Making Sextape with Daddy

Story Excerpt

I adjust the camera on the tripod, making sure the angle catches the whole bed just right. Light fills every corner of the room. My heart’s pounding a bit. Hell, at forty-five, I still get that rush from this shit.

She’s my daughter, barely legal, and damn, she makes me feel twenty years younger. I hit record, the little red light blinking on. There she is, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at me with those big eyes. Denim shorts so short they barely cover her ass, riding up her thighs like they’re painted on. Tight tank top clinging to her chest, no bra underneath. Her delicious nipples were poking through the thin fabric. Fuck, she’s so perfect.

“Hey, baby,” I say, stepping closer but keeping behind the lens. “Look right at the camera for me. Tell everyone how old you are.”

She bites her lip, a shy smile creeping up, but she knows what I like. “I’m eighteen,” she says, tilting her head a little.

“Eighteen, huh? Fresh as hell.” I chuckle, feeling my cock twitch in my pants already. “You excited for this? Making a little tape just for us?”

Her cheeks flush pink, but she nods, shifting on the bed so her shorts pull tighter. “Yeah, Daddy. I’m excited. Nervous too, but… I want to make you happy.”

That word—Daddy—hits me right in the gut. Makes me harder.

“Good girl. That’s what I like to hear. You ready to show off for me? Start slow. Stand up and turn around, let me see that body.”

She hops up, facing away from the camera first. Her ass fills out those shorts, round and plump, the denim hugging every curve. She glances over her shoulder, winking.” “Like this?”

“Yeah, just like that. Now, peel off that tank top. Nice and slow. Tease me.”

She turns back to face me, her hands grab the hem, lifting it inch by inch. The fabric slides over her flat stomach, up past her ribs, and then—bam—her tits are exposed. Perky, full, bouncing a little as she tosses the top aside. No sag, just young and firm, nipples hard already. She folds her arms across her chest. I shake my head.

“Hands down, baby. Let me see.”

She drops them, standing there topless, chest rising and falling. “Touch ’em for the camera. Squeeze those tits, play with your nipples.”

She does, cupping them, thumbs circling the pink peaks. A soft moan slips out, and she arches her back, pushing them out like an offering. My mouth goes dry watching through the viewfinder. At my age, I’ve seen plenty, but her? She’s something else. Innocent mixed with that slutty edge I taught her. Goddamn. She’s a good daughter.