Lockdown with Lila

"Lila," I called, "Were you expecting a package?"

"Yes!" she called, jogging to the entry way, excitedly. I handed her the package.

"What is it?"

Lila didn't answer at first. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling and her mouth twisted coyly.

"Sure you want to know?"

"Why wouldn't I want to know? It's not something illegal is it?"

"No, of course not. Nothing like that. So, you want to know?"

I should have said 'no,' but I wasn't thinking clearly enough.

"Sure, of course."

"OK then. It's my new vibrator."

"Your new -"

"Vibrator. You know what a vibrator is, don't you?"

"Of course, I do. I just didn't -"

"Think I'd use one? I'm not a little girl, Dad. I'm a woman."

"I can see that." I stammered. "I mean, I know that. It's not my business. Sorry." I shook my head.

"Nothing to be sorry about." She grinned. "Here, I'll show you."

"Lila, you don't have to -"

"No, it's fine," she said, interrupting me.

I should have said no, firmly. I should have walked away. But I didn't. I chose badly, again. I stood and watched as Lila's deft fingers tore open the box. Within a minute she pulled a slender purple rod out of the box. It curved slightly at one end, and at the end of the curve it bulged noticeably.

She held it up in front of her face, looking at it the way I might inspect a power drill.

"The curve allows the tip to hit my G-spot. I love that feeling."

She looked at me with a naughty expression.

"You do know what a G-spot is, don't you, Dad?"

"Lila, of course. I wasn't born yesterday."

"Oh, I know you weren't born yesterday. Just checking. You're not embarrassed, are you?"

"No," I replied, even though I was, in fact, embarrassed to see my daughter holding a sex toy between us. "I'm just, um, still getting used to some things around here."

"Getting used to your daughter being a grown woman, is that it?"

"Something like that. I know you are. But it's an adjustment. And with us cooped up like this the adjustment's faster than I expected."

"Faster isn't always better, is that it?"

"Um," I said again, fumbling with my words. "I'll leave that thought to you. I have work to do."

Fortunately, I did. A client had contacted me the previous day seeking guidance on her business's social media outreach. I was glad to get the work. I left Lila with her new toy and returned to my office. Soon I immersed myself in drafting a memorandum to the client, and my absorption in the work got my mind off my daughter.

I usually kept a browser window open to my email inbox, so I would know immediately when emails arrived. Two hours after sitting at my office computer I noticed a new one - from Lila. I opened it.

"Enjoy!" it said in the text portion. Below the word was an attachment. I clicked on it, without thinking.

A video opened.

I gasped, literally.

Lila's nude body, sprawled on her bed and facing the camera, legs open, filled most of the screen. Her pussy was bare - freshly shaved, I guessed. She held the purple vibrator in her hand and its bulbous tip lay against her skin just over her clitoral hood.

Lila was talking into the camera, but I had the sound off and had no idea what she was saying. The tip of the purple rod slid down over her clit and between the lips below.

I couldn't watch any more. With the click of my mouse I closed the video.

I sat at my computer, shocked.

Two minutes later I received another email, again from Lila.

"Dad," it said, "That email was meant for someone else. Sorry!"

Meant for someone else. I wondered who. Probably her friend . . . Sasha, I think she called him. But how could she mistakenly send an email to him to me instead?

Was it really a mistake?

My mind reeled. And, I could not deny, my cock stirred. I hated myself for that.

I highlighted the email with the video and prepared to delete it, my finger poised over the mouse. But I didn't press the button. I should have, but I didn't. I closed the email window instead and resumed drafting the memo.

This time it was much harder to stop thinking about Lila.

I didn't see Lila again for hours, when I was in the kitchen starting to prepare dinner - fried chicken and mashed potatoes and salad.

Lila walked into the room quietly, and I didn't see her until she was almost at my side. She wore brief denim shorts, with holes in them, and a loose crop top. The bottom hem stopped not far below her breasts. She obviously wore no bra and her breasts swayed and jiggled with every step and movement.

"That looks good," she said, looking at the meal I was making.

"I hope so," I replied.

"You're a really good cook, you know. I don't think I've said that. I appreciate it. You take good care of me. I want you to know that."

"That's kind of you. I've always liked cooking and I have more time than ever to do it."

"Well, you use your time well. Most of the guys I know in college can't cook for shit."

"Language, Lila."

"Sorry, Dad," she said, with exaggerated emphasis on the last word.

I went back to preparing dinner and Lila watched television. My mind was troubled by the video I'd seen of Lila, but I didn't know whether to bring it up.

Later, we sat at the dining room table and I laid out the food before us. I preferred to eat at the table to eating in front of the television. I preferred a little ceremony with a meal. I let Lila have a half glass of wine with her dinner. We ate in silence for a few minutes, but I decided I had to speak.

"Lila, about your email earlier today. The video."

"You saw that?" she asked.

"I did. I opened it, and then I closed it right away. But not before, you know, seeing you."

"I hope I didn't shock you."

"Well, I was kind of . . . shocked, I guess."

"You weren't supposed to see it," she said. "It was meant for someone else."

"Well, about that," I said. I paused. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, to talk about. "Do you think that's smart?"

"What do you mean?"

"Sending a video like that to . . . a boy. To someone else."

"You shaming me, Dad?"

"It's not like that," I said. "I'm concerned about you. When you send a video like to someone, you don't know where it will end up. He could show it to his friends. He could show it to anyone."

Lila rolled her eyes, holding them on the ceiling, and her body fidgeted.

"Dad . . .."

"What is it?"

"I know he showed it to his friends. I wanted him to."

I shook my head, not sure I had heard her correctly.

"What?" I asked.

"Before I sent it, he said his friends wanted to see it. So, I told him 'OK.' I know they saw it. At least three of them, that I know about."

"Lila," I said, the worry in my voice obvious.

"You're not getting all moralistic on me, are you, Dad?" she asked. "Are you ashamed?"

"No," I said. "It's not about shame. It's about being careful. If you have videos of you out there it could hurt you."

"I've thought about that," she said. "And, like, I decided it was worth the risk. I enjoy showing off. It's a rush. Maybe someone won't like it. Maybe in the future someone won't give me a job because of it. But that wouldn't be somewhere I'd want to work."

"It's risky, Lila," I said.

"I know, Dad," she said, "but I'm an adult and I can make those decisions for myself. You respect that, don't you?"

"I respect your right to make the decision," I said, reluctantly. "I'm just not sure it's the right one."

"I get it," she said. "You're my Dad, so I get it. Are we good?"

"We're good," I said. "I guess."

"Great!" she said, a big grin breaking over her face. "And one other thing, Dad -"

"What is it?"

"If you want to watch my video, go ahead." With that remark, she pivoted on her toes, spun around, and quickly left the room. And I could swear she swayed her ass at me for my benefit as she left.

Two hours later, after having scrubbed down the kitchen and swept the patio and kept myself busy in various ways to keep my mind off my daughter's ass, I found myself back in my office, at the computer.

All my eyes could see was a tiny icon on the computer desktop. It ended in ".mp4." It was the video from Lila I'd downloaded, and that I'd failed to erase.

I used my mouse to navigate the cursor on the screen over it. My finger hovered over the mouse to delete the icon.

I wanted to delete it. I did. I really did. I wanted to be a good father. But she'd given me permission. She wanted me to look at it. And she'd never know, right? No one would ever know.

And maybe I would be a good father to find out what she was doing. Knowledge was a good thing, wasn't it?

I clicked on "open" instead of "delete."

The icon expanded and the video screen opened. Lila filled the screen again, naked and with her legs spread. Without thinking I used my mouse to click on "Fill Screen" and Lila's naked body filled the large monitor inches from my face in high resolution. The purple slender rod of her vibrator hovered just over her clitoris. The lips of her pussy were pulled back, almost perfectly, like the wings of a pink butterfly, as though she'd spread them with care before starting her video. Nothing was left to the imagination. Her knees were pulled back wide and her womanly breasts pushed out toward the camera with wide rosy erect nipples.

My cock grew instantly hard.

A shock of embarrassment and shame swept over me. I knew I shouldn't be doing this.

But I couldn't help it.

"Hi Daddy," Lila said on the screen.

"Daddy?" I mouthed to myself. Was this some weird game she had with her boyfriend? It must have been, because she had told me she'd meant to send the video to him. It must be some weird role-playing game.

"I know you've been looking at me," she said on the screen. The little purple wand tap-tap-tapped over her clit. The depths of her pussy remained open below.

"I think you want me, but you can't say it." She writhed on her bed. Her legs spread apart still more and the opening between her legs widened.

"I want you to know," she said, "that I want you too. I think about you and I want to sit on your cock and I want my little pussy to wrap around it and grab it, and I want you to fill me."

My cock was rock hard, and, almost against my will, my hand went to it and squeezed it between thumb and forefinger.

"I want to put on a little show for you," she said. The hand on the vibrator flicked the button and the buzz of the vibrator grew.

Lila didn't put the vibrator inside her pussy - not yet. She moved the little round head of the instrument up and down each delicate lip, gently tickling to one side and back. I groaned. Literally - I groaned.

"Fuck, Lila," I heard myself say.

That's right, fuck Lila, an unspoken voice in me said.

No, I thought. That's not right.

"Oh, Daddy," Lila said, almost as though she was reading my thoughts. "Do you like the sound of the vibrator on my pussy? Do you like looking at my pussy? I'll bet you do."

Oh, I did. But I didn't want to admit it.

I wanted to look away from the computer screen. I really did. But I couldn't. I was horny and frustrated, and my daughter's bare open cunt lay in front of me and there was no fucking way in God's Earth that I could tear my eyes away from the sight of it.

One hand, on the computer mouse, maneuvered around the screen to increase the volume. I was nervous about Lila being able to hear what was going on from outside the room, but I wanted to hear her voice and the sounds of her toying herself more clearly. I saw the little volume bar on the screen move right and the sound increased. Her heavy breathing played out from the computer speakers. Oh, my cock grew harder still.

My other hand fumbled with my pants, unbuttoning my fly and drawing down the zipper and pulling my pants and briefs down until my hard cock sprang free. It bobbed and pointed toward the screen, toward the naked, spread figure of my daughter Lila. When my hand was done getting my pants and underwear out of the way it grabbed my hard penis at the head and then moved swiftly down to the base. My penis roared up from my body in a gob-smacked salute to my hot daughter.

"I'll bet you like the sound of this vibrator," she said. "But I bet you'll like another sound even more."

She switched the vibrator off and it went silent. I wondered what she meant. I liked the sound of it against her. I liked watching that tip against her pussy. I didn't know what she intended or what sound she was referring to.

She showed me, soon enough. She pushed the purple rod away from her body, and then she pulled it right back. She speared herself with it. The head, and then the entire shaft, of the purple vibrator disappeared into the depths of her pussy. Her lips enfolded it.

"Unnnnh!" she cried out as it entered her.

With no thought about it I started stroking my cock. Up. Down. Up. Down. I couldn't help myself. I really couldn't.

Lila started really fucking herself with the vibrator. My daughter.

"Daddy," she called.

In and out, in and out, the vibrator moved.

My hand moved against my cock in rhythm with it.

Then, I began to hear it - not the vibrator, not her voice, but the sound of her pussy being fucked. It was a squishy, squelching sound, a sound that grew in volume with every plunge of the instrument into her body. I could tell that her pussy grew wetter as she kept fucking herself with the vibrator, and with more wetness her pussy grew louder.

My hand's grip on my cock grew tighter. Its stroking quickened.

"Lila," I heard myself say to the figure on the screen.

I felt bad, but not bad enough to stop. No father should do what I was doing, but I was doing it anyway, and I gave into the need and desire and told myself I couldn't stop. What man could? Lila was a beautiful young woman displaying herself for her man's satisfaction. It would have been inhuman for me not to appreciate the sight of her body.

I kept stroking.

I knew I was going to ejaculate to the sight of my daughter frigging herself with the little vibrator.

The squishy noise of the vibrator in her cunt grew louder.

"Daddy," she called out on the computer screen.

The sound of that word sent a little shiver through my body, starting somewhere around my shoulders and traveling down to the end of my cock head. A dribble of pre-cum dribbled out the top and my swiftly moving hand shrouded it and drew it down over the length of my shaft. Lube would be no problem.

"Go ahead and come now, Daddy," she said, pumping the vibrator in and out of her with increasing speed. My hand moved over my cock faster and faster to keep up with her.

"Unnnh, unnnh, unnnh," she said.

"Ohhh, Ohhh," I said back.

With great suddenness I felt the seed erupt from me, welling up from the depths and through my shaft until great milky gobs of cum erupted from my cock into the air like a geyser. It felt like I'd lost all control of my cock and cum sprayed left and right and forward. It splattered the carpet and the computer keypad. A few flecks hit the computer screen and the fluid began streaking down the face of the monitor.

Onscreen, Lila came too. Her body bucked and twisted, and she held the vibrator inside her until the movement slowed and stopped. Spots and tiny streams of white trickled from her cunt. Lila moaned and squealed.

After a minute of staring at the ceiling while her body stopped shaking, Lila's head moved down and she looked directly at the camera.

"Tell me you want to fuck me, Daddy," she said, her eyes twinkling with the lustiest expression imaginable.

I shouldn't have said it, but I did.

"I want to fuck you so bad, Lila," I said back at the screen.

After ten more seconds, the video faded to black.

I stared, open mouthed, at the screen. My hand still gripped my cock, and both were coated in my cum. I couldn't believe what I'd done.

After a minute of paralysis, I found a tissue box and cleaned up the mess I had made.

My lust was sated, for the moment. At the same time, I worried that my soul was lost.

* * * *

I didn't see Lila the rest of the day. She was cooped up in her room, I guessed, and I had no idea what she was doing. I ate a quick dinner of leftover stew stored in Tupperware in the refrigerator. I brooded the rest of the evening and settled into my bed in an agitated state of mind.

The next morning, I woke up, got out of bed, and walked in a daze to the kitchen. I made coffee. The air felt cooler than it had before, so I approached the thermostat on the wall to set it.

Before my fingers contacted the thermostat's touchpad an image popped up in my mind: the image of my daughter, in skimpy underwear. I wanted her to be comfortable in her underwear. If she was cold, she might have to put on more clothing.

And I . . .

I . . .

I didn't want that. I wanted her to be comfortable so she could be skimpily dressed. I punched the thermostat buttons so the temperature would be warm.

I asked myself what I was doing. I knew what I was doing, but I wondered why I was doing it. Lila was my daughter. I shouldn't have been thinking about her the way I was, but I did. I couldn't get the images of the video and of her raw, young, open pussy out of my mind. The mental image of it drove me crazy.

I sat on a stool at the kitchen counter eating cold cereal and gulping down coffee until Lila woke up and entered the kitchen.

Sure enough, she walked into the room in her skimpiest outfit yet - a little cropped white camisole and white panties. Not shorts, panties. She hadn't even bothered getting dressed. The front of the panties closely sculped her pubic mound and the band of fabric on either side of her hips was no more than an inch wide. She wore no bra under the camisole. The points of her nipples were clear under the white top, pointing dramatically outward.

I felt my cock stiffen and told myself I had to stop that.

"Morning, Dad," Lila said, walking almost naked to the refrigerator

"Good morning, Lila," I said.

She pulled out a pitcher of orange juice and poured it slowly into a glass. I tried not to, but I couldn't help but run my eyes over her body, and they zoomed in on the mounds of her nipples under the thin camisole.

I can't do this, I thought.

But I did it anyway. My eyes ran over my daughter's body like she was a stripper on a stage. I mean, she kind of was that, wasn't she? She'd sent me a video of herself, naked and showing off, frigging herself to orgasm. She'd given me the OK to look at the video. We didn't say anything about it, but the thought hung over us, unspoken, nonetheless.

A heavy quiet lay over the atmosphere as we ate breakfast together. Neither of us said anything. I tried to keep my eyes off Lila, but every time she turned away, they went back to her. At the refrigerator door she bent over, and her pretty ass mounded in my direction, stretching and pulling the skinny gusset of her panties further into the crack of her cheeks. Her cunt, which I'd jerked off to the day before, lay just beneath, and I couldn't tamp down my keen awareness of it.

It was all I could do at breakfast to keep Lila from catching me staring at her body. I'm not sure I did. She had to be wondering if I'd looked at the video, but she didn't say anything. I was glad to sit on the other side of the table from her so she couldn't see my otherwise obvious erection. When I was done, I shuffled out of the kitchen, turning my body away from her so she wouldn't see the cause of my embarrassment.

The whole day was like that. The two of us went about our activities separately, me trying to concentrate on what little work I had, with limited success, and Lila off attending virtual classes or doing whatever it was she was doing. Maybe making another video, I thought.

I grilled chicken breasts on the grill in the backyard. The evening had grown pleasant and cool and stars were beginning to emerge. I threw some corn on the grill as well and downed a glass of sauvignon blanc.