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Message-ID: <63591asstr$1446545404@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Albert Speer <meatbot777@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Sins of the Father (Father/Daughter Incest, MF)
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Date: Tue, 03 Nov 2015 05:10:04 -0500
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     Title          : Sins of the Father

     Author      : MeatBot

     Keywords : Father/Daughter Incest, MF

     Date         : 20150730

     Mail          : meatbot777 at gmail dot com

     This story :
     HTML - http://www.kristensboard.com/forums/index.php?topic=26851.0
     text -
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MeatBot/SinsOfTheFather%20-%20Inc%20MF.txt

     My other stories :
     HTML -
http://www.kristensboard.com/forums/index.php?action=profile;u=26255
     text - http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MeatBot/

     Synopsis :

     An adult woman enters into a sexual relationships with her father.

     Disclaimer :

Copyright by the author. Permission is granted to archive, repost, or
publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals, anthologies of this
type of material if unaltered and attributed to the author. This is a work
of fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons
under 16 in real life.

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to reality is accidental and
would be damn surprising. Be warned that this story may involve explicit
descriptions of sexual activities, including some defined under law as
"Weird Shit". Do not read this story if you believe that fictional
characters should not have fictional sex, or if you are less than the age
of consent in your social or legal group, or if you live under a
repressive, totalitarian regime in an out-of-the-way place such as the USA.
If you like it, I did it. If you hate it, I didn't. If it offends you, it
was a misprint. If you want to sue me, I don't exist. Sue the internet
instead. Nobody's twisting your arm. Leave if you don't like crap like
this. These are just words, people. Just words.

Be warned, this is a goofy, infantile, poorly written, disgusting and
depraved story with bad punctuation, bad grammar, and lots of misspelled
words. I am not an English major. Deal with it. This story is all made up.
If you don't like it, read something else. Don't bitch at me. You have been
warned.

This story is graded <TAME> compared to some of the shit I've read in this
group.

This story is what happens when you have too much free time at work.


                              --==+==--


I had gotten into the habit, since my mother died, of stopping in and
seeing my father every day. Not exactly "checking in" on him, he's not so
old yet that he needs that, but just stopping in and saying "hi" and making
sure everything was okay with him. My fear at this time was that he'd sink
into depression and despair. I knew he had loved my mother greatly, and I
knew he'd miss her. They were married thirty-seven years, for god's sake,
and were a very close couple.

Sure enough, as the months passed, I saw him slump deeper and deeper into a
fog of depression and gloom. It was hard to get him to talk about it, of
course, since he's a guy, but I tried to make him see what was happening to
him. "Gloria, I just don't care any more!" he said to me one day, as I was
trying to give him a pep talk.

"Oh, Daddy!" I said, upset. "Don't talk like that... you've got so much
to..." I had started to say "live for" but I thought that would make it
sound like he was talking about killing himself. I went on, "look forward
to. Tina and Derrik will both start college in a few years... there's going
to be a lot going on."

He sighed heavily. I felt for him. I wished I could think of something to
get him interested in, a hobby or something. I thought idly about trying to
interest him in dating, but I thought no, it's still too soon. Maybe
someday.

"Daddy..." I finally said, "We gotta get you out, find something for you to
do. It's no good just sitting around, when you're off work."

I was glad that he still had his job. That was something to break up the
day with, and kept him busy. And I knew he liked his work. He's lucky
there, I hate mine.

"Gloria..." he said. I think he was tired already of arguing. "Don't worry
about me. I'll be okay."

"Oh, Daddy..." I sighed. I hoped he would be okay. I didn't want to see him
sink deeper and deeper into a slump. My Mom's illness and subsequent
passing had been mercifully quick, and didn't allow for luxuries like
depression at the time. I knew there was time for that, now, though.

I thought about it for several days, and came to no real conclusions. I
promised myself to watch him closely, so I could try and head off any
crisises before they began.

Time went by. He didn't seem to get that much worse, but he sure didn't get
any better. I tried to spend more time with him, without it being obvious.
It wasn't hard for me, at least, I didn't really have a life, it was either
be with him or be at the house. Since Douglas left me I had been at loose
ends, and I was guilty of what I'd basically accused my father of, not
having any interests or hobbies.


                              --==+==--


One Friday night I had nothing to do. I puttered around the house, but
couldn't find anything interesting. The kids were out, doing whatever it is
kids do nowadays, and the evening loomed before me. On impulse I jumped in
my car and drove the few miles to my father's house. He was mowing the
lawn, and I sat on his front porch and waited for him to finish. He got
done, put the mower up, and we went in the house.

"Gloria," he said, "I need a shower after that."

"Daddy," I replied, "I'll go get us some dinner while you do that."

Off I went to Basco's, and got us some sandwiches. I returned, put them on
the kitchen table, and stepped to his bedroom door.

"I'm back!" I said, and he nodded. He was preparing to put on his shirt,
and I looked at him critically. He wasn't bad at all, for an old man, his
chest was muscular, and his stomach was still slim and firm. I knew his job
kept him in pretty good shape, and it showed. What woman wouldn't be
interested in that? I thought, going back into the dining room. He looks
like he's still in his thirties. Actually, I felt like he was in better
shape than I was.

Okay, maybe not. I'm not that bad, for my mid-thirties. I've spent my whole
life trying to stay in shape, worrying about my weight. My mother had a
weight problem, and I have tried my best not to inherit it. I jog every
day, and go to the gym maybe three times a week. My son has recently taken
an interest in lifting, and it helps and encourages me to have somebody to
occasionally work out with. My son, Derrik, in fact, just the other day,
had said, "Mom, you look hot." That had pleased me, and secretly excited me
a little, to think that even teen-aged boys might think I was "hot". I know
what a "MILF" is, and after that I kind of thought of myself as one.

My dad. I thought again of my dad. There's really nothing unattractive
about him, except maybe his personality at the moment. Well, even that's
not too bad, other than the downward direction of it. He was polite and
gracious, though gloomy. I still had hopes that I could change his mood.
But what could I interest him in? I sighed.

He came out of his bedroom, and we ate. We gravitated to the couch after
that, and he found the remote.

"Daddy," I said, after a while. "There's a steam engine show at the
fairground tomorrow, wanna go?"

He shrugged without looking away from the TV. Hmm, I thought. I racked my
brain, trying to think of things that might appeal to him. I finally felt
brave.

"Daddy... have you ever thought about dating again?"

He did look at me then, he gave a "are-you-crazy" look.

"Gloria," he finally said. "Dear. You need to stop worrying about me. I
could ask you the same? Have you thought about dating again?"

I giggled, and he smiled. Well, I thought, that didn't go over too badly.

"No, I'm not ready for that shit yet," I said, and I saw his eyes flare
open when I said "shit." I giggled again.

"I should spank you for talking like that," he said.

"I might like it," I said, then stopped, almost horrified at what I'd said,
what it implied. But he acted like he didn't notice.

"Times have changed, I suppose," he said distantly. I nodded. Times had. We
talked for a while, about the kids, and my job, and then his.

"You ever think 'bout retirin'?" I asked, and he nodded.

"I think about it, but I don't know if I ever will," he said. "I'd go
crazy, just laying around here."

"Well," I said, "that's why we need to find some interests for you." He
laughed and shook his head.

"It'll happen eventually," he said. "Just don't rush me."

We sat in silence a while longer. Then, of all things, we began to talk
about long ago. This went on some time, and he seemed to enjoy it, growing
more animated. I was pleased. Except then...

"Gloria..." he said, at last, his voice low. I leaned towards him. He
suddenly seemed blue. He looked at the ground, his voice low.

"What, daddy..." I said.

"Something... something has troubled me for many years..." he said. I was
puzzled. He went on. "I need... for my sake, and yours, I need to apologize
to you..."

Oh my god, I thought. Now I knew exactly what he was talking about. Why did
he suddenly want to talk about it, after all these years? I had wondered
for years if this would ever come up, but by now I didn't think it would. I
hadn't thought about it in weeks, or maybe months, but most of my adult
life the memories, the thoughts had never been that far away.

"Daddy," I said, scooting over on the couch to be beside him. "You don't
have anything to apologize for. I had the most wonderful, beautiful
childhood possible. You and Momma did nothing except make me happy."

He was crying, now. Shit.

"Gloria, I did things... things I shouldn't have..." I sighed, wondering
how to get across my feelings about it to him.

"Daddy, dammit..." I didn't want him wasting regret over this. Over
memories, that, over the years, had become more and more dear to me. He did
do things, true. I remembered... my mind went back thirty or more years...
I remembered laying in bed, while he read to me... his hand beneath the
sheets... rubbing me. Rubbing me in that special spot, in that special way
I'd come to love so much. He made me feel good. He gave me nothing but
happiness... joy even. I know it's not right, I know as an adult I should
feel resentful and angry at the things he did. He basically molested me...
but I loved my daddy, and I had came to love the things he did to me. Came
to love them? I loved them from the start... like I said, he made me feel
good.

"Gloria, it wasn't right," he said. I leaned into him, and wrapped my arms
around him.

"Daddy," I said. "Listen. You gave me nothing but happiness. I haven't had
any regrets, all these years. I loved what you did. You made me feel
special, and loved. Maybe society would think it was wrong... but I
haven't. I'd do it again, in an instant. I knew you loved me."

"Still..." he said, his eyes streaming.

"Daddy... if it's important to you, I forgive you. But from my side,
there's nothing to forgive. To me, it meant you loved me. I looked forward
to it, every night. I loved it. You made me happy. Please remember that,
please look at it that way."

He finally dried his eyes.

"I'm just sorry..." he said. "I never should have touched you."

"Daddy... like I said, to me it meant you loved me. Just like you loved
Momma..."

"I was unfaithful to her, when I did it," he still wouldn't meet my eyes.

"No you weren't..." I said. "I was your daughter, you loved me... you
should be allowed to love your children. If you do... special things out of
love... it shouldn't count against you."

"Honey," he said. "I hope you're telling me the truth..."

"I am, Daddy," I said. "All these years, I've remembered nothing except the
pleasure, the pleasure you gave me. I never felt that good again, not even
while I was married... not even having real sex made me feel that good."

He sighed heavily. I hoped it was over... except... I actually enjoyed
talking about it, I realized. As always, revisiting those memories gave me
happiness... happiness, and I had to admit, it was a little titillating. In
fact... I was feeling all warm and squishy, down here. I laughed at myself.
Was my life this boring, that remembering a few seconds of stolen pleasure
as a child got me off? But what I'd said to him was true, it was some of
the happiest memories of my childhood. Am I weird, I thought, am I
abnormal, to make a big deal out of this? Out of, once again, being
molested, as a child? Should I be angry?

No, I decided. I had enjoyed it, as a kid. Right or wrong, it didn't matter
to me. Actually... actually, and I've thought about this before, I'm pretty
amoral, for a Midwestern farmer's daughter. I have a weird sense of right
or wrong. I'm very... I dunno, Libertarian or anarchistic or something. I
don't care what anybody in the world does, as long as they leave me alone.
And... I've done things... things that a normal person would maybe frown
on, or would surprise them. During my college years I was wild... wild and
crazy. That I married a straight-laced boring girly-man was a surprise to
me, more than anyone. When he walked away, I have to admit I was relieved.
I thought, at that time, now my life can really start. Sadly, I have done
nothing about that, though. I haven't take advantage of my freedom.

I sighed again. We just sat on the couch, and I held him. He finally began
stirring around, and we disentangled ourselves. I didn't want to stop
talking about it, but I realized it was probably hard for him.

"Daddy," I said, "We'll never speak of this again, if you wish. But I just
want you to know how happy you made me, all those years ago. Maybe it's
weird, but I'd like to say thank you... thank you for the happy memories."

He looked down and sighed. "Gloria..." he said, "you shouldn't thank me for
molesting you. It's not right."

"I mean it. I have nothing except happy memories. Like I said, I'd do it
again, in an instant."

He did look at me then, a penetrating gaze. I realized what I'd basically
said, that I'd let him do it again... but now I was an adult. I felt heat
in my face, but my heart said, fuck it... I'd do it.


                              --==+==--


I went home that evening with a lot on my mind. I felt good, though... I
felt relieved, or something, that we'd had the talk. I hoped it settled his
mind, and assuaged his feelings.

The next day, everything seemed normal. I visited Dad, we went back home
and got the kids, and went to the steakhouse. Dad seemed fine, almost
jovial, and I wondered if it had lifted a load off his mind to hash things
out with me the other night. I hoped it had.


                              --==+==--


My dad seemed even more upbeat and brighter the next afternoon. I stopped
by for a while, and we sat and talked, mostly about the kids. I spent the
whole evening there, we watched TV, and I helped him pay the bills on his
computer, like I did every month. I showed him some goofy stuff on the web
I'd found at work, and we both laughed and had a good time. He finally went
back over to the couch, and stretched out. I sat at the computer and played
around a while longer.

I found the pictures by accident; I was actually looking for a file I'd
created long ago that listed all his bills. I saw a folder named "MY STUFF"
and I just couldn't resist. I know I'm a snoop. I clicked on it, and there
were a few hundred sub-folders. From the names I realized instantly that it
was pictures of girls. I looked up. He lay on the couch, watching TV... his
eyes were half-shut, I think he was almost asleep. From where he was he
couldn't see the computer screen unless he got up and came around the
couch. I felt reasonably safe, although I realized I might have to click
the "x" and close the window in a hurry if he got up.

I was curious. I wondered what kind of porn appealed to him. Once again,
yes, I'm a snoop. And I'm not that pure, I have my share of porn on my
computer, mostly just handsome guys and big hard dicks... we all have our
little secrets. I wondered what my Dad's secrets were. It wasn't fair to
him to peek, but damn... I was curious. Did he like big boobs? Or maybe
Japanese chicks or something? I had no idea what appealed to him. I did
have a thought that this was good, it showed he had some interest in the
outside world, after Momma.

I clicked on the first folder, my heart beating wildly. There was a hundred
or so files in it, picture files. I felt vindicated, for some strange
reason. I'd been right. It had to be porn. I took a deep breath, and
clicked on the first pic.

I won't say I was shocked... but I was definitely surprised. The age of the
girl got me. It wasn't child porn, but she was definitely under-aged. Maybe
in whatever country she was from the age of consent was lower. She didn't
look American, she was dark with long black hair. She was wearing a thong
and a tiny bra, and her look was... sexy, seductive. I even felt it. I
giggled to myself. My dad's a pervert, I thought. Then I told myself, no,
he's just a normal guy. Guys like girls. He's just a guy. But... I already
knew he kinda liked little girls, he'd liked me, after all...

I didn't spend a lot of time looking, after a few dozen pics in various
folders I was satisfied that they were all about the same. It looked like
early teens mostly, in panties, bras and thongs. Very suggestive, but
barely pornographic. It titillated me a little, to think of my dad looking
at naughty pictures... and, I have to admit, I wondered what he did, while
he looked at them. I even looked on the floor for stains, and then was
embarrassed both for him and myself. I finally closed all the folders and
stood. He was asleep on the couch. I sat beside him, slouching down until I
was comfortable, and closed my eyes.


                              --==+==--


I awoke as he stirred around. I was laying forward on the couch, my head
literally in his lap. I looked at the window, and it was dark. God, what
time was it? Shit... I gotta go to work tomorrow, I remembered. I finally
got up, and he mumbled something. I looked at my phone. God almighty, it
was almost midnight. I told him goodnight, found my purse and quietly let
myself out of the house.


                              --==+==--


The next few weeks were hectic, what with school ending and all that. The
kids demanded a lot of my time, then suddenly it was summer and they were
gone, doing that stuff that kids do nowadays. I saw them in morning, and
then the late evening. I still went and saw my dad almost every night.
Weirdly, his confession and apology almost seemed to make us closer or
something. One Wednesday night I took a bottle of wine to his house, and as
we sipped it we talked deep into the night, and the things we talked about
just stunned me when I thought about it later. Before I realized it, I was
telling him of my unsatisfying sex life during my marriage, and how cold
and withdrawn my husband had become. He nodded, meeting my eyes fearlessly.

"Gloria, hon," he said, "not everyone is as lucky as your mom and I were.
I'm not ashamed to say we had a wonderful sex life. It's surprising we
didn't have any more children than you and your brother."

I laughed. I really wasn't ready for that mental image, but I was glad, for
his sake. And I was glad had found a new closeness that allowed us to talk
about things like this. I gulped the rest of my wine, and filled both our
glasses again.

"Daddy..." I just felt like pushing the envelope, for some reason. I wanted
to be naughty, that night. "Daddy, where... where did you and Momma make
love the first time?"

He laughed. It didn't seem to bother him. "It was when I was still out in
California. You know the story."

I did know the story. He'd dated her long distance, for almost six months.
He'd get off his job at the foundry Friday night, hop on his motorcycle,
and ride to here, almost fourteen solid hours of interstate. Sleep a
little, take her out Saturday night, have her back home by midnight, sleep
a little again, hop on his bike, and be back in California and ready for
work Monday morning. It was kind of a family legend. He finally moved back
here and married her, and a year later I was born.

"Anyway," he said, "one night she finally got her parents to agree to a
bike ride, and I took her out to the lake. We found a soft patch of grass,
and luckily I had a rubber one of my friends had given me. I took her
virginity as the sun sat on the water. We got in trouble for staying out so
late, but I think it was worth it to her."

"I'm sure it was, Daddy," I said, smiling at him.

"Gloria, you must realize... it was the seventies... most girls in this
area were still virgins, when they married... I think your mother felt some
guilt about it, but I appreciated that she wanted to give me that... her
hymen. By then, of course, we knew we would soon be married. Every year, on
that date... the twelfth of August... I thanked her. Every year that we
were married."

"Oh, Daddy," I said, tearing up. I leaned down and put my head in his lap.
I could tell from his voice that he was almost crying, too.

"Gloria... in spite of what I... what I did with you, I loved your mother
very much. No two people loved each other as much as we did. I'm sorry you
haven't found that... but you're young... there is still hope."

I cried softly in his lap. I didn't want to disappoint him, but I'd given
up on that hope. I still tortured myself over my failed marriage. Was it my
husband's fault, or mine? I don't think I'll ever know. I felt my Daddy's
arms around me, and felt five years old again.

"I do know that love, Daddy," I said softly. "I love you that much. And I
know you love me."

"Yes, darling," he said, and rested his cheek on top of my head. "That's
true... I do love you."

We just sat like that a while. My mind was churning. An idea had occurred
to me. A perfectly wonderful, delightful horrible awful idea. And why not,
I asked myself. We are both unattached. We love each other. We are adults.
Why not? Why the fuck not?

"Daddy..." I whispered. I felt him lean forward even further to hear me.

"Daddy... let me be your little girl again. Just hold me..."

He did just that, and we sat in silence a while longer, as I turned this
new idea over in my mind. There were, of course, a million reasons not to
do it. The risk was awful. But the reward... oh, I thought. Give me this.
God, if you exist, give me this. Give me some happiness. Give me a little
pleasure. At the hands of the man I love? Why not... why the fuck not? I
kept asking myself that. Why the fuck not?


                              --==+==--


I spent the night on his couch, as I often do. I drove home slowly, deep in
thought. The idea possessed me. The sheer wickedness of it made my panties
wet. I know what society considers right and wrong. I know most of the laws
of both god and man. This was an old one, and a strong one. But still...
how often in the bible, incest occurred. How often, down through history,
it was practiced. It is still practiced, in some less advanced countries.
And... to me, personally... what is right and wrong, any more? I felt like
I was almost past those constrictions. I am not a religious person. I don't
believe in, or fear, supernatural forces. I like to think I am my own
woman. What I want to do, I'm going to do, unless it hurts people. And
this? How could this hurt anyone? If I could get him to agree with it, of
course. That would be the big step... the hard part. That would require the
most thought of all, on how to pull that off.

My mind was made up in a few hours. I would try. I was going to
purposefully attempt to seduce my father. I wanted to take my mother's
place in his life. I decided to try my damnedest to make it happen.

It was Tuesday night before I saw him again. Once again, as we sat and
watched TV, I engaged him in seemingly idle talk about him and Mom. I felt
myself getting hornier and hornier. I finally got up and went through his
fridge, finding a unopened bottle of wine. I didn't even ask, I opened it
and poured us each a glass, taking the bottle back in the living room. He
didn't seem to mind, and we sat and sipped in silence. Within an hour we'd
killed the whole bottle, and I felt all loose and warm inside like what
alcohol does to me. I hoped my daddy was feeling the same, loose and
uninhibited.

I lay down further and further on the couch, finally placing my head in his
lap. He watched TV, and I reached down and took one of his hands, holding
in both of mine. He looked at me then, I'm sure wondering what I was doing.

"Nothing," I said, looking at him and smiling. I clasped his hand in mine,
inbetween my breasts, and just held it for a while. My mind was racing. I
knew what I wanted. Was it just as easy as asking? Probably not. I needed
some way to get the idea in his mind, first. I needed to prepare him for
what I was going to try and do.

"Daddy..." I said, soft and low. He looked at me. Everything I'd thought,
everything I'd planned, went out the window. "Daddy... let me be your
little girl again..."

"You'll always be my little girl," he laughed. I knew he hadn't got it. I
took a deep breath, and spoke softly. "Daddy... touch me... rub me like you
used to..."

From the look of panic in his eyes, I knew he'd certainly gotten it, now. I
felt his whole body tense up, and I was suddenly afraid he'd dump me on the
floor and run. I rolled over, burying my face in his lap, and wrapped my
arms around his torso.

"Gloria..." his voice was hesitant, and quavering. "Gloria... I think
you've had too much wine tonight..."

"No Daddy," I said, my voice muffled by his clothing. "I told you what I
wanted. Please, please... make me happy again..."

"Gloria, don't even think that. I can't, and you know it." His voice was
steadier now, steadier and harsher. I was almost in tears, I felt like I'd
jumped too far too fast, and blown any chance I might have had.

"Oh, Daddy!" I wailed into his crotch. "Please! Just let me forget about
everything and be a little girl again!"

He was silent for a while, but at least he hadn't jumped up and left the
room. I finally felt his trembling touch on my upper arm.

"Gloria... baby..." he said, "please understand. You're not yourself
tonight. Sit up and let's forget this. It was the wine talking."

I sat up, but I wasn't ready to forget it.

"Daddy," I said, "it wasn't the wine. It's what I want, and what I've
wanted for a long time. For years, in fact. We are consenting adults. We
live in the twenty-first century. Nothing we do for love is wrong. Daddy.
Think about it. We are perfect for each other. Please. Think about it."

I stood up, and found my purse. I wanted to go home and lick my
self-inflicted wounds of the spirit. I wondered if he'd even seriously
consider what I'd said. I wondered if I'd totally screwed up our
relationship, from now on. Shit. What a fool I am, I thought.

"Gloria," he said. "Sit."

I looked at him. He looked serious. I sat, trembling.

"Gloria... honey..." he said. "I'm not sure what brought this up. But I
think I understand you. I think I started this, the other night when I
brought up what I used to do to you. I think it affected you more than you
think it did."

"Daddy," I broke in, "it did affect me, and has for years. It showed me you
loved me, and I believe you still love me. I love you, and I want to show
it to you, like I want you to show it to me."

"Gloria... that's not how parents and children show their love for each
other. It's against the laws of both god and man..." he stopped as I
snorted, and patiently started again. "Darling... you know right from
wrong... I raised you that well, in spite of what I did to you..."

"Daddy," I stubbornly said, "there's nothing wrong with anything we do for
love. Love is stronger than laws. And the main reason for those laws...
pregnancy... is no longer a concern. I'm still on the pill. I won't get
pregnant."

"Gloria... parents do not have sex with their children..." I felt a
moment's puzzlement... we had started out talking about him simply rubbing
my clit... now we were at sex? Did he consider simply rubbing on me sex?
Then again, I was the one who'd brought up babies and pregnancy. He
continued. "Honey... I'm sorry... but it's just not done."

"Oh Daddy," I said, "it's probably done more than you ever dreamed of. You
just don't hear about it when it works. You just hear about the ones that
don't work, the bad ones."

He sighed heavily. I bravely repeated my earlier plea.

"Daddy... let me love you. We'd make a perfect couple. We have no strings
attached. Daddy... let me be Momma to you."

His eyes flared when I mentioned her name, and I wondered if I'd gone to
far.

"Gloria," he said, "think of your poor mother, what she would think if she
saw you acting like this. Don't do this, don't do it for her sake, for her
memory."

"Daddy," I said, "I'm doing it for her memory, because I love you as much
as she did."

"Gloria!" he was a little hot, now. "That's no way to honor her memory!
Suggesting we engage in... criminal behavior?"

"Oh, Daddy..." I sighed. "Think beyond laws and all that crap. Let's do
what we want. I was your little girl once. I'd like to think I still am.
Can you honestly say you don't want me?"

"Gloria..." he seemed at a loss for words, at last. I pressed ahead.

"Daddy... I know you like little girls... I'm sorry I can't be young again,
for that and many other reasons. But face it. You're not gonna get a little
girl. But you can get me. I'm offering, Daddy. I'm going home. Think about
it. Think about love, and how much we love each other. And think how
perfect it would be."

I gathered my stuff, and approached him. He sat stiffly on the edge of the
couch. I leaned down, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Goodnight,
Daddy," I said, and went home.


                              --==+==--


I lay in bed that night, and thought of all the ways I could have done it
better. Coulda's and shoulda's. Life is full of them. I wished I'd been a
little more organized, other than just blurting it out. I hoped I hadn't
blown what little chance I had of this working out the way I wanted it to.

My Dad is a thoughtful, methodical kind of guy. And I knew the only way I'd
get him to agree to this idea was to win a logical argument with him. That
would be hard, though. Still... I felt, deep down inside, that he did want
me, at least a little. Subconsciously, if nothing else. I mean, why not...
I'm still fairly attractive... and we were pretty close, and had seemed to
get closer the last few weeks. I hoped, god, more than anything I'd hoped I
hadn't screwed that up.

Back to what I said. A logical argument. I needed to come up with one
first, and then win it. I needed to convince him that he needed me. That he
needed me, physically. I still believed we'd make a good couple. We were so
alike in some ways we were almost the same person. I'm sure most parents
and adult children are like that, at least ones that had a good parent and
a good childhood, like I had.

All this and more went through my mind as I laid in bed. Almost without
thought, my fingers crept into my panties, and found my clit. I lay there,
feeling all warm and fuzzy, and slowly masturbated. About halfway to a nice
orgasm, I realized with a shock what I was thinking of. My dad, fingering
me like he used to. Jeezus, I breathed to myself... see? It's fate, or
destiny or something. It's really happening, I thought, it's not just a
crazy idea I have. It's supposed to happen.


                              --==+==--


With more than a little trepidation, the next day I went over to my
father's house after work. Everything seemed normal, I helped him fix
dinner and we ate, and then we sat and talked about the kids and our
jobs... all kinds of stuff. We talked about pretty much everything, in
fact... everything except what I'd started the day before. He didn't seem
to be avoiding it, it just never came up, and I wasn't brave enough to
bring it up. Well, I thought, so be it. I'll give the idea a few days to
simmer in his mind. We'll see what, if anything, comes of it. I did wonder
if he'd just sweep it under the rug, and never mention it again, hoping I
wouldn't bring it up, either. Maybe, I thought, maybe it's better that way.
Maybe it was a dumb idea. But still... the way I felt about him... the way
he made me feel... maybe it was a dumb idea, but I still wanted it to
happen. And... I realized... I wanted more. More than just a finger every
now and then... I wanted him to make love to me... I wanted my Daddy to
fuck me.

I went home that night feeling an almost over-powering urge to "do
something." That same urge that made me blurt out my feelings the other
night. I tried to reign myself in, but I was frustrated. I just wanted
something to happen, something good and positive and... satisfying. I
wanted to be happy again. And I felt like I knew what would do it.

I have a very close friend, with whom I work. I've known her for close to
ten years, now, and we share everything. I even gave her details of my
less-than-satisfying sex life, years ago when I was married. I felt like
nothing was off limits with her. This, though? Would this be? How would she
react? I knew that there were no similarities between her life and mine,
she lived with a guy, and seemed to be completely satisfied with him... I
think they were even in love, although they seemed gun-shy about actually
getting married. I envied her, at times, for the smooth almost perfect way
her life went, when mine had so many "train wreck"-ish moments over the
years.

Lisa is tall and big-boned, though very attractive. I'm petite, fairly
tiny... I know we look funny together. One of my other girlfriends once
referred to us as "The Odd Couple," and that still amuses me. Lisa is
blonde, where I'm a dark brunette, she has green eyes where I have brown.
In spite of looking nothing alike, though, we think alike about most
things. She's the sister I never had, I have always thought.

"Analisa..." I said that afternoon, in the break room. I looked around. No
one else was in the room, thank god. She leaned into me, curiosity on her
face. I think she knew me well enough to read my body english, and she knew
something was going on.

"Awww shit..." I said, unsure how to start. How do you tell your best
friend you want to fuck your dad?

"I'm going through a crisis, kinda..." I finally said. She nodded
encouragingly. "It's about my dad."

"Okay..." she said.

"I talked to my dad last week..." I wanted to break this to her gently, I
didn't want her to be upset at him for something he did thirty years ago. I
went on. "We talked about some childhood... hmm... I guess issues is the
word for it. Some unresolved things from when I was a kid."

"Yeah..." she said, nodding.

"Anyway," I said, "it's totally changed my perceptions of him. The way I
feel about him, even the way I love him."

"Positively, or negatively?" she asked.

"Oh, very positive..." I smiled, "way positive."

"Well, good then," she said. "Sometimes you need to get that shit out and
talk about it."

"Yeah," I said, "exactly. Even though... even though it's pretty far out
there..."

"Pretty far, like what?" she was understandably puzzled.

"It's about... about some things that I don't think hardly any one would
understand," I said. "Stuff that not really... that people don't talk about
very often."

"Okay," she was still puzzled. I bravely forged ahead.

"Sex stuff, I mean," I said. She frowned slightly.

"Sex stuff? With your dad?" she said, her voice low. We both looked around
to assure ourselves no one else was in the room.

"Not sex, per se..." I said, "just some stuff he used to do... stuff that
made me happy..."

"Oh, Gloria..." she said, sitting back. "whatever in the hell are you
talking about?"

I leaned into her. It was important to me that she didn't think poorly of
my father for what I was about to tell her.

"My dad used to... he used to rub me with his finger, while he read to
me... it's really one of my happiest childhood memories... I knew it meant
he loved me..."

"Your dad?" she said, almost incredulously. I knew that she'd never met
him, though I'd told her about him thousands of times over the years, and
shown her hundreds of pictures. I wondered what image of him she'd built in
her mind.

"Yeah..." I said. "I know it sounds crazy, but I loved it, and I loved him
for doing it. And I don't feel any different, now. Call me weird, but it
still makes me feel warm and fuzzy thinking about it."

"Well, different strokes, I guess," she said, shaking her head, but she
smiled, at least.

"Do you think that's weird? Or sick?" I said. She laughed sharply.

"Naw... I kinda know where you're comin' from..." she said. "I had an uncle
that did that magic finger shit to me, when I was eight or nine. I loved it
too, 'til he tried stickin' his finger in my shitter... then it hurt and I
didn't let him do that stuff no more. Years later I kinda regretted it...
'cos, hell... it was fun, at least. And naughty. Naughty still gets me off,
prolly 'cos of that."

"Yeah..." I said, surprised at her confession. Surprised, and a little
turned on.

"So," she said, "you gonna let him do it again?" She snickered, almost
evilly. I smiled again.

"Shit, Lise... I'd do it in a second if he'd do it... hell yeah. But it's
made me... it's made me think of trying something more... and please, don't
freak on me..."

"Oh god," she said, staring right into my face, her eyes wide, bright and
laughing. "Don't tell me you're gonna try and fuck your father!"

"I prefer to think I'm gonna make love to him..." I said, trying to appear
thoughtful. "But, yeah... that's kinda where I'm headed, at the moment."

"Gloria... fuck all, Gloria, you beat anything I've ever seen," I swear I
could almost hear admiration in her voice. She went on. "I don't know
anybody with bigger balls than you... damn, bitch... you rock..."

I laughed. I felt like we were over the hump.

"Lise, look where I'm comin' from... I'm a washed up old maid... but I
still yearn for love. He's an old fart, true, a widower... but he's still
virile, still, uhm... I suppose potent is the word I'm lookin' for... I
mean... I've been askin' myself all weekend... why not? Why the fuck not?"

She laughed some more. "As long as I don't have to bail your ass outa
jail," she said. We both laughed. I knew her well enough to know that she'd
accepted the idea. She wanted for me what I wanted. I knew she was okay
with it, not that it really mattered what she thought. To me, it kind of
did. I wanted my friend to be happy for me.


                              --==+==--


I worked out with Derrick Tuesday night, and stopped by my Dad's place.
Everything seemed normal, once again no mention was made of our
conversation the other night, and the revelations it brought out into the
open. I wondered if he'd ever say anything about it again. I wondered if I
would, if he didn't.


                              --==+==--


Wednesday night. Work sucked, and I was all trembly and high-strung, just
from being keyed up all day. The kids weren't home, so I went on over to my
dad's house after I changed into some jeans and a t-shirt. We talked about
going out, but in the end I found enough breakfast-type food in the fridge
to have a nice breakfast for dinner. My dad sat in the kitchen and kept me
company while I cooked. We ate, and then, as we always seemed to,
gravitated to the living room. He started the TV, but could find nothing
interesting. He finally hit the mute button.

"Gloria..." he said, and just from the tone of voice he used I could tell
"important stuff" was going to be talked about. I sat up, and gave him my
full attention, wondering what this was going to be about. But, of course,
I had a feeling.

"Gloria," he said, "you and I seem to have a new-found intimacy... or at
least the ability to talk about pretty much anything without embarrassment
or offense. I appreciate that, although I'm not sure if I'm ready to
confront what you brought up the other night." He surprised me by giving me
a penetrating look, softened by a slight smile. I nodded.

"You said something the other night that I am curious about," he continued.
"You said you know I like little girls. Why do you think that?"

I smiled back at him. I was pleased, I actually saw this as an introduction
to us talking more about what he'd just said he wasn't ready to confront...
my plans for the two of us as a couple. I saw the fact that he was willing
to talk about it even to say he didn't want to talk about it as a good
start, as crazy as that sounds. And I very badly wanted to talk about it.

"Daddy..." But I felt like this part of it might be tricky. I didn't want
him to think I was snooping or checking up on him, especially since I had
been snooping and checking up on him. "I don't want you to think I'm spying
on you, but," yes, I am an accomplished and skillful liar... "The other day
when I was doing bills on your computer I accidentally hit the recent files
icon, and some little Japanese girl in panties came up. Don't feel bad... I
have tons of porn on my computer at home, real porn... not just underwear
shit..."

He laughed, kind of, a little snort type thing. I looked at him. He was
looking at the ground. I badly wanted him to know, though, that I didn't
have a problem with what he looked at.

"Daddy, really," I said, "don't feel bad. It just showed me that you have
some interests, other than your job. Some human interests."

He snorted again, and finally faced me. "Gloria," he said, "does that have
anything to do with... with what we talked about the other night?"

I knew he actually meant what I'd talked about the other night. I saw this
as a good thing, though, anything that would bring the subject up again I
saw as a good thing.

"Daddy, yes... yes and no..." I said. I settled into the couch a little
further, steeling myself for what I hoped was a better thought out version
of what I'd just blurted the other night. "Daddy," I went on, "maybe what
you did long ago planted the seed, but I watered and nurtured it. I've
thought about this a long time." Actually, I hadn't, but in a way I had...
I'd thought about my need for love and understanding a long time, that had
to count for something. "Daddy... I need you to make me complete... to do
something that no one else has cared to do... to make me a woman."

"Gloria..." he almost laughed, and I saw that as a good sign. "Gloria,
you've been a woman for a long time. And I had little to do with that. You
can thank your mother. I wanted you to stay a little girl."

He looked thoughtful, after he'd said that. Thoughtful, and then then he
almost winced. I imagine he was thinking of the reasons he'd wanted me to
stay a little girl. Shit, I thought, he has to get over that. If we're
going to move forward with this thing, he has to get over regretting what
he did to me.

"Daddy!" I said sharply, "don't start that again. Don't feel bad about what
you did. I still, and always have, seen that as a gift from you to me. To
this day that's how I feel. Don't take that away from me, please."

He looked at me with an almost pleading look in his eyes. "Gloria," he
said, "you have to stop thinking this way. I'm your father. You have to
stop wanting more from me. I can't, I just can't. It's wrong and you know
it."

"In the eyes of society, maybe it is," I said, "but the prohibitions
against incest are old-fashioned, now that we have birth control. And the
mental stuff... Daddy, we are both fairly well settled in our minds, I
think... I know you are stronger than I am... there's no reason why we
can't work through this, why we can't overcome the barriers that society
has placed in front of us. There's just no reason why we can't, think about
it. I know you're a liberal thinker... think about it. If, of course, you
see me... as desirable..."

He sighed heavily. I wondered how deeply he was thinking about it. What I'd
said... I believed it, although the "settled in our minds" part was mostly
him. My mind was a can of worms most of the time. But I wanted this, I
really wanted this.

"Gloria..." he said, almost hesitantly. "I'm what... almost twenty years
older than you? Think about that, about our future together, if we do this.
I'll soon be an old man, and you'll be a woman in the prime of her life.
How could I... uhm... how could I continue to satisfy you?"

I looked at him, smiling. He looked embarrassed, I understood, he'd said a
mouthful. He'd defined some of the parameters of our future relationship as
pretty sexual. I almost giggled.

"Daddy, don't worry about that," I said. "I'll understand. And I'll be
around to take care of you. We'll still have many happy years together."

"Gloria... there are many downsides to this..." he said. "We would have to
hide it from everyone. No one, absolutely no one would understand."

Lisa would, I thought to myself. I'd felt like she had totally accepted the
idea the other day. Although... he was mostly correct about that one... we
would have to hide it. That wouldn't be hard, though. We'd probably be able
to be ourselves only at his house. But, he was my dad... people and their
parents were close. We could even hold hands in public, and stuff like
that. And when Tina and Derrik moved out of the house, I could just move in
with him. What would be odd about that, a daughter living with her father?

I was eager to get the ball rolling. He almost seemed receptive to the idea
tonight, at least to receptive to thinking about it.

"Daddy," I said, "come on... we are totally honest with each other... the
last few weeks have proved that. Can you honestly say you don't find me
attractive? Search your feeling about me... don't you want me?"

He gave me a frustrated look. I waited him out. Finally he spoke.

"Gloria, like you said. We are honest, to the point of pain. And it pains
me to admit... yes. Yes, I find you very attractive, and have for years.
Forever, in fact. I should be more ashamed to admit that than I am."

"See?" I said, "Daddy. There's a rightness to this that... true, no one
else will understand. But it's right, to us. You want me and I want you.
Let's stop being foolish... and... and follow our hearts."

He sighed heavily again, and sat there, still looking frustrated.

I sat beside him, and leaned into him, putting my arm around his shoulders.
He didn't flinch away from me, at least. I put my head down on chest, and
we just sat there, for the longest time.

"Gloria," he finally said. I made a noise to show him I was listening. He
continued. "I should push you away. I should do the right thing, and push
you away. I wish you understood how hard this is for me. How hard this is
on me."

"Oh, daddy," I said, "I'm sorry to pressure you. But I want this for you as
much as I want it for me. I want to see you happy again; I want to see you
in love again. I want to give you that."

"And I appreciate that, darling," he said. I waited. He went on. "But...
you have to realize... fundamentally, what you ask is wrong. I just don't
know if I can."

"Daddy," I said, "you can. Think about us. We are just two old farts,
trying to finish our lives in peace. I'm thirty six. I'm past the age of
dreams, of hopes and aspirations. I just want to finish my time out, in the
arms of someone who loves me. And I think that someone is you. I know you
love me, as much as I love you. Why not? Ask yourself... why not? There's
nothing wrong with us loving each other. There's nothing wrong with showing
it. I know it's not done, and I know what society would think. But I don't
care. Think about all the other things that you don't care about. Just
looking at little girls in panties... you don't care about what society
thinks about that. Right?"

I hoped it wouldn't embarrass him if I brought that up, but I think it did.
I bravely forged on.

"Daddy... do this for me, but as much as that, do this for yourself. You
owe it to yourself. Momma is gone. I'm stepping up, to fill her place. What
not a better person than me? I know you better than anyone on the planet. I
was made for you, by your hand, and my Momma's. I gotta think, Daddy... I
gotta think that if there is some kind of afterlife, some kind of heaven...
I gotta think that she would approve of this..."

He sighed. "Gloria," he said, "as crazy as that sounds, I almost agree,
because of what I know about your mother. Your mother had some funny ideas,
sometimes, too, just like you do. I think... I always suspected... that she
knew what I did with you... I think she allowed it... I'm not going so far
as to say she approved... but I think she allowed it, because she knew how
much I loved you. I know that sounds crazy."

"Daddy," I said, "it doesn't sound crazy at all. And I believe it, too.
And, it's right. That's the way I feel."

"Gloria, Gloria," he said, looking at his feet. "What are we gonna do?"

"Daddy," I laughed, "let's do what we want. What we both want. Let's love
each other, like people in love do. Come on, let me love you."

He laughed sharply, and shook his head.

"If we do this," he said, "we must be very careful and never let it reach
the stage of regret. We must not let guilt eat us up, or let it destroy the
closeness we have. Can we do that, do you think?"

"Yes, Daddy," I said. "I know I can, and I think you can. I've thought
about this a lot. If I thought we couldn't do it, I wouldn't have brought
it up. I have that much confidence in myself, and in you."

"There is a lot of risk," he said.

"There is," I said, "but everything has risk. Life is a risk. Daddy... we
have to try. And it'll be more than just try, I think. We'll succeed. We
have a love that's meant to be. A love that won't die."

"God, I hope you're right," he said. He just sat there, but his eyes were
meeting mine. I felt like we'd turned the corner. I was elated; I felt like
my wishes were being granted. I felt like it would happen now, probably
just a few minor details to iron out.

"Gloria," he finally said, and I met his gaze squarely. "Please. Let's go
slow. Give me time, time to think this thing out, and time to get used to
these ideas. I'm not saying yes, but I'm not saying no. Just give me some
time. Okay?"

"Yes, Daddy," I said, hugging him, pulling him closer to me. I put my head
back down and his chest, and felt his arms surrounding me, at last. I was
happy. "Daddy. I'll give you all the time you need."


                              --==+==--


We didn't talk about serious shit for the rest of the evening. That was
okay with me. I was going to do what he asked, I was going to give him
time, time to think. He didn't seem overly thoughtful, but I understood. We
watched TV, drank a little wine, and talked about the kids. I went home
about ten, checked on the kids, took a shower and went to bed.

I didn't see him Thursday, but that was okay. That'll give him a day to
think, I told myself. Friday after work Tina and Derrik followed me to his
house, and we all went to the steakhouse. Everything seemed as normal as
could be, to my pleasure, although I hadn't had any worries. The kids went
back home or to wherever kids hang out nowdays, and Daddy opened a bottle
of wine and we sipped a glass.

I was going to let him set the pace, so I didn't say anything. The evening
passed pleasurably enough, we watched TV and talked about the kids. At last
he looked at the clock. It was almost midnight.

"Gloria, it's getting late. Come to bed," he said, and just the phrasing of
his statement gave me a start. Come to bed? With him? I thought. This
quickly? Weirdly, I almost wasn't prepared for it. I stammered a reply, and
followed him to his bedroom.

"Just lay with me, Gloria," he said, as he unbuttoned his shirt. "I won't
expect anything else from you. Just let me hold you."

I'd go for that. I slowly began to unbutton my blouse, unsure how much of
my clothes to take off. He'd taken off his shirt, kicked his pants down,
and was bustling around pulling down the bedclothes in his undershorts. I
understood. I felt like this was a slow introduction to a new phase in our
closeness. Once again, weirdly, I was almost relieved. I realized I had
some mental preparation of my own to do.

I took my shirt off, unbuttoned my skirt, and for the first time in twenty
something years stood before my father in my underwear. Mental preparation
or not, I was turned on. He glanced at me and smiled, and sat on the side
of the bed. I sat beside him.

"Daddy," I said, "thank you. Thank you, and I love you."

"I love you, Gloria," he said. "Thank you for being so understanding. Thank
you for your patience with me."

We lay down, he scooted across to the other side, and he pulled up the
sheet over us. I felt him turn, felt his arm cross my body.

"Turn on your side, baby," he said. "Let me hold you."

I understood, and turned, and we lay, spoon fashion. I felt his whole body
against mine, from my head to my feet. It felt good, he was nice and warm,
and it was just comforting or something, to feel him against me. I sighed
and closed my eyes, happier than I'd been in a long time. This is really
happening, I told myself, again and again. I think I have managed to pull
this off. It hadn't happened yet, of course, but we were off to a good
start.

We talked for a while, just small talk, and it was comforting to hear his
voice. I don't remember fading out, but suddenly I awoke, in the depths of
the night. I was pressed up against his body, I think he was more on his
back than his side, now, but I was still very aware of where I touched him.
I could hear his light breathing, and I felt happy again, I just lay there,
feeling happy and loved. That he was comfortable enough to sleep with me
meant a lot to me. I wanted more, eventually, but like I said, this was a
good start.

Suddenly it was morning, and I woke up as he crawled from the bed. I lay in
bed while he showered, and then I took a quick shower while he fixed
breakfast. We ate, and tried to think of something interesting to fill the
morning with. We finally went to the farmer's market, and bought some fruit
and veggies. I checked in with the kids via my phone, and Tina agreed to
find Derrik and meet us for lunch. We did that, and the afternoon and
evening passed lazily. I left for a while, going home and doing some
housework, but returned as evening fell. As the day drew to a close, I
wondered if I would sleep in his bed again.

"Are you staying tonight?" he asked, and I nodded.

"Gloria," he said, staring at me. I nodded again. "It was very comforting
and nostalgic to have you in my bed again."

I laughed. "Any time, Daddy," I said. He was right, I had felt it, too. I
remembered crawling into bed with him and Momma many times. We had captured
that feeling completely for me, last night.

"Well," he said, "when you're ready, let's hit the sack."


                              --==+==--


The mood that night felt a little different. I had tried to do what I'd
thought about last night, I'd tried to mentally prepare myself for the next
step or steps in our relationship. I hoped I'd settled whatever issues my
subconscious seemed to be having, although my subconscious was
frustratingly secretive about what exactly those issues were. I felt like I
was prepared for another night with him, whether modest and chaste, like
last night, or physical and sensual, like what I eventually hoped for. What
will be will be, I told myself.

We undressed, and prepared for bed. I had dressed a little differently
tonight, in expectation of this, I was wearing a black bra and a sexy,
tight little thong. I'm not sure if I was trying to impress him or what,
but it satisfied something inside me to dress sexily. He noticed, I'm sure,
and I made sure I turned around so he could see my butt. We finally crawled
into bed.

We lay spoon-fashion, as we had the night before. I felt happy and secure
in his arms, feeling my body pressed against his. We talked and whispered
and giggled, and I can't think of a time when I was happier. If this is all
there ever is to it, I thought, I'll take it. I love this, just this simple
closeness with him. His body touched mine everywhere on my back, our legs
were intertwined, and my bottom pressed into his crotch. I realized with a
start that I felt something, back there, and with a feeling of wonder I
realized his erection was pressing into my butt. My dad, I told myself, my
dad has a hard-on, and it's me that gave it to him. I almost thought I
would burst. I felt a surety then, a feeling of deep satisfaction, that we
were most assuredly doing the right thing.

"Gloria, darling," his breath was hot in my ear, and tickled me.

"Yes, Daddy," I giggled, clasping his hand in mine.

"Lay down, flat on your back," he said, and he scooted back some so I
could. I wondered why, I was enjoying the spoon thing quite a bit, but I
did what he asked.

"Gloria, honey," he whispered, "I love you. I love you, I have loved you
your whole life. I will love you forever."

"I love you, Daddy," I whispered. Our faces were only inches apart, and I
felt his breath on me. I was glad I'd brushed my teeth.

"We have chosen a difficult path," he said. "There will be times of
frustration, times when you want to just throw your hands up in the air and
scream. We'll have to hide everything from everybody. I hope I can make it
worth the trouble to you. I'm going to try my damndest. I have thought
about everything you said, over the last few weeks, and I agree with you on
pretty much everything. I don't care any more if it's right or wrong, in
the eyes of god or man. I just know I want to hold you in my arms, like I
did when you were a child."

I leaned into him, and we kissed, softly. I felt tears in my eyes. He went
on.

"Gloria. Be my little girl, again." was all he said. Our lips touched
again. I started as I felt his fingers at the waistband of my panties.

With an almost puzzling numbness, I lay there. I was a little girl again. I
lay in my bed, in my attic bedroom, and he sat in the small chair beside my
bed. The solitary light on my desk was on, and cast deep shadows in the far
corners of the tiny room. My stuffed animals were arranged on a shelf, and
my books lined up by size in my bookshelf. I heard a rattle far down the
stairs, as Momma did the dishes. I was content. I had not a care or a
problem in the world. Momma and Daddy took care of everything for me. No
worries kept me awake at night; everything was taken care of, as it should
be for a child. I loved bedtime, for that and many reasons. But the main
reason... that was happening right now.

His hand had snaked down under the covers, and crept beneath the waistband
of my panties. Down, down... past my plump little mons... and into the top
of my slit. His finger was slick and damp because he'd licked it. He
pressed down a little further... and I sighed and relaxed. He began to rub,
right on my clit. I didn't know it was called a clit back then, I had no
idea what any of that stuff down there was called. I had examined myself,
on occasion, with the help of a hand mirror... I had a fascination with my
genitals, mostly because of the pleasure my Daddy gave me with them. To me
they were a source of great fun and entertainment. I copied him, sometimes
in the bathtub, and even sometimes in bed after he'd left. I loved to rub
myself, and I even did what he did, I sniffed my finger every now and then.
I loved the way I smelled. I didn't know what sexy was back then, but I
smelled sexy. Kids don't know everything, but they know what they like. I
certainly did.

I returned to the present as I felt the familiar twinges start in the backs
of my thighs. An orgasm was imminent. My father's strong finger smashed my
clit against my body, rubbing up and down. My legs were half spread, my
right leg over his left. I was breathing heavily, and I heard his gentle
laughter. A wave of love swept over me, and I realized tears were flowing
down the sides of my face.

"Oh, Daddy," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I love you. I love you."

"I love you, darling," he whispered back. Our lips met again, and again.


                              --==+==--


I slowly faded into consciousness. It was morning. I was content to lay
there, in his arms. Maybe thirty minutes later he woke up, and we said our
good mornings. It was Sunday. There was no special reason to leap out of
the  bed. We were content to lay there, in each others arms.

Once again, we talked. There were still things it seemed like he needed to
talk about. We talked, and laughed, and were just happy in each other's
company.

"Gloria," he said. "When is the last time you made love?"

I laughed. I couldn't accurately answer that question. I'd had a one-night
stand with a guy I worked with a few years back, but I couldn't even
remember the year. It had been to long, far too long.

"Don't ask, Daddy," I said, laughing. "I can't even remember."

"Your mother and I..." he started, and then paused a long time. "Your
mother and I were... intimate... until she got sick. I understood. But it's
something you do miss, when you're... used to it."

Yeah, I could understand that... even though I'd never really even got to
get used to it. Sex with my husband, during those few short years we'd
managed to remain married, was a sporadic, off-again on-again affair. And
it was unsatisfying. The only satisfying sex I'd had in my life had been a
few short years while I was away from college... during my "wild" years.
Some of that shit I'd even tried to forget, it was so... out there. Now
though? Now I was so horny I'd probably try anything. I was even looking at
the girls at work with hungry eyes.

"Well, it doesn't always happen for all of us," I finally said, laughing
slightly. I wondered where he was going with this.

"Gloria..." he said. "You have to understand... this is difficult for me.
I'm trying to work my way past it... but you are still my daughter, in
spite of the things I've already done with you. Please understand where I'm
coming from."

"Oh, Daddy, I do," I said. I badly wanted to give him the time and space he
needed to come to grips with this. I was trying my best not to rush him.

"Daddy," I said. "I'm very happy with where we've gone, so far. It's more
than enough, for me. I've never been happier, in my life. Please... take
your time... take all the time you need. I'll wait for you... I'll wait
forever if I have to..."

I wouldn't really, but I felt safe saying that. My father is methodical. I
knew it'd eventually happen. He just had to do it his way. I sighed, and
just let him hold me.

"I asked you that for a reason, Gloria," he said. "I have every intention
of making love to you. Isn't that what you wish?"

I sighed and leaned over and kissed him. "That's certainly what I'm hoping
for," I said, laughing. He smiled.

"Just give me a while to wrap my head around this all," he said, and I
nodded.

"I will, Daddy... like I said, I'll give you all the time you need. I know
you won't disappoint me... you never have."

"I'll try my best," he laughed.


                              --==+==--


I didn't rush him. We slept together Friday, Saturday and Sunday night, and
I had to rush to get home and change to make it to work Monday morning.
Monday night Tina gently teased me about spending so much time over at
Daddy's house. I gave her a line of crap, I was afraid he'd get depressed
and I was trying to lift his spirits and such. I think she bought it, I'm
sure she didn't suspect in the slightest what was really going on.

It was Wednesday night before I stayed with him again. This time I thought
ahead and packed my work suit in my car, just in case. I asked him if I
could stay the night, and he laughed at me for asking. After a long lazy
evening we crawled into bed, and he held me. He did what he'd done every
time so far, he rubbed my clit... it was just our thing. It's just what we
did. I loved it.

"Gloria," he whispered in my ear. I made a noise. "Friday night, let's do
something special. Let's take the kids out to eat, maybe see a movie. When
we come back here... I'd like... I want to make love to you."

I sighed, happy. "Sure, Daddy," I said, basking in the warmth of his love.
And his finger was pretty nice too. I felt the tightness in my legs. I had
needed this all day. I felt his love for me in every thing he did, and I
loved him back as hard as I could.


                              --==+==--


Friday night didn't go quite as planned, we took the kids to eat, and then
all went downtown to some "night out" thing. We came back to Daddy's house,
and then the darn kids showed no inclination to leave. They found some of
my old board games in his closet, and insisted that we play them. I didn't
argue, I knew they'd eventually leave, and if they wanted to play games,
fine. I felt guilty about not spending as much time with them recently as I
should have, anyway.

I made popcorn, and finally about ten o'clock Tina yawned and stretched. At
last she and Derrik left in her car, and we were thankfully alone. We lay
on the couch and let the TV drone. I wondered if his mind was still made up.

"Gloria," he said. He reached for me, and pushed his hands down in my
slacks and under the waistband of my panties. His finger knew the way, and
almost immediately I felt it stroke my clit. I sighed and spread my legs a
little further apart.

"Gloria, tell me what you think about when I do this," he said, and I
smiled.

"I think about you, about us, and about being a kid again. About how happy
you made me, you and Momma."

"Do you think about this specifically, though? About me playing with you?"
he asked.

"A little," I admitted. "It seemed sexy, even back then... before I knew
what sexy was..." I thought about it. "Daddy... I loved what you did so
much I did it to myself, even..." I giggled.

"You what?" he seemed surprised.

"I played with my clit, with my pussy," I told him. "You taught me how.
Sometimes in the bathtub... and sometimes I even did it after you left.
Sometimes you just got me warmed up."

He laughed. "You naughty little girl," he said.

"Daddy..." I said, "you made me a... a skillful masturbater. To this day I
play with myself, for years it's been one of the few pleasures I had left
to me."

"Oh shit," he said, surprising me. I laughed. "Gloria," he said, "show me.
Do it for me!

I laughed some more. "Daddy," I said, "I think I'd be too embarrassed for
that..."

"Good grief, girl," he said. "I've seen you naked. I've wiped your shitty
little ass even... and you can't touch yourself in front of me?"

That did seem a little ridiculous. I unsnapped my slacks and kicked them
down. He was watching me with hungry eyes. I pulled my panties down and
hung them over his head. He grabbed them and pressed them to his nose and I
laughed out loud.

I spread my legs even further, and it felt good as my pussy stretched. I
reached down and spread my lips apart so he could see all of me. I touched
my clit. It was ready to go. My clit is always ready to go. I started a
slow rub, and felt chill bumps go down my leg.

"Take your shirt off, Gloria," he said, and I stopped and did just that,
dropping my shirt and unsnapping my bra. I drew it off, and he smiled. I
lay naked before him.

"You have very nice breasts, darlin'," he said, smiling. He was being
generous. Well, they're not bad, for a B-cup... to small to sag, at least.
My nipples are my strong point, I have nice fat brown nipples.

"Daddy... touch me... play with my tits," I said, as my finger returned to
my clit. He slowly reached out his hand, and caressed my breast. I rubbed
myself harder. I was anxious to cum.

He scooted over, and leaned down, taking my nipple in his mouth. "Oh yes,"
I whispered. His mouth was hot and wet on my skin. It felt intense, for
some reason. It kicked things up a notch for me.

I gasped and huffed, and felt my orgasm begin. I was really getting off on
this. I thrashed around and arched my back, and came hard. I heard his
gentle laughter at my breast. I grabbed his head and hugged it to my body.
He just kept sucking and licking.

"Oh, daddy..." I breathed when it was all over, "that was fine... that was
intense..."

"I'm glad," he said, finally sitting back. I still stroked myself, slowly.
I knew a second was possible, and sometimes a third. But I had other ideas,
tonight.

"Daddy..." I said, almost hesitantly. I didn't want to scare him off.

"Yes, darling," he replied.

"Daddy... can I... can I maybe... see it?" I asked, wincing. But I wanted
to, bad.

"See me?" he replied. "Of course you can see me. Just look."

"You know what I mean," I said, laughing. He looked thoughtful.

"I suppose there's no harm in a quick peek," he said. I shook my head.

"I want a slow peek," I said, and he laughed. He leaned back on the couch,
and after some hesitation drew his zipper down. I realized I was holding my
breath, and breathed so I didn't pass out. He held his zipper hole open,
and said, "There... look..."

"Not gonna do it, Daddy," I said, reaching down, putting my hand in the
hole. I had to wrestle with his undershorts, but at last my fingers felt
hot skin. Hot, hard skin. I smiled wickedly to myself. He had a hell of a
hard-on. I felt good, I knew that I was doing it.

It took some work, but I finally got his cock out of the slit. And damn...
it was a monster. Well, it was a monster to me, compared to what I was used
to when I was married. I'm not good with measurements but I'd guess it was
seven or eight inches... my ex-husband had barely been five, on a good
day... my Dad looked twice as long as Douglas's, for some reason. I felt my
mouth watering. I wanted to taste that thing, bad.

I gently pulled his balls out of the slit, too. They were nice and fat and
soft, and I cupped them in the palm of my hands. I love balls, for some
reason.

"Daddy," I breathed, "you got a nice weenie..."

He laughed. I took his cock in both my hands, and jacked it slightly.

"You do that, and we'll have a mess on our hands," he said.

"Oh, I'm not wasting that shit on the floor," I said, smiling. "Daddy...
please... make love to me... here... now..."

He smiled again and moved towards me. He stood, and I leaned back a little
further, scooting up on the couch. He stood between my legs and unsnapped
his jeans and let them drop. His undershorts followed. My father stood
before me, and his cock was so hard it even pointed up a little. I was
impressed, and pleased. And I couldn't keep my hands off it.

And, oh my goodness. This was not an opportunity I could pass up. I sat
forward, lowered my head slightly, and gulped him into my mouth without
even asking. I felt him start, and then heard him laughed. I'm sucking my
father, I thought to myself. I have my father's cock in my mouth. I am
sucking him.

My cunt was all nice and squishy by now. I was really getting off on
sucking him. He tasted great, a little sweaty, but it was sexier than shit
to me. I've sucked a few cocks, in my day. I had a boyfriend once in
college that called me "Knob Gobblin' Gloria." After I broke up with him, a
girlfriend and I had gone to a frat party once, and probably sucked off a
half dozen guys each. This felt more fun than that, even. And more naughty.

His cock filled my mouth. It felt fat and long. The cap was large, and I
sucked my lips around it, pulling on it. He sighed with pleasure. I love
this shit, I thought. Why had I gone so long without even doing this?
Surely any guy at the office would let me, if I just asked nicely. Why had
I waited so many years?

Ten minutes went by, at least. I tried to tell if he was getting close, I
didn't want him to cum in my mouth, I wanted that shit in my cunt. At last
I felt his prostate twitch, and slowed down. I finally let his cock drop
from my mouth.

"Daddy... I'm ready..." I said softly. He moved forward.

"Guide me in, Gloria," he said, gently laying on top of me. I guided his
cock to the mouth of my cunt, and felt it touch my lips.

"Daddy," I whispered in his ear, which was now beside my head. "Daddy... I
love you..."

"I love you, Gloria," he said, and began to press into my body. Damn...
damn he felt good... I've pushed two kids out my vagina, I'm not a tight
little girl any more... but he filled me completely, it even felt like he
stretched me. I was in love with his cock. And he'd hidden it away from me
so well, all these years. I was almost jealous of the time we'd missed. We
had a lot to make up for.

At last he was all the way inside me; I felt his legs on the insides of my
thighs. His cock felt like it was a foot inside me. I felt it touching
things in there that hadn't been touched in years.

I was crying a little, but that was okay. I was happier than I'd ever been.

"Daddy..." I said, "Daddy... fuck me!"


                              --==+==--


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