Chickadee Ch. 01Chickadee Ch. 01


“Lisa, honey?” I called to my wife. She was our room. “The computer’s broken.”

“What’s it doing?”

“Freezing up.”

She joined me, standing behind my shoulder. She tapped the keyboard a few times. “Hmm.”

“I know.”

I turned back. My wife’s breast was right over my face. I thought about what I could do, right then, in my spinning chair, what I longed to do. Turn around and bury my face in her gorgeous chest, like I used to. But I knew better.

“I’m headed past the mall,” my wife said. “I’ll take it into the store.”


I unplugged the laptop and handed it to her.

“Why don’t you use Lindsey’s?” she asked me.

“I don’t want to do that,” I said. “She needs privacy.”

“She’s still a kid,” Lisa said. “And we bought it for her anyway.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Lisa put our laptop in a bag and then picked up her keys. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she said. “Running errands.”

“When will the girls be home?” I asked. It was Saturday; my oldest, Anna, was out studying. She was in college but lived at home. Lindsey, my youngest, was a senior and at swim practice.

“I’m not sure. I know Lindsey planned on seeing her friends after practice,” Lisa said. “Could be noon, could be three.” She kissed me. I still got that, at least. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” I said.

Once my wife was gone, I went up to my daughter’s room. I felt a little uncomfortable in there. Lindsey was eighteen, and my baby, but she was grown up now. She was a good girl, nice friends, but always had trouble in school. She was smart, but couldn’t seem to get the hang of assignments or papers, and failed more tests than I could count. We got into lots of fights, growing up, before I could accept that she wasn’t going to be like I was, or her sister was. But despite all that, I loved my girls more than anything, and had always had a soft spot for Lindsey. With all her struggles, I wanted to protect her. I liked to think we were close. But still, now that she and her sister were grown, I felt a strange discomfort around them, like I wasn’t sure what might happen. A pale-blue bra hung off the end of her bed. I looked past it, and anything else I might see that I didn’t want to, and found her computer on her desk. I took it into my office.

I was trying to look up a weekend getaway for my wife and I. A friend recommended a resort in a small beach town about three hours away. Not too touristy, he said. The real traps were further south. I figured that was what my wife and I needed; Lisa and I still got along well, but had gotten off track in the bedroom. Life was stressful. Neither of us had cheated – I was sure about her, she was a good woman – but I couldn’t deny I had started to feel the itch myself. I wouldn’t ever betray her or my family; Lisa was my partner, and our girls were our lives. So that was why I needed to fix this, and fast.

It was October, and still warm, but the prices would probably be good. The place was called the Tres Palmas; but I mistyped, and hit a “e” instead of an “r” in “tres”. I was about to go back, when I saw the results that autocomplete provided.

Teen gets rammed by daddy.

Teen fucked by stepfather.

Teen gets punished for getting home late.

Teen girl fucked by her father.

I froze.

Let it stand that my first instinct was to close the computer.

I shook my head. This could mean anything. Autocomplete was random, right?

But my results had never advised anything like this – because I used private browsing mode. I hit backspace and went to the resort website, though my pulse did not die down.


I looked up the dates I had set aside, one week from now. They were free. I was right, the prices were cheap.

Lindsey liked incest porn?

I shut that thought out of my mind. My daughter – my baby daughter – was an adult, and this was none of my business. Plenty of people liked that sort of thing, myself included. It didn’t mean I wanted her.

I booked the weekend for Lisa and I. When the site prompted me for my credit card, I fumbled, not remembering it, before the digits came back to me.

Teen gets rammed by daddy.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but my cock reacted to those words. I laughed a little to myself. Like father, like daughter, I thought. Lindsey and I already took after each other a great deal. Apparently we liked the same things in the bedroom, too.

God. I pushed this thought out of my head. The confirmation popped up. Hooray. In two weeks, I’d be getting laid. Hopefully.

But what about the meantime?

My cock was hard, and it didn’t show signs of going away. According to Lisa, I had several hours alone to look forward to. No reason why I shouldn’t do some browsing.

While I like incest porn, my interests aren’t exactly narrow. But that afternoon, my palette had been whetted, and I knew there was only one thing to satisfy it. So despite the voices in my head telling me not to, I scrolled into Lindsey’s izmir escort history. If the girl and I liked the same thing, I might as well browse. Maybe I’d find something new.

Apparently she’d spent a lot of time last night online. This made my skin hot; Lisa and I had been downstairs. According to the timestamps, while my wife and watched the news, my baby had been upstairs watching “Daddy fucks his shy cheerleader.”

I couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing as she watched. What she was wearing.

I don’t want to admit what this did to my cock.

OK, I’ll admit it. I was rock hard. But not because of Lindsey. I didn’t want her. The whole situation was too kinky to ignore.

I clicked on one of the videos. It was generic amateur incest; just an older man having sex with a much younger woman in a dark room, no dialogue. Still, judging by the noises the girl made, she was enjoying herself. Nothing made me harder than a woman’s moans. I took my cock out. The headline’s mere suggestion of incest had sent my blood pumping, so I was rock-hard.

I began to stroke myself as the man fucked the woman on screen. It had been so long since I’d been with anyone. Three months, and before that, three more. What would it be like to have a regular partner again? To want sex and know I could get it?

The girl was hot; she got on top and I watched her tits bounce as she rode her dad. I knew it wasn’t her dad, of course. They looked nothing alike. But her pussy obviously felt good, because she was moaning and whimpering enough to wake the neighbors. I loved it. Precum soaked out of my cock.

“Yeah baby,” I said softly, imagining she was riding me. “Cum on daddy’s cock.”

Suddenly, I imagined Lindsey was there, watching the same video, her legs propped on either side of the computer so she could better reach her clit. Heat rushed to my face, then instantly went to my cock. Jesus – I wanted to be ashamed, but I was already so hard that something kinky and dirty was only delicious, not wrong.

“Fuck baby,” I whispered. I imagined her touching herself, listening to the woman cumming. “Do you want a man to make you cum, honey?”

I was depraved, and I knew it. I also knew I would feel awful the minute I came, but it didn’t matter. My mind was in a hot rush; all I thought of was my youngest girl, touching her wet pussy to the sounds of incestuous dirty videos.

“Oh, ride my sweetheart,” I whispered. “Ride your dad, chickadee!”

I didn’t need to finish the video. I came before I hit the five-minute mark.

And I was right. I was ashamed.

That night at dinner, I noticed Lindsey kept watching me. She couldn’t know anything – unlike her, I was schooled enough to delete my internet history. So maybe I was going crazy. Anna was talking to my wife about a paper she had due. Normally I cared about this sort of thing, but that night, I couldn’t. Something had snapped when I watched that porn, some invisible wall I hadn’t known was there before. Lindsey sat opposite me at the dinner table, and I couldn’t help but notice how adorable she looked in her tank top and shorts. And not adorable in a daughter way; adorable in a “please get on your knees, sweetie,” way.

The thoughts in my head were not like me; I’d never cheated on my wife, but the way I was thinking about Lindsey definitely suggested otherwise. Jesus. I’d never even thought about another woman this way – sure, I’d had fantasies, but not this specific.

I took a breath. It had only been a few hours. Tomorrow, this would all be different. I just needed some sleep.

“I’ll do the dishes,” I said to Lisa the moment we were done. “You go sit with the girls.”

Really, I just needed something to do with my hands.

“I’ll help,” Lindsey said, taking her plate to the sink.

“It’s alright,” I said. “Why don’t you go pick out a movie?”

“I want to,” she said. I couldn’t help but notice she had a strange look in her eye – or maybe I wanted her to have one. She picked up her sister’s plate from the table, and when leaned over, I could see her sweet breasts pushed together. Those were new, I thought. Did she have those at Christmas?

“Really,” I said. “You should relax.”

“Daddy, you work all week. Let me help.”

Now I was sure something was strange; she hadn’t called me daddy in years. I raised my eyebrows and looked at my wife. No, I wasn’t crazy. Lisa had her eyes narrowed as well.

Lindsey pouted; she had always been good at that. Some things don’t change. “Please?”

Did I mention I’m a horrible person?

“Sure, chickadee,” I said.

Lindsey joined me.

“You dry,” she said, tossing me a towel.

“I can -”


For awhile, we traded dishes in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though I couldn’t deny being overly conscious of her presence. How had I never noticed how sweetly rounded her body had become?

Lindsey came up to my shoulder, her honey-blonde hair going to her waist. She alsancak escort wasn’t fat at all, but one wouldn’t call her skinny; she was round and sweet and had bits a man wanted to chew on. Or so I imagined. I don’t know where she got it; Lisa was gorgeous but different, long and lanky.

I imagined Lindsey with a boy who was chewing on her body, and almost dropped a plate.

“Whoa,” she said, laughing. Her voice had a strange quality to it, like she was extra happy. Maybe I was imagining things. She took a step closer and picked up the dish, reaching past me to put it on the counter. In the process I got another look down her tank top.

It was all because of the porn, I reminded myself, and the lack of sex. I just needed another good jerk session.

“Shit!” Lindsey shrieked. She’d spilled water down herself. “Damn it, daddy!”

“Here.” I handed her a towel. Instead of taking it, she turned to me, offering up her chest to dry.

If she wasn’t my daughter, I would think this was a very transparent move. But she was my daughter, so I knew it wasn’t a move at all.

But, I remember in a flash, she was only eighteen. She’d never had a boyfriend. She probably didn’t have a lot of sophisticated moves.

I put this out of my mind. This was my daughter. My sweet baby daughter, who used to make me check under her bed for monsters. She wasn’t trying to seduce me. I was a pervert.

“Here.” I handed her the towel. I was not going to pat my daughter’s breasts, no matter who sweet and ripe they looked. Or how much of them was on display.

She took the towel and began to pat herself dry, that pout coming out again. This time I knew it was genuine. Katie didn’t like messes. Her tank top was white and the water had turned it semitransparent, but to my surprise she made no effort to cover herself.

Her nipples were larger than I would have guessed.

“I’m going to check on your mother,” I said immediately.


Lisa gave me a funny look when I came into the room.

“Where’s Anna?” I asked.

“Studying,” she said. “Big exam on Monday.”

“Good for her,” I said. I never had to worry about my oldest daughter. And until now, I never had to worry about my youngest, either.

“How’re the dishes?” Lisa asked. This time I was sure I didn’t imagine the weird look on her face.

“What’s the matter?”

She shrugged. “Lindsey’s been a little strange lately.”

“What do you mean?”

“You mean you haven’t noticed?”


Lisa rolled her eyes. “I guess nothing’s changed.”

This irked me. “What do you mean?”

My wife leaned back, swirling her wine in her glass. “I mean,” she said, “you never knew when a woman had a crush on you. I always found it adorable.”

I sputtered. “Lindsey,” I pulled my voice down to a whisper, “does not have a crush on me.”

Lisa raised her eyebrows. “Alright, daddy.”

Indignant, I left the room. I was about to walk into the kitchen, then saw Lindsey still at the sink. Her cute little ass was puffed out of her shorts. I took a left and went up the stairs instead.

I heard my wife laugh at me.

“Oh, shut up,” I said. She laughed even harder.

Well, I’m not a saint. The next day, when Lisa was out gardening, I went on Lindsey’s laptop again. To be fair, ours wasn’t fixed yet.

I don’t know what I was hoping to see. But whatever, I was hoping for, I knew what I was looking for, and I found it.

Amateur father-daughter incest, real.


Instantly my body knew what my mind didn’t. I had my cock in my hand before I pressed play. This time, I could have cared less what was on the screen. All I thought about was that was jerking off to the same thing as my daughter. It was a filthy video; he had her hands behind her back, banging her from behind, while a cameraman (pretending to be an uncle) shouted dirty words at the girl. She couldn’t be a day older than nineteen.

“So this is what you’re into, baby?” I whispered, going to town on my cock.

This time, I came all over the screen.

“Will you take me to the pool, daddy?” Lindsey asked when she saw me that afternoon.

“Honey, it’s Sunday,” I said. “I thought this was your day off?”

“I need another practice if I want to win next week,” she said. “Please?”

I looked at my wife. She had that glint in her eye again, but did no more than shrug.

“Alright,” I said. “When?”

“I’ll go change!”

Lindsey swam in her high school pool. Usually parents had to watch from the bleacher above, but since it was a quiet day, I could sit on the deck. She came out of the girl’s locker room in her racing suit. It was a one-piece cut for speed, the holes for the legs going high over her hip bones. Not that I noticed.

“Will you time me, daddy?” she asked. She stretched a leg behind her. I reached for my phone in my pocket, glad to have a distraction from the way the cold air had hardened her nipples. buca escort


She jumped up and down a few times, warming her muscles. Lindsey was a good swimmer, but nothing special; athletic to help her get into school with her poor grades. Her figure wasn’t built for it – too short, too curvy. Up until now she had always whined about it, calling herself fat. I watched as she stretched, her sweet, plump legs pale in the bright light. I reminded myself never to let her criticize her body again.

“Are you ready, daddy?” she asked. She stretched her arms again, this time over her head. Her breasts strained over the top of her suit, making two lovely half-moons.

“So ready,” I whispered.

“What?” She stood with her legs apart. My eyes took her in and I saw where the suit cupped her between her legs, dipping into a little cleft in between. My skin was hot, and I began to get very nervous. Sneaking a glance at a nice pair of tits was one thing. But looking at my daughter’s…?

I looked again. She obviously shaved, with a suit cut so high.


I needed to get control of myself. It was easier once Lindsey was in the water. She asked me to time her on her laps, but I couldn’t see her body. It took ten minutes, but I finally calmed down.

It’s just the long drought, I reminded myself. This doesn’t mean anything.

“How was I, daddy?” she called at me.

I smiled. “Amazing, sweetie.”

“Watch this.”

Going with Lindsey to swimming always reminded me of when she was a little girl. Watch me daddy, watch me! I was a good father; every parent makes mistakes, and I regretted mine bitterly, but I had been there for endless cartwheels, handstands, laps down the pool, and dance recitals. I listened to her cry after fights with friends, and helped her with her homework. I did all the same for Anna, but she and I had never gotten along quite so well. Lindsey was my baby, and always had been.

After an hour, she pulled herself out of the pool. I swallowed, watching the water run off her body. She shook out her hair, which fell along her face in a way that should be illegal.

“You ready, daddy?” she asked.

“What for?” I said, too soft.

She cocked her head and gave me a strange look before dissolving into a smile. “To go home.”

“Oh,” I said. “Right.” But I couldn’t stand up just then, not without revealing far too much.

“Meet you out front,” Lindsey said.


That night we had our usual Sunday routine. Even Anna parted from her book to watch a movie in the living room. I was tired; Sunday blues, as they say. But with Lindsey cuddled up against me, I won’t say I was sleepy.

I saw my wife looking at us through the corner of her eye. I scowled at her; what if our girls noticed her glance?

Lindsey gripped my arm and cuddled even closer, before readjusting so her head was in my lap.

I stiffened.

“Hon,” I whispered. I could see Lisa smiling. God, this was embarrassing. “Honey, sit up.”

Lindsey looked at me, her pout coming out once more. “I’m comfy.”

“Sit up,” I said.

She didn’t move.

“You’re a big girl,” I said.

A little flash came into her eyes. Suddenly, my cheeks went red; I seemed to have given her something she wanted. My wife’s accusation came into my head again. Did Lindsey have a crush on me? Could it be true?

I replied with a bit too much force. “Sit up.”

“I can’t hear the movie,” Anna said.

I looked at my other daughter. To my relief, the only feelings that surfaced there were the regular ones. She brought me back to earth. “Sorry.”

Lindsey resumed her position leaned against my arm, and we finished out the movie that way.

Later that night, after the girls had gone to sleep, Lisa confronted me.

“Don’t tell me you don’t see it,” she said.

I really didn’t want to have this conversation.

“She’s just… testing boundaries,” I said. My words sounded weak even to myself.

Lisa shrugged. “I think she’s into you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said.

“Is it?” Lisa asked. “It’s not the strangest thing in the world. Plenty of girls have crushes on their fathers.”

“No, they don’t!”

My wife nodded. “Besides, you’ve always been so devoted to her. It’s not crazy. Honestly, it’s healthy.”


“Yes,” she said. “Better you than some idiot from school who can’t figure out how to put on a condom.”

I almost dropped the plate I was holding. “Are you saying it’s a good thing she has a crush on me?”

“I’m saying, maybe it would be good for both of you to see what happens.”

I was shocked, that wasn’t an act. But I played it up a bit, hoping she wouldn’t see how my eyed widened, how my cock stiffened in my parents.

Lisa got that strange glint in her eye again. “I’m not telling you to do anything. But tell me. Can you honestly say you don’t like it when she calls you ‘daddy’ in that little-girl voice?”

I gulped.

Lisa grinned.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked. “I’m your husband. She’s your daughter.”

Lisa shrugged. “Maybe there is something wrong with me.”

“Aren’t you jealous?”

She thought about it. “Well, no. I’m not.”

I didn’t even pretend not to be offended.

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