Heather Pt. 02
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Last night I watched my eighteen year old daughter, Heather, undress and masturbate in her room as the webcam we installed to watch the baby fell, changing the viewing perspective from the crib to Heather’s bed. When I awoke the next morning, I remembered it all. And I was so glad I had set the camera to record whenever the video player was open on my laptop. I knew I would be getting off to the whole episode tonight…and most likely every night in my foreseeable future.
My daughter’s body had been lustfully peered at for a while, as I imagined how good it must look naked. So watching Heather undress and seeing her incredible body that night was an amazing fantasy come true for me.
I wanted to watch the video I had recorded last night, but I had to go into the office for a meeting. Heather was still asleep as I left, but I couldn’t resist using the webcam once again to see her beautiful body, slumbering soundly, before I closed the laptop and placed it in my backpack. Only her head was uncovered. But my daughter’s beautiful face, sexy blond hair, and the outline of her body under the sheet seemed to beckon me, silently, but powerfully to slide into bed next to her. I shook my head and laughingly thought, “They will be lucky to get any work out of me at all today!”
My work meeting seemed meaningless, and I had a hard time participating in any capacity. Thankfully I wasn’t asked to give commentary on any of the topics discussed, as my mind was obviously elsewhere. When the meeting began to exceed our allotted time for the conference room, we thankfully were dismissed. But the Director of Digital Operations asked us to be available for an afternoon discussion, in case we had any issues with our assignments for the day.
I had hoped to be able to cut out of the building after the morning meeting, but I realized I would have to wait until tonight to relive last night’s experience. I got to my desk, opened my laptop, and had to quickly close the viewer I had opened before I left home. “Fuck,” I thought. “Today is going to be the longest day of my life.” I had to try to get my mind under some sort of control, and figured, “Coffee is the answer.” I grabbed my cup and headed to the break area, in an attempt to calm the storm that raged in my pants.
When I got settled back at my desk and began going over my scheduled tasks from our meeting, the Text Message notification chimed on my cell phone. It was from Heather. I assumed she must be texting me to ask where I was, as I had forgotten to mention that I had to go into the office in the morning. That is not what she sent, however. Instead Heather’s message was, “So you moved the webcam?”
“No. It must have gotten moved when I changed Tara,” I finally replied, a few minutes later. I had to get my mind right for some serious lying and denial that was no doubt going to be required of me.
“Don’t lie!” Heather texted.
I was breathing so hard, I thought I might pass out, or throw up. Or possibly both. The only thing I could text back was, “I’m sorry. It really was an accident.” I wasn’t admitting to anything other than knocking the webcam loose, canlı bahis but I figured a blanket apology might just make the whole thing go away.
A few minutes passed. I was anxious to get another text. The waiting was worse than the argument that was no doubt going to escalate. Finally Heather texted, “Well I hope you enjoyed the show. YOU PERV!! LOL”
“What was that supposed to mean?” I asked myself. “LOL?” “Is she seriously telling me it was OK?” “Is she embarrassed?” “Is she furious?” “Is she teasing me?” “What the fuck am I going to say?” Finally, I sent back, “It was an accident. Won’t happen again.” Then I could only think, “Please oh please oh please don’t make me wait so long for a reply.”
Heather responded quickly, “OK. If you didn’t mean to leave the camera on the changing table, I will put it back over the crib.”
“Oh no, I did NOT want her to move it,” I thought. But I was dumbfounded as to a reply. Standing firm on continuing my denial, I sent, “I didn’t leave it there. It fell there.”
“OK Daddy. If you say so. Just know that I believed you were watching me last night. If you were not, fine. I will put the webcam back where it was,” Heather quickly texted.
I read that. Then read it again, trying to make sense of it. “Had she really known I would be watching?” I thought. “Did my teenage daughter masturbate just for me last night?” My mind ran laps around a million questions, feelings and urges as my dick began making demands of its own. I took a sip of my coffee, chuckled at how much my hand was shaking, and texted her back. “I didn’t know the camera was facing your bed when it fell. I was going to come tell you when I first noticed it on my laptop. But you were already undressed and I didn’t want to embarrass you. I watched. And saw things I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t tell me you are sorry. I don’t know why I wanted to do it. But I thought you put the camera there to spy on me, so I decided to give you a show. I would feel like an idiot if I did all that and you weren’t even interested.” Heather replied.
“Honey, it would be impossible for any man to NOT be interested,” I texted back, urgently.
“Sorry I called you a perv, Daddy. I was just as out of line,” Heather wrote.
“No apologies, Sweetie, I’m relieved. I didn’t know what to do last night. If being called a perv is the worst thing that happens to me, I am getting off easy! Ha!” I replied.
Heather replied by sending a smiling emoji.
So I sent a smiling emoji with hearts for eyes, and wrote, “I love you very much.”
“I love you too Daddy. I am leaving the camera where it is, but I don’t want to talk about this when we get home. I will be embarrassed. OK?” She texted in reply.
“I feel the same way Honey,” I quickly agreed. “Do you work today?” I asked.
“Ya. From noon to 7,” Heather told me. Then quickly followed up with, “About to get dressed. Don’t watch me! Hahaha,” including a laughing emoji in her reply.
“I’m in the office. You’re safe,” I laughingly wrote, attaching the smiley-face emoji with an angel’s halo over its head.
“Well Tatiana will bahis siteleri be babysitting Tara when you get home. Don’t watch her either!” Heather insisted, followed by another laughing emoji.
I replied with a simple “Thumbs Up” emoji.
I was finally able to breathe normally again, so I began to pull my reluctant senses back to the work I had been assigned. That was no easy task. Most of the time I could do my job blindfolded, but the fog on my brain was not so easy to navigate through. After a few minutes of deliberate concentration, and several big swigs of hot coffee, I was able to formulate a plan to meet my objectives. I realized most of my tasks had either already been completed or were unrelated to my specific role. I was feeling pretty productive and happy with myself, having already met my manager’s expectations before we even had our meeting about it.
My mind had once again become my own. The pressure I was feeling in my pants was completely forgotten when my phone chimed with a new notification. I grabbed it and immediately swiped it awake, in the programmed response we all seem to share. It was a pic, sent from Heather.
“OMG Sweetie! You are gonna get me fired!” I replied, quickly closing the image.
A few minutes later I received, “OK! I won’t bug you again. See you tonight. Or maybe I won’t. But…You will see me,” followed by a smiley-face emoji with devil horns.
I showed restraint from texting her again. Work needed to be done. And I knew if I continued our dialog, my brain would be wrecked. “What has gotten into her?” I thought. I honestly didn’t care what the answer was, though, as I shoved that image to the back of my mind and cast every bit of mental energy into doing as much work as possible. I wanted to make the day go by at warp speed, nourish myself on whatever fast food was available on the drive home, pour a big glass of bourbon, plant myself in bed with my laptop, and get ready for “The Show.”
The commute back home from work was so unremarkable that I didn’t even remember driving it. My mind had been in la la land since I came down the elevator from my office. Suddenly I was opening my garage door. I had not stopped to grab anything to eat, but food was not going to satisfy my body anyway.
I tossed my keys in the tray on the counter, flipped through my mail (all junk), and poured a much needed glass of bourbon on ice. Since Heather would not be getting off work for about another hour, I knew Tatiana must still be watching Tara. I went back to Heather’s room and exchanged a few pleasantries with Tatiana as she played with the baby, before finally getting on the other side of my bedroom door.
Heather works for a local motorcycle dealership. She realizes they hired her specifically for her looks, but doesn’t mind it. My little girl looks good and she knows it. Heather also knows men. If a guy is on the fence about dropping thousands of dollars on a bike, a hot girl in tight shorts, heels and crop-top can be very persuasive. I’m proud of her for working at all. The $5000 per month Heather receives from CJ’s parents (an amount they offered as soon bahis şirketleri as we learned of the pregnancy) is much more than she needs. But my daughter enjoys proving to the world that she can make it on her own.
I plugged my laptop in next to the bed and powered it on, then shed my clothes down to my t-shirt and underwear as it booted up. Finally. I was between the sheets, ready to play the recording from the night before. I took a quick look at the webcam to make sure Tatiana was still settled in Heather’s bedroom before opening my daughter’s pornographic video.
As I looked at Tatiana, I thought, “I wouldn’t mind seeing THAT young woman strip sometime.” She was very attractive, with a warm smile. But Tatiana had been hired by CJ’s parents, so she was always formal and professional in our pleasantries. She was from some country in Eastern Europe that exports beautiful, blond haired, blue eyed women. Tatiana (or Tatya, as Heather sometimes called her), appeared to be in her early thirties, tall and slim. Small boobs, but she was put together well.
I closed the webcam window and double clicked on my recording from last night. I slid my underwear down, took a sip of my drink and grabbed a handful of my cock as I watched my daughter slowly unbutton her blouse. Heather was looking over at the crib. Then I saw her eyes catch the lens of the camera as she realized it had been moved. My daughter raised her eyebrows, rolled her eyes up to the ceiling as if in contemplation, pursed her lips into a little smile and let her blouse fall to the floor.
Heather took a step toward the changing table, cropping the view from her entire body to frame just her satin and lace bra. She reached behind her back with her hands. A second later, my daughter’s magnificent breasts were filling my laptop screen. Off camera, she was removing her watch and necklace. As Heather tossed them onto the changing table and turned to walk over to her bed, I realized that was what got my attention the previous night.
So Heather HAD noticed the camera before she took her clothes off. My daughter had deliberately stripped for me. All of it had been for me. I watched the entire video, slowly edging myself and feeling the buzz from the liquor. Then I heard a light tap on my bedroom door. I quickly closed the video player on my laptop, regained a more upright posture against my headboard, and casually said, “Come in.”
Tatiana opened my door and warmly smiled as she informed me, “Heather is on her way home. She wanted me to let you know that I am leaving. Baby Tara just went to bed. I fed her and gave her a bath, so she should be down for the night.”
“Thank you so much, Tatiana. Have a good evening,” I calmly replied. My entire body suddenly went warm.
“Thank you, sir. You too,” Tatiana said, as she put her purse under her arm and turned to leave, quietly closing my bedroom door behind her.
“Oh I plan on it,” I remarked to myself.
I heard the front door open, then firmly close. A few seconds later, my phone chimed with a text notification. Heather was notifying me, “On my way. Told Tatya she could go. Don’t start without me!” Attached was the little smiley-face emoji with horns again.
I laughed and texted back, “Not making any promises! Drive safe. But hurry.” Then attached the laughing emoji as I sent it.
End of Part – 2
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