top of page

C|SUITE LETTERS: My Daughter's Hot College Friend


My Daughter's Hot College Friend

Dear C|Suite,

I never thought that I would confess this, but my daughter has a smoking hot friend from college; they both play on the Women’s State Volleyball team here—I’ll call her "Alice".

My daughter (“Sam”) goes to the our state's college (which is close to home) and has brought Alice to dinner a few times, so we’re on a friendly basis. By the way, did I mention that she[Alice] is a total knockout, along with all her other squadmates on the team?

I mean, c’mon…they play volleyball.

Alice has a beautiful face, slender build, light blonde hair, Mediterranean sea colored eyes, long legs, an hourglass waist and an absolutely incredible set of medium-size, perky tits—B-cups at least. She’s always friendly to me and of course I’m always thrilled to see her, but I try to keep my cool and just be her friend’s dad.

I mean, seriously… she’s half my age.

What could we both have in common besides having lustful, instinctual, primal sex with each other?

But still, when my daughter told me Alice was staying over last Saturday night so that they could have a “pool day” on Sunday, my mind began racing for excuses to be out in the yard near the pool. I decided that Sunday would be a great day for me to “organize the toolshed”. (Hey, judge me if you want—this is a confession.)

Until then I’d only seen Alice wearing jeans, cute tops and of course those tight volleyball shorts that seem to get shorter every year! Needless to say, my mind was racing with visions of her in a bikini.

I went to work in the shed mid-morning. My daughter Sam is a late sleeper (and slow to get up). Apparently Alice decided to get started early by herself, because she strolled out the backdoor and up to the pool all on her lonesome; strong, brave and independent as she is. I was expecting a cute little bikini, but what she was wearing took my breath away and also the free space left in my jeans...

Okay, first off, it was a one-piece.

One-pieces are tame, right?

Not this one. If Jessica Rabbit wore a bathing suit, this would be it: Brightly-colored, and open down the middle all the way to her smooth tummy, it showed a tremendous amount of cleavage and just barely covered enough of Alice's (perfect, round) breasts to hide her nipples.

Fuck my life. It’s a blessing and a curse to have a daughter with hot college age friends.

Even with my sunglasses on I’m sure it was obvious I was staring.

Alice sees me, smiles and waves.

“Hey, Mr. G!” (She always calls me that.)

I wave back, and she strolls around the pool, dipping her toes in. As she turns away from me I learn that this bathing suit has a thong backside. I also learn her ass is perfect as well (which I had already guessed from how she rocks a pair of jeans and Vball shorts).

I try to focus on “working” but I can’t help sneaking glances. After a minute or two, she still hasn’t gotten into the pool. So I asked her, as casually as I could, if the water was an okay temperature.

She laughs and says, “Oh yeah, it’s fine, I’m just waiting for [Sam] to come down so she can take some shots of me before I get wet.” I laugh and tell her it could be a long wait. She rolls her eyes, “I knowwww. Right?”

Then her eyes widen. “Hey Mr. G, would you mind taking them for me?!”

“Um, sure,” I stammer. “I just need your phone.”

“Oh right. Ugh, I left it upstairs in Sam's room.” She looks up at the upstairs window, as if her phone might magically fall down to her, and then back at me.

“Hey… you have a real camera, right?”

“Yes, I do,” I manage to stammer.

Her eyes light up. “Can you take some shots and send them to me later?”

“Um. Sure.”

I’m sort of in a daze at this point.

I step inside, get my Nikon (I’m an amateur photographer), and come back out.

She looks excited. For the first shot, she poses in front of the pool, one hand on her thigh, the other behind her. What a fucking naughty angel, I think to myself.


Then she sits cross-legged on the edge of the pool, her hands holding her ankles, gazing at the camera with the serene confidence of a young woman who knows want she wants, and most likely knows she is sporting a slight, deep set camel-toe at this moment.


Still sitting, she dips one long leg into the water in a single graceful motion.

She’s mentioned her dance background before, now I’m seeing it in action.


Then she asks for a close up. I move in, and she leans forward, her arms squeezing her tits together. She’s looking into the camera, which means it feels like she’s looking at me. Her expression is innocent, with just a hint of a smile.


Next she smoothly lowers herself into the water, still facing me. Tits wet with beads of water running down. At this point, I have the most enormous hard-on of my life, and I pray she doesn’t notice.


She says, “Okay, hold on” and pushes my daughter’s donut-with-sprinkles inner tube into the middle of the pool. Then she launches herself onto it, face forward, back arched, perfect ass tilted up to the blue sky with variable clouding.


Just as I’m lowering the camera, my daughter Sam walks out into the backyard.

Shit, I think to myself. I freeze.

Related Read

“Oh my god! Is he showing you his camera?”

Alice laughs. “Yea, only because I asked him to.” She flashes me a grin.

“Dad. You’re such a fucking dork!” Alice giggles at my daughter’s attempt to ridicule.

“C’mon Sam, I think it’s cute your dad has a cool hobby.”

Sam sighs. “Anyway, don’t get him started on lenses. Jeeezus…”

Right after she said this, Sam jumped into the pool and resurfaced, pulling her hair back and wiping it away from her eyes along with the water. She turned to Alice.

“Okay, Dad. You can put away your toy…that thing doesn’t have any filters soo—“ she paused.

“Girl, where is your phone…why aren’t you just using yours?”

“Alice said she left it upstairs...that’s why I pulled out my Nikon.” I said, trying to shift my stance so that my deflating penis could go back into a neutral position. “I can go find it since I am the only one not wet.” I added, reminding myself that I needed to work on my phrasing more as a father and husband.

“Thanks Mr. G! You’re the best. It should be either on Sam’s dresser or in my overnight bag in the compartment sleeve where I keep my panties. You don’t mind going in there, do you?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, I’ll survive…” I said while immediately telling myself to quickly "shut-the-fuck-up, Mr. G..." under my own breath as I began walking toward the house.

I could hear whispering behind my back as I got closer to the sliding patio door.

“Oh my God…your Dad is like so hot with that camera of his.”

“Shut-up, Alice…I hate when you do this.”

“I am just messing with you, geesh. He was so cute though, just saying..”

When I got upstairs to my daughter’s room, I looked on-top of her dresser for Alice’s phone. Phone was absent. I checked the nightstand; zilch there too.

I looked toward Sam’s desk chair and there was Alice’s overnight bag.

Like any concerned parent, I thoroughly snooped like a amateur detective— more like rifled— through every pocket seeing if there were any good drugs…because you know…you want the best for your kid and her not to be hanging around with degenerates.

Anyways, I went straight to where I thought Alice would surely keep her panties.

Lipstick, hair ties, pair of jeans, yoga shorts, socks. Nothing exciting.

On the left side pocket, I happened to find a small vibrator.

I hate my life now.

I hated the boner I had. I kept searching and tried so hard to not get sidetracked from finding Alice’s phone. I found it in the right side pocket with her panties: Dark blue cheeky Maidenform hipster with lace underwear that smelled like lavender, and a pair of Black bikini styled that I quickly deduced had be used/worn. I could smell and see traces of Alice on them.

Of course, her phone was password protected. (Don’t judge me and don’t say you wouldn’t have done the same.)

Moral compass?

I go to Church every other Sunday, thank-you!

For shits and fits I tried to guess what Alice’s password could be. All I can think when it comes to Alice is, “Hot dumb blonde”. So, I typed in 1,2,3,4 on the keypad.

Success! Praise be, Gen Z.

Went immediately into her gallery and you would not believe what I saw next.

Yes, it was a nude. But it was of my daughter; her tits hanging out in their team’s locker room. I was instantly mortified.

But then I quickly scrolled and saw the whole team naked, including Alice. I instantly felt better.

Pictures and videos of them twerking and grabbing each other’s tits, spanking and making out after their big Division I championship win last year. I had the most confused erection of life. On one hand I just briefly saw my own daughter’s fully mature breasts. On the other hand, a smorgasbord of nude pics and vids of the rest of the team…including Alice whom is probably the hottest one on the team.

It was breakeven for me.

So I did what any red-blooded American husband (married for 20 years to the same woman) would do in that situation; I quickly went to the bathroom and masturbated, furiously.

It didn’t take too long because I brought Alice’s phone with me for assistance and used the photos of her butt-naked in the locker room; she had taken some privately on her own at her home.

When I was finished with wrestling with my conscience and manhood, I quickly ran downstairs and fixed myself a drink; a refreshing Tom Collins. I looked out the window, my daughter and Alice were still occupied in the pool…floating around uselessly and being lazy as can be like two typical white women from North America.

Perfect. I thought.

I then did the thinkable and most obvious thing any of you would do: I added myself as a contact on Alice’s phone; sent all the nudes to myself; then deleted myself as a contact.

Thankfully my overweight wife went to yoga class this morning.

After composing myself, and making sure my fly was up and no protein stains, I made my way back outside to the pool; a stiff drink in one hand and Alice’s phone (with all her nudes) in the other.

“Mr. G! You’re back…um, what took you so long…?” Alice was beaming.

“Oh my God, dad…are you’re drinking already…it’s not even 10 A.M.?”

I took a sip of my Tom Collins and then raised the glass, “Just had to take a load off.”

I bent down by the poolside, gave Alice her phone and winked at her as my daughter spun around on her floaty.

I then retreated hastily to the toolshed, where I basically hide for the rest of the afternoon.

Later, after they both left for Starbucks, I opened up my laptop (which I left sitting on the kitchen table) to find a handwritten note inside: “Don’t forget to send me the you-know-whats :)” Next to it is her[Alice's] number.

I’m well aware that it might be an extremely bad idea, but I feel powerless not to. So I pull the RAW files off the camera and adjust the levels/balance/etc in Photoshop. Just seeing the images turns me on all over again.

My god, she’s gorgeous. I can’t help it; I pause for ten minutes to do something I’m not proud of.

No, I didn’t grease my gator again, but by now I am sure you all know what I did if you’ve read the news lately about our women’s volleyball team. In addition, Alice (thanks to me) has now gained massive amounts of Instagram followers. Most likely not from the pictures I had taken of her by my pool. If she ever finds out it was me who leaked the nudes, she can thank me later, I hope. I mean, I know she will and would appreciate what I did.

Anyways, I texted her the jpegs that were from my Nikon.

A few minutes later Alice responds: “Wow, these look amazing!! They never come out this good when I do them!”

I reply, “That’s what a real camera will do for you!”

Her response: “Um, AND a real cameraman. I need to get you to do all my selfies :).”

Me: “Haha. About that. It might be weird if you posted those.”

Her: “Don’t worry. Sam will never see these. They’re for my [popular amateur site which shall not be named].”

Me: “Really?”

Her: “Yup. I’ve had it for a while now. I blur out my face and pretend I live in [different country].”

Me: “Jesus. Why are you telling me this?”

Her: “Because I trust you. And I want you to take more pictures of me.”

I don’t reply, because I’m not sure what to say. It seems like a great idea and also a very bad one.

Her: “Think about it, okay? :P”

Me: “Okay.”

Her: “Cool. I think it would be really fun :)”

And that’s where we left it.

Sometime after I told my daughter that she should have Alice over for Thanksgiving dinner with us, heck, I even mentioned she could invite the whole team. It was the least I could do, I felt guilty.

Her response was, “Okay, but just please don’t be a dork and take that Nikon out again in front of all my friends.”

Me: “Yes. I don’t think that will be necessary this time...”

Needless to say, I think this year there will be some interesting conversations around the dinner table at Thanksgiving…

Yours Truly Horny,

Mr. Top G


Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page