"Daddy, can you help me with this?" Misty called out from her room, her voice echoing through the quiet house.

Her father, a towering figure with a chiseled jaw and the physique of a man who's spent his life fighting fires, poked his head in. "Sure, baby girl. What's up?"

Misty sat at her desk, books scattered around her, chewing on the end of her pen. She had her legs crossed, revealing a hint of her bare thighs beneath her short skirt. "I just don't get this calculus problem," she pouted, twirling a lock of her long wavy hair around her finger. "It's just so hard."

Her father, Charles, stepped into the room, his eyes immediately drawn to the curve of her hips. He felt his heart rate spike, his body reacting to the allure that had been growing stronger each day. Forcing his gaze to her textbook, he tried to keep his thoughts from going to that place in his mind that they shouldn't be. "Let me take a look," he said, his voice gruff with a hint of restrained desire.

Misty looked up at him with those big doe eyes, her heart racing. She knew he was attracted to her; the way he'd been looking at her had changed over the past few months, and she couldn't ignore the bulge that often formed in his pants. She felt a thrill of power at the thought of it, a heady cocktail of excitement and fear. As he leaned over her, she caught a whiff of his musky scent, a scent she'd known her whole life but now filled her with something new, something she didn't quite understand.

Her father, Charles, cleared his throat and tried to focus on the textbook, his hand shaking slightly as he pointed at the page. "Okay, so you see here, you need to apply the chain rule," he began, his voice a bit too loud in the tense silence. Misty leaned in closer, her ample breasts pressing against his firm chest. She felt his body tense, and she knew he felt it too. The air in the room grew thick with an unspoken tension that neither of them knew how to cut through.

Misty's heart was racing in her chest, her panties growing wetter by the second. She looked up at her father, his eyes dark with something she'd never seen before. "Thanks, Daddy," she murmured, her voice low and sultry. She reached out and placed her hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes darting to hers before looking away again.

The room was charged with electricity, the tension palpable as they both sat there, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall. Misty could feel the heat radiating from her father's body, and she knew he could feel hers. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with each inhale. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't help herself. The taboo thrill was too much to resist.

The next day, Misty walked into her calculus class with a newfound confidence. Her father's unspoken desire for her had ignited something in her, something that made her feel alive and powerful. She focused intently on the material, her mind racing with thoughts of what could happen between them. When the test was finally passed back to her, she saw the big red 'A' scribbled at the top. She couldn't wait to share her victory with him, eager to see the proud look in his eyes.

As she left the classroom, her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a text from her Daddy. "Hey Mist, got called into work. Gonna be a late night at the station. Don't wait up for me, okay?" Her heart sank, but the disappointment was quickly replaced by a thrill of opportunity. If he was working late, she'd have the house to herself to prepare something special for him. She bit her lower lip, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Misty hurried home, her mind racing with ideas. She knew exactly what to do. She'd make him his favorite peanut butter cookies, the ones that brought a soft smile to his face every time she baked them.

In the kitchen, she pulled out all the ingredients. The smell of sugar and butter filled the air as she creamed them together, her hands moving quickly with anticipation. She added the peanut butter, feeling the thick mixture stick to her fingers, and couldn't help but think of how much she wanted to feel her daddy stick to her. She giggled to herself, feeling a warm blush spread across her cheeks. She rolled the dough into perfect little balls, placing them on the baking tray with a flourish. As the oven heated up, she went to her room to change into something that she knew would really get his attention.

Misty slipped into a low-cut blouse and a pair of tight shorts that barely covered her round, firm ass. She applied a touch of makeup, just enough to highlight her innocent beauty without looking too obvious. Her nipples were already hard, poking against the fabric, and she gave them a little pinch, imagining her daddy's rough hands touching her. She took a deep breath and headed back to the kitchen, the smell of baking cookies wafting through the house.

The cookies were perfectly golden when she pulled them out of the oven. She let them cool on a rack, her mouth watering as she thought about serving them up to Charles. She arranged them on a plate with a small note that read, "For my hero."

With a mischievous smile, Misty grabbed the plate and her keys and headed out the door. The night air was cool, and she could feel it on her skin as she drove to the fire station. Her heart was racing with a mix of excitement and nerves.

The station was bustling with activity as she pulled into the lot. The garage doors were open, revealing the gleaming red engines and the men in their gear. She felt a flutter in her stomach as she walked in, the scent of sweat and smoke mingling with the faint smell of diesel. She spotted her daddy, talking with the other firemen, their laughter echoing off the high ceilings.

Misty took a deep breath and approached him, holding the plate of cookies with both hands. "Daddy," she called out, her voice barely audible over the din. The men turned to look at her, their eyes widening in surprise. She felt self-conscious under their gazes, but she pushed through, the desire to please her daddy giving her the strength she needed.

Charles's eyes lit up when he saw her, and he quickly excused himself from the conversation. "Misty, what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and concern.

Misty held out the plate with a flirty smile. "I wanted to surprise you with your favorite cookies, Daddy," she said, her voice a seductive purr that didn't go unnoticed by the other men in the station. They watched the exchange with a mix of curiosity and envy.

Her father took the plate with a grateful smile, his eyes never leaving hers. "You really didn't have to," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But thank you, baby girl. These will be perfect for our break."

Misty felt a rush of pride as she watched him take a cookie, his teeth sinking into the soft, warm dough. She licked her lips, imagining it was her skin he was tasting. The other firemen cast glances in her direction, their eyes lingering on her curves. She could feel their lust, but she only had eyes for her daddy.

"Why don't you stay here and keep me company?" he suggested, his voice low and husky. "It's quiet right now. Maybe we could go over some more of your calculus."

Misty's heart skipped a beat. "I'd love to," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She followed him into a small office at the back of the station, the heat from his body making her even more aware of her own arousal. She sat on the edge of the desk, her legs swinging gently as he took a seat in a chair opposite her.

The room was dimly lit, the only sound the occasional crackling of the radio and the distant murmur of the other firemen. Charles cleared his throat, setting the plate of cookies aside. "So, where are we at with this calculus?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers.

Misty leaned back, her legs parting slightly. She knew the effect she had on him, and she reveled in it. "Well, Daddy, I was hoping you could show me that chain rule again," she said, her voice a breathy whisper. She watched as his eyes dropped to her legs, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

He leaned in closer, his hand reaching out to touch the textbook. His fingers brushed against her thigh, and she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her. "Like this," he began, his voice tight. His hand lingered on her skin, the warmth of his touch searing through the fabric of her shorts.

Misty's breath hitched in her throat as she watched him, her heart pounding. The way he was looking at her, it was like he couldn't resist anymore. "Daddy," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I think I need a little... extra help."

Charles looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. He knew he should stop, that this was wrong, but the pull was too strong. "Okay, baby girl," he said, his voice gruff. He scooted his chair closer to the desk, his knees brushing against hers. "Let's go through it together."

Misty leaned forward, her breasts pressing against the edge of the desk. She watched as his eyes dipped down to her cleavage, and she felt a thrill of excitement. This was it. The moment she'd been dreaming of. The moment she'd been working up the courage to make happen.

Her father cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Okay, so the chain rule is used when you're differentiating composite functions," he began, his voice a little shaky. His hand hovered over the textbook, his fingers brushing against hers. She felt the heat of his touch, and she couldn't help but lean into it, her breathing growing heavier.

Misty bit her lower lip, watching him closely. The way his eyes kept flickering down to her chest made her even more aware of her own body. She knew he was fighting it, but she also knew she had him right where she wanted him. She reached out and took his hand, placing it firmly on her thigh. "Like this?" she whispered, her eyes never leaving his.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Yeah," he managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand felt hot on her skin, and she could see his knuckles turning white as he gripped the textbook tightly.

Misty slid her hand over his, guiding it up her leg. His touch grew bolder, his thumb grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She could feel the dampness between her legs, and she knew he could too. She leaned closer, their faces mere inches apart.

"Daddy, I've been having... other kinds of problems," she murmured, her eyes half-lidded. "Problems that I think only you can help me with."