Growing up, I´ve always had a very close bond with my father and received lots of hugs and kisses. I loved him with all my heart, and that hadn´t changed in any way, even though I've gotten older. I´ve always snuggled close to him when we sat together watching TV and being in his warm and reassuring company. I´ve done that for as long as I can remember.

Now that I was eighteen, it was unfortunately not acceptable to be close to your father in the same way as it had been before. I can't possibly be the only one who had experienced this. My mom wasn´t too keen with me being so close to my father, even to this day, but I didn´t care. She must not spoil the best moments for me.

But still, it had affected the way I see my father. My mind was swirling, thinking I was getting too old for this. It might have seemed strange that a girl my age was still lying and snuggling with her father on the sofa. But I loved it so much; it was almost a daily routine throughout my childhood. Why should it change just because I got older? My father's cuddling was the highlight of my day, especially if it had been a long day.

I´ve tried very discreetly to ask some of my friends in my class what their relationship with their father was like. I was pretty surprised when most of them said they did not have a close bond with their father compared to me.

Because of my mother's paranoid thinking, but also the talk of my girlfriends, I somehow became more aware of my father's touches when I lay with him on the couch. It was not something I had noticed before, but somehow, I now did.

This time, when I registered his caress on my legs, thighs, or waist, I became aware of the itchy effect between my legs for the first time, which ended in an unknown pleasure that I had not felt before, at least not with him. I did recognize the feeling; I was, after all, eighteen years old.

When I thought about it more, his gentle caresses on the top of my thighs were starting to feel like that, too. Several times, I noticed that my nipples began to harden and push through the fabric when he touched me. I had to wear a bra to hide my body's reaction from my mother.

Unfortunately, there was one time when I forgot the bra. My mom was not pleased when she discovered my stiff pads through my skimpy top. She scolded Dad, which ended in a more significant argument, which I got away with cheaply, thank God. Instead, I was taught I was getting too old for this sort of thing.

I shook my head at her, shrugged, and went to bed with the idea that she was worried I would take Dad away from her. I could also do that quickly because my father had said long ago that he would go through fire and water for me and even opt out of Mother if necessary. I had also made the silly comment that she could just come and take over my position, but no, she definitely wouldn't! So, it was her fault that I was sitting with my father.

Because my mother pushed my thoughts into motion, I couldn't stop thinking I was just Daddy's little girl. Just as my mother pointed out, I was too old to be cuddled by my father. Even my girlfriends confirmed this, so it must have meant that our close relationship was not just an ordinary father-daughter relationship. No. It had to be more than that!

 The summer season had begun, and on that occasion, I had found my short skirts, which I wore often. They were pretty comfortable to walk in, and they made me feel mega-sexy. It must have been the summer hormones kicking in and playing tricks on me. Lately, I had been extra naughty, teasing my father whenever I could. The classic one was that I would bend over when I ´accidentally´ dropped something. I did it both with the back so that he could view my small rear and the front to show off the cavalcade of my breasts.

Another thing I also did was let his big hands do whatever they wanted when I was sitting on the couch with him. It was always exciting when he stroked my smooth skin. I sensed every movement, not knowing which direction they would take, and closed my eyes when he hit certain parts of my body. Occasionally, I would get chills, and we would giggle when it happened. Dad had started giving me chills more often and had gradually figured out how to provoke them.

He started by caressing my shoulder, slowly moving down my arm and out to my fingertips. Afterward, he reversed his direction, crossing the top of my ribcage to the other shoulder. For some reason, it made me shiver all over when he made his way across my ribcage.

One evening, when my mother happened to walk out of the living room, leaving me and father alone together, I felt his loving touches venture down from my waist and towards the hem of my skirt. It gave me a nerve-wracking rush when I felt his hand run up my dress and follow my thigh extra closely.

I unconsciously bit my lip, closed my eyes, and took an extra deep breath. I opened my eyes again and stared blankly at the television without registering what was happening behind the screen. I waited patiently, sensing every sensation from his rough but warm palm. He came up further, and I swore he reached to the hem of my panty with his fingertips. It was the first time he had moved that far, and I begged and pleaded for his fingers to dig under the edge.

I was afraid to move if a simple movement from me made him want to withdraw his hand hastily. I certainly wouldn't have that. I loved every touch, every caress, and every tingling part of my body that was affected by his touch.

It was too good to be accurate and seemed like a dream come true. I floated on a pink cloud as the soothing spring that twisted like wild tentacles through my body caused all my weight to disappear. I could feel my heartbeat beating harder and faster while my breathing became so heavy that I had to breathe through my mouth.

Muffled sounds of pleasure found their way, and I had to keep my mouth shut not to attract unnecessary attention. A gentle warmth flowed between my legs as he pulled the panty hem down and dug his index finger into the underside.

An excited hiss settled hard in my chest and disappeared like dew before the sun at zero point five; at the exact moment, Father heard my mother enter the living room from the kitchen. He quickly drew his hand to him and hastily and sloppily straightened my skirt to hide the secret antics he had been up to.

Dad subsequently placed his resting hand on my hip again and was excellent at holding the mask with a stiff straight-faced.

On the other hand, I was very puffy with flared red cheeks and shortness of breath. I snuggled extra close to Dad's large chest to hide the revealing features from my mother. She had a cup of tea and some biscuits with her, which she kindly offered us a few when she sat down.

“No thanks,” Dad replied in a tone that resonated with both of us. I looked up at him admiringly, smiling widely, knowing that if he had said yes, we would have had to move apart, which he certainly didn't want to do. It brought a blooming recognition within me that Father wanted me, and he tried to keep me close to him. I fulfilled his wish and hugged my lovely big father-teddy-bear even closer.

A few days later, I drew on paper at my desk. Father calmly knocked on the door, entered cautiously, and explained that Mother had just gone to Grandma's and wouldn't be home again until a few hours later. This led to his suggestion that we could see a movie together in the living room.

"Yes, I would really love that!" was my reply. I was overjoyed when he asked because I always took the initiative when the opportunity arose to lie and cuddle with him. But finally, I experienced the opposite and immediately seized the golden opportunity.

Dad nodded with a smile and disappeared downstairs to get the film ready. Meanwhile, I rushed with full speed towards the large IKEA wardrobe, where I pulled out one of my many skirts to replace my long grey sweatpants. I chose a summer yellow color and was about to put it on when an even naughtier thought crossed my mind.

Biting my lips together, I looked down at myself and the violet-colored panties that hugged my eighteen-year-old vulva. I rocked my hips from side to side and felt a mild breeze of playful rush hit me before I deftly took off my panties. Oh god. I felt SO bad at that moment. Almost naked, I danced and swayed my hips, checking out my slender forms. I looked over my shoulder at my narrow, almost tasteless butt. It had a dull and linear shape that I was unhappy with.

After sighing at my body, I put on the extra short skirt I had found. Once again, I looked in the mirror and tried to summon just a little bit of my self-esteem back again. It dressed me very well, accentuating my hip bones so the flat rear was not so conspicuous.

I hummed contentedly as I entered the living room. Dad asked if I wanted to sit on his lap, and I said a prayer in my head: "THANK YOU, LORD!".

The movie was John Wick, the first in the film series. None of us needed to watch because it was the family's favorite movie, which we knew by heart and had seen countless times.

When we got about twenty minutes into the movie to the scene where Viggo was informed about what his son had done, I felt my father's hand go from my hip down to my bare thigh. He stroked it lovingly and gently. I had laid down in such a position that I could rest my head on his chest and lie half on my side over his lap. One of my arms rested on his groin while my elbow waited for it to feel something stirring under his black cowboy pants.

Over the past month, our relationship had grown even closer and more exploratory. It also resulted in us both becoming more comfortable with each other, more than you could say for many other father-daughter relationships. I was more flirtatious in the teasing way. My father seemed to register, and our relationship meant that he accepted my naughty antics, which would have been swept away immediately under normal circumstances. It eased my heart that I could detach myself from the norms of reality and explore myself and my sexuality.

Father's hand did precisely as last time and slowly drove up my skirt. He then slipped his hand under the soft fabric, and I bit my lips at the exact moment, anxiously waiting for his reaction, when he discovered I wasn't wearing any panties.

When he got far enough up, he fumbled around inquisitively, putting a big, buttery smile on my face. His fumbling movements became almost panicky as he could not find the strap he had found without any problems last time. He stiffened up and went entirely backward when he couldn't find the cotton fabric from my panties. It was a tremendous thrill for me. What would he do now that he no longer had my panty hem to follow?

Dad's fingers stopped, but I didn't want them to stop. I wanted him to go on and show me what he had in mind. I tried to let out a soft moan to get his caressing going again but to no avail. I closed my eyes, sighed, and gathered the courage to make an incredibly daring move. I bit my lip and twisted my body against his groin while my hand rested on the pants right by his crotch. My left leg was straight out, while my right leg was bent and draped over his leg.

Dad continued to caress me up and down my thighs. On the other hand, that was also the only thing that happened. Several times, I tried to make random caresses with my hand to wake his bump to life and hopefully get Dad to retake the initiative and control. But nothing I did worked, and I didn't have the further guts to do what was necessary to keep going.

Finally, when we got halfway through the movie and were close to falling asleep, I woke up abruptly. Dad started his intimate nudges and pushed up my skirt, folding it halfway in the middle. One of my buttocks was exposed, and I immediately reacted with a violent surge of excitement as his sizeable, warm palm gripped and squeezed me tight. I hugged him close and was happy to let him continue his naughty expedition of me for as long as he wanted. I was in seventh heaven, feeling all the pleasurable impulses coursing through my eighteen-year-old body.

His hand caressed over to my other buttock, after which he grabbed the hem of my skirt again and lifted it so that my bottom was completely exposed. I could feel the cool air in the living room between my legs and butt cheeks. I twisted my body longingly for his close touch and pushed my abdomen close to him. I gasped softly, trying hard not to react with a shudder as his hand ran between my legs. The tip of his fingertips came closer and closer to my most private place.

"This is exactly my favorite scene," I said in a light tone. Of course, I talked about my father's venture but wrapped it up by commenting on John Wick on TV. Dad stopped for a brief second, quickly catching the subtle hint.

"Oh yes, my dear, I completely agree," he replied with an extensive and lustful smile.

"I'm glad you agree because it is a wild and exciting scene I´ve been looking forward to for a while," I finished and turned my body a bit by leaning even more into Dad's lap and, at the same time, pushing my right leg and knee up even further. In this position, I could let my bottom out even further so it bristled more in the air and spread my ass cheeks further apart. Dad giggled cheerfully and seemed to read my intentions clearly.

I could suddenly feel the growing bulge under his pants peeking out. Oh my god. The hardness of his cock turned me on so much.

I grew bolder the further his movements approached my young-adult-pussy, causing me to stroke gently with my thumb and forefinger on top of his crotch. Dad's breathing became more apparent, and his heartbeat was as frantic as mine.

"Mhmmm," I hummed loudly when I finally felt his fingers hit my two soothing and touch-desperate labia. It sent an indescribable and lustful thrill through me as his finger reached up and spread them apart. The heat from my entrance twisted through the veins and spread like rings in the water.

My hand clenched around Dad's crotch in response to the golden waves rushing through my body. It wasn't a solid grip as the fabric of his shorts was thick. He let out a violent moan, which drove me even more crazy. He was really into the effect my touches had on him. They seemed to have the same impact his touches had on me.

I opened my eyes and let out a gasp as one of his fingertips reached my opening. It rolled around, getting ready to take a closer look. It was a nerve-wracking moment for me. Just like in a movie, it seemed like time was set in slow motion.

Dad took his time, and it turned me on so much that I gasped when he drilled his way into my vagina. I had been so immeasurably desperate for his penetration that the build-up of my inner desires exploded the second my entrance broke open. It was as if everything went black for me, and I lost control. The pleasure was unbearable, and I doubted whether I could withstand the violent and intense impulses that filled me with stormy delight.

Out of the blue, Dad pulled his hand towards him. The thick finger slipped out of me, and he started making restless movements with his body. I was completely confused by my body's wild reaction and could not decipher why he resigned. A blanket was placed over my bottom as he hurriedly pushed me off his lap so I was lying next to him on the couch. I was about to scold him as I landed wrong and could feel a cramp growing in one of my legs.

"Will someone come and help me carry in?" was shouted from the entrance by mother, who had come home. Worst timing ever, that was!  She had always found the absolute worst time to come home. It was like a bad habit of hers.

What a terrible spectacle if she had busted in on us and seen her dear eighteen-year-old daughter lying half-naked on the sofa with her father. Thank God Dad reacted quickly, put the rug over, and hid the crucial evidence away. I giggled a bit about my thoughts.

When Mother came into the living room, she looked at both of us in astonishment and in no way suspected what we had done. My father's physical affection affected me so much that my mother thought I had just woken up from a nap. When she saw how busy we...