric, soaked, imagining a cock thick enough to stretch her properly. The fantasy had shifted lately. It had become her father. She had seen the outline in his shorts once when he stretched. Thick. Heavy. The thought of that weight between her legs made her cunt clench.

The next morning she tested him. She chose the shortest orange shorts she owned—material so tight it disappeared into the crack of her ass, leaving both cheeks fully exposed—and a thin white tank that clung to her small firm tits and showed the exact shape of her puffy pink nipples. No bra. Bare feet. She carried fresh coffee to his home office, hips swaying deliberately.

James spun in his chair. The sight hit him like a fist. His cock jumped to full hardness so fast it ached. Those long smooth legs, the deep valley of her ass, the way the tank dragged across her stiff nipples. He followed her to the kitchen without thinking. She bent at the dishwasher, feet planted wide, shorts riding higher until the lower curves of her cheeks and the faint outline of her pussy lips pressed against the fabric. He stood in the doorway, staring, cock throbbing, any thought of telling her to change evaporating.

She wore the outfit all day. At dinner she felt his eyes on her every time she turned. That night she changed into a thin white T-shirt that ended just above the curve of her ass and tight boy-short panties. On the couch during a Bond movie she curled with knees to chest, crotch facing him. When he rose to fetch a remote he saw the puffy mound clearly outlined, smooth, no hair. She smiled to herself.

After she went to bed she waited ten minutes, then crept back. The media room glowed. James sat on the couch, shorts around his ankles, fist working the massive shaft of his cock. The head was a broad, shiny dome, the slit already wet. Thick veins ran the length. Even soft it would have been impressive; hard it looked almost brutal. Audrey’s mouth watered. She watched the steady pump of his hand, the way the head flared, then slipped away to her room and came twice with three fingers buried in her dripping cunt, whispering “Daddy” into her pillow.

James found the browser history the next night: “daddy and daughter porn.” His cock leaked instantly. He stroked to a video of a young blonde learning about sex from her father on screen—oral lessons, positions, the girl struggling to take a thick cock deep. He came harder than he had in years, painting his chest, the image of Audrey searching those words burned into him.

The teasing escalated. Audrey began wearing less every day—tiny skirts, transparent tanks, no panties under short shorts. She bent, stretched, sat with legs open. James stopped hiding his erections. They watched more porn together. One evening the video featured a petite blonde and a well-hung trainer. Audrey sat with knees up and spread, thin thong vanished between her folds. James’s cock strained so hard against his shorts the outline was obscene. He left the room claiming he needed the bathroom. She followed, found him in the master bedroom, shorts at his ankles, fist flying. She returned to the couch, pushed her thong aside, and fingered her swollen clit openly.

When he returned he froze in the doorway. Audrey’s legs were wide, skirt bunched at her waist, fingers circling her hard little clit, pussy lips open and shiny, the tight pink ring of her asshole visible. She came with her eyes locked on his, hips jerking, soft cries filling the room.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy… I’ve been so horny… is it okay?”

James’s voice was rough. “You’re a woman now. I understand. It’s okay.”

She leapt into his arms. He caught her by the bare cheeks of her ass. She pressed a soft closed-mouth kiss to his lips. That night he slept with a smile for the first time in over a year.

The next morning she moved some of her clothes into his dresser. They began sharing the king-sized bed “just for comfort.” She slept in tiny panties and a thin tank. His cock stayed half-hard most nights from the simple heat of her body beside him.

One afternoon after mutual masturbation on the couch—her legs spread, fingers plunging into her soaked cunt while he stroked his thick cock until he shot ropes across the coffee table and her foot—they both came so hard they were shaking. Audrey crawled into his lap afterward, naked from the waist down, his softening cock pressed against her back, and whispered that she had never felt so satisfied.

The barrier broke the day her high-school friend Allie visited. While Allie scrolled her phone, Audrey casually lifted her skirt and circled her bare, smooth pussy with one finger, flashing her father the entire time. James had to leave the room. Later, after Allie left, Audrey found him napping naked under the covers. She slipped in beside him, also naked, and carefully took his soft cock in her hand. Even flaccid it filled her palm. She stroked until it thickened, then slid under the covers and took the head into her warm wet mouth.

James woke to the wet heat and the soft moans of his daughter sucking him. He lifted the covers. Audrey’s blonde head bobbed, saliva dripping down the thick shaft as she struggled to take more than half. Her tongue swirled the sensitive underside. She looked up, eyes glassy with lust, and kept sucking.

“Princess…” His voice cracked.

She pulled off with a wet pop. “I’ve wanted this so long, Daddy. Your big cock. Please let me.”

He didn’t stop her. She worshipped him—long slow licks from balls to head, sucking the broad tip, taking as much as she could until her eyes watered. When he warned he was close she only sucked harder, hand stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach. He came with a low groan, thick pulses of cum flooding her tongue. She swallowed every drop, moaning, then licked him clean.

That night they didn’t stop at oral. In the dark of his bed she straddled him, guided the thick head to her dripping entrance, and sank down inch by inch. The stretch burned deliciously. She had never taken anything so thick. Her cunt gripped him like a fist. When she finally sat fully impaled, both of them were breathing hard.

“Fuck, Audrey… so tight…”

She rose and fell, slow at first, then faster, grinding her clit against him. He held her narrow hips and thrust up to meet her. The wet sounds of her pussy taking him filled the room. She came first, cunt spasming around his cock, crying out “Daddy!” as the orgasm tore through her. He followed seconds later, flooding her with thick hot cum, holding her down so every pulse stayed inside.