One of Those Feel-Good Award-Winning Coming-of-Age Films - Sex Stories

One of Those Feel-Good Award-Winning Coming-of-Age Films

I’m Jake Johnson, an average (in all ways but one, as you’ll see) middle class Anglo suburbanite in 2020’s middle America. I had been 35, and so was my wife Julie, when she left to run off with her dance instructor, Pierre (probably not what his parents knew him as). Why is it always some guy like that? Anyway, that is what happened. Seriously. I don’t know where they went, and I don’t care. This was 4 years ago, and I’ve had my hands full with our teenage daughter Alina – in a good way I mean.

Alina has always been quite a free spirit. She’s never been subdued by social norms. She does as she pleases (but is surprisingly responsible and mature for all that), and she’s starting to blossom into a very attractive young lady. She turns heads wherever she goes. That is the absolute truth, not just my fatherly pride. She’s never wanted to hook up with any of the drooling fools at her high school, which she’ll be leaving in a couple of months anyway.

I never imagined getting incestuously intimate with my own daughter. But she had basically thrown herself at me on her 18th birthday. I suppose it was a matter of her having considerable curiosity about sex, in addition to what she stated at the time, a sincere desire to take care of me and my growing depression. Well, I’m certainly not depressed now! What can I say? She is the best lover I’ve ever had, by far. Her loving, caring attitude and her unquenchable sexual thirst are big factors there. And I am completely captivated by ...

... her shapely young body, her ever increasing sexual talents, and her constant cheery availability. There’s a lot of trust between us, and I guess you could say I’m an exceptionally lucky guy. Maybe someday it’ll all come crashing down, but it will have been well worth it, for both of us.

So then, getting down to this story, which I’m anxious to write out and preserve: This past Monday night I came home from work feeling kinda worn out, which is fairly typical for me these last couple of years. You wouldn’t think a 9 to 5 desk job could be so tiring, but the stress is always there. So, coming into the house Monday evening, I perked up right away when Alina greeted me in the skimpy white lace bra and panties she likes to wear around the house after she’s showered. She enthusiastically threw her arms around me, and we had one of our deep, passionate kisses that leave no doubt we are lovers in every possible way. This always puts me in a much better frame of mind, in which I can simply leave the office at the office. “How was your day?” she asked me, innocently enough.

I knew from experience that Alina would not be satisfied with a perfunctory “fine.” But I generally never wanted to burden her by bringing home the baggage of my job, the difficulty of dealing with my quality control customers and the even greater frustrations of dealing with my idiot coworkers. “Well, you know it’s hard some days,” I replied. “This was one of those days. But I’ve always said not to sweat the ...