Chapter 1: Introduction
The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, when Emmy pulled her car into the driveway of her father's woodworking shop. The scent of sawdust and varnish filled the air, a familiar smell that always managed to ground her. She stepped out of the car, her boots crunching on the gravel as she made her way to the shop door.
Inside, Smith was putting the finishing touches on a cherrywood table. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong, calloused forearms. He had a bit of sawdust in his hair, but Emmy suspected that was just from habit.
Her father had always been meticulous, even when he was covered in grime and dust. He looked up as she walked in, his expression unreadable.
"You're late," he said, setting down his chisel.
Emmy rolled her eyes. "I know, I'm sorry. Traffic was crazy."
"Traffic is always crazy, Em. You should've left earlier."
She sighed, dropping her bag on the workbench. "I know, I know. I'm here now, okay? Let's get started."
Smith raised an eyebrow.
"Get started on what? You haven't even unpacked your bag yet."
Emmy grimaced, realizing he was right. She'd been so eager to get to the shop that she'd forgotten her usual ritual of dumping out the contents of her bag onto the workbench and sorting through her tools. She dug out her safety glasses, a pencil, and her notebook, then slipped into her apron. "Okay, I'm ready now."
Smith picked up the chisel again and resumed his work on the table leg. "Good. Because we've got a lot to cover today.
First, let's talk about your lack of focus yesterday. You were all over the place."
Emmy bristled. "I was not. I was just getting settled in."
Smith gave her a look that said he wasn't buying it. "You spent more time playing with your phone than actually working, Em. I saw you. And don't think I didn't notice you taking shortcuts on that cabinet door."
Emmy's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I was just... trying to save time. You know, work smarter, not harder?"
Smith shook his head. "Working smarter is not about cutting corners.
It's about understanding the craft, knowing your tools, and respecting the wood," Smith said, his voice steady. He put down the chisel, his gaze meeting Emmy's. "And if you can't focus on the job, then maybe this isn't the place for you."
Emmy's eyes flashed with anger. "You can't just say that, Dad. I can do this. I want to learn."
Smith leaned against the workbench, his arms crossed. "Then prove it. Show me you're serious. Show me you want this as badly as I thought you did."
Emmy looked away, her lips pressed together.
She knew her father was right, but she hated when he called her out like that. It made her feel like a teenager again, not the young woman she was trying to be. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
"I'm sorry, Dad. You're right. I was messing around yesterday. I won't do it again."
Smith nodded, his gaze softening. "I know you can do this, Em. I just need you to show me. Let's start with something simple. How about you work on this table leg while I finish the other one?"
Emmy nodded and took the chisel from her father.
She watched him carefully as he worked, trying to mimic his movements. They worked in silence for a while, the only sounds the soft taps of the chisel against the wood and the distant hum of the radio tucked away in the corner.
"That's good, Em," Smith said after a while, nodding at her work. "You're getting the hang of it."
Emmy smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her at his praise. "Thanks, Dad."
Smith looked up from his work, his eyes meeting hers. In the soft light of the setting sun, his eyes seemed darker, more intense.
Emmy felt a strange flutter in her stomach, a sensation she hadn't felt in a long time. She quickly looked away, focusing on the wood in her hands.
"Thanks," she said, her voice a little breathless.
Smith put down his tools, his chair scraping against the concrete floor as he stood up. He walked over to Emmy, his footsteps echoing in the quiet workshop. She felt his presence like a physical touch, her heart pounding in her chest.
"You're doing well, Em," he said, his voice low.
"But there's more to woodworking than just the physical aspect. It also requires discipline, patience, and...focus."
He reached out, his hand cupping her cheek. Emmy felt a shiver run down her spine at his touch. She looked up at him, her eyes wide.
"What are you doing, Dad?" she whispered, her breath hitching in her throat.
Smith didn't answer. Instead, he leaned down, his lips brushing against hers. Emmy froze for a moment, shock coursing through her. But then, she felt a spark, a heat that spread through her like wildfire. "I thought you were going to teach me about woodworking again?" she asked.
Smith's other hand slid up from her waist, cupping her breast through her shirt. Emmy gasped at the contact, her nipple hardening instantly. She could feel the heat of his hand even through the fabric, and it sent a jolt of desire straight to her core.
"I am teaching you, Em," he growled, his voice low and rough. "I'm teaching you about control, about desire, about the wood within you."
His thumb began to circle her nipple, making her squirm against him. She could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against her stomach, and it sent a thrill of excitement through her.
She'd never thought of her father this way before, but now she couldn't deny the desire coursing through her veins.
"Daddy," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "We shouldn't..."
Smith cut her off with a kiss, his lips demanding and insistent. He pushed her back against the workbench, his body pinning hers. Emmy could feel the rough texture of his jeans against her thighs, the heat of his body searing through her clothes.
She moaned into his mouth, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair.
She pulled him closer, her body arching against his. Smith's hands roamed her body, exploring her curves with a possessiveness that sent shivers down her spine. He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he ground his cock against her.
"Fuck, Em," he growled, his mouth moving down to her neck. He nipped at her skin, soothing the sting with his tongue. "You taste so fucking good."
Emmy whimpered; she could feel the bulge in his jeans, the hard length of him pressing against her stomach. She could feel her panties getting wetter as her father's hands explored her body. Smith lifted her daughter and set her on his woodworking table, swiping away his tools and plans.
Emmy gasped at the cool wood against her skin, the rough grain pressing against her delicate flesh. She spread her legs instinctively, giving him better access to her.
Smith growled, "You want this, don't you, Em?" His hands gripped her thighs, his thumbs caressing the soft skin.
"Yes," Emmy breathed out, her head falling back. "I want it, Daddy. I want you."
Smith's eyes darkened, his hands moving up her thighs, under her skirt. His fingers hooked into her panties and yanked them down roughly.
Emmy's breath hitched as the cool air hit her exposed pussy. She could feel the moisture seeping from her, her arousal soaking her thighs. Smith's eyes locked onto her pussy, his gaze intense and hungry.
"Fuck, Em. Look at you. You're so fucking wet," he growled, his voice thick with desire.
His hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her to the edge of the table. Emmy's heart pounded in her chest as she watched her father kneel between her legs. His hot breath fanned over her sensitive skin, making her squirm.
She could feel his eyes on her, devouring her. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. She'd never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But with Smith, it was different. It was safe. It was a plea, a question, a prayer.
Smith looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. He gave her a wicked grin, then leaned in, his tongue darting out to lick her from bottom to top. Emmy gasped, her hands fisting in her skirt. It felt so good, so fucking good.
Smith's tongue lapping at her pussy, his stubble grazing her inner thighs, his hands gripping her ass, keeping her in place. Emmy panted, her chest heaving as she watched him. He was focused, determined, like he was carving something beautiful out of her.
He licked her again, his tongue flat, soaking up her juices. "Fuck, Em, you taste like heaven," he groaned. His hands moved from her ass to her clit, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Emmy gasped, her hips bucking against his hand.
"Oh God, Daddy. Right there," she moaned, her eyes fluttering closed. Smith chuckled, his breath hot on her clit. "That's right, baby girl. Let me make you feel good." He pressed down harder on her clit, circling it faster. Emmy's breath hitched, her body tensing as pleasure coursed through her. Smith slipped two fingers inside her, curling them upwards. Emmy cried out, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "Fuck, Daddy. You're so fucking deep." Smith groaned, his fingers pumping in and out of her.
He could feel her muscles clenching around him, her wetness coating his skin. He added a third finger, stretching her, making her gasp. "You're so fucking tight, Em," he growled. "But I know you can take it."
Emmy whimpered, her body trembling with need. She could feel her orgasm building, like a pressure cooker about to explode. "Daddy, please," she begged. "I need more."
Smith looked up at her, his eyes glinting with lust. He leaned in, his tongue flicking against her clit as he continued to finger fuck her.
Emmy's back arched off the table, a loud moan escaping her lips. "Fuck, Daddy, that feels so good."
Smith grinned, his tongue circling her clit faster, his fingers pumping in and out of her with more force. He could feel her getting closer, her body tensing, her breath coming in short gasps.
"That's it, baby girl," he growled. "Come for me. Come all over my fingers."
Emmy's hands fisted in Smith's hair, her hips bucking against his face. "I'm... I'm gonna come, Daddy.
Fuck, I'm gonna come so hard." Emmy's body tensed, her muscles clenching around Smith's fingers as her orgasm crashed over her. She threw her head back, a scream ripping from her throat. "Fuck! Right there, Daddy, don't stop!"
Smith didn't stop. He kept his fingers buried deep inside her, his tongue lapping at her clit, drawing her orgasm out as long as possible. Emmy could feel her pussy pulsing around him, her juices soaking his fingers, his chin, his beard. She was dimly aware of the mess she was making, but she didn't care.
All she could feel was the intense pleasure coursing through her veins, the heat of her father's mouth between her legs, the roughness of his beard against her sensitive skin.
As her orgasm subsided, Smith slowly pulled his fingers out of her, his tongue still lapping at her clit, soothing her sensitive flesh. Emmy panted, her body limp and boneless, her muscles trembling. Smith stood up, his eyes never leaving hers as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans down, his hard cock springing free.
Emmy's breath hitched at the sight of him.
She'd never seen her father like this, his cock hard and throbbing, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. She licked her lips, her pussy clenching at the thought of him inside her.
Smith stepped closer, his hand wrapping around his cock, stroking it slowly. "You want this, Em?" he growled, his voice low and rough. "You want me to fuck you with my big, hard cock?"
Emmy nodded, her eyes locked onto his. "Yes, Daddy. I want it."
Emmy's voice was barely a whisper, but it held all the pent-up desire, all the longing she'd been feeling. She licked her lips, her eyes never leaving her father's cock.
Smith groaned, his hand tightening around his shaft. "Good girl," he said, his voice thick with lust. "Because I'm going to fuck you like you've never been fucked before. I'm going to make you feel things you've never felt."
He moved closer, his cock brushing against her wet pussy. Emmy gasped at the contact, her hips bucking against him.
She could feel the head of his cock pressing against her entrance, teasing her. "Please, Daddy. Please fuck me," she begged, her voice needy, desperate.
Smith chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Not yet, baby girl. I want to make you beg for it."
He moved his hips, rubbing his cock against her pussy, coating himself in her juices. Emmy whimpered, her hands gripping the edge of the table, her knuckles white. "Daddy, please. I need you.
I fucking need you, Daddy. Please, just fuck me." Her words were desperate, pleading, her voice shaking with need.
Smith groaned, his eyes locked onto hers. He could see the desperation, the hunger in her eyes, and it sent a bolt of lust straight to his cock. He pushed the head of his cock into her, just an inch, letting her feel how big he was, how much he was going to stretch her.
"Fuck," Emmy gasped, her eyes widening. "You're so big, Daddy.
I don't know if I can take it," Emmy whimpered, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and desire.
Smith smirked, his hands gripping her hips tighter. "You can take it, baby girl. I know you can. You're stronger than you think."
He pushed in further, another inch of his cock disappearing into her tight, wet heat. Emmy gasped, her back arching off the table as she tried to adjust to the intrusion.
"Oh God, Daddy, it hurts," she cried out, her nails digging into the wood of the table.
Smith paused, his cock pulsing inside her.
"This might hurt at first, baby girl. But I promise you, it'll feel so fucking good."
He pushed in deeper, another inch, stretching her further. Emmy gritted her teeth, her body tensing as she adjusted to the size of him. "You're so big," she panted, her hands fisting in his shirt.
Smith groaned, his eyes never leaving hers. "You take it. Take all of me."
He pushed in further, another inch, then another, until he was fully sheathed inside her. Emmy gasped, her eyes watering at the sensation.
Her pussy was so full, so fucking full. She couldn't believe her father's cock was all the way inside her. "Fuck, Daddy," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You're so deep."
Smith groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "You feel so goddamn good. So tight and hot."
He pulled out slowly, inch by inch, until just the tip of his cock was left inside her. Emmy whimpered at the loss of sensation, her body already craving more. Smith thrust back in, slow and steady, filling her completely.
Emmy gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as he began to move, his hips pulling back and then slamming into her, hard and fast. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the shop, a primal, filthy soundtrack to their fucking.
Emmy's breath came in ragged gasps, her hands clawing at Smith's chest, her nails digging into his skin. She could feel every inch of him, stretching her, filling her, claiming her. It hurt, but it was a good hurt, a delicious ache that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her veins.
She could feel every ridge and vein of her father's cock as he pounded into her, each thrust sending a jolt of ecstasy straight to her core. She could feel the wood of the table biting into her back, the roughness of it a stark contrast to the smooth, slick heat of her father's cock inside her.
"Fuck, Daddy, right there," she moaned, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts. "Fuck me harder. Fuck me like you hate me."
Smith's eyes darkened at her words, his grip on her hips tightening until his fingers left bruises.
"You fucking like that, don't you? You fucking like it when I fuck you hard, baby girl?" he growled, his voice raw with lust and desire.
Emmy nodded, her head thrashing from side to side. Yes, I fucking love it," she cried out, her nails digging deeper into his skin. The pain was exhilarating, a sharp contrast to the pleasure pulsing through her body.
Smith grunted, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, more brutal. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, a filthy symphony that drove Emmy wild.
She could feel her father's cock hitting the deepest parts of her, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. The wood of the table creaked and groaned under their weight, the scent of sawdust and sex filling the air.
"Fuck, Em," Smith grunted, his breath coming in ragged pants. "You're so fucking tight. Your pussy feels like a fucking vice, squeezing my cock so fucking good."
Emmy moaned, her hands gripping the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. "Yes, Daddy, yes. It's all yours.
Fuck me like you own me, Daddy. Make me feel it."
Smith's eyes blazed with lust and possession. He pulled out almost all the way, leaving just the tip of his cock inside her, before slamming back in, hard and deep. Emmy screamed, her back arching as he hit that spot inside her, the one that made her see stars.
"That's it, baby girl. Take it. Take my cock like a good little slut," Smith groaned, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm.
Emmy could feel her orgasm building, like a storm surge, threatening to drown her.
Every thrust of Smith's cock sent electric shocks of pleasure shooting through her, every rough grip of his hands on her hips pushed her closer to the edge. She could feel the heat of his body, the sweat dripping from his forehead, the way his muscles bunched and flexed under her touch.
"Daddy, I'm close," she panted, her voice barely a whisper. "God, I'm so close."
Smith's eyes were locked onto hers, his gaze intense, almost feral. He could see the desire, the need, the desperation in her eyes.
He knew what she wanted, what she needed, and he was going to give it to her. "Good girl. Come all over my cock," Smith growled, his voice low and dark.
He reached between them, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing it hard and fast. Emmy's eyes widened, her breath hitching as he sent her spiraling over the edge.
"Daddy, yes! Right there, fuck, right there!" she screamed, her body convulsing as her orgasm crashed over her.
Her pussy clenched around Smith's cock, her inner muscles milking him, trying to pull him deeper. Smith groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he felt her come apart. Fuck, she's so fucking hot when she comes, he thought, his hips stuttering as he fought to maintain control.
Emmy's breath came in ragged gasps, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. She could feel her father's cock pulsing inside her, could feel the heat of his release. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with lust and desire.
"Daddy, I want to feel you come inside me," she begged, her voice raw with emotion. I want everything."
Smith groaned, his control snapping. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a brutal, punishing kiss. He thrust into her, hard and deep, his hips slamming against hers with each thrust. He could feel her pussy convulsing around him, her inner muscles clenching and releasing, trying to pull him deeper.
"Fuck, Em," he grunted, his voice barely recognizable. "Your pussy feels so fucking good.
Squeeze me again, baby girl. Squeeze my cock with that tight little cunt of yours."
Emmy did as she was told, clenching her inner muscles around her father's shaft. Smith threw his head back, a guttural groan escaping his lips. "Fuck yeah, just like that. You're gonna make me come so fucking hard, Em. You're gonna make me fill your pretty little pussy with my cum."
Smith's hands gripped her thighs, his fingers digging into her flesh as he buried his cock deeper into her.
Emmy wrapped her legs around his hips, her heels digging into his ass, urging him to move faster.
"That's it, Daddy. Fuck me harder. Fill me up with your cock," she pleaded, her voice hoarse with desire.
Smith obliged, his hips moving like a piston, slamming into her with brutal force. Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through her, her body trembling with the force of his thrusts. You feel so goddamn good," Smith grunted, his forehead resting against hers. "Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby girl. I'm- I'm about to- " Smith's words were cut off by a low groan as he thrust into her deep and hard, his cock pulsing as he came. Emmy felt the heat of his release, the way his cum filled her, coating her insides. She moaned, clenching around him, milking him for every last drop.
Smith's body shook with the force of his orgasm, his breath coming in ragged pants. He kept his cock buried deep inside her, letting the sensation of their connection wash over him. Emmy could feel his heartbeat against her chest, could feel the sweat dripping from his body onto hers as his cum filled her up.
She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, the scars from years of working with wood. She loved this man, her father, her lover. She loved the way he made her feel, the way he challenged her, the way he claimed her.
Smith pulled out slowly, his cock sliding out of her with a wet sound. "Eager, aren't we?" he said, his voice thick with lust.
"Daddy, that was incredible. Can we please do this again?" Emmy asked, her voice breathless as she lay back on the table, her body sated and limp.
Smith chuckled, stepping back and looking down at her. "Incredible, huh? You're damn right it was." He reached down and grabbed a rag from the ground, wiping the sweat and cum from his body before offering it to Emmy. "But we're not done yet, baby girl. I told you I was going to teach you about woodworking, and I meant every word."
Emmy propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes wide with confusion. "What do you mean? I thought..."
"If you turn up on time tomorrow, then maybe we can do this again. But now you're going to knuckle down, clean yourself up and drink some water. Then you're going to learn how to properly make a dovetail joint, alright?" Smith said in a no-more-messing tone.
"But first, I need you to clean up my table, Emmy."
Emmy blushed, looking down at the mess they'd made - sawdust, wood shavings, and their mingled fluids. "Uh, yeah, sure, Dad," she said softly, sitting up to fetch a rag and a bucket of water.