“Dad! When is dinn-“ Y/N’s words falter as she passes her room and sees Cordell standing there, holding a piece of her lingerie in his hands as if the stockings are a grenade with the pin pulled.

Cordell swivels his stare from the stockings to their owner, his little girl, his daughter. Apparently not so little anymore.

“What uh,” Cordell swallows heavily, his breath weighing on his chest like an anvil, “what are these, Y/N?”

Y/N looks around for an escape, but seeing none, sighs and walks into her room, closing the door quietly behind her.

“You know what they are, Dad,” she rolls her eyes, not trying to hide it.

“Why do you have them?” Cordell asks, glad he manages to keep his tone even.

“Ummm,” Y/N is clearly much more hesitant to answer that question.

“Y/N,” he says in warning, and she crumples visibly.

“Trevor bought them for me,” she admits, not meeting Cordell’s eyes.

“Excuse me?” Cordell is shocked, affronted… jealous?

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Y/N apologises, shame and embarrassment evident on her face. “You don’t have to worry though, I’m probably just going to throw them out.”

That takes Cordell aback.

“Why?” he asks, anger forgotten for the moment.

“I, um,” Y/N squirms under his gaze, “I didn’t like how they looked on me, I felt… I don’t know, I just felt stupid. No one would want to see me like that.”

“I’m sure you looked beautiful, baby girl,” Cordell reaches out to reassure her without thinking. It’s instinct, comforting his little girl, telling her she’s beautiful and perfect in his eyes. But right now, those words mean something very different.

“You’re just saying that. You wouldn’t think so if you saw me in them,” Y/N brushes him off.

“So show me.” The words are out before he can think, and now it’s too late to take them back. Y/N is staring at him, wide-eyed, confused… innocent. She reaches for the stockings and takes them from his hands.

His baby girl is standing in front of him shyly, lace-topped stockings clipped to a suspender belt that highlights the narrowest part of her waist. Her little lace panties match the set. He wonders idly if her bra matches too, but the top half of her body is still covered by the crop top she’s been wearing all day.

Fuck.

His hands clench against his thighs as he looks at her, jaw set tight, unable to speak. Unwilling to speak, really, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to control what comes out of his mouth if he does.

Y/N walks toward him slowly, coming to a halt, so close her legs are almost touching his knees, their toes brushing against each other on the carpet. His eyes find her waist, her legs, and jump away, landing on her face, lips parted softly, eyes shining with nerves.

“Daddy?” Y/N asks quietly. Cordell reaches for one of her hands, brings it to his lips, kisses it.

“You do look beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers, scared that if he speaks too loudly, he’ll break the spell they’re both under and end this. “Fuck, so beautiful, baby girl.”

Y/N looks down in embarrassment, breaking their gaze, shifting something in their trance. Then she lets out a small gasp and looks back at Cordell, shocked and flushed, her chest heaves under the pace of her breaths. Cordell looks down and sees what she saw: there’s a very obvious bulge in his jeans, where he’s gotten hard from looking at his daughter in lingerie. He feels like he should want to be sick, but he doesn’t.

“You aren’t lying?” Y/N asks him breathlessly, apparently now convinced since she’d seen the physical evidence of Cordell’s reaction.

“No, baby girl, I’m not,” he shakes his head, moving his hand under her chin to make her look at him. He takes a breath, preparing to cross the line he knows no father ever should, as if he hasn’t already crossed it.

“Let me show you.” Cordell drags her hand down his body and presses it to his cock, hard and pulsing in its denim prison. She lets him guide her. Their fingers massage him together, lacing flesh with flesh as they rub desire further into him. Cordell gets an idea.

Standing, he keeps Y/N’s hand in his and leads her to the full-length mirror she has on the back of her door. Placing himself behind her, he makes her look at them in the mirror.

“Let me show you how beautiful you can be,” Cordell ducks down to whisper in her ear, and she shivers against him. Slowly, he traces his fingers down her body, playing with the ribbons of the suspenders that are holding the stockings up. He drags his nails over the stockings, knowing the sensation will feel heightened through the nylon and lace, and he smiles to himself when she shivers again.

Cordell brings his fingers between her legs, brushing lightly over the lace of her panties, sighing happily when he finds her damp. Holding her tightly against him with his free arm, he starts to rub at her clit gently, and Y/N groans, melting back into his hold.

“Mmh,” she moans, pushing up on her tiptoes to rub herself against his fingers. Cordell continues to draw maddeningly light circles over her bundle of nerves, teasing as much as he can.

“Look in the mirror, darlin’,” he tells her, and she opens her eyes, which had slid closed the moment his hand went between her legs. Y/N looks at the mirror, taking in the scene of her father’s body pressed against her back and his fingers playing with her panties. She whimpers when he presses his fingertips over her entrance, hips bucking into his hold and ass arching back into his groin.

Cordell knows she must feel his cock. He’s been hard since she took the stockings from him and agreed to try them on. He feels himself throb in his jeans as she continues to grind back into him, but when she meets his eyes in the mirror and lets out a small whine of “Daddy,” he almost cums then and there.

“Do you feel what you’re doing to me, baby girl?” Cordell breathes heavily, thrusting himself against Y/N’s ass, so she can’t avoid feeling his cock digging into her. “You turn me on so much looking like this. You’re stunning, you know that?” He leans down and kisses the top of her head. It would be comforting if he wasn’t rubbing his fingers firmly over her soaking panties. The fatherly action feels wrong, but somehow it ratchets the tension in the room up even higher.

“I love you, Daddy,” Y/N whimpers, grinding down into his hand.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Cordell kisses her head again, holding her close. He drags the hand that’s not rubbing Y/N off up the side of her leg, plucking at the suspenders before trailing his fingers over her stomach and up under her shirt. He squeezes her breast in his hand, feeling her nipples harden up beneath the lace of her bra.

“Do you want me to take it off, Daddy?” Y/N asks nervously, still leaning on him for his approval. He smiles widely at her in the mirror.

“I’d love that.”

Y/N wiggles in his arms as she pulls her arms up into her crop top and gets it off over her head. Cordell sucks in a deep breath through his teeth at the sight of her in the full set of lingerie.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he groans, humping more deliberately against her back and bringing his fingers back to her clit, the dripping lace moving easily under his touch.

“That feels so fucking good, Daddy,” Y/N mewls, legs beginning to tremble.

“Want you to make yourself cum for me, baby. Want you to see how beautiful you look when you cum for Daddy, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” she whines, rocking her hips more quickly into his hand. Her eyes drift closed when she hits a good spot, and Cordell pinches her nipples to get her attention.

“Keep those eyes open, baby, told you I want you to see. Can you do that for me, Y/N?” Cordell drops another kiss to the top of her head when she nods.

“Fuck, just don’t stop, Daddy.”

“Promise baby, keep rubbing that little pussy into Daddy’s hand. You’re close, aren’t ya?”

“Yes, fuck yeah, so close.” Y/N’s thighs are clenching around his hand, humping mindlessly, chasing her climax.

“Cum f’me pretty girl, cum for Daddy,” Cordell groans, his own erection almost painful with how bad he needs to cum.

“Oh fuck!” Y/N convulses against him, freezing still and shivering through her orgasm. Her pussy is soaked as her slick starts to drip down her thighs. She’s going to have to wash the stockings again.

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