Alan released her and smiled when he saw the tinge of passion on her cheeks and in her blue eyes. "Didn't you like it?"

Melanie caught her breath, nodded. "Yes, Dad," she said, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "But, shouldn't you save those kisses for Mom?" She was shaking inside.

Alan ogled her small pulpy tits through the robe. Without speaking he brought his hand to her tit and pressed it against his palm. He felt her hard nipple.

A gasping sigh escaped Melanie's mouth. "Dad… please don't do that." She stepped back, frightened, yet at the same time wanting him to do it again.

"Do what, baby?" he rasped, bringing his hand back to her tit.

He squeezed, watching a wave of passion sweep over her innocent face. His throat went dry. She was just like her mother – always hot and eager for anything.

This time Melanie didn't move. Her breathing became rapid and she was trembling, wanting to back away, but unable to make her legs work.

"Stop, Dad," she said meekly.

Alan ignored his daughter's weak protest. "Shhh, baby."

He opened her robe and caressed the smooth, silky flesh of her tits. He cupped one plump globe of warm flesh, the hard nipples burning into his palm.

"They're very pretty, baby," he said hoarsely, his eyes glues to her bared titties.

The touch of her father's hand on her bare tit made her shake. "Dad… stop! Please."

Alan continued to ignore his daughter. "Don't talk, baby." He brought her into his arms and eased her down on the bed, his mouth plastered to hers.

Melanie felt as if she were going to faint. His hand was inside her robe, rubbing and caressing the soft flesh of her thighs. Knowing her pussy was soaked, she clamped her legs together, afraid of what he might do if he knew.

Alan's head was reeling. He kissed her face and neck, her whimpering sobs of protest only fanning the flames of his lust. He shoved her robe off her shoulders and tongued her sizzling flesh down to the plump meat of her creamy white titties.