admin

Thank you to everyone who gave me feedback on my previous story. I've taken note of the comments asking me to continue with the watersport themes and so this is a full and frank exploration of that.
This is about 11,000 words and should be about 3 to 4 pages.
Hopefully, you'll enjoy it and I encourage you to leave feedback. Good or bad, it's just good to know the stuff I write is being read.
Everyone in this story is over 18
*****~~~~~~****
The 19th hole
Amy's putt was a monster, at least 30 feet, down the hill, with a severe break from the left. I was fairly confident she wouldn't make it but as it tracked towards the hole my confidence wavered. She raised her putter, pointing to the sky in victory and I clenched my fists and, willed it to miss with all my might. But, before I tell you whether she'd holed it or not, it's probably worth me explaining how we got to this point and why it mattered so much...
I took up golf a few years before Amy was born and it seemed I was a natural at it. I quickly got my handicap into the low teens and played at that level for around a decade although for the last few years I've been playing off scratch. I'm proud that being a scratch player makes me one of the best players in the club, but not as proud as I am now that Amy is too. Our improvement over the last few years has been down to our twice weekly games, they are so competitive, so hard fought, and, with added incentive of the forfeits, we took them really seriously.
The forfeits had started when she was around 12 or 13. Almost overnight she had filled out and developed physically, she got stronger and suddenly we were competing rather than just playing together. I clearly remember the first game where we played for a forfeit, we were waiting on the 18th tee for the fairway to clear and I was working out the scores...
*quot;We're level you know,*quot; I said, as she put her tee into the ground.
*quot;I know Daddy,*quot; she responded confidently, *quot;I was wondering when you were going to realise that?*quot;
*quot;Mmm... well, I knew you were playing well, just not that well...,*quot; I mused.
She confidently and smoothly swished the club and imagined the draw she needed for this final tee shot then she turned to me and with a wry grin said.
*quot;You know that if I win this hole, it will be the first time I've beaten you gross, like ever?*quot;
I nodded as I worked it out, I'd not been keeping score but at this point I probably was 200 for none.
*quot;That's true Amy,*quot; I said with an encouraging nod, *quot;good luck.*quot;
*quot;I don't need luck,*quot; she responded with a defiant grin.
She cocked her head as she turned to me and asked, *quot;So what does the winner get?*quot;
*quot;A bet? You want a bet just because you've a chance of winning for the first time?*quot;
*quot;Yes,*quot; she said with an air of expectation that was designed to niggle me.
I snorted a laugh which told her to bring it on. *quot;Ok Amy, what do you want if you win?*quot;
She tilted her head cutely to one side as she thought through her options.
*quot;What about a sleeve of those new Pro V1 balls?*quot;
*quot;Yeah OK,*quot; I shrugged, *quot;and what do I get if I win? You don't have any money do you?*quot;
She shook her head in resigned acceptance that she couldn't stand her end of the bet up, then her eyes brightened.
*quot;What about a neck rub, I'll rub your neck and shoulders when we get home.*quot;
*quot;How long for?*quot;
*quot;15 minutes?*quot;
*quot;Sounds fair,*quot; I said as I nodded towards the fairway, *quot;let's see who wins then, shall we.*quot;
She nodded confidently as she took her stance and thwacked the ball into the distance.
I won that first forfeit but only just and as sweet as that first victory was, the best part happened when we had got home. I settled into my chair in preparation for the massage and Amy took position behind me, obviously sulking at having to go through with her part of the bargain. She put her warm hands on my shoulders and began to rub, then she asked in her most petulant voice.
*quot;Are you sure we're doing this?*quot;
I pictured her face as I'd sunk the 10 footer for the win, her puppy dog eyes and pouty lips showed how competitive she'd become.
*quot;To the victor the spoils,*quot; I replied with a smug grin and a chuckle, *quot;to the victor to spoils...*quot;
And that's how it all started. I lost the very next game and bought her the balls as promised but, from that first seed, our new 'thing' flourished, every game had some outcome for the loser. We quickly dropped the idea of buying anything instead it was all about the forfeit. Neck rubs, head massages, foot rubs, cleaning the winners clubs, washing the car, doing the washing up, innocent little forfeits that meant the loser had to acknowledge their defeat and the victor got to gloat; but that innocence didn't last much beyond Amy's 18th birthday...
The changes were so subtle I was never quite sure that they were real. Her massages felt more like caresses; deeper, smoother, more intimate, almost sensual. She seemed to enjoy my massages more too, relaxbet güvenilirmi cooing, purring, she would soften and relax under my touch and she had grown into such a beautiful young woman that I found myself responding in unexpected ways.
Then there was a time that she'd left her socks on for a foot rub. She threw herself into the chair and offered me her foot as if she just expected me to just comply. She watched me intently as I crossed the room and dropped to my knees before her before slowly revealing the dirty soles of her socks.
*quot;Take them off Dad,*quot; she'd instructed without breaking her gaze.
It was only a pair of socks, just a pair of dirty knee length socks, but there was no denying that it felt like I was undressing her as I drew them down her calves. I remember I was almost in a daze as I gripped the tops and slowly revealed the olive smooth skin of her legs. The room was silent apart from our breathing and there was no denying that it felt that this foot rub had lost its innocence.
*quot;Are you two still at this, I'd have thought you'd have grown out of this by now?*quot; Sandra, her mother, called snapping us out of our reverie.
I quickly pulled my hands away from Amy's feet, guilty at the thoughts I was having but before I could respond, Amy saved my embarrassment.
*quot;He lost, he owes me,*quot; she said firmly to her mum whilst at the same time giving me an encouraging smile.
*quot;Whatever,*quot; Sandra snorted as she walked into the kitchen, *quot;nothing to do with me.*quot;
My head span as I rubbed her calves and massaged her feet, was this all in my head, was this just some middle aged man weirdly obsessing about his beautiful daughter, I looked at her for some hint but her eyes were closed and her head lolled back and so I got nothing from her. But a couple of weeks later I was in no doubt that things had changed. We stood on the first tee on a cold February morning.
*quot;So what's it going to be today then Amy?*quot;
*quot;I want a foot rub...*quot; she said, her voice tinged with a nervous edge, *quot;but I want it in the car before we set off home.*quot;
Up to this point, all of the forfeits had been done at home. We'd go home, shower off, slip into slacks or trackies and then do whatever needed to be done, occasionally with Sandra looking on. So the idea that we would be doing something surreptitiously, secretly, certainly gave a very innocent sounding foot rub added piquancy.
I wasn't quite sure where this was going, I nevertheless agreed.
*quot;Ok,*quot; I agreed slightly hesitantly, *quot;I'll go for the same.*quot;
She beat me soundly, finishing a good five shots ahead. She was on fire and I think I was more interested in seeing where this was leading rather than concentrating on the game.
We got back to the car and doffed our winter gear outer layers.
As I have said, Amy had grown up to be a beautiful young woman, tall, slim, permanently tanned from being outdoors so often, pert breasts, long legs and, as she stood from tying her shoes, I saw it all. Her torso wrapped in her skin-tight base layer, her skorts that finished mid-thigh, her white ankle socks and cute pumps.
In my mind, her suggestion of a secretive forfeit felt like a continuation of what had been happening for the last couple of months and had at least a hint of a sexual escalation, why else would she have suggested the privacy of the car.
She clambered into the car and my stomach churned with nerves as I joined her.
I did my best to hide my inner turmoil and to keep my voice as normal as possible.
*quot;Give them here then,*quot; I said, patting the padded leather centre console.
She quickly scanned the car park, there were only a few people around but she still didn't seem comfortable.
*quot;Let's not do it here dad, there are people around and it is freezing. Can we stop off in the woods on the way home, the car will have warmed up by then as well.*quot;
*quot;Yeah, no problem,*quot; I said trying to sound as nonchalant as possible even as the knots in my stomach tightened as I realised my reading of the situation wasn't wrong.
The 'woods' was a small copse of private woodland that was owned by a friend of mine. It had a single rough track that ran through it, but that was no problem for my Range Rover and taking that track took 15 minutes off our journey and so we drove through it regularly.
I knew that there was a small open area, a little hollow in the ground, that was just off the single track, we had gone for picnics there in the past. It had dense trees nearly all the way around and so provided an awful lot of privacy, that's where I decided to park.
*quot;Is this okay Amy?*quot;
She glanced around to make sure we were alone then she gave me a weak smile and nodded.
*quot;Perfect dad.*quot;
*quot;Come on then, get them up here. Let's get this over with,*quot; I said, still pretending that this was a forfeit despite my rising excitement.
She gave me a sideways look, checking whether I was serious about this still being a forfeit and, even though relaxbet yeni giriş my face made it obvious it wasn't, she still hesitated slightly, taking a deep breath before she moved.
She undid her seatbelt and slowly swung her legs onto the plush leather. I was surprised to see that she'd left her pumps on and my glance told her that; the look I got back was one of naughty innocence as her dusky brown eyes asked me to take them off.
I untied the laces and slipped the pumps from her petite feet. Again I felt like I was undressing her for what was to come and again I found it unexpectedly erotic. I tossed her pumps into the footwell.
*quot;Socks on or off?*quot; I asked, staring at the dirty white ankle socks.
*quot;It's up to you dad,*quot; she said, without ever taking her eyes off mine.
She'd only offered me her socks but the way she'd done it, the long build-up to this point, her deep dusky stare was having an effect and my heart pounded with anticipation.
I peeled her socks from her feet, I tried to do it without any pomp or theatre, still trying to pretend that this was just a foot rub, but there was no denying the significance of it; we both felt it.
We'd been massaging each other for a few years and we were both pretty expert. She purred as I rubbed her ankles and dug my thumbs into the balls of her feet. Her gaze deepened, seductive brown eyes drew me further into this before she closed them and let her head rest against the window.
*quot;Mmmm dad, that's good*quot; she cooed from behind closed eyes.
As I rubbed her feet, her knees softened and parted, inviting me to look between her legs and up her skirt.
The inner shorts meant that she retained her modesty but I knew this was never about her putting on any sort of overly lewd display, this was about testing the waters, trying me out, starting a journey whilst keeping some plausible deniability should I react badly.
But I'd definitely joined her on this journey. As I massaged her calves, I eased her legs further apart and she didn't resist and after a few minutes, she had one knee resting on the dashboard with the other pressed against the back of her seat. Completely open and completely relaxed, she allowed my eyes full and unfettered access to her smooth young thighs, to her hardening nipples poking through her thin tee shirt, to her slim waist, the only thing spoiling the picture were those damn inner shorts.
I stroked her calves as far as her knee, massaged her feet and ankles but all the time I took in her sensuous beauty, a beauty that she had freely offered me, and it was as wonderful as it was alluring. Then, after about 15 minutes, she opened her eyes and again she held my gaze.
*quot;Thanks dad, that was great.*quot;
I nodded as I waited for the power of speech to return.
*quot;Good, I'm glad you enjoyed it,*quot; I croaked, my throat still dry.
*quot;Did you enjoy it, dad?*quot;
*quot;Yes,*quot; I whispered with a nod.
*quot;Good,*quot; she said as she swung her legs into the footwell, *quot;let's see who wins next week, shall we.*quot;
I won that game a week later. Again we drove to our isolated spot in the woods and I opted for a shoulder rub. Unnecessarily she made me take off my shirt so that she 'could do it 'properly' and I played along. She'd climbed into the back seat and made me recline the driver's chair until I was nearly horizontal, she massaged my neck, arms and chest. She wore the tightest skin top I'd ever seen and she was obviously braless beneath it and she frequently brushed her taut nipples across my skin and even across my lips as she reached across my chest.
And that's how our journey began and it's how Amy and I eventually became lovers. It took until the end of spring before we finally fucked and between that and the first foot rub, there were lots of escalations, some small and some that felt like giant leaps. I remember them all, especially the big brave steps, and how nervous we both felt as we took them.
For the first couple of months, it was still all based on the pretence of this being a massage. Of course, we pushed the boundaries of what a normal massage between father and daughter should be. It was clear that we wanted to break through those boundaries entirely but were seemingly struggling to find a way without being the first to bare our soul to each other.
Some time, around three weeks in, she won again and opted for a foot rub and again it was an erotic, sexually charged encounter, but, as we drove away, we were both disappointed and we both knew we wanted more. I managed to find some courage.
*quot;Amy?*quot;
*quot;Yes, Dad?*quot;
*quot;Those skorts look rather uncomfortable for a foot rub, is there anything else you could wear?*quot;
Her eyes twinkled naughtily as she beamed back at me. She knew where this was going, I knew that she wanted this, but it still didn't stop her making it hard.
*quot;I've got some trousers?*quot; she responded dryly.
*quot;Not quite what I was thinking, I couldn't massage you properly if you were wearing trousers, relaxbet giriş anything else?*quot;
*quot;I've got some nice skirts?*quot;
*quot;Mmm yes,*quot; I mused, pretending that this was her idea, *quot;a skirt would work fine, I think.*quot;
She was quiet for a moment and as we pulled up to the traffic lights I glanced across to make sure that I hadn't gone too far; her eyes met mine.
*quot;If I wear a skirt, you'll be able to see my knickers.*quot;
I nodded nervously and croaked, *quot;Yes*quot;
*quot;Is that what you want Dad, to see my panties?*quot;
It didn't feel like a trap, but that didn't stop me being terrified that it might be, I nervously nodded in confirmation.
*quot;Any special requests?*quot;
Instinctively my eyes lowered to her crotch as I imagined what I might soon see.
*quot;Something nice,*quot; I whispered.
*quot;Nice?*quot;
I hesitated slightly, plucking up the courage to utter the word forming on my lips.
*quot;Sexy,*quot; I breathed in response.
*quot;Mmmm okay Dad,*quot; she mused, seemingly considering her options.
She seemed to settle further into the seat with a contented glow and I suddenly realised that the reason why we hadn't previously broken through this barrier was that I hadn't understood the rules of the game. She had been incredibly brave with that first suggestion of a secretive massage in the woods and then it was my turn, she needed me to commit and to be as brave as she had been; things moved quickly once I'd realised that.
*****~~~~~~****
As promised the pair she chose were a beautiful, a sexy, black lace affair with a slim satin gusset that seemed intent on burying itself into her pussy. Unlike that first time, she didn't close her eyes and she watched me intently as I massaged her feet and manoeuvred her legs in an obvious attempt to see more of her. I rubbed her feet, I caressed her calves, I stroked so high on her thighs I thought I could feel the radiated heat from her pussy and I could definitely smell her arousal.
I was lost in the eroticism of the moment, her porcelain smooth skin, her firm but yielding flesh, her openness, her compliance, her willingness to let me touch her in places where Dads shouldn't touch their daughters, to see things that Dads shouldn't see, to feel things that Dads shouldn't feel for their daughters had my head spinning and I could have stayed in that moment forever. It was Amy that brought us back to reality.
*quot;Dad,*quot; she whispered.
*quot;Dad.*quot;
It took an age to force my attention to what she was saying.
*quot;We should go Dad.*quot;
Reluctantly I nodded and pulled my hands away from her thighs, I settled into the seat, my heart thumping in my chest and pulled the car onto the road. As we drove away from the hollow she continued to watch me.
*quot;Dad?*quot;
*quot;Yes, Amy?*quot;
*quot;When we get home will you get yourself off thinking about what we've just done?*quot;
Those dusky, soft, brown eyes were impossible to lie to and, despite my nervousness, I nodded my admission.
*quot;Yes,*quot; I whispered
*quot;Me too,*quot; she whispered back as she raised herself off the seat and shuffled her panties off before she pressed them into my hand.
*quot;Will these help?*quot;
I rolled the still warm panties around in my hand until I found the slick, damp gusset, I slid my thumb through her wetness as I imagined them wrapped around my cock.
*quot;Yes,*quot; I responded, with any hint of nervousness gone.
She flicked the back of her skirt up so her bare ass and pussy were pressed tight against the seat's leather.
*quot;Good*quot; she cooed as wriggled against the seat.
I laughed and she gave me a sideways stare.
*quot;Something funny Dad?*quot;
*quot;I'm just thinking about how quickly you can become jealous of an inanimate object,*quot; I said with a nod towards her ass.
She smiled back and ground against the leather even harder.
The next week, as we drove towards the club, the sexual tension was palpable. We both knew that this was to be one of those stepping stone days where we moved this on to a different level and the conversation soon morphed from the mundane to the erotic.
Sophie drew breath. *quot;So dad, did you use my panties to get yourself off last week?*quot;
I hesitated to answer, I realised that I should have been nervous, maybe even ashamed, to admit that I'd wanked into my daughter's knickers but, I was surprised to realise, I wasn't. And at that moment I knew that it wouldn't be long before we were fucking and I wanted that to be soon.
*quot;Yes.*quot;
*quot;I want details, tell me,*quot; she pressed, *quot;I want to know what turns you on.*quot;
*quot;You turn me on...*quot;
*quot;Good, but I want details,*quot; she interrupted.
*quot;Okay, so, I got myself hard sniffing your panties.*quot;
*quot;Do you like my smell?*quot;
*quot;Yes baby, I loved the smell of your panties.*quot;
*quot;My panties?*quot; she pressed, needing me to commit more fully to this.
I took a deep breath and plunged into the unknown.
*quot;Your pussy baby. I love the smell of your pussy.*quot;
She looked straight at me and her brown eyes burned with passion.
*quot;Did you taste them?*quot;
*quot;Yes,*quot; I answered without hesitation
*quot;What did I taste like?*quot;
*quot;I don't know. I'm not sure how to describe it. Beautiful, erotic...*quot; my voice trailed away
*quot;I've heard it described as the sweet taste of a fresh, young pussy, what do you think?*quot;