The costume party continues. High Quality Sex Pics

I've had too much to drink.

She'd turned mean as I got older, never wanting to leave me with Dad, always hounding me about school, even though I got straight A's. Dad told me that she had always been jealous of me and the way he loved me. From the minute I was born, Daddy made me his world. Mom just didn't understand. To make matters worse, she and Daddy had a baby boy when I turned 15: his and her kids. Once he was born, she had no use for me. It was good then that she left and took the baby with her. I had my daddy and the baby had his mommy.

Dad and I took my bags up to my room. I had forgotten to take down all the posters and the teddy bears that lined my walls and shelves. I looked around and got teary-eyed again.

Dad gave me a sad smile.

"I'll leave you to yourself for awhile," he said, and headed downstairs.

I saw myself in the full-length mirror in my room. At the dorm, I thought I looked sexy. Very Brittney Spears. But here, I looked cheap. Not daddy's girl at all. So, I changed into a pair of khaki pants and sandals and headed back downstairs.

I think it was the sandals that tripped me up. I got halfway down the wood and steel stairs when my foot slipped out from underneath me and I stumbled, down, down, down, tearing the shit out of my knee as I fell.

I know I screamed as I tumbled, letting out a howl when I finally landed. Daddy came running and saw me in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. He scooped me up, carried me upstairs and deposited me on the bed.

My right knee was bloody and hurt like hell.

"I need to look at it," he said, trying to push my pant leg above my knee. I let out a hiss of pain.

"I hate to say this, Dad, but I'm going to have to take them off," I said.

I laid back and unbuttoned the pants and gingerly raised my hips off the bed. Dad pulled them off from the pant cuffs, taking extra care as he pulled them over my knee.

He clucked his tongue as soon as he saw the knee - all puffy and crusted in blood.

"I'll get the peroxide," he said. "Sit here."

He ducked into his bathroom and emerged with the familiar brown bottle and a couple of Q-tips. He knelt before me and unscrewed the cap, and as he did so, his gaze wandered up to the patch of pink silk thongs that I was now beginning to soak despite my injury. A familiar aroma filled the air and he looked up at me with those brown eyes again. There was something new this time: lust.

Our gazes locked and it felt like the air was being sucked out of his bedroom. I leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, my hands shaking. I knew now why his face appeared in front of my face whenever a guy kissed me. It was Daddy I wanted all along.

I held his face close to my breast, smelling his hair and enjoying the feel of his face so close to my aching nipples.

"Oh, Beth," he said. "It would be so wrong."

"Would it, Daddy? When we both want it, would it be that bad?" I couldn't believe what I was saying.

He put down the peroxide and sat beside me on the bed. I was beginning to throb now, anticipating what was going to happen. My daddy could make me his and only his forever if he wanted. His hand threaded through my hair and he put his forehead against mine.

"Beth, do you want me to show you what it means to make love?" he asked. His eyes searched mine for an answer. All I could manage was a weak nod. "Oh, God," he groaned. "This could be such a big mistake."

"No, Daddy, it won't," I replied.