Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Nothing I Won't Do
Summary: A widower comes home to a VERY appreciative daughter.
Keywords: inc,fic
   The day my wife Lynn died was the worst day of my life.  I've had a lot
of bad days in my years and a lot of difficult experiences, some of them
even life-threatening, but even the worst of those could not compare to the
day I had to pull my daughter out of school so that she could say goodbye
to her dying mother.  We'd been somewhat prepared, intellectually, for the
fact that her life would be cut short by a genetic blood disease that was
beyond curing, but knowing a thing and experiencing it are two totally
different realities.  Beth, our daughter, was fifteen years old at the time
and took the death of her mother, I believe, a lot harder than I did.  For
months she was inconsolable and cried herself to sleep each night.  I
wasn't much better off, mind you, but as a widower with the responsibility
of raising a teenage daughter by myself, I had to quickly learn how to
shelf my grief and focus on my duties as a father.  I had to go back to
work, which was a lot harder than I thought it would be.  I was used to a
routine, a sort of rhythm in our household and with the loss of my wife,
coming home from work each night just wasn't the same.  I didn't mind
cooking the meals or cleaning the house or taking care of the bills; it was
the absence of my wife's gentle humming when she cooked dinner, the funny
pranks she'd leave for me or Beth while cleaning the house and the way
she'd discuss every financial decision with me before committing to
anything.
   Things got worse in short order, unfortunately.  My wife had been
responsible for paying the rent on the house we lived in.  That money was
just above the monthly mortgage which belonged to the homeowner, an affable
old woman who was now alone and couldn't stand living in the house by
herself and had rented it out to us on an open lease.  The owner, however,
had become forgetful in her old age and had gotten behind on the mortgage
payments.  When the housing market took a nose dive, her mortgage company
foreclosed on the property and kicked me and my daughter out to the curb
with hardly any notice.  In a move of desperation, I put most of our
belongings into storage and Beth and I moved into one of those
extended-stay hotels while I tried to figure out a solution to our woes. 
In less than six months I had gone from being a happy family man to a
widower father on the brink of financial doom with nowhere to turn.
   Beth's grades slipped some, but after a time and with the support of her
friends, she started to slowly bounce back.  After awhile I would come home
to the apartment having been cleaned by her and the dinner table already
set.  She started to participate in making dinners and had paid close
enough attention to start making them herself.  She began to sift through
my laundry as well as hers and, before I knew it, she'd taken over all the
duties and responsibilities that her mother had when she was alive.  All of
this, on top of her homework and studying for tests.  I don't know what
exactly happened in her mind, but the changes she underwent were
remarkable. I'd often told her that doing those extra things weren't
necessary, but she'd always answer that if doing those things were good
enough for her mother then they ought to be good enough for her.  I didn't
argue the matter and made a point of it to be extremely appreciative
whenever possible, taking it for granted that this was probably her way of
coping with her mother's death.
   I wish I could say that my own ability to cope was as empowering and
healthy as my daughter's was, but the truth is that I couldn't focus much
anymore.  I was struggling with depression and doubt more and more each
day. Work was getting harder on me and my social skills took a nose dive. I
knew that if things didn't turn around for me soon that I would lose my
job, which would put us in a very bad spot.  I wouldn't be able to pay the
rent on our shoe-box-sized apartment, put her through college or help her
find her own way in life.  I would fail her as a father.  This would not
do.
   Unfortunately, I'd never gone to college myself, so I didn't have a
degree to fall back on.  The insurance money from my wife's death was still
wrapped up in probate, so I couldn't touch it for another year at least. 
My wife and I did have SOME money in savings, but not nearly enough to
sustain Beth and me for a full year.  I had a few modest skills, but none
that made me too terribly marketable on the job front.  I was a whiz at
computers, but without a degree to prove it, the best I could probably
manage was to get a job selling the damn things rather than actually
working on them.  I was in my early thirties with no prospects, essentially
homeless, lots of responsibility and no direction.  With nothing really
presenting itself to me as a way out of my predicament, and after talking
it over extensively with Beth, I decided to join the Army as a computer
networking specialist, the closest thing to my skill sets that existed in
the military structure.
   In a time of war people join the military for lots of different reasons.
Most of them, unfortunately, are related to money or education rather than
patriotism.  And so it was with me.  Don't get me wrong- I love my country
and am proud to serve it, defend it and help to guide it towards a better
future, but taking care of my daughter and not dishonoring the trust that
my wife had imbued in me were my main reasons for joining.  That first
month of Basic training was by no means easy, mind you.  A man in his
thirties works almost twice as hard during Basic training just to keep up
with the younger soldiers and there's a lot more to prove to those who
outrank you since you've spent most of your life as a civilian.  But that's
only what I alone had to deal with.  There was also Beth, who had to stay
with my mother-in-law for the six months of Basic and AIT training that I
had to go through.
   We spoke whenever possible during that time away from each other, mostly
about my experiences in adjusting to Army life and sometimes about her own
experiences at school.  Shortly after I started my Advanced Individual
Training, Beth told me that she'd dated a guy for short while who she later
dumped because he was pressuring her for sex.  I was proud of her for
looking after her own virtue and told her as much, which led to a couple of
long conversations about relationships, dating, sexuality and personal
responsibility.  Even from so far away, I felt gratified that I could give
her guidance on such topics.  We spoke frankly and honestly about
everything and I felt that we were developing an honest friendship that was
separate from our father/daughter relationship.  To be truthful, it was
refreshing to be able to open up to her about those things without feeling
awkward or uncomfortable.  She definitely made it easier by being just as
open and honest about her own interests and curiosities.  When the topic of
Army life came up, however, she always sounded despondent and depressed.  I
constantly had to remind her that I wouldn't always be away from her, that
our separation was only temporary and that it was all for her benefit.  She
didn't like living with her grandmother, who she described as a "tyrant",
and begged me to get done with training as quickly as I could.  I couldn't
get it through to her that the Army dictated my training schedule and that
my training would be complete when they decided it was.  I knew it was a
trying time for her and that she didn't fully understand what it was that I
had chosen to do, all for her sake, but she accepted the situation for what
it was and didn't hold it against me.
   When I got out of Basic I got some time off to go home, get my daughter
and pack up our things: I was being stationed in another state, far away
from Beth's place of birth and her mother's place of death.  To say that my
daughter wasn't thrilled with the idea is an understatement, but we'd
discussed the likelihood that we'd have to move before I ever joined up and
she'd promised that she wouldn't rebuke me if that turned out to be the
case.  True to her word, my daughter kept silent about her unhappiness at
leaving everything she knew behind and even tried her stout best to put a
good face on it.  She put her best foot forward and followed me to
Tennessee, where I was stationed- Fort Campbell, home of the 101st Airborne
Division.  All the while, and especially during the trip (we drove the
distance from Dallas, Texas to Clarksville, Tennessee in two days' time),
we talked just like we had while I was away at AIT.  It was a real treat to
see how well Beth was recovering from her mother's death and was turning
into a bright, engaging young woman.  I thanked my lucky stars that she was
with me and was growing prouder to be her father every day.
   We adjusted quickly to military life.  Beth started going to school
outside the base and I'd finally gotten my wife's insurance settlement so
that I could afford to buy a house in the area, which was something of a
milestone for me.  Meanwhile, I was getting familiar with the unit I had
been assigned to and was making a good name for myself as a computer
"go-to" guy who could get things done.  That first year at my unit was
filled with a lot of adjustments, some of them very tough but most of them
very positive, and my relationship with my daughter became a lot stronger.
She was proud of her father and, when she wasn't in school, had literally
thrown herself into the Family Readiness Group and made friends with a lot
of the Army wives in my unit.  She was seventeen then, but extremely mature
beyond her years and everyone could see it.  She was smart, articulate,
beautiful and friendly, never saying a bad thing about anyone and always
supportive of her single dad.  Everything she did made me prouder and it
was clear that she wanted to show everyone in the FRG that I'd raised her
well.
   Word came down, eventually, that our unit would deploy to Afghanistan.
At first this bit of news was frightening for my daughter to hear.  She was
scared for me and for herself.  She worried that something might happen to
me while I was over there and, if it did, she would be alone, which was a
prospect that she wasn't willing to face just yet.  I assured her, up one
end of the street and down the other, that nothing would happen to me.  My
position within the battalion was such that it was in everyone's best
interests to keep me safe and out of harm's way.  I was responsible for
maintaining my battalion's computer network and satellite communications
equipment; without me, my unit wouldn't be able to communicate with the
rest of the world.  They needed me to be in one piece and do my job.  I
wouldn't be going out on any missions and I would be treated as an
extremely valuable asset, essential and irreplaceable.  Her fears for my
safety were quelled, but not entirely squelched, and she made an even more
concerted effort to make sure that I had everything that I needed while I
was gone.
   Being a good and loving father, I did my four-square best to do the
same. Every bill was tied into my checking account for automatic payment,
which ensured that she didn't have to worry about it.  I set aside a small
portion of my military pay that would be deposited into an account for her,
$350 every month for incidental expenses like gas and food and
entertainment.  I had a few Army buddies who were staying behind and had
promised to keep a close eye on my daughter and house for me- guys who had
families of their own and could be trusted to look after my daughter with
the same level of care that they would devote to their own daughters.  They
wouldn't be intrusive mind you, but they'd make discrete phone calls just
to check up on her and get face time with her during Family Readiness Group
meetings to make sure she was okay.
   Beth continued to go to school and, since she was interacting so much
with adults within the FRG, her maturity levels increased ten-fold.  It was
no surprise, then, that she got the attention of a young man who managed to
keep her interest.  He was older and struggling into adulthood on his own,
but very respectful of her and treated her extremely well.  Being under
eighteen years of age, Beth had made it clear to him that she would not
have sex with him and until she was ready, as long as he was okay with
that, they were good as a couple.  He didn't complain and never put any
pressure on her, much to my delight, and proved himself to be every bit a
gentleman and honorable kid.  His own father had been a military man who
had died in battle, so he never once made a fuss about Beth's support of
me. We talked from time to time and I actually came to like the guy, most
especially when he would wake up early in the mornings to give Beth a ride
to school and vowed to me that he would make sure she was taken care of
while I was away.  As a male I had no illusions about how attractive my
daughter was, so it was with some misgivings that I allowed Beth to stay at
the house pretty much alone while I was gone.  I had to trust in her wits
and intelligence, which is never easy even under the best of circumstances,
but Beth had done everything in recent years to prove to me that she was
trustworthy and mature enough to stay out of trouble.
   With a heavy heart and a good bit of trepidation, I left with my unit
for Afghanistan and prayed to God every night that my daughter would be
safe and sound in my absence.  The first few weeks in Afghanistan were, as
you might expect, a challenge on every front.  Most of our time was spent
in setting up the battalion so that we could carry out our missions and
gain a clear understanding of our environment in all aspects.  This meant
that my time was devoted almost exclusively to creating our network and
setting up computers for the entire administrative staff (roughly around
150 people all told).  I was so busy, in fact, that I hardly got any time
to myself.  It wasn't until our third week in the field before I could call
back home and check in on my little girl.  Everything, from what I could
tell by her reports, was going fine without me and there were no problems
to speak of.  My daughter was holding up on her own pretty well, which was
welcome news.
   Phone calls to home were rare, but being the network administrator for
the battalion afforded me the opportunity to send emails whenever I wanted.
For five months straight my daughter and I corresponded on an almost daily
basis via the Internet and she kept me informed of nearly every little
thing in her life.  School was going well, there had been a few bad rain
storms but no damage to the house, the car was running without trouble, her
boyfriend was making sure that she made it to school every day...  all in
all, she was learning how to live on her own and embracing her independence
with flourish.  She kept telling me that she missed me and that things just
weren't the same without me being around, that my absence kept reminding
her of the fact that her mother wasn't around, either- most times she had
good news, but sometimes the loneliness she felt came through like a cannon
shot and was heartbreaking to read.  Every day I kept focus on my job,
going through my routines with care and trying my best to stay motivated.
When things got tough or scary (we were, after all, in the middle of a war-
the enemy wasn't eager to leave our area and fought us every step of the
way), I kept reminding myself what I was doing this for: my daughter.
   I kept a picture of her on my cell phone (which was useless in that
country except as an alarm clock) and looked at it to keep my spirits up.
She was such a beautiful creature, my daughter.  All the guys in my shop
kept telling me that I was crazy to leave her home alone and one of them
even remarked that if he was back there he'd be doing everything he could
to woo her.  I took that in stride and didn't get upset about it. 
Intellectually, I could see why he'd want to: Beth truly was a gorgeous
girl.  She had long brown hair with natural, curly locks in it that came
down to the small of her back; she was short at just four-foot-nine-inches;
her figure was trim and athletic; her legs showed signs of strong thighs
which met up to narrow hips and a small, tight rear end; and her 37-C
breasts (I sometimes had to shop with her for new bras- one of the pitfalls
of parenthood, I guess) were high, round and firm and showed lots of
cleavage when she wore certain tops.  Her face was just as appealing to
look at with small, pouty lips, soft brown eyes and a cute nose.  She kept
in shape and walked with absolute grace, commanding the attention of every
male who set eyes on her, even me.  I knew my daughter was a "hottie" and
was proud of that fact, but I made it clear to the rest of the guys in my
shop that none of them stood a chance in hell with her, at least not while
I was alive and had anything to say about it.
   At the beginning of the fifth month of our deployment I got word that I
was scheduled for some R&R.  I was afforded 2 weeks of Leave time back home
and, coupled with travel time, would be gone from the battalion for about a
month in total.  The timing couldn't have been better since the time off
would correspond with Beth's birthday (she was born the day before
Halloween).  When I called home to give Beth the news, she just about cried
with joy over the phone, she was so happy.  Almost immediately she started
making plans for things we'd do while I was home- going out to dinner,
seeing movies, visiting local friends and family, staying in to rent videos
of movies that I'd missed...  all of it sounded good to me, but I told her
that I mostly just wanted to stay home and relax as much as humanly
possible and treat her to a great birthday dinner at a nice restaurant.  I
promised her that we'd do all of the things she'd planned, but I didn't
want to restrict myself to any set or specific plans, that I wanted to play
things loosely and by ear.  She understood entirely and promised me that
she wouldn't pressure me to do anything that I didn't want to.
   The trip back home was arduous and didn't go half as quickly as I would
have liked, but, as with everything else, the thought of being able to see
my little girl again helped to keep me in a positive frame of mind.  I
bounced from place to place, travelling from one half of this planet to the
other for three days straight, until my plane finally touched down in
Nashville on October 29th.  I was completely exhausted from the trip and
probably smelled like a sweat sock when I got off the plane, but when she
saw me walking through the terminal doorway, my daughter all but threw
herself into my arms with a happy hug.  I barely had time to register the
fact that she was wearing a cream-colored summer dress that came down to
her ankles and her hair was done up with ringlets.  We embraced joyously
for a long moment while she cried into my shoulder and repeatedly told me
how glad she was that I was home again.
   When we broke the hug, I took a step back to look at my daughter
appraisingly.  "You haven't changed a bit," I told her.  "You look good."
Beth smiled sweetly, picked up my smallest bag and slipped the strap over
her shoulder with barely a grunt.  Even my smallest bag was by no means
light and easily weighed as much as she did.  "Well," I said with surprise,
"maybe you HAVE changed some."
   She smirked as she started to lead the way to baggage claim.  "I've been
doing some working out with your weights while you were away," she
explained.  "I'm not, like, buff or anything, but I have been getting
stronger.  And I've been running, too.  See?" She stopped to partly hike up
her skirt on one side just enough to show me her left calf.  It looked
strong and well sculpted from exercise.  And cleanly shaven.  "Two miles a
day.  One in the morning before school and one when I get home.  For the
first month I kinda went on an eating binge because I missed you so much
and I was moping around the house all the time by myself.  At one point I
saw your exercise equipment just sitting there and I was frustrated with
nothing to do so I figured 'What the hell?' and started lifting the weights
like I've seen you do.  I worked up one hell of a sweat until I couldn't do
it anymore, but I felt fantastic, so I decided to stick with it.  Thirty
minutes every day, after my run.  Before I knew it, I lost weight that I'd
gained and I had more energy and was sleeping better.  I'm not, like,
addicted to exercise or anything like that, but I've decided that I like
the way it makes me feel and I can't complain about the things it's done
for my bod."
   I couldn't find fault with that at all.  She looked terrific and I told
her so.  "I don't think I've ever seen you so relaxed and happy," I said.
"I mean, you've always been pretty well adjusted, Sweetheart, but it's like
I'm seeing a whole new you."
   That bashful smile played across her face again as we approached the
baggage claim carousel.  "I guess I'm just really glad to have my Dad back
home again," she said.  "I really missed you."
   I dropped the duffle bag that was hanging from my shoulder as we came to
a stop at the carousel and gave her a warm, loving hug.  "I've missed you,
too, honey.  I thought about you every day."
   She hugged me back and her embrace was so tight that I couldn't miss the
emotion behind it.  We broke our hug again and she wiped a small tear from
her eye, trying her best to not let her emotions get away from her.  "So,"
she said, changing the subject, "how was your trip?"
   I rolled my eyes and was about to speak when one of my buddies, who was
also on looking for his luggage, strolled by and answered for me.  "Don't.
Ask," he muttered tonelessly.
   I nodded in agreement.  "That pretty much sums it up, actually.  We're
all a little worse for wear.  All I want to do is get home, take a shower
and crash into bed for about ten hours."
   Beth giggled and held up the car keys in the air.  "So I guess I'll be
driving us back home, then?"
   I snagged the keys from her hand and said, "Not on your life.  As much
as I missed you, I missed the freedom of driving.  I'm bombed out of my
mind with exhaustion, but getting behind the wheel sounds like a great way
to perk me up."
   "Hey, Carson!" another one of my buddies shouted.  He was standing
closer to the carousel and tossed a duffel bag in my direction, which
landed right at my feet.  "Take this damn thing and get the hell out of
here!  Every minute counts, buddy!"
   I gratefully picked up the bag and offered my thanks to my fellow
soldier.  And, with that, my daughter and I bolted out of the airport like
a pack of wolves were chasing us.  We threw my bags into the back of the
car and got into it quickly, not wanting to waste a minute of my Leave
time. Something odd happened, though, when we got into the car seats. 
Before starting the ignition, I turned to look at my daughter, to tell her
how glad I was to be back home, and she looked at me.  Our eyes locked for
a brief moment and, before I could say anything, Beth leaned over and
kissed me.  On the lips.  It wasn't one of those hot, passionate kind of
kisses, but it was nevertheless not the kind of kiss a young woman should
give to her father.  When our lips parted, she just patted me on the cheek
and said, "Welcome home, Dad."
   I stared at her for a long moment, trying to figure out what the hell
had just happened.  "What...  what was THAT?" I asked.
   Beth just shrugged and said, "What?  I can't show my appreciation to my
father, for all the amazing things he's done for me these last few years,
with a kiss?  Geez, Dad.  Relax.  It was just a quick peck.  You're my dad
and I love you.  Besides, isn't it, like, traditional for a soldier
returning home to get a kiss or something?"
   "Well, maybe, yeah, but not from his daughter.  What's gotten into you?"
   Beth shook her head and said, "I'm fine, Dad.  I'm just glad you're
home. That's all.  And, speaking of which, we're not home YET.  The sooner
you get some rest, the sooner we can celebrate my birthday.  It's only a
day away and we've got plans, remember?"
   I continued to stare at her for a few heartbeats and then decided to
just let it pass.  Kids do crazy things sometimes.  I started the ignition
and drove us out of the airport.  The drive home was filled with
conversation about my experiences in Afghanistan, but it was all a blur.  I
knew that the ride home would take just under an hour, but it seemed like
only five minutes later when I found myself pulling into the driveway.  We
didn't even bother unloading the car as I trudged off to my bedroom and
immediately collapsed on my bed where I enjoyed the sleep of the dead for
exactly ten hours.
   --------------------------------
   I had a mostly satisfying sleep except for a single, weird dream that
woke me up.  In the dream I was with my late wife and we were making love
more passionately than I ever remembered having done with her in the past.
At one point, she was riding on top of me and my gaze was fixed completely
on where we were joined.  She sat up and said, "Welcome home, Daddy," in
our daughter's voice.  When I looked up, I saw that my wife had somehow
been replaced with Beth and she pointed down to her belly button.  "I'm so
glad you came home," she said in a husky voice.
   I sat up with a start, jerking myself out of the dreamworld in a bit of
a panic.  My mind was still whirling with the images I'd seen in the dream
and I didn't know what to make of it.  I felt my forehead and realized that
I was sweating almost profusely.  A further inventory of my body's state
resulted in the discovery that I had a severe hard-on and I was just
seconds away from a dream-induced orgasm.  I closed my eyes tightly, trying
to get my body under control, but the only thing my mind's eye allowed me
to see was the vision of my daughter, naked and sitting on top of my groin
in ecstatic pleasure.  My body spasmed and it took every ounce of
self-control not to cum.  I breathed steadily through my nose, my heart
pounding in my chest as my body calmed down slowly, and then I simply
flopped on my back as my pulse returned to something close to normal. 
After the moment was behind me and I felt that I was in the clear, I lifted
the sheets up to see that I'd made a small mess just with precum.  I guess
going a few years without sex can do that to a guy.  Oh, sure, I
masturbated from time to time, even when I was in Afghanistan, but I hadn't
had a wet dream like that since before my wife passed away.  Having soiled
bed sheets was bad enough, but the thing that really got my attention was
recalling the dream that inspired my near-orgasm: I'd been dreaming of my
daughter, of fucking her.  Or, more to the point, she was fucking me.
   I glanced at the clock (5 AM), groggily got out of bed and went into the
master bathroom to clean myself off.  At first I was just going to use a
hand towel to wipe away the mess around my groin, but decided that it would
be better to just take a shower and wash away a few days of travel from my
body.  I put the strange erotic dream out of my mind and instead focused on
more practical matters- coffee being at the top of my list.  I quickly got
done with the shower, put on a clean pair of boxer-briefs and made my way
into the kitchen.  I didn't expect that Beth to be awake that early in the
morning but, as I was making some coffee, she stumbled into the kitchen and
blinked bleary-eyed at me.  I blinked back at her, not prepared to see her
wearing one of my old t-shirts.
   "Dad?  What're you doing up?  Are you okay?"
   "I'm fine, Sweetheart.  I just had an alarming dream and woke up.  I've
been asleep for ten hours, so I figured I'd get an early start today and
started up a pot of coffee.  Go on back to sleep.  I'm sorry if I startled
you."
   Beth smiled wanly and waved my apology off.  "No, no.  It's okay.  I
mean, yeah, you woke me up, but that's only because I've gotten used to the
house being silent."
   "I guess we'll both have to adjust to me being home, eh?" I said with a
slight chuckle.  I was feeling very self-conscious about the fact that I
was standing there in the kitchen, with my daughter, just wearing my
boxers, but if she wasn't going to make a big deal out of it then neither
was I.  I turned around to get a coffee mug out of the cabinet.
   "Get one for me, too, will you please?" Beth asked from behind me.  With
my back to her, all I could hear was her gently pulling one of the chairs
away from the kitchen table.
   "Since when do you drink coffee?" I asked with surprise as I took
another mug out for her.  I'd never seen her drink the stuff.  Not hot
coffee, anyway.
   "I kinda got used to the scent of it over the last few years," she said.
"With you gone and two cans of the stuff sitting in the cabinet, I decided
to try some.  I was actually surprised that I liked it.  And I take mine
with creamer and sugar, just like you.  I can't stand it black.  Bleh."
   I poured us two cups of joe and added cream and sugar in proportions
that I prefer, only guessing that her claim to like it the way I have mine
meant exactly so, and turned around.  Beth was sitting at the kitchen
table, one leg crossed over her opposing knee, and paused at what I saw: my
daughter was wearing ONLY my t-shirt.  No panties underneath.
   When she saw my eyes widen, she immediately realized what I'd glimpsed
and quickly lowered her leg to hide her briefly exposed, shaven pussy from
view.  "Sorry," she said with a startled blush.  "I'm still getting used to
having someone around in the mornings.  To be honest, I normally don't even
bother with this much," she added with a tug on the t-shirt.  "It's yours.
I hope you don't mind.  I missed the smell of you."
   I gathered my wits about me and approached the table, placing her
steaming mug of coffee in front of her.  "It's okay," I said calmly.  "Like
I said: we'll both have to adjust to me being home.  Besides, it's not like
I haven't seen a woman's private parts before.  It's no big deal."
   A playful smirk crept across her mouth.  "So does that mean I can fall
back to my normal routine and lose the shirt?"
   I raised my eyebrows at her, trying my best to hide my surprise at such
a bold question, but found myself saying, "If you think you'd be more
comfortable that way, I'm not going to stop you.  You're going to be
eighteen tomorrow, which will make you a legal adult and responsible for
your own decisions."
   Beth took a small, halting sip of coffee and pursed her lips at the heat
of it.  When the hot liquid cleared her throat, she said, "Actually, Dad,
I'm eighteen NOW."
   I realized, with dismay, that she was right.  I had slept so hard that
I'd forgotten what day it was.  "Oh my God," I said with a groan.  "I'm so
sorry, honey.  The jet lag got the better of me.  Happy birthday!"
   Beth let out a small giggle and smiled.  "It's okay, Dad.  I've got all
day to celebrate and you really needed your rest." We both took sips from
our mugs in a thoughtful silence that lasted for all of thirty seconds
before Beth said, "So...  what was it about?"
   I knitted my eyebrows at her.  "What was what about?"
   "The dream that woke you up."
   I looked down at my coffee cup and thought quickly.  Did I want to make
something up, tell her the whole truth or just tell her part of the truth?
As a rule, I avoided lying to my daughter as much as humanly possible. 
I've always felt that trust between a parent and child must be rooted in
honesty regarding all things, no matter how uncomfortable they may be. 
Some things, however, are best left unsaid.  "Well," I began, "I was
dreaming of your mother."
   "Mmm," Beth said appraisingly with a playfully cocked eyebrow.  "A good
dream, I hope?"
   I nodded gently.  "You could say that.  We were making love, if that's
what you mean."
   "And that's what woke you up?" my daughter asked with confusion.  "I
thought those kinds of dreams were the ones you want to keep having."
   "Normally, yes," I replied with a shrug.  "But this one was different.
In the dream she changed into someone else.  It kinda threw me for a loop.
Startled me."
   "Who was it?  Who did she change into?" she asked.  Of course, it was
the next logical question and, of course, I inwardly winced when she asked
it.  I had hoped that she would let it go and not delve too much deeper,
but Beth is a naturally curious creature: anything new or different piqued
her interest and when that happened, she would hound after it until she got
the full story.  She absolutely hated not knowing things or being evaded.
   I took a deep breath and decided to face the music.  I couldn't bring
myself to raise my eyes to meet hers, though, so I reached for my coffee
cup as I answered just before taking a sip.  "You."
   That brought her up short and gave her a moment of pause.  "Me? 
Really?" she finally asked.  "Wow."
   I tried to shrug it off.  "It was just a dream, Sweetheart.  Probably
brought on by that whopper of a kiss you gave me yesterday.  It doesn't
mean anything."
   "Oh, I don't know about that, Dad," she said conversationally, now fully
aware and watchful of my every move.  "I guess it makes a certain sort of
sense, in a weird way."
   Again I arched my eyebrows at her, this time in unconcealed surprise and
a mixture of inexplicable indignation.  "Indeed?" I asked.  "And how is
that?  How does dreaming of sex with my daughter make any kind of sense?"
   "Well," she said calmly, "first, as you mentioned, there's that kiss. 
Then, Mom was the one who took care of you and made you a home.  She looked
after all the little things that you missed.  After she died, I guess I
sorta took on some of her responsibilities.  Not all of them, but some of
them.  I don't think I'll ever replace Mom, and I wouldn't want to, but I
do try to make you as comfortable as she did.  And you do the same thing
for me, guiding me the way she would have.  I mean, you're my dad and I'm
your daughter, but in a weird way, we're sort of like a couple, too.  I'm
the only woman in your life right now, mostly because Army life doesn't
give you the time to go out dating much, so I guess it makes sense that
you'd dream of me in that way from time to time, especially after I kissed
you.  I'm no psychologist, but it makes sense to me, so I'm officially
telling you, Dad, that there's no need to feel weird about it.  Like you
said, it was just a dream.  Besides, it's not like I don't have dreams like
that, too," she added off-handedly.
   That last bit really floored me.  "You DO?" I blurted with total shock.
   "Sure," she answered.  "At first, yeah, it sorta weirded me out, but
after doing a little research, I found out that it's perfectly natural and
now I just let it go without letting it interfere with my relationship with
you.  Dreams are dreams.  I'm sure that, somewhere down the road, you'll
have dreams of some of your experiences in Afghanistan, too, but that
doesn't mean you'll wake up ready to kill somebody, does it?  So what if we
dream about having sex with each other?  It's not like we'll actually do
it. For one thing, it's against the law and, for another, well..." she
trailed off.
   "Well, what?" I prompted.
   She waved it off.  "I can't think of a second thing right now," she told
me dismissively.  "It's too early.  Anyway, the point is, if you dream
about me every once in awhile, I'm okay with that.  In the final analysis,
I know that you love me and that you'll never hurt me, so I have nothing to
worry about.  So.  I won't worry about it and neither should you.  You can
fuck me as much as you like...  in your dreams." She winked at me
playfully, took a large gulp from her coffee mug and set it down on the
table.  "If you'll excuse me, Dad, I think it's about time that both of us
get ready for the day.  Besides, I think you've got some business to attend
to." She nodded at my groin.
   I looked down and saw, much to my chagrin, that I was sporting a very
prominent erection beneath my boxer-briefs.  The outline of my engorged
member was so clearly defined that even some of the veins were visible
through the fabric.  I looked back up to apologize or explain it away or
something, but my daughter had already disappeared out of the kitchen and
out of my sight.  I looked back down at my throbbing mast and muttered,
"You have the absolute worst fucking timing in the world, you know that?"
My cock merely pulsed in silent reply, as though to say that, yes, it knew
that very well and was not one bit repentant about it.  "Fuck," I said to
the empty kitchen.  I stood up, grabbed my half-full cup of coffee and made
my way downstairs, severely annoyed at how I'd started my first real day of
Leave.
   --------------------------
   As I said before, I fully understood, on an intellectual level, that my
daughter is a gorgeous young woman.  But never, not once, have I regarded
or thought of her as a sexual being or looked at her the way a man normally
looks at a beautiful woman.  She was always my daughter, full of spirit and
intellect and emotion, not some young thing ready to be conquered, least of
all by me!  I felt ashamed and full of self doubt as I went through the
motions of getting dressed.  I allowed myself to ruminate on our
conversation, picking it apart in my head, and couldn't draw any sort of
real consensus of what had been said.  Finally, I decided to just accept
the fact that my little girl was now a full-grown adult woman, legally
of-age and mature enough to decide for herself what was right or wrong. 
She'd told me that I shouldn't be worried about my dream and that she felt
it was natural for people in our situation.  I decided to put faith in that
and just let it go.  If she wasn't going to let it bother her then I
wouldn't either.  Of course, I wouldn't advertise it every time I had a
dream about her, if I ever had another, but I wouldn't let it get to me. 
Dreams were dreams; reality was reality: ne'er the twain shall meet, right?
Right.
   Once I'd gotten dressed, I figured that when Beth was ready to start
celebrating her birthday, she'd come and let me know.  Until then, however,
I might as well catch up on some of the stuff I'd missed while I was
overseas.  I turned on my computer (which had miraculously not been shorted
out in any rain storms while I was away) and began to check my email Inbox,
which was filled to the brim with SPAM.  It took me a good thirty minutes
to sift through all of the SPAM and, when I was done, found that I had a
grand total of 8 real email messages.  Eight emails over a 5-month period.
I'd taken care to have most of my emails diverted to my Afghan email
account, but to see so few waiting for me was a little bit of a let-down.
The real sad thing, though, is that six of them were related to billing
invoices and other such non-personal correspondence.  The two remaining
emails were from a friend I knew a few years ago but had lost touch with,
and he wasn't even really that good a friend, so I was in no big hurry to
respond.
   With nothing left to do on that front, I opened up my web browser and
began trolling some of the adult websites that I couldn't view while I was
away, Literotica among them.  Now, this is my dirty little secret: as much
as I didn't look at my daughter in a sexual way, I'd always, even before I
got married, had a fetish for incest erotic fiction.  My particular bent,
and the irony wasn't lost on me, was father/daughter incest.  I've even
written some.  It first started out with and interest in mother/son
stories, but as time went on, I found myself drawn more to the dad/daughter
stories, mostly out of fascination at first and then out of depraved lust
over time.  My wife was aware of my interest in such stories, and even the
fact that I wrote them, but she never complained about it.  She actually
liked reading the brother/sister stories, even though she was an only
child. We even role-played a bit when we made love sometimes, just to spice
things up- and it often worked.  Usually we played siblings, but I remember
a few occasions where I was "Daddy" and Lynn was my "naughty little
daughter." God, I missed my wife right then!
   So it was with a certain measure of conflicted carnal need that I
started to view the titles of all the stories I'd missed over those
intervening months.  Key words like daddy, daughter, fuck, family and
sundry other words jumped out at me as I scrolled through over two hundred
story titles.  I tried to divorce myself from my conscience, but it was to
no avail.  Halfway through the first story I'd selected, I found myself
imagining myself as the main character and Beth, rather than Lynn, as the
young lady getting nailed.  The realization unnerved me to no end and I
kept feeling guilty about my thoughts.
   Frustrated as I was, I decided to switch gears.  One fetish wasn't
working out the way I'd hoped, hitting me way too close to home, so I chose
my back-up fetish: creampie videos.  Lots and lots of those to choose from,
and very few which had an incest theme to them.  I found one particular
video clip on a porn-tube website that really got my motor running and I
quickly began to rub myself through my boxers.  A few minutes of that,
though, was hardly enough to satisfy me, so I pushed my pants and boxers
down around my ankles while still sitting and really began to stroke
myself, fully intent on getting rid of my pent-up sexual frustration.  I
didn't even bother with putting on earphones, thinking that Beth would
almost certainly be upstairs in her bedroom and listening to music while
she got ready for the day.  Right at the climax of the video clip, at the
point where the male stud was about to cum inside the young, large-breasted
woman he was furiously shagging from behind, I felt my own orgasm begin. 
As my testicles began to clench and I could feel a rather large amount of
cum start to make its way through my thick 9-inch shaft, my bedroom door
opened and Beth walked in, her eyes immediately fixed on my exploding
member.
   "FUCK!  BETH!" I cried out as my cum began to spew upwards in a high
arc.
   "Holy shit!" Beth exclaimed and her jaw simply dropped open in stunned
awe as her eyes took in the sight of her father climaxing uncontrollably.
Three healthy spurts of semen shot into the air from my spewing member
while she stared, transfixed, at me in stunned shock.  The first of those
three shots arced high into the air and landed right on the back of her
hand, which caused her to involuntarily flinch like she'd been scalded from
the heat of it.  All I could do at that point was stare back at her
balefully, my body wracked with spasms and beyond my control as the other
two shots splattered on the floor.  Another two strong jolts swept through
my body and those found a home on my computer screen.  "Oh, shit, Dad, I am
SO sorry!  Hold on!" She immediately disappeared from sight, much to my
relief, and closed the door behind her swiftly.
   I leaned back in my chair, completely winded and totally embarrassed at
the situation, surveying the mess I'd just made all over my stomach and
computer desk with massive amounts of chagrin.  After the conversation we'd
had over coffee that morning, I could only imagine what was going through
my daughter's mind at that point.  I thought that, for sure, I'd have to do
a lot of explaining to get back in her good graces.  Imagine MY surprise,
however, when the door opened up again and, this time, Beth had a towel
with her.
   "Here," she said, handing the towel to me, her eyes practically glued to
my slimy, oozing cock.  "I'm so sorry that I just barged in on you like
that, Dad.  I should've knocked first.  I'm really, really sorry."
   I took the towel from her and noted that the first glob of cum that had
landed on her hand was now conspicuously gone.  I began to wipe away the
goo that had splattered all over myself and saw that some droplets had made
their way onto the keyboard.  "And I suppose," I said sourly as I gently
wiped my cum off the keyboard keys, "that coming BACK in here, again
without knocking, seemed like the right course of action?"
   Beth leaned against the door frame, watching me, and smirked while she
amusedly bit down on a fingernail.  My computer desk was situated right
next to the bedroom doorway, so she was close enough to actually smell my
cum from only a few feet away.  "Well, you DID make a pretty big mess," she
said.  She glanced at my computer screen and swabbed a streak of my cum
that I hadn't cleaned up yet.  As she did so, she noticed the video I had
been viewing.  On the screen the woman who'd just received a rather healthy
dose of cum inside her pussy was showing her prize off for the camera,
white creamy liquid slowly oozing out of her well-fucked vagina.  "Oh!"
Beth said with surprise while she absent-mindedly sucked the small amount
of my seed from her fingertip, "I didn't know you were into creampies!"
   My composure, by then, was completely gone, to say nothing of my
decorum. At that point it would have been a farce to try and look
dignified. I stopped wiping up my cum and just stared up at my daughter as
she finally registered the fact that she'd just taken her father's cum,
small amount though it had been, into her mouth with hardly a thought right
in front of me.  "And what would you know about it?" I asked her.
   "Hmm," she muttered as she gamely tried to classify the taste in her
mouth and then shrugged, her little faux pas forgotten for the moment. 
"It's one of my fetishes, too," she told me with complete ease in her
voice. "I mean, yeah, I've never had sex, but I've got this fantasy of what
it probably feels like, y'know?"
   I shook my head and tossed the cum-soaked towel into the dirty clothes
hamper across the room, Beth's eyes following it as it flew through the air
and went right into the hamper.  Score two points for Daddy- nothing but
net.  I then stood up, my cock still semi-erect but starting to droop now
that my carnal desires had been sated, and pulled up my pants to cover my
groin from Beth's seemingly very interested gaze.  "Normally, Sweetheart,
I'd have no problems talking about this kind of stuff with you, but, under
the circumstances, I think I'd like to change the subject if you don't
mind."
   "Dad," Beth began, "you've got nothing to be embarrassed about.  If
anything, from what I saw, you ought to be pretty damned proud.  I mean,
that's an impressive piece of equipment you've got, Dad."
   I ignored the compliment and turned away from her in search of my
wallet, anything to look at other than my daughter.  "So...  to what do I
owe the embarrassment of your visit?  Did you have something in mind to
tell me or was that just a random intrusion?"
   "Oh, uh, I just came down to tell you that I called in sick to school
today, it being my birthday and all.  Actually, I guess I sorta called in
well, but they won't know the difference and I've got a few sick days to
use.  And I, uhm, was wondering if you wanted to go get some breakfast or
something."
   I turned to look at her and said, "Sure.  I'm kinda hungry.  But if you
make one, single joke about sausage and eggs, you're fending for yourself."
   Beth's cheeks dimpled impishly but she kept herself in check.  "Deal,"
she said.  "So...  IHOP?"
   "Sounds good," I said.  "I'll meet you at the car in five minutes." When
she left I just stood there, in my room, and regarded my computer screen,
which still showcased the website that was home to the porn clip and
brightly advertised various other porn sites for me to visit and would I
like to check out some sexy cheerleaders?  I hit ALT+F4 on my keyboard with
a certain measure of finality and muttered, "Well, that went disastrously."
   ------------------------------
   During those few minutes before meeting up with Beth at the car, I was
in a near panic over what had just happened.  I knew I wasn't seeing
things: Beth had tasted my cum right in front of me like it was no
different than tasting cupcake frosting.  She didn't bat an eye or make
mention of it, but the subtext of her message was clear: she was toying
with me.  I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what the hell was
going on with my daughter, but I knew that I had to somehow get the upper
hand in this strange ordeal and I had better do it fast or things would get
out of control in no time flat.  While I knew that Beth was still a
technical virgin, I knew that she had a vibrator, had long-since broken her
hymen in junior high as a cheerleader and was aware of herself as a sexual
being, even if I had been somewhat oblivious to it until that morning.  Now
that she was eighteen, she was probably chomping at the bit to get laid for
real and, being the only male within shooting distance, I had somehow
become the target of her amorous intentions.  I was tempted, sorely
tempted, to call her bluff and start flirting with her right back, but I
felt that flirting with my daughter was actually flirting with disaster and
could ultimately backfire on me.  I had to figure out a way to redirect her
attentions and get me out of her sights.
   Beth met me at the car wearing another summer dress.  This one, however,
came up to her mid-thigh and was a summery yellow hue.  It was unseasonably
warm that day and there was a slight breeze that rustled the dry leaves
from the trees and also caused the hem of her dress to flutter about
tantalizingly in the morning light.  Her hair, still adorned with ringlets
from the day before, shined pleasantly in the sunlight and had a soft
shimmer to it.  She got into the car with a brief, enigmatic smile that she
flashed at me and I got into the driver's seat, started the car and drove
out of the driveway, thinking about how I might turn the tables on her.
   As we were driving down the road in front of the house, I said, "So...
how'd it taste?  Good?"
   "How did what taste?" she asked, her face a total blank.
   "My cum," I clarified.  "I saw you swipe that little bit of it off the
screen.  It's not like you were trying to be coy about it, either.  I'm
guessing that you wanted me to see that, so I'm not going to play stupid
and ignore it.  Then there's the bit that landed on your hand, which
miraculously disappeared by the time you returned with the towel.  I'm
assuming that you ingested that, too.  So...  how'd it taste?"
   Beth was silent for a thoughtful moment and asked, "You aren't angry?"
   "Why should I be angry?  Clearly you didn't know what semen tastes like
and there was a perfectly good opportunity to find out.  Totally logical.
Not, mind you, that tasting your father's cum is necessarily the best way
to find out, but I'll concede that you have to take your opportunities
where you find them.  So, no, I'm not angry.  More concerned than
anything."
   Beth heaved a huge sigh and leaned back in the car seat with relief. 
"Oh, thank God!  I thought you were going to, like, get all weird on me
about it.  Thank you for understanding, Dad."
   I kept my own counsel about just how understanding I was about the
situation; I was trying to get the upper hand here.  "No problem.  But you
still didn't answer the question.  Did my seed taste good or bad?"
   Beth shrugged.  "Well, to be honest, I don't really know.  I mean, I
kinda got a taste of it, but not really.  There really wasn't that much of
it for me to tell.  I guess it was okay.  I don't really have anything to
compare it to."
   I nodded reasonably, already aware of the subtext of her reply: she
wanted to taste more.  I wasn't going to fall into that trap.  "Really? 
What about that guy you were dating before I left?  Carl, was it?  I mean,
I know you were waiting until today before you had sex with him, but surely
you guys got into some heavy petting and some oral sex, right?" Here we go,
I thought to myself.  Masterful.  Shift the focus onto someone else other
than me, divert her attentions elsewhere.
   "Yeah," she said slowly.  "We fooled around a little bit, but I kinda
broke up with him a few weeks ago.  He wasn't getting pushy or anything,
but we were getting kinda hot and heavy and I was worried that I wouldn't
be able to control myself around him anymore.  I wanted to wait until I'm
legal so that he wouldn't get into trouble or anything.  And he was okay
with that, I guess.  Maybe a little disappointed, but totally cool about
it. But after awhile I kinda realized that, really, he isn't the kind of
guy I'm looking for.  I mean, he's super-cool and stuff, but he's just
not...  I don't know...  not ready.  Or I'm not ready.  I think he was more
serious about the relationship than I was, I guess.  Like, I just want some
good memories and to have a good time, and I'm not just talking about
sexually, either.  But I kinda got the impression that he wanted to make us
a long-term thing and, I mean, I'm not even out of high school yet and I
haven't even gotten to college.  I'm just not ready for that with him.  So,
for now, we're kinda broken up but still good friends."
   I took all of that in with a slow nod.  Her thinking was mature, lucid
and clear, I had to give her that, but it didn't give me much wiggle room.
Without a boyfriend to shift her focus on, I was up shit creek without a
paddle.  But I wasn't sunk just yet, I told myself.  "So...  are you still
intending to give him your virginity or are you gonna hold out just a
little bit longer for another guy?"
   Beth shook her head distractedly.  "I don't know," she said quietly.  "I
really don't.  On the one hand, he's a nice guy and he won't mistreat me.
On the other hand, I'm not really in love with him, so what would be the
point, right?  You and Mom always told me that, when I was ready to go down
that road, I should do it with someone I love.  I mean, I love him in a
friend sort of way, but I'm not IN love with him, y'know?" I nodded in
silent reply, kicking myself mentally in the hopes that inspiration might
strike me.  "I guess the jury's still out on that.  But I've got time to
think about it.  There's a Halloween party tomorrow night and we've both
agreed to go together.  I guess I'll make my decision then."
   "Hmm," I ruminated out loud.  "Well, it's been my experience that hasty
decisions are often times the ones with the biggest consequences.  If I
were you, I'd start thinking about it seriously now and make your decision
before he picks you up tomorrow.  He IS picking you up, isn't he?"
   "Yep," she said.  "Eight o'clock.  The party starts at nine, so we'll
have an hour to grab something to eat."
   Again, I nodded.  "Well, if you decide that tomorrow's the night, just
make sure you bring protection, all right?" Inwardly I was heaving a
massive sigh of relief, almost certain now that I was nudging her gently
enough in his direction that I would be safe from her hormonal onslaught.
   "Pfft!" Beth said derisively.  "Dad, I've been on birth control for,
like, two years now.  Remember?"
   "Ah," I said flatly.  She was right: I was the one who'd taken her to
the doctor to get the pills.  "Right.  Forgot about that.  Okay, fine, but
I'd still like you to use a condom- where sex is concerned, getting
pregnant is only ONE of the serious things to avoid.  You copy?"
   Beth chuckled lightly.  "Roger, Dad.  I copy.  So...  I'm thinking that
I'll get myself an omelet.  What about you?"
   I smiled wolfishly.  "Pancakes, definitely.  I've been craving pancakes
like you wouldn't believe.  The stuff they make us eat at the DFAC couldn't
pass as breakfast to a starving man."
   Beth laughed at that.  "Is it really that bad?" she asked.
   I shrugged.  "No, not really.  I mean, yeah, the breakfasts kind of suck
out there, but the dinners are actually pretty good, most of the time. 
It's a lot of hit-or-miss, really.  And everybody's tastes vary.  Some guys
like certain meals that others might hate.  But, for the most part, pretty
much everyone agrees that powdered eggs are the Army's curse for signing
up."
   "Powdered eggs?" Beth said with disgust.  "Really?  That actually make
you eat that stuff.  Ew!"
   "Yeah.  It's especially nasty when they get the water mix ratios wrong.
And they always do.  It's either too thin or too thick and, either way, it
tastes awful.  No amount of salt or pepper can convince your taste buds
that what you're eating is even remotely related to eggs."
   "I wonder what they make that stuff out of, anyway?" she mused.
   "I haven't a clue," I said, "but if they REALLY want to make the enemy
suffer, they'd force-feed detainees powdered eggs every day for a month. 
Best torture device ever."
   With that my daughter roared with laughter, the subject of sex and boys
totally forgotten.  The resultant conversation shifted and swayed all over
the map, but the topic of sex didn't come up again.  We quickly fell into
our normal routine as a father and daughter and all the tension was gone,
which was a great relief to me.  We thoroughly enjoyed each other's company
and conversation during the rest of the car ride to the restaurant, while
we waited for seating and all the way up until the waitress asked us for
our orders.
   When the waitress appeared at our table, her order pad in hand, I
indicated that Beth should go first, since she was the birthday girl and a
lady.  Beth blushed a little at that and glanced up and down the menu a
final time.  "Ummmm, well," she said slowly, "I'm definitely in the mood
for some-" and she lowered the menu just enough to catch my gaze and tapped
my leg with her foot- "sausage and eggs.  So I'll have a sausage and cheese
omelet, please.  Toast and grits on the side.  And orange juice to drink."
   When the waitress turned to me, waiting for my order, she found herself
waiting a little longer than expected as I was just sitting there, looking
at my daughter with a dumbstruck look on my face.  Holy shit, I thought to
myself, she is fucking goooooood!  I totally didn't not see that little jab
coming.  The waitress prompted me again and I shook myself out of the
mental fog I was in.  "Oh!  Pardon me, my mind was somewhere else-"
   "He's on Leave from Afghanistan," my daughter explained helpfully,
though she knew full well that wasn't why I'd had a train-of-thought-wreck.
   "Oh, wonderful!" the waitress replied.  "Active military on Leave get
one free meal!  Order whatever you'd like, sir.  We appreciate your
service."
   "Uh, wow," I stammered, collecting my wits about me.  "Thank you.  Uhm,
yeah, okay.  I'll have some pancakes, please.  Banana pancakes with
strawberry sauce, two sausage links and some toast.  Iced tea to drink,
please." The waitress scribbled my order down on her pad while I shot a
vindictive glare at my daughter's twinkling, playful eyes.  The waitress
quickly trotted off to place our orders to get our drinks.
   "That," I told my daughter, "was sneaky."
   Beth flashed an impish grin at me.  "I learned from the best," she said.
"Oh, c'mon, Dad.  How could I resist?  You all but left the door open for
that one.  I just walked through it, that's all.  Besides, it's not like
anyone else but you and me would have a clue what I meant."
   I rolled my eyes and shook my head at her.  "But that's just the point,
Sweetheart," I told her.  "I DO have a clue what you meant.  I knew EXACTLY
what you meant.  And I have to make this absolutely clear right here and
now: stop.  Okay?"
   Beth blinked her eyes at me in mock innocence.  "Stop what, Dad?"
   "Stop flirting with me," I said in a hushed whisper so that none of the
other patrons would hear me.  "You're playing with fire.  I love you and I
am MORE than happy to talk openly with you about anything under the sun,
but there's a line and you can't cross it."
   "I'm not crossing anything, Dad," she said plaintively.  "Well, I AM
crossing my legs, but if you'd like me to stop doing that for you, just say
the word and I'll uncross my legs for you in no time flat."
   My jaw dropped open to form a perfect "O" and I just stared at her in
total shock at her brazenness, stricken completely speechless for the first
time in years.
   But Beth just burst out with laughter and pointed at me.  "Oh, man, Dad,
you should see yourself right now!  Oh, MAN, did I get you good!  God, that
was priceless.  DEFINITELY worth the price of admission, just to see the
look on your face.  Oh, I SO had you!"
   My mouth snapped shut and I leaned back hard against the seat back in
total awe of my daughter.  Had she just been fucking with me, trying to
mess with my head and playing a joke at my expense all morning long?  If
so, she had definitely played me like a fiddle.  "You mean...  you mean
that was all a game to you?" I asked with astonishment.
   "Of COURSE it was!" Beth replied between giggles.  "God, Dad, do you
really think I'd be that...  what's the word-"
   "Forward?"
   "No, that's not the one I'm looking for, but that'll do.  Do you really
think I'd be like that out here, in the open?  I was just messing with you.
And look at you!  You took it hook, line and sinker!"
   "So all that stuff about breaking up with Carl, the t-shirt thing over
coffee and the stuff about my dream was just a joke?  Honey, you had me
completely fooled."
   Beth immediately sobered up.  "Oh, no," she answered.  "That was all
totally serious.  No, I'm talking about just a few minutes ago- the
uncrossing my legs thing.  Wow.  You were really fished in.  I just can't
believe you fell for it."
   "Well," I said in my own defense, "after this morning's...  episode, you
can only imagine how I might be easily distracted."
   "I know," Beth said with an air of gloating.  "And I so totally milked
it.  Hah!  C'mon, Dad, you gotta admit it was a good one."
   "All right," I conceded.  "I'll admit it: you got me."
   "Yeah," suddenly she became very serious.  "But all that other stuff, I
meant every word of it.  And that other thing, too?  Hmm..." she glanced
down at the customary cup of coffee that had been placed at our table when
we first sat down to it, "maybe I should change my drink to milk- I could
really go for some CREAM.  Would you happen to have some CREAM for me, Dad?
I only got a little earlier and I think I want some more."
   "Oooh-ho-ho," I said, wagging a finger at her, "now that's hitting below
the belt." I swear, the words fell out of my mouth before I really had time
to think about it and immediately regretted saying them.
   "Not yet it isn't," my daughter retorted deftly.  "But it's still early.
And it IS my birthday." It was the wink and quick wag of her eyebrows that
spelled it out for me: I was in more trouble than I had even imagined. 
Much more.
   The waitress showed up just then with our food, blessedly interrupting
the conversation and giving me a chance to rethink my situation.  I thought
that I had redirected my daughter's sexual attentions back to her
ex-boyfriend, but I was mistaken.  All I'd done was give her another
potential choice; I was apparently still on her menu.  The old Hall & Oates
song "Man-eater" suddenly fluttered through my mind and I couldn't disagree
with the thought that a man-eater is exactly what my daughter was shaping
up to become.  And it seemed that I was the main course.
   I ate my breakfast in thoughtful silence after that, my mind reeling at
the enormity of what Beth had just said to me.  Could she really be that
bold?  What in the world had happened to her while I was gone during that
summer?  She had always been sly and good at making puns, but she just
never showed this kind of interest in me like this before.  Where had it
come from and what could I do to evade it?  I've seen lots of guys go after
women with less assertiveness!  Our relationship had always been based on
trust and friendship, which were great assets to our parent/child
relationship, but this kind of sexual aggression was so unfamiliar to me- I
just couldn't believe that it was coming from, of all people, my own
daughter.  I know I'm not unattractive, but I'm her fucking father for
crying out loud!  I sired her, raised her from a baby, changed her diapers,
taught her how to ride a bike, played card games with her as a child and
even did the make-believe tea party thing a few times when she was little.
I had watched this girl, the fruit of my own loins, blossom into a fine,
upstanding young woman with a bright future ahead of her.  I knew
practically every detail of her life, from start to finish, and this was a
chapter, an aspect of her life that I was totally unprepared to be an
audience to, let alone a participant.
   The scary thing, I realized at one point, is that she was pressing ALL
of the right buttons with me.  I mean, it was truly frightening at how
effective her advances were.  If I had crafted the perfect woman with my
own hands and imagination, even accounting for the proper balance of sexual
aggression versus coyness, that woman would be pretty much exactly like
Beth, down to the last detail.  Even her body hit all the right notes with
me, which boggled my mind since I was actually, for the first time in my
life, seriously looking at her as a potential bedmate.  My own daughter!  I
should have been ashamed of myself, aghast at my own dark thoughts, but
there was a part of me that was utterly divorced from my moral compass and
it was hooting and hollering in my head with a single word: EUREKA!  SHE
DOES EXIST!!!
   When Beth excused herself to go to the bathroom, I closed my eyes for a
long moment to collect my thoughts.  What would my wife have told me?  What
would she have done?  How would she have handled this situation?  I tried
like hell to think of my wife, to call upon my memories of her and, found
myself drawing a blank.  We'd never discussed this possibility.  What
parents DO bring up the potential problem of their offspring making sexual
advances on them?  I had no frame of reference to work from and couldn't
figure out how to proceed.  I love my daughter dearly and didn't want to
chase her away by getting angry at her, but I certainly didn't want to run
the risk of possibly screwing her mind up by allowing her behavior to
continue.  On the other hand, strictly speaking as a male, I couldn't help
but admit that I was truly flattered by the attention.  In a weird sort of
way it made me feel good that a young woman as beautiful and sexy as Beth
would find me even remotely interesting enough to flirt with, whether she
was serious about it or not.  And I guess that was the real question that
faced me: was Beth being serious?  Was she fully aware of the importance of
what she was saying and doing?  Hormones can make teenagers do and say some
extraordinarily crazy things.  Maybe this was just a phase.  Maybe the best
way to get past it was to simply act like it wasn't happening.  Attraction,
however, is a tricky thing- if I ignored her advances she could end up
having severe rejection issues as a result.  Being rejected by her own
father might induce her to seek the attention of ANY male, regardless of
his character, if only to make up for the feeling that "Daddy doesn't
really love me." Oh, boy, what a slippery slope I'd found myself teetering
on!
   Beth rejoined me at the table and interrupted my ruminations.  "Dad? 
Look, I'm sorry.  I've been messing with your head like crazy and it's
obvious that it's gotten to you.  I'll dial it back a bit, okay?  I'm just
being flirty and having with you because I know that, of all the men in
this world, I can trust you to always do what's right for me."
   "Honey, there's NOTHING I won't do for you, but..."
   "It's okay, Dad.  I'm not, like, throwing myself at you, okay?  Just
having a little harmless fun.  I thought, after being in a war zone for so
long and not having a girlfriend, that you'd have a little fun with it,
too. Clearly I was wrong and I'm sorry for that.  But try to understand,
that I won't exactly stop flirting with you altogether because, frankly, I
need the practice.  I've had only two boyfriends in my life and I guess I'm
a little socially stunted in that area because of my limited experience. 
So, please, just relax, okay?  Play around and have fun with it.  I
promise, I promise, I PROMISE that I won't go over the line with it, but
PLEASE let me practice some.  Please?"
   I looked her in the eye and could see that she meant every word of what
she'd said.  I could also see the tiniest bit of hope that we could
continue playing this strange little game.  The beseeching look of appeal
writ large on her face was something that I just couldn't ignore.  Yes, it
was a little fucked up to flirt with my daughter, but when she made a case
like that, how could I refuse her?  I closed my eyes, slowly nodded, looked
at her and said, "Okay, Sweetheart.  I'll play along- up to a point- but
when I start getting that wild look in my eye, you'd BETTER dial it back
more than just 'a bit.' In point of fact, I HAVE been in a war zone for a
long time and I DON'T have a girlfriend.  I'm in a pretty fucking fragile
state of mind these days.  I'm your father and I love you to pieces with
every ounce of my heart, but I'm also a man and I've got limits.  I don't
ever want to hurt you, so if it looks like I'm getting off script, even for
a second, and I'm about to say or do something you really don't want, you'd
better stop me.  All it'll take is a word and I'll stop, but I'm putting a
lot of control in your hands here: I do NOT want to have you emotionally
scarred by anybody, least of all by me.  Understood?"
   Beth blinked at me in wonderment and surprise and was silent for a long
moment.  Finally, she smiled hugely at me.  "Really?" she asked.  "That's
it?  Those're the ground rules?  You're putting ME in control?  Dad, I'm
not so sure that's-"
   I cut her off.  "How else are you going to learn?  Flirting is a very
serious skill and it's an invaluable tool in the dating game.  Now, I'm no
expert in the flirting game, but I do know my limitations, mostly.  I mean,
I think I have a pretty good idea of what does and doesn't appeal to men.
So I'll follow your lead, see where you take us and, if it seems like
you're getting way off the mark with what seems attractive to a guy, I'll
let you know.  Otherwise, it's up to you to gauge my responses.  No matter
what, though, you've got to keep in mind that I am your FA-THER, not some
guy you can just wrap around your finger.  Play to your heart's content,
but the moment it gets serious, you stop yourself and think about the
situation.  You're eighteen now, a legal adult, and as I've told you
before, you're going to have to suffer the consequences of your decisions."
   Beth smiled and leaped forward across the table just enough to give me a
quick peck on the lips.  When she sat back, she said, "Thank you, Dad!  I
KNEW I could count on you to help me.  I totally understand where you're
coming from and I promise: I won't let you say or do anything that makes me
uncomfortable.  God, you're so cool!  I have got to be, like, the luckiest
girl in the world to have a father like you!"
   I smiled warmly at her but inside I was wondering just what the hell I'd
gotten myself into.  Possibly your daughter's knickers, my mind flippantly
said.  I told my mind to shut up and mind its own fucking business for
awhile.  I flagged down our waitress and asked for the check, which she
promptly put in front of me.  As I pulled out a few bills for a tip, I said
to my daughter, "Okay.  Now...  today's your birthday, so it's your day. 
What do you want to do first?"
   Beth's grin grew.  "What does any girl want to do on her birthday?" she
asked in reply.
   I gazed at her, my mind buzzing with potential answers, and then I
seized on the most likely of all suspects.  "Right then," I said.  "Next
stop: the mall."
   "Bingo," she said.
   ----------------------------------------------
   Naturally, I truly did have no clue what I was getting myself into.  We
got to the mall and it was just opening.  Not many people were there except
for some seniors who took advantage of the relatively clear hallways to get
in some walking and window shopping.  Beth, hugging her arm around my waist
while mine was draped around her shoulder as we walked in through the food
court entrance, told me that our first shopping destination would be at
Frederick's of Hollywood.  "I'm eighteen now and I want to feel pretty,"
she told me.
   "Sweetheart," I said, "you already ARE pretty.  You don't need frilly
underwear to prove it."
   "Screw that!  'Frilly underwear' hell," my daughter retorted, "I want
lingerie!  I want the sexiest, skimpiest lingerie they have."
   I let out a low, long whistle.  "I dunno, honey.  Have you SEEN their
line of lingerie?  It gets pretty skimpy."
   "The skimpier the better," she replied.  "Aaaaand, I want you to be my
personal judge."
   I looked down at her with a skeptical eyebrow.  I wasn't so sure about
that, but I had to admit that, as a flirtation tactic, it was a winning
choice.  "Very well," I said soberly.  "I'll try to be as objective as
possible."
   "Are you kidding me?" she said as she glanced up at me, "I want you to
be as SUBjective as you can.  I don't want you to tell me what any guy
would like!  Tell me what YOU like.  Capiche?"
   I tried to seem indifferent about the prospect and said, "Okay.  But you
asked for it.  I freely warn you: I'm pretty picky."
   "Good," Beth said with satisfaction.  "So am I."
   Twenty minutes later I found myself in the sitting room at Frederick's
of Hollywood, waiting for my daughter to step out of the changing room.  I
was more nervous than a basketful of kittens while I perched on the settee,
not sure of what Beth had selected and not entirely certain that the clerk
was convinced that I was really her boyfriend, but she seemed like the
discrete type who knew better than to pry into the affairs (no pun
intended) of others.
   "Ready?" Beth called from behind the changing room curtain.
   "When you are," I answered and steeled myself.
   The curtain parted and my daughter stepped out.  She wore a pair of deep
burgundy, high-cut thong panties that hugged every crevice of her pelvis
like a glove and left very little to the imagination- I could see the
clearly defined shape of her shaven pussy lips through the material, their
peach/pink hue hiding behind the dark fabric.  She also wore a matching,
high-riding shelf bra that pushed her sizeable breasts high enough to make
them seem like they were two sizes bigger than they actually were.  If the
panties left little to the imagination, the bra only helped to enhance it-
they were translucent, almost bordering on transparent.  My eyes roamed up
and down my daughter's short, nubile body as though I was visually dining
on the finest dish known to man, and I savored every detail with relish. 
Her feet were bare and unadorned, showing off pink, unpainted toes and her
arms were canted around her hips sexily, which pushed her enhanced breasts
slightly up and caused them to jut out prominently.  The bra had done such
a magnificent job of hiking her breasts away from gravity's reach that the
very tops of her areolae were just barely visible- they were a slight hue
of pinkish-brown and, if I was judging correctly, looked to be no more than
about a quarter in diameter.  I just stared in stunned silence for several
long seconds at this incredible vision before me, unable to speak- or
think, for that matter.
   "Well?" Beth prompted with a small grin on her face.  "What do you
think?"
   "In a word: wow," I managed to say after clearing my throat.  "It's like
you were made for each other."
   She looked down at herself critically.  "I kinda thought so, too, but
this bra seems a little...  I dunno...  over-the-top, don't you think?" She
realized that her areolae were showing just then and quickly tucked them
in. "Oops!  See what I mean, though?  They say that less is more, right? 
But too much of less is too much of more.  I should probably get the next
size up so that won't happen."
   "Negative," I interjected and she looked at me with surprise.  "Look,
the whole point of lingerie is that it gets worn in the bedroom, right?  If
you're wearing this, and only this, for a guy, I'm guessing that modesty,
at that point, is a bit of an afterthought.  Your tits weren't completely
hanging out, which, yeah, would've been tacky, but showing just a hint is
very sexy and would get just about any guy in the mood."
   "Any guy?"
   "You gotta take closet homosexuals into account," I pointed out
sagaciously.
   Beth giggled at that.  "Okay.  I guess you're right.  At least, I hope
you're right.  I'll put it in the keep pile.  Gimme a minute to get into
the next one." She wheeled around to head back into the changing room stall
and I was privileged with the wonderful view of her backside.  I felt so
dirty for noting that my daughter had a flawlessly perfect ass, but the
evidence of it was hard to refute and I decided that I could forgive myself
a tiny bit.  I waited for about five minutes before she called out to me
again.  "Okay, now brace yourself: this one's a bit riskier."
   I wondered how anything could be riskier than what she'd just shown me.
"Should I close my eyes first?" I asked.
   "Uhm...  yeah.  You probably should." She couldn't see me, but I did
indeed close my eyes.  She waited for a beat or two and then said, "Okay,
I'm coming out.  Eyes closed." I heard the rustling of the curtain and then
she told me to open my eyes.  "Ta-da!"
   Beth stood in front of me, one knee canted at an angle and her arms
stretched out flamboyantly, with a nervous smile on her face.  What she'd
chosen to wear was nothing short of jaw-droppingly sexy and all I could do
was stare in reverent appreciation, silently thanking God for placing me on
this Earth, at this time, in this circumstance, so that I could see this
vision before me.  Beth wore another thong panty, this one white and made
of a translucent, almost mesh-like material with lacy fringe that traced
her hips seductively.  Her top is was a mix between a camisole and
baby-doll nightie that buttoned at the top and left her abdomen completely
exposed in an upside-down V, sleeveless with spaghetti straps, also with
lace all around its trim.  It was made of the same translucent material as
the bottoms and looked delicate, like it could rip with hardly any effort.
The ensemble was so revealing that I could clearly see her nipples (which
were obviously hard- small, pebble-sized protrusions that erupted from, as
I'd guessed, quarter-sized areolae), the defined curvature of her full
breasts and the faint hint of her clean-shaven vulva.  I was seeing more of
my little girl than I had since she was four years old.  The ultra-thin
garments were more of a see-through barrier than actual clothing and their
purpose was to obviously get a guy to shut up and drool.  On some women
such lingerie is a bad idea, but for a select few it's a perfect match of
girly demure and tawdriness.  Definitely sugar and spice and everything
very, very nice.
   "Yep," she said after a moment of silence from me, "you like it. 
Keeper!" Then she turned around and bent down, showing me her flawless ass
cheeks.  "It doesn't expose too much, does it?"
   My pulse raced, my cock was thumping like a jack-rabbit behind my jeans
and I felt my sweat glands starting to heat up in overdrive.  I wasn't just
staring at my daughter's ass, I was worshipping it from five feet away. 
Her little rosebud was just barely visible behind the thin line, which was
exciting enough to see, but it was the sight of her hidden/not-hidden pussy
that sent me over the moon.  The translucent material hugged every curve
and nuanced feature of my daughter's mound in such a way that it was like I
was looking at a showcase devoted especially to her private parts.  Her
small pussy lips were clearly visible through the material and I could just
barely make out the faintest hint of her clitoris as she all but showed
herself to me.  I forced myself to get my shit together and said, "No.  I'm
pretty sure that it exposes just about enough to cause a heart attack, but
'too much' is a little difficult to define right now."
   Beth righted herself and looked at me with something closely resembling
pity.  "All right, Da- uhm, John.  I've got just one more thing to try and
then we can go.  Deal?"
   I looked up at her and tried my best to ignore her near nakedness. 
"Please?" I begged.
   Beth tilted her head back and laughed out loud, the ringlets of her
brown hair dancing prettily off her barely-covered breasts.  "Okay.  Yes. I
promise, just one more and then we're through.  With this place, anyway."
She turned around again, this time to get back into the changing room.
   "You mean there's more stuff you want to get?" I asked through closed
eyes, trying my best to mentally store what I'd just seen in a place within
my mind that even amnesia couldn't touch it.
   "Of course!" Beth replied from within the changing room.  "Tomorrow IS
Halloween and I still have to get my costume together."
   I slapped my forehead.  "Are you kidding me?  Sweetheart, you've had
months to prepare.  It's your favorite holiday for pete's sake.  How on
earth could you wait this long?"
   "I was having a hard time deciding what I wanted to wear this year," she
explained.  "I made my decision just yesterday, while I was driving down to
Nashville to pick you up from the airport."
   "So what're you going as?" I asked.
   "Ah-ah-ah," she said.  "I'm not going to show you until tomorrow."
   "So how do you expect us to go shopping for your costume if you won't
let me see it?" I asked in confusion.
   "You'll stay outside the store while I'm getting it."
   "With my credit card in your hand, I suppose," I added warily.
   "Naturally.  Don't worry, though- I've already done some price checking
and it won't be too expensive.  Thirty bucks, tops.  Really, all I have to
do is just go pick it up.  They're holding it for me right now, actually. I
called in my request last night while you were recovering from the trip."
She paused for a moment and then said, "Okay.  I'm about to come out in the
last outfit.  Prepare yourself."
   "Eyes closed again?" I asked.
   "Nah.  Just try to hold onto something stable." With that, she stepped
out from behind the curtain in her third ensemble.  Of the three, this one
wasn't anywhere near as revealing, but it was definitely just as sexy.  She
wore a white halter-bra that forced her breasts to create a virtual
landslide of cleavage and had a tasteful amount of lace trim.  The material
was still translucent, but not as thin as the see-through nightie top.  On
her slim hips was a garter belt that seemed like it was made almost
exclusively of lace and that was it- no panties at all.  The garter belt
was connected to a pair of white stockings that stopped at mid-thigh and
were made of the same barely-translucent material as the bra.  I could see
hints and traces of my daughter's thighs under the light material, which
seemed to almost shimmer and shine in the store's lighting.  On her feet
were a pair of white pump stilettos which buckled smartly across the top
arches of her feet and had thin straps which hugged her ankles snugly.
   I inwardly cringed at the vision in front of me, the sight of her
completely bare and bald pussy just a few feet away while the rest of her
exquisite body was so lightly covered.  "All things considered, this one is
probably the most daring of the three outfits," I told her, "but it should
probably be worn with panties.  I've never really been a garter-belts kind
of guy, though, so I might not be the best judge."
   "Really?" Beth asked with surprise.  "I would've thought that garter
belts would be your thing."
   I arched my eyebrows at her.  "Neverminding HOW, exactly, you'd come to
that conclusion, the truth is: no, they don't do much for me.  That said,
they DO look sexy on you."
   She stepped in front of the mirror beside me and looked herself over in
the reflection critically while I helplessly stared at her naked ass
cheeks. "I don't know..." she said absent-mindedly and let her hands slide
seductively down her sides.  "I kind of like them.  What do you think of
the material?" She held out one of her legs for me to touch the fabric.
   I looked up at her without moving, the uncertainty obvious in my eyes.
"Honey, I hardly see how what I think of how they feel would make a
difference.  It's not like you'll be wearing them for ME."
   Beth rolled her eyes upwards in exasperation.  "But, right now, I AM
wearing them for you.  Just humor me, will you?"
   I did my own share of eye rolling, but decided to play along.  I reached
up with one hand to gently stroke her thigh through the stocking material
while I kept my eyes locked onto hers.  Her skin felt slick and smooth
under the fabric, almost like my hand was following the contours of her
body through water.  Her flesh was warm and supple to the touch and it was
just at that moment that I could actually smell my daughter.  Her rich,
musky fragrance hit me like a steam locomotive, sent my senses reeling and
I couldn't stop myself from glancing at her obviously aroused pussy which
was mere inches from my face.  With the one leg bent upward like it was,
her pussy lips were slightly parted almost invitingly and my hand stopped
at the top of the stocking.  Maybe it was the combination of her seductive
odor coupled with the feel of the stockings, but I suddenly found myself a
huge fan of the ensemble.  I looked up at her, my daughter's musky crotch
driving me almost insane with desire, and caught her gaze just past the
swell of her breasts.  She was looking down at me with a small smirk.  "Not
bad," I croaked, my hand now frozen at the backside of her thigh, just
inches below the bottom of her ass and so tantalizingly close to her
pungent womanhood.  If my fingertips moved just an inch or so closer I'd
have been able to feel her wetness.
   She leaned down, held on to my hand at the wrist without moving it, and
quietly said, "Not bad?  Don't worry, Dad: it gets better." With that, she
pulled my hand away from her thigh, brushed the backs of my fingertips
against her moist mound, and brought it to her lips.  Keeping her eyes
locked onto mine, she gently kissed my fingertips, licked her own juices
off them and then stepped away, letting my hand flop down by my side while
I just gaped at her.
   "Y'know what?" she said, cocking her hips to one side while resting her
hands on them, "I think this flirting thing is a lot easier than people
make it out to be."
   I bought all three outfits for her while Hall & Oates crooned
meaningfully in the back of my mind about my daughter the man-eater.
   ----------------------------------------
   As we strolled down one of the mall's hallways, my arm once again hooked
over her shoulder, Beth asked, "So...  how'd I do?  With the flirtation
stuff?"
   I took a deep breath before answering.  "Well," I said, "on a scale of
one to ten, I'd say you went off the charts to about a fifteen.  Actually,
it was kind of cathartic for me."
   Beth knitted her brows.  "Cathartic?  I'm not sure I know that that
means."
   I gave it a bit of thought as we walked a few paces.  "Well," I
explained, "I learned that I've got a lot more self control than I knew I
had.  That bit with the stockings was right at the edge of the line, but
you dialed it back just in time.  If you weren't my daughter, it might've
gone in a completely different direction."
   Beth came to a halt and I stopped by her side.  She had a far-off look
on her face like she was staring at something in the middle-distance. 
Finally, after a moment of thoughtful silence, she said, "Maybe there's
something to that.  For the time being, let's try and forget that you're my
dad and I'm your daughter.  Today, we're just a couple that's going
shopping and hanging out."
   I smirked at her.  "That'll be kind of hard with you calling me Dad all
the time," I said.
   She blushed slightly.  "Sorry.  It's a habit that I don't think I can
break myself of.  All my life you've been Dad to me.  Just, um, try and
hear 'John' when I say 'Dad.' And when we're around other people I'll try
to make sure that I call you by your proper name.  Will that work?"
   I gave her a wan smile and shrugged.  "I guess that'll have to do.  I
guess I've got it easier because I've always called you Beth."
   "And 'Sweetheart' and 'Honey' and 'Babygirl', but not 'Babygirl' in
quite a while.  Actually, I kinda miss that one."
   "Really?" I asked, genuinely surprised.  "I thought that, after you
turned fourteen, you'd outgrown it.  You kept saying that you weren't a
baby anymore."
   "Well," my daughter said with a shrug, "what can I say?  Sometimes I'm
an idiot, too.  Back then I was all concerned with growing up and stuff. 
Now that I am, I realize that it was just a term of endearment and I miss
it.  It was my favorite one."
   I hugged her a little closer to me and said, "Well, Babygirl, I'll do my
best to keep it in circulation for you.  Cool?"
   Beth smiled brightly.  "Very cool.  Thanks."
   "Don't mention it.  Now...  where to next?"
   She looked around us searchingly for a minute or two and then fixed her
eyes on an electronics store.  "Why not there?  We went to a place I like,
it's only fair that we go check out some stuff for you, too, geek-boy."
   "Boy?" I said indignantly.  "I'll have you know, young lady, that I am
all man."
   "After what I saw this morning," my daughter quipped, "I couldn't agree
more."
   I took that in stride as we made our way to the electronics store. 
"Thanks, I guess.  Your mother definitely never complained."
   Beth nodded understandingly.  "I'm sure she didn't.  How big is it,
anyway?  Eight?  Seven-and-a-half?"
   That we were talking about the size of my cock felt only slightly
uncomfortable, but I realized that this was part of her flirtation
practice- she was learning how to focus part of the conversation on the guy
in a way that stroked his ego and made him feel confident.  Pretty smart
tactic, actually.  I decided to indulge her a little bit.  "Nine and a
half," I told her.  "And, last I checked, seven in circumference."
   She let out a low whistle, clearly impressed.  "Wow.  Thick AND long.  I
mean, damn Dad, that's bigger than my toy.  Mom wasn't much bigger than me,
how in the hell did she manage?"
   I smiled wolfishly at the memory of the many love-making sessions my
wife and I had before she passed away.  "Slowly, at first," I answered
boldly, "but after awhile she adjusted just fine to it.  It's not like I'm
packing a baseball bat down there, Babygirl.  Bigger than average, sure,
but not impossible to deal with."
   "For women the size of Mom and me, that might as well BE a baseball
bat."
   I wisely decided not to comment.  The subtext was clear enough yet
again: she intended to find out.
   We walked into the electronics store and the topic of my penis size
ended immediately, like walking through the entrance somehow forbade us
from speaking of such things.  Now we were in shopping mode and pretty much
all of our focus was on all of the gadgets and toys that were on display. I
made a beeline for the back of the store where they kept the flat-screen
TV's while Beth drifted off to look at the MP3 players.  For the longest
time I'd wanted to get a flat-screen TV but I never had the finances to
afford it.  Being on deployment, however, provides a soldier with higher
pay and the last five months of being overseas left me with a sizeable
amount of savings at my disposal.  Of course I wasn't going to blow my
entire savings on some über-television, but I could comfortably afford to
spend about $800.  I looked around at the TV's in my price range and
finally decided on one that I liked.  While I was looking it over, Beth
came up to me.
   "Find something you like, Dad?" she asked me.
   "Yep," I said.
   One of the salesmen approached us.  "Can we help you with anything,
sir?"
   I turned to him.  "Do you do deliveries?"
   "We do, sir, for purchases over $500."
   I pointed to the TV I wanted.  "That one." Without another word I made
my way to the checkout counter with both my daughter and the salesman
following closely behind.
   "Seriously?" Beth said.  "You're actually gonna get one?"
   "Yep."
   "Cool!"
   Ten minutes later the unit was paid for and arrangements had been made
for it to be dropped off at the house later that day.  Beth was completely
agog with surprise at me.  I was not one to typically make impulse
purchases, especially large ones, but I guess hanging out with my daughter
like I was had an effect on me.  I was FEELING impulsive in her company. 
Not stupid-impulsive, mind you, but I definitely felt a little less... 
restrained.
   When we found ourselves back in the mall's hallway again, she said, "I
can't believe you just did that.  You NEVER do things like that!  I mean,
you're not, like, Scrooge or anything, but I don't think I've ever seen you
just go out and buy something expensive like that.  You're usually all,
like, let's check out the price; let's shop around; let's compare
performance."
   "What can I say?" I replied.  "I'm on Leave from deployment.  I don't
have time to do all of those things.  Sometimes, Sweetheart, you just gotta
dive in and take the plunge.  Now, that's not exactly one of my little
nuggets of wisdom, but it's true enough in some cases."
   "I think I like seeing this side of you, Dad," Beth declared.  "It makes
you seem more approachable."
   I looked down at her, feeling slightly affronted.  "You mean I wasn't
before?"
   "Oh, sure," she said wistfully, "but you've always been this safe guy,
y'know?  Always playing it safe.  I'm young.  I like risks, probably
because I can afford to take some at my age."
   "And you think that, at MY age, I can't afford to take some risks now
and then?"
   "I'm sure you can, Dad, but let's face it: you're not likely to.  Don't
get me wrong, that's part of your charm.  You're one of those guys who's
seen enough in Life to know how some things turn out, how people can
sometimes get hurt, and you care enough about the people you love to look
after their safety, like you do with me and Mom.  You've always been there
for us, looking out to make sure we were okay.  What girl doesn't want a
white knight in shining armor?"
   "I can buy that," I said and felt myself inwardly glow with pride at her
observations.  "Okay.  So...  what next?  More clothes?  Home?  It's your
call."
   "Hmm," my daughter said pensively as we walked along.  After a moment,
she came up with an idea.  "How about a movie?"
   I wrinkled my nose at the idea and shook my head.  "I've already
checked- nothing that I really want to see is out right now.  Besides, a
movie is kinda clichéd these days, don't you think?"
   "Clichéd?  For what?"
   "A date," I stated matter-of-factly.  "The way I figure it, for all
intents and purposes, we're on a date, you and me."
   Beth looked up at me with a playful smirk and stopped us again.  "Dads
and daughters aren't supposed to go out on dates together, are they?"
   "They are if they aren't dads and daughters," I reminded her. 
"Remember? Today I'm not Dad, even if you can't stop calling me that. 
Today I'm good ol' Johnny Carson, out with one of the hottest girls in
town, which makes me just about the luckiest guy IN town."
   She blushed profusely at that but seemed to perk up with happiness. 
"You really think I'm hot?"
   "Babygirl, after that display at Frederick's, I'd say that you're just
about the hottest young thing I've ever seen and, if you weren't my
daughter, which you aren't today but you are, I'd be chomping at the bit to
fuck you bow-legged and breed you like a man's hardwired to do.  Try not to
swoon in public, honey.  People might notice." Now it was Beth's turn to
just stare at me in astonishment and seemed to be transported to another
world entirely, her body almost waving in the wind.  "What was that you
were saying about me being the safe guy?" I prodded.
   My daughter closed her eyes and stiffened suddenly, her body shaking and
her fingertips curled up into tiny fists as her muscles tensed up.  Seconds
later she managed to catch her breath, started to relax and said, "I think
I just did something involuntary." She glanced down at her pelvic region,
shuddered slightly again and then looked back up at me.  "Yep."
   Her cheeks were obviously flushed.  Without laying a hand on her, I'd
managed to give my daughter an orgasm in public- not a very fatherly thing
to do, but the man in me was thrilled at the victory of it.  And on the
heels of that realization, I suddenly found myself reminded of the fact
that I AM her father.  I shouldn't be getting her off in public or anywhere
else for that matter!  What in the world am I doing?!
   "Are you okay?" I asked with real concern.
   "I think," my daughter said quietly, "we should go home.  Now."
   ---------------------------------------
   Beth was strangely quiet the whole ride back home, which had me a bit
concerned.  She was putting out these weird vibes like she was nervous,
frustrated, depressed and troubled all at the same time.  I asked again if
she was okay at one point and she distractedly said that she was fine,
"Just thinking." I didn't press her on the matter but decided that I must
have pushed her too far.  But if she wasn't going to talk about it, I might
as well just shut up and wait until she was ready.  I'd learned long ago,
with my wife, that women don't mind talking about the things that bother
them, except when what's bothering them is still fresh on their minds- they
prefer, usually, to mull it over and decide for themselves if it's really
worth being bothered about.  And it's funny, too, because when a guy sees a
girl becoming introspective, his natural instinct is to start worrying. 
Being a little experienced around women, however, allowed me to push aside
the worry and just be patient.
   We got to the house and Beth asked for the keys to the car.  I handed
them over to her with a questioning look on my face.  "I think I need some
time alone for a little while," she said quietly.  "And I'm sure you could
use a little time to yourself, too.  You kept saying that you didn't get
much of that while you were in Afghanistan.  I'm gonna go get my Halloween
costume by myself."
   I soberly nodded and handed her my credit card.  "I love you, Babygirl.
You know that, right?"
   Beth smiled sweetly.  "Not a doubt in the world about that, Dad.  I
just...  need time to think.  That's all.  And don't worry, you didn't do
or say anything to upset me.  I just realized that I need to do some
thinking on my own and without any distractions.  Seriously, I really
enjoyed shopping and stuff with you- that isn't the problem.  But...  I do
need some room, okay?"
   I nodded again.  "I think I understand, Sweetheart.  I'll be here if you
need me.  Drive safe, all right?"
   "I will," she said breezily as she got into the driver's seat.  "Love
you!" And, then, off she went, leaving me standing there like a bump on a
log in the driveway, my hands in my pockets and my head full of questions.
About thirty seconds later I realized that she had the keys to the house.
Fortunately, there was a spare that I had hidden in the back yard and I was
able to let myself in without trouble.
   Being in that house alone was, I must admit, kind of nice.  She was
right in that I didn't get much "me time" while on deployment and could use
some, but I was a little worried about her.  That crack of mine about
wanting to fuck her bow-legged probably hit a little too close for comfort.
I made a mental note to apologize for it when she returned.  That said, the
whole morning had gotten me pretty hot and bothered, the time spent in
Frederick's of Hollywood especially.  She'd pushed me far too close to the
edge, so now we were even.
   I figured that, with Beth out of the house, then was as good a time as
any to get back on my computer and visit Literotica for a little while.  At
least, now, I wouldn't miss her coming home and I'd have time to make
myself decent, just in case she returned earlier than expected.  I'd read
about six different stories on my favorite topic and found, much to my
surprise, that I was able to do so without trouble, unlike earlier that
morning.  I didn't jack off, even though I was hard as a rock halfway
through the second story, but I wasn't imagining my daughter and myself in
the lead roles, either.  After reading those stories I did a little actual
surfing on the web and did my best to occupy myself while I waited for Beth
to come back.  Two hours later I heard the car pull into the drive way,
listened as Beth made her way upstairs to her room (I presume to drop off
the day's purchases) and then come downstairs in the direction of my room.
She rapped lightly on my door, which was slightly ajar, and called out to
me.  I told her to come in and she gently pushed the door open and leaned
against the door frame.
   "I think I owe you an apology," she told me, looking very small and
vulnerable right then.  "Two of them, actually.  First, for lying to you.
The truth is, yeah, what you said at the mall, about wanting to fuck me,
had a huge effect on me.  I'm not proud of it, but I actually came when I
heard that." She shook her head as though to knock loose her thoughts. 
"Anyway, what you said hit me like a ton of bricks.  In that brief moment I
found myself actually imagining what it would be like to be with you, you
know, having sex.  And I knew how wrong it was, all the stuff that society
teaches us.  I knew that I shouldn't be having those kinds of thoughts.  At
first it was all fun and games and stuff, but when you said that, I think I
realized, for the first time, just how you've probably been feeling since
you woke up.  And that's what the second apology is for: it was unfair of
me to mess with your head like that, Dad.  I was being insensitive and I'm
sorry."
   I smiled warmly and lovingly at her as I stood up to hug her the way a
father should.  "It's okay," I said as she wrapped her arms behind me,
returning the hug and appreciating the comfort of it.  "You're still
growing up and learning about boundaries.  I understand that and always
have.  You're my daughter and I love you.  I meant it when I said that
there's nothing I won't do for you, including and up to putting you in your
place when it's necessary." We broke our embrace sort of halfway so that we
could look at each other eye-to-eye.  "Kind of sobering, isn't it, to feel
what someone else is feeling?"
   She nodded slowly.  "Yeah.  I was just so wrapped up in whether or not I
COULD flirt with you that I didn't give much thought as to whether or not I
SHOULD.  When my imagination started going into overdrive, though, I kinda
got scared.  Scared of myself, mostly, because I could see just how easy it
would be to go that far." She completely let go of me and walked further
into my bedroom.  "Actually, I have a third apology for you.  A confession,
really." She indicated that I should sit down for this one.
   I walked over to my bed and sat at the edge of it, somehow understanding
that this next apology was going to be a whopper.  "Okay," I said
cautiously.
   Beth turned around to face my computer, took control of the mouse and
clicked it a few times.  She was blocking the screen from my view so that I
couldn't see what she was doing, but a moment later she stepped aside.  On
the screen was a Literotica user account.  "While you were away I used your
computer because mine had gotten a virus.  At first, it was so that I could
get the latest antivirus updates and fix my computer like you taught me. 
But when I opened the web browser and saw your Favorites list, I saw this
website.  Well, you know me, always getting curious about stuff.  So I
clicked on it.  What came up kind of surprised me.  I thought it would just
take me to the index page.  I didn't know you'd set it to the Search page
with specific parameters already set in.  At first I was kind of upset
about it but, after a few days of thinking it over, I decided to read some
of them and it wasn't so bad, really.  But the thing that really threw me,"
she said as she turned around to manipulate the mouse once again and
suddenly my own profile page was on the screen, "was when I saw your own
account.  I'm not sure what surprised me more, Dad: the fact that you wrote
those stories or that you wrote them so well."
   So the cat was out of the bag now and she knew my dark secret.  I'd been
afraid that this day might come, but never really thought it would.  Was I
just stupid or did some deep part of me want her to possibly find out?  I
couldn't answer that one right away, but I began to understand her behavior
the last couple of days.
   "I became a big fan of your work, Dad," she continued, as though to
confirm my burgeoning suspicions.  "I read every single one of your stories
and couldn't believe that YOU were the person who wrote all of THESE.  The
safe guy.  The careful one in the family.  Stories about dads getting their
daughters pregnant.  Stories about whole families having orgies.  Stories
about twins seducing their parents.  It was like you had this alter-ego
personality and I was just amazed by it.  Humbled, really.  So, when I
started flirting with you, I thought that you'd get into it like one of
your characters and make my pulse race a little, give me a cheap thrill to
be one of your fantasy girls or something, I don't know.  But when you said
what you did at the mall, all of it became very real and, for a moment, I
saw how the fantasy could so easily become the reality.  And I didn't want
to do that to you.  I didn't want to trick you."
   I was immediately on my guard at that point.  Without even trying to,
without taking any kind of active role, I had managed to cause distress in
my little girl.  "Honey, I can explain-"
   She held up a silencing hand.  "Don't," she said simply.  "You don't
need to.  Look, Dad, I understand that there's a difference between fiction
and reality, okay?  It's like, Stephen King may write stories about people
being killed by homicidal maniacs but that doesn't mean he's going around
Maine with an axe in his hand, right?  We all have demons, I guess, and
this is probably just your way of dealing with them.  I totally respect
that.  And the way you behaved with me today, the way you controlled
yourself despite my best efforts, only confirms that you're not some
horn-dog with a letch for getting into his daughter's pants.  Well," she
blushed, "not until I pushed you a little too far."
   "Sweetheart," I interjected, "stop.  Hold on, okay?  Those stories... 
yeah, they interest me.  Yeah, I've even written a few-"
   "Twenty-four," she corrected flatly.
   "Okay, MORE than a few," I amended, "But you have to understand
something.  I've had an interest in those kinds of stories since before I
got married to your mother." I then went on to explain how her mother and I
both had an interest in incest stories and where our interests were
exactly. I also explained how, no matter what our interests in erotic
fiction were, neither of us ever gave it serious consideration in our real
lives.  "When I wrote those stories, you were the furthest thing from my
mind," I told her.  "Honest to God."
   Beth frowned a little at that while she thought about it.  Then she
looked up at me.  "But what about now?" she asked.  "What if you write
another story sometime down the line and, after today's events, I'm NOT the
furthest thing from your mind?"
   I gave it some consideration and conceded the point as valid.  "That's a
possibility, I guess," I answered.  "But I haven't written one of those
stories in years.  Look at the publication dates- the last one was more
than three years ago, before Lynn passed away.  I've been too busy to sit
down and write anything and I'm pretty sure that will continue to be the
case until I get out of the Army."
   My daughter took a deep, cleansing breath and closed her eyes.  When she
opened them, she said, "What if I WANT you to write a story?  About me. 
What if you wrote one and got it out of your system that way?"
   "What are you talking about?" I asked.  "There's nothing to GET out of
my system."
   "Bullshit.  I love you, Dad.  You have no idea how much.  And I don't
want you to look at me with feelings of guilt or shame.  I saw the look in
your eyes when you said that, if I wasn't your daughter, you wanted to fuck
me.  But I AM your daughter and it was a real desire, one that you were
barely controlling.  As they say: thought may as well be deed.  So write
about it.  I WANT you to.  I couldn't bear it if, one day, you just ignore
me because your conscience is eating at you.  Write about it and get it out
of your system."
   I shook my head at the idea.  "Sweetheart, I wish I could tell you that
it worked like that for me, but it doesn't.  You'd be amazed at the stories
I've written over the course of my lifetime, from all kinds of different
genres.  Each one of them was the result of inspiration.  I've tried
forcing myself to write, but it never works out.  It always comes out
stunted and fake-sounding.  Flat." I shrugged.  "I just couldn't begin to
think of a story I'd write about you or anyone else, really.  The writing
bug isn't biting and there's no real switch that I can flip to make it
happen.  Maybe, one day, it will, but I can't guarantee what the story will
be about or if it'll even be erotic fiction.  But I'll tell you what: if
the urge strikes me at some point, if I get sufficiently inspired, you'll
be the first to know about it."
   "All you'd need is the inspiration." It didn't sound like a question,
more like a clarification, I guess.  I nodded in reply.  "Would you let me
read it?" she asked.
   I blinked owlishly at her.  Why on earth would she want to read such a
story?  You'd think that would be just a little over the edge of weird.  On
the other hand, she'd already read my other stories, so reading one more
can't be any more damaging, even if she ends up being the subject matter. I
answered her as honestly as I could, though.  "If you want to, sure."
   Beth nodded and started to walk back out of my room but paused at the
doorway to look back at me over her shoulder.  "You really are a good
writer, you know," she told me.  "That third one about the twins?  I came,
like, three times the first time I read it." And, with that, she left me
alone to my thoughts and misgivings.
   I then realized that today's events were nothing new to her: I'd made
her cum plenty of times without touching her already.
   -------------------------------------------
   I emerged from my room a few hours later, feeling a bit hungry and
having taken a lot of time to consider the most recent conversation with my
daughter.  I hadn't had lunch and it was nearly five in the afternoon.  It
was still Beth's eighteenth birthday, and I wanted to take her out for a
nice dinner, but I wasn't sure how receptive she'd be to that.  From what I
could tell, it seemed like she was feeling kind of ashamed of herself, like
she'd somehow let me down.  I didn't want her to think, for a minute, that
I was disappointed in her, for anything.  Had she tried to manipulate me
and put me through an emotional wringer?  Yes, absolutely.  But that was a
teenager's job, isn't it?  She might still be a legal adult now, but she
was still growing and one's age is not always an indication of one's
maturity level- she probably wouldn't FEEL like a young adult for another
six months, possibly even another year.  She still had college in front of
her and a whole slew of experiences that she could scarcely imagine.  Most
of MY life was already behind me while most of hers lay ahead.  As her
father, it was my duty to guide her down that treacherous path to adulthood
and I couldn't very well accomplish that task if she didn't feel
comfortable around me.
   What was I supposed to do at that point, though?  I meant it when I'd
told her that I couldn't just sit down and bang out a story the way a chef
whips up a good soup.  The ingredients for creating a believable,
worthwhile piece of fiction are infinitely more complicated (no disrespect
meant to chefs, mind you- not being a chef, I could be totally wrong). 
Writing a good story, and that's all I'd ever let myself spend time doing
if I DO write, takes a lot more than mere inspiration.  It takes time, it
takes patience, it takes motivation, it takes lots of experiences to draw
upon, it takes...  Life.  In my mind, a writer's job is to tell the story
of his characters and treat them as though they're real people who are
simply using the writer as a sort of medium.  Whether it's first-person
subjective or third-person objective, if the characters don't come through
as being real to the audience, the story goes cold and the audience loses
interest.  As the writer, I tend to write stories that I would like to
read. That others enjoy them, too, is merely good fortune (and good taste
on the part of my audience, I suppose- you can't see the wry grin I'm
wearing right now).  If I'm writing a story and I don't buy it as a member
of the audience, why continue with it?  Why force it?  Trying to go back to
the beginning and rewriting it will just result in a completely different
story.  And if I'm not feeling the motivation to write, the words just
don't come as easily as they should.  It becomes a pointless endeavor.
   So how was I supposed to write a story about fucking my daughter when...
oh, hell, let's face it, I wasn't interested in writing such a story- I was
more interested in living it out in real life.  Why was I kidding myself
and dancing around the issue?  I needed to man up and face the truth of the
situation.  Yes, Beth had almost completely gotten under my skin and I,
against my better judgment, enjoyed the hell out of it.  When I uttered
those words at the mall there was more than a grain of truth behind them
and she knew it.  Yes, I was trying to put her in my shoes and force her to
identify with what I was feeling, but I was also speaking from my gut- at
that moment, I truly did want to throw my daughter over one of those indoor
mall benches, flip up the hem of her cute summer dress, rip off her panties
(if she was wearing any) and fuck the living daylights out of her, right
there in front of God and everybody.  If I was a different sort of man, if
I wasn't her father, I probably would've tried.  She brought out, or at
least brought to the surface of my psyche, the savage, carnal animal that
resides within most of us.  And even though the part of me that dearly
loved her as a father managed to retain control, managed to put that beast
back into its cage, the desire and knowledge of it still lingered in my
mind.  I'd had that desire, that clear and unbridled lust for my own
daughter, and there was no escaping that fact.
   Strangely, though, I didn't feel too guilty about it.  The more I
thought about it, the more I realized that I wasn't a sole conspirator in
that episode.  Beth really had pushed my buttons and kept poking and
prodding at my capacity for self-control every chance she could.  At
breakfast I'd warned that she was playing with fire, that she might get
burned, but she took that risk anyway.  Yes, she had her reasons and some
of them, even if I couldn't agree with her rationale, were at least
understandable.  She wasn't going to be my little girl forever and I needed
to own up to that.  Sooner or later she would go out into the world on her
own and she would need to know her limits lest some guy came along and
destroyed her emotionally or physically.  She'd pushed me and, almost out
of reflex, I'd pushed back.  It was a hard lesson for both of us, but it
was no reason for either of us to feel shame or guilt.  If we owned up to
our feelings and thoughts, if we were honest with each other and ourselves,
we might be able to get back to where we were and just look at this whole
thing as a weird fluke.  Hell, we might even find ourselves laughing about
it someday down the road.
   One thing was certain: we wouldn't get to that point if we avoided each
other.
   I knocked on her bedroom door and waited patiently for her to answer.  A
moment later, the door opened and there she stood before me, her hair
slightly unkempt and looking like she'd just woken up from a long nap. 
"Hi," I said lamely.  "Sorry if I woke you up."
   She shook her head at the apology.  "It's all right.  I needed to get up
anyway.  I shouldn't spend my entire birthday in bed.  What's up?"
   I patted my stomach.  "Baby hungry.  Baby need food.  Baby wants company
for dinner."
   Beth smiled at me, helpless to appreciate my sense of humor.  "Is that
so?  Well, what is baby hungry for?" she asked.  "These," she hefted up her
breasts, "aren't giving any milk right now.  And probably won't be for a
long while."
   My eyebrows perked up at that.  I don't know what came over me, but I
decided to test the waters just the tiniest bit.  "Baby doesn't mind
waiting."
   Beth let loose with some hearty laughter at that and walked away from
the door to grab her purse.  "Now who's playing with fire?" she asked. 
"But, seriously, what're you hungry for?"
   I shook my head.  "You're the birthday girl, honey.  You decide."
   "I think," she said, "I'd like some Italian.  There's that place
downtown that I've heard about from some of the girls at school.  Want to
give it a try?"
   I shrugged my shoulders.  I'd heard of the place from a few of my
buddies, too.  Nearly everyone who mentioned it had nothing but good things
to say about the food, service and establishment.  Besides which, the stuff
they call spaghetti in Afghanistan has left me wanting in a big way for a
true, decent Italian meal.  "Sure," I said.  "Why not?  And how about you
drive this time?"
   "You gonna have some wine with dinner?" she asked.
   I blinked in surprise.  I honestly hadn't considered it, but a glass of
wine, after today, probably wouldn't be such a bad idea- my nerves were
shot.  "I hadn't planned on it, but now that you mention it, I might.  I
really was just wanting to let you drive, that's all."
   She mulled it over for a second and then shook her head.  "Nah.  You
drive.  If you do have some wine I'll be happy to drive us back, but I'll
have plenty of opportunity to drive while you're gone.  This is as much
your time as it is mine."
   I stepped back into the hallway and bowed regally.  "Well, my good and
gracious lady, if you'll come this way, your chariot awaits."
   Beth breezed past me, shaking her head, and muttered, "You can be so
corny sometimes."
   We were just about to go through the kitchen, which has a balcony exit
that leads out to the driveway, when she stopped short of the door.  "You
forget something?" I asked, perplexed.
   She just stood there and then looked to the side like she was staring at
the cabinetry.  "You know what?"
   "Uhm...  what?"
   She turned.  "I think, for my birthday, I'd like to make you dinner. 
Why go out?  It's not like I don't know how to cook and I've actually
missed doing that for you.  Yeah...  I want to cook YOU my birthday
dinner."
   I cocked my head to one side, still somewhat confused, but wasn't about
to argue the matter.  Beth cooks one hell of a good batch of spaghetti,
lasagna, tortellini- you name it, she knows how to make it.  The only real
limitation for her, when it comes to cooking, is utensils and ingredients.
In the intervening three years since Lynn died, Beth had learned quite a
bit about cooking and was actually pretty talented.  I'd have to be crazy
to turn her offer down, even if it was a bit strange.  I mean, really, who
wants to cook on their birthday?  I thought that your birthday was a day
when someone else was supposed to cook for you.  Nevertheless, her offer
seemed earnest and I wasn't fool enough to turn down one of her home-cooked
meals.  "All right.  Home it is.  Is it okay if I help?"
   Beth put her purse down on the kitchen table and shook her head.  "Nope.
You go listen to some music or watch TV or something.  I'll call you when
dinner's ready."
   "What about supplies?" I asked.
   "I got everything we need already," she said as she started to make her
way into the kitchen.  "I figured that I'd be cooking for you at some point
so I got all of the ingredients of our favorite meals."
   "Great!" I enthused.  "So...  what's for dinner?"
   "I'm not telling.  Let your nose try to figure it out.  But I'll tell
you this much," she turned back around to face me and once again hefted her
breasts in my direction, "you won't be feasting on these puppies tonight."
   I feigned a disappointed look and said, "Awwww.  Not even for dessert?"
   My daughter laughed lightly.  "Scat, you, before I make you chop
onions."
   "Well, at least, then, I'd know what you were making for dinner."
   "Uh-uh.  I'd make you chop them downstairs.  And I wouldn't even use
'em. I'd make you chop 'em just so I could see you cry.  Now scoot. 
Babygirl needs her privacy to cook," she finished as she shooed me away.
   I went downstairs and decided to watch TV.  Almost as soon as I flipped
it on, the doorbell rang and I was suddenly reminded of the fact that we
had a new TV which was supposed to be delivered that day.  As I turned the
TV off and started to get on my feet, Beth called down, "Dad!  It's for
you! And I'm pretty sure you want to hurry." Yep.  That was the new TV.  I
bounded upstairs happily and was surprised to find that the TV wasn't just
being delivered but that installation was part of the delivery package.  I
guided the installers downstairs into the family room, quickly removed the
old TV and put it in a corner of the room (to be placed in our storage shed
later, I decided) and watched diligently while the installers hooked up the
new unit.  They moved surprisingly fast and were done with the actual
installation in about ten minutes.  One of them gave me a guided tour on
how to use the remote and all of the TV's features, bid me a good evening
and left in no time at all.  I started to go upstairs to excitedly tell
Beth just how cool the new TV was, but she shouted at me to stop before I
could even reach the top landing and told me to wait until she called for
me.  She promised that it wouldn't be much longer.  I prayed not, because
whatever she was cooking smelled fantastic.
   I begrudgingly went back downstairs to enjoy my new TV for about thirty
minutes until my daughter finally called out for me to come up and eat. 
Without a second's hesitation, I shut off the new TV and raced upstairs,
eager to see what wonderful meal she'd cooked and ready to quell the
rumbling in my stomach.  When I got to the top of the stairs, however, I
noticed that the kitchen lights were out except for a soft glow.  I thought
that Beth had turned them out and left the stove's dome light on so that I
could serve myself while she ate dinner in her room or something.  I was
slightly disappointed that she hadn't waited for me, but figured that she
might have still needed some more time to herself, which I completely
understood.  As I got closer to the kitchen's entrance, though, I came to a
dead halt with honest surprise.  The table was set with two lit candles, a
steaming pot of spaghetti, a separate smaller pot filled with meat sauce,
enough sliced French bread for two on a serving plate, a bottle of red wine
and, at the opposite end of it, stood my daughter, dressed in a simple,
form-fitting black dress that showed off her cleavage handsomely, her hair
done up in such a way that only a few of her ringlets dangled loose.  She
held up two glasses of wine, both already filled halfway, and said nothing.
Beth was a stunning sight to behold.
   I slowly approached her, took the glass of wine she offered to me and
said, "Wow," with as much feeling as I could muster without getting loud
and obnoxious about it.  "I mean, WOW, honey.  But look at me, I'm WAY
under-dressed." I still had on my blue jeans and a buttoned-down shirt.  It
was an acceptable enough ensemble for dinner in a casual restaurant, but
definitely not suitable for a romantic table setting.  "And look at you! 
Good Lord, Sweetheart, you look..."
   "Ravishing?" Beth prompted, a slight tone of hopefulness in her voice.
   I looked her up and down, noting the black heels on her feet and the
fact that she wasn't wearing any hose, the skin of her well-toned legs
shining in the candlelight.  "I was going to say beautiful, but 'ravishing'
works, too.  How did you do all of this so quickly?" I looked around the
kitchen skeptically.  Even the dishes had been put away.  "All right. 
Where are the elves that helped you?  C'mon, you little bastards, come on
out!"
   My daughter stifled a giggle and said, "It was all me, Dad.  While the
pasta and sauce were cooking I zipped off to my room to change clothes real
quick.  While the bread was baking, I took the opportunity to get out the
wine, wine glasses and candles.  It really wasn't that difficult.  Just a
matter of efficient use of time.  By the way, you look fine.  I just wanted
to get dressed up for you." She held up her glass of wine.  "So what'll we
toast to?"
   I looked at my own glass for a moment in deep thought.  What would be an
appropriate toast, I wondered.  Health?  Wealth?  Happiness?  Good deeds?
And then, inspiration struck.  No no no, not THAT kind of inspiration!  The
proper kind, about the toast.  I held up my glass and Beth followed suit, a
curious eyebrow perched above her left eye.  "To the stories of our lives,
those chapters yet to be opened and those closed behind us: may they be
forever joined with joy and peace."
   Beth's eyes sparkled brightly as my words sank in and she smiled
appreciatively.  "Well said, Dad.  To the story of our life."
   I almost corrected her on the plurality of my original toast but thought
better of it- I figured it was probably just a rephrasing on her part.  We
clinked our glasses together and each sipped lightly from them, our eyes
meeting with happiness.  When the cool liquid was past our gullets, I moved
to my customary place at the head of the table and set my wine glass down
while Beth moved to the place at my right.  She stood there, expectantly
unmoving and silent, until I got the hint and quickly moved behind her,
pulled out her chair for her and helped her get comfortable at the table.
   "Took you long enough," she muttered as I sheepishly took my seat at the
head of the table.
   "Sorry, Babygirl," I said.  "It's been awhile, y'know?" I surveyed the
meal before me with wonder again.  "You're really amazing, you know that?"
   My daughter blushed happily.  "Well, I figure that a war hero who's home
on Leave deserves more than just a simple meal at some restaurant.  And,
believe me, doing this was as much for me as it was for you.  I feels nice
to get pretty every once in awhile."
   "Sweetheart, you shot right past 'pretty' and nailed gorgeous with a
bulls-eye." My eyes were transfixed on my daughter and it was then that I
noticed that she wore the burgundy bra-and-panty set that we'd bought
earlier in the day.  I kept thoughtfully silent about that realization and
allowed myself to feel just a tiny bit flattered.  Nothing more was said
while we ate and savored Beth's wonderfully-cooked meal.  Everything about
it was absolutely perfect and I wouldn't have changed a thing.  It sure as
hell beat going out to eat.
   When we were done, Beth stood up, her wine glass still in hand, and
said, "I want to watch a movie on our new TV.  You game?"
   "You bet," I replied as I got up from my chair.  "But what about the
dishes?"
   "It'll keep," she said nonchalantly and then headed downstairs, clearly
expecting me to follow.  I didn't disappoint, either, and enjoyed the
guilty pleasure of watching my daughter's perfect ass move with a gentle
sway underneath her dress.  With each step that she took I also noticed
just how well-toned her legs were in those heels.  What can I say?  She IS
beautiful and I'd have to turn in my man card if I couldn't appreciate that
fact.  When we got downstairs, she kicked off her heels, dimmed the lights
some and curled up on the sofa facing the TV while holding the PlayStation3
remote.  I sat down next to her, placing my wine glass on the end table
closest to me, and stretched my arm across her shoulders in a warm half-hug
which she snuggled into, her head resting peacefully on my lap.  "I
downloaded a movie from the 'net," she told me and then cast an askance
glance up at me.  "Don't worry: it's a mainstream film.  Mostly.  Something
one of my girlfriends at school turned me on to.  I've only seen half of it
and, so far, it's really good."
   "Sounds wonderful," I said, not really caring what we watched as long as
we could cuddle like this for a few hours.  All sexual tensions aside, I
truly did like holding my daughter like that on the sofa.  It was one of
the few fatherly pleasures that I looked forward to while I was away
because it reminded me of times when she was a little girl, back when Lynn
was healthy and alive, and we all three used to cuddle up to watch movies
as a family.  In a sense, sitting on the sofa like that was a little like
having Lynn back with us, if only in spirit.
   I tapped the TV remote since it was closest to me and deftly switched it
to the video input channel while Beth turned on the PS3 with her remote. 
Within moments, the movie started and we watched in silent harmony.  Of
course, it was a romance flick, but it wasn't a bad one at all.  There were
a few moments of subtle humor, but it was mostly a drama.  The story was
about a younger woman who'd fallen for a widower who loved her back but
couldn't put aside his concerns about their differences in age and
experience.  In some ways it had the distinct flavor of "Lolita" without
being scandalous.  As the movie unfolded I couldn't help but draw some
parallels to the situation between Beth and myself.  I began to wonder,
idly, if my daughter's choice in movies was intentional or not.  She wasn't
in the habit of lying to me, so I took her claim that it was suggested by a
friend at face value and chalked it up to coincidence.  I'm sure, however,
that the irony wasn't lost on Beth, though.  In a scene where the two
protagonists finally make love, Beth snuggled up even tighter to me and let
out a soft murmur of contentment.  I tried my absolute best to not let the
fact that I was sporting a massive erection during the scene be known to my
daughter, lest things get potentially out of hand again, but the truth of
the matter was that, with her head in my lap, there was no way that she
COULDN'T notice it.  Both of us, I'm glad to say, managed to keep our ardor
at bay and just enjoyed the movie until its end.
   When the credits started rolling, Beth sat up and stretched her arms out
with a long, languid, cat-like yawn.  I didn't miss the fact that, as she
did so, her prominent breasts jutted out nicely and her cheeks looked a
little flushed.  I started to stand up and collect our wine glasses when
Beth grabbed me by the wrist, pulled me down to lean over her and planted a
very warm, wet kiss right on my lips.  I was frozen like a deer caught in
headlights as I felt my daughter's lips press against mine.  The kiss
wasn't lust-filled and there wasn't any tongue, but the warmth of her body
heat and the scent of her arousal was unmistakable.  She let me go after
what seemed like an eternity and, as our lips parted, she closed her eyes,
took a deep breath, put her fingertips thoughtfully to her lips and I
distinctly heard her let out a soft, "Mmmmm," while I stood up and watched
her carefully, not sure of what she might do next.
   When she opened her eyes again, she looked up at me and smiled lovingly.
"Thank you, Dad.  For everything.  I'm going to bed now.  I'll get the
dishes in the morning." And, with that, she lithely stood up, picked up the
heels she'd kicked off at the beginning of the movie, and made her way
tiredly upstairs to her bedroom.  I just stared at her dumbly as I watched
her go, my mind reeling and my body screaming for a status report from my
spinning brain.  And all my brain could muster up as a response was this
soft buzz, like static.
   I left the wine glasses where they were, took a leak and went to sleep
in my own bed, alone, with thoughts of my daughter confusedly dancing
through my head.  I was fast asleep within minutes.
   ----------------------------------------------
   The next day I woke up at a more reasonable hour, eight o'clock.  I was
satisfyingly rested and, as the cobwebs of sleep cleared away from my mind,
I began to play the previous day's events back through my head.  I was in
such a state of confusion, self-doubt and misgiving that I couldn't make
heads or tails of it.  The kiss that my daughter had given me just before
going to bed was a whopper.  I hadn't been kissed like that in ages and
there's really no way to describe it fully.  There were emotions behind it,
certainly, and subtexts of nuanced love that was a mixture of something
romantic and yet entirely familial.  Let me restate: I hadn't EVER been
kissed like that.  The last time I'd received a kiss even remotely like it
was from the woman I ended up marrying and having this incredible offspring
with.  If that was how my first real day of Leave went, I couldn't even
BEGIN to imagine what the next two weeks were going to be like.
   I rolled out of bed and, first thing's first, took a leak.  Once again,
still in my boxer-briefs, I went upstairs in search of caffeine.  When I
reached the top of the stairs this time, however, the aroma of coffee
greeted me like a siren song.  Bleary-eyed, I stumbled my way into the
kitchen, grunted a "g'morning" to Beth where she sat at the table with her
own cup of coffee while she read something on her cell phone.  I made a
beeline straight for the coffee pot.  I reached for the pot, reached for
the mug that had already been set out for me and was about to start pouring
when I froze in mid-motion.  I carefully put the pot back in its cradle,
the mug back on the countertop and slowly looked to the right at my
daughter, who was still sitting at the table, now facing me and wearing a
bemused smirk on her face.
   And that was it.
   No.  Seriously.  All she wore was a bemused smirk on her face.  Not a
stitch of clothing adorned her beautiful body.  She sat in the same
position that she had been in the morning before, one of her ankles perched
atop the opposing knee, which provided me with an unobstructed view of her
bald pussy.  I just blinked at her stupidly a few times, at a complete loss
for words.
   "What?" she said defensively.  "I'm eighteen.  Legally, I'm an adult. 
And you said I could wear, or not wear, what I wanted to around the house.
So...  ta-da.  Meet Naked Babygirl!  Good morning, Dad."
   "I...  I didn't actually think...  young lady, are you TRYING to kill
me?" Beth tilted her head back in laughter, her bounteous breasts bobbling
up and down, shaking with the commotion, at my expense.  All I could do was
stand there and stare at her nakedness with this dumbstruck look on my
face. Finally I found my voice again and said, "Will you PLEASE go put some
clothes on?  Please?"
   Beth's laughter petered out to mere giggles before she was able to say
anything, but she certainly didn't move from her seat.  Instead she took a
sip from her coffee mug and said, "Tell you what, Dad.  I'll get some
clothes on when YOU put that thing away." She pointed at my crotch and I
looked down, mortified but not particularly surprised, to see the head of
my cock peeking out of my underwear's waistband as if to say hello to the
world and my daughter in particular.  The one curse of having a large cock
is that Fruit of the Loom doesn't make underwear to accommodate a massive
erection.
   I looked back up at her and said flatly, "It's morning wood."
   "Sure it is.  We'll be rich.  Ladies and gentlemen, the first man in
history who is able to take a piss with a full-on chubby.  Step right up,
folks, and have a look-see!" She giggled some more.  "Dad, I heard the
toilet flush a minute ago and I know enough about basic male anatomy to
know that you can't urinate with an erection without contorting yourself
like a pretzel.  Be honest: you like what you see.  I'd feel insulted if
you didn't."
   I sighed heavily and turned my back to her, ready to resume my hunt for
coffee.  "Okay," I said.  "Yeah.  So what?  I see a beautiful naked girl in
my kitchen and my natural physiological response is to get a hard-on." I
paused long enough to see that there was sugar on the countertop next to
the coffee pot but no milk.  "Say...  where's the cream?"
   "Tug on that thing for a minute or two and you'll have all the cream
either of us can handle," Beth quipped.  I spun around quickly, fixed her
with a steely glare and emitted a low growl of impatience.  She held up her
hands defensively, still smiling.  "What're you gonna do, Dad?  Beat me
with it?  Creamer's in the fridge.  Geez."
   I stalked over to the refrigerator and yanked it open, snatching the
container of creamer from the in-door shelf, and shut it forcefully.  I
didn't say a word as I marched back to the countertop and continued to fix
my coffee.  That task complete, I calmly sat down at my customary seat,
gazed at my daughter, who was looking at her phone's screen intensely and
pointedly not at me, and said, "I'm going to have to get used to this,
aren't I?"
   "Yep," she answered without looking up.
   "And there's not much I can do about it, is there?"
   "Would you like me to move out?"
   "Not particularly, no."
   "Then, nope." She took another sip.  "Coffee's good this morning.  I
added a little something extra."
   "You're crazy.  You know that, don't you?"
   She shrugged lightly.  "Maybe a little bit, yeah." Then she glanced at
me while holding her thumb and forefinger closely together, the universal
sign for a small amount.  "A little bit." Then she went back to looking at
her phone.
   I closed my eyes and thought about the situation.  It was too early in
the morning to argue the matter and, frankly, I wasn't sure that I didn't
like the view.  Okay, I'll admit it: I'm a dirty old man.  And why
shouldn't I enjoy the view?  Old and dirty or not, I'm a man after all and
she's a beautiful woman, regardless of the fact that she's my daughter-
weren't men supposed to enjoy seeing beautiful women, especially in the
buff?  And it wasn't like she seemed bothered by it.  I decided to just let
it roll and accept the fact that my daughter would do pretty much whatever
she wanted.  I watched her while I sipped at my coffee quietly.  I'm sure
that she was aware of my staring, in the detached sort of way that all
women are, but she was so intensely focused on her cell phone that I doubt
a grenade would have disrupted her.  What the hell was she reading anyway?
   "Whatcha got there?" I asked, pointing to the cell phone.
   She looked up as though noticing me for the first time.  "Uhm, our
favorite website.  I've been busy the last few days, preparing for your
arrival here, and I haven't had much opportunity to catch up some of the
stories I've missed."
   I nodded understandingly.  "I did the same thing yesterday while you
were out.  Did you see the one about the girl who tries to get her parents
divorced yet?"
   A sour expression crossed my daughter's features and her nose crinkled
like she'd just smelled something horrible.  "Ugh," she replied.  "I've
seen some real stinkers on this site, but that one was just terrible.  I
know that they've got proofers who check for illegal content in the
stories, but would it be too much to ask if they'd just nix poorly-written
stories like that one, too?  How can someone inflict that kind of damage on
other people?  I mean, Dad, it hurt my eyes to read it!"
   "I know," I agreed.  "It didn't have a single redeeming quality, did it?
Bad grammar, terrible spelling, virtually no plot and the characters were
more like cardboard figurines.  Even the sex scene sucked and was over
almost before it began.  I actually went to the author's profile page- ALL
of his stories are like that and not a one of them has a voting score over
2.  So...  which one are you reading now?"
   Beth smiled and even blushed a little, which was a surprise seeing as
how she was naked in front of her father without a care in the world.  I
didn't miss the fact that the blush extended to the cleavage between her
breasts.  "It's a story about this girl who got kicked out of her mother's
house and comes to live with her father out of desperation.  I'm only on
the second page, but it's really a good read.  Whoever the author is,
they've really got a knack for this stuff.  It's romantic and funny and
smart.  I'm really enjoying it."
   I grinned knowingly.  I was very familiar with the story.  I rather
enjoyed it myself and had come to pretty much the same conclusion.  "Well,
I won't spoil it for you.  I will say this, though: I think you're gonna
love how it ends."
   Beth smiled.  "I'm looking forward to it," she said brightly and then
returned to her reading.
   I stood up, coffee mug in hand, and decided to leave her alone for the
time being.  Lord knows how annoyed I can get when people interrupt a good
story.  I was just about to leave the kitchen when I stopped and looked
back at my naked daughter while she immersed herself in the fictional world
of incest.  She looked so relaxed and comfortable that I almost envied her.
And, then, it dawned on me: Beth's nudity really was about her comfort.  It
wasn't part of some game she was playing in any direct sense (though I'm
sure that it dovetailed nicely into it).  She honestly had grown
comfortable with being in the nude around the house while I was away.
   "Your mother and I, before you were born," I said, surprising her with
the fact that I was still there, "used to go around our apartment naked all
the time.  I think I've forgotten how it felt.  It's liberating, isn't it?"
   Beth considered it for a moment and nodded.  "Yeah," she said, "it is. I
mean, if you can't be free inside your own home, what's the point, right?
You ought to try it for a day or two, see if you can remember how it
feels."
   I thought about it for a minute and, in light of recent events, decided
to give it a shot.  It wasn't like my daughter was going to see anything
she hadn't already seen.  And I was pretty sure, by the point, that it was
something she dearly wanted.  Without ceremony, I bent down and shoved my
boxer briefs to the floor, stepped out of them and stood back up.  My cock
sprang out into the morning air, almost pointing directly at my daughter
with a small drop of precum forming at the tip, and I left it alone, not
bothering to cover myself up.  "Satisfied?" I asked her.
   Beth looked me up and down appraisingly before she answered.  I saw her
eyebrow pitch upward when she noticed the drop of pre-cum and then there
was the faint wisp of a smile that curled at the corners of her lips. 
Finally, she said, "Definitely.  But it really isn't about my satisfaction.
The real question is, Dad, are YOU satisfied?"
   I looked down at raging hard on and then back up at my daughter.  "I
guess we'll know soon enough," I replied, surprised by her answer.  I held
up my cup of coffee as a sort of salute even though my cock was saluting
her well enough already.  "I'll be downstairs if you need me." Beth
shrugged, nodded, took one last smiling glance at her father's engorged
penis and went back to her reading.
   -----------------------------------
   I went downstairs and watched TV for a few hours.  During that time Beth
and I didn't see each other.  I heard her putter around upstairs in her
bedroom, the kitchen and the shower, but she never came down to watch TV
with me.  I couldn't blame her- nothing of any real interest was on, having
determined this by flipping through every channel we had and finding only a
few things that caught my eye for a few minutes at a time.  By the time I'd
gotten bored with the idiot box, I'd almost completely forgotten that I
didn't have any clothes on.  The only real reminder was when I'd gotten up
to take a leak during a commercial break and, standing in front of the
commode, I realized that there was no underwear waistband for me to fiddle
with.  It felt nice, actually, to not have to worry about such mundane
things.  Our house was situated in such a way that no one would ever be
able to look into the windows without us knowing about it and hardly anyone
ever came onto our property anyway.  Neighbors on each side were far enough
away that they wouldn't hear us even if we shouted at the tops of our
lungs. We were alone, in the safety of our home, with no one to impose
their will or morality on us.  No Army looking over my shoulder.  No cops
waving their badges at us.  No bible-thumpers wagging their shameful
fingers at us.  Alone and free to be.  I really had forgotten how
liberating it is to just go au naturale in your own house.  And to think:
it'd taken my own daughter to remind me of it.
   Once I got tired of watching TV, I drifted into my bedroom and sat down
at my computer.  Almost as though on autopilot, I immediately opened up a
web browser window and started to surf to my favorite porn-tube website.  I
watched a few lack-luster video clips that got a mild response from my
libido before I found one that really caught my attention.  I got about
halfway into it before I heard my daughter's footsteps coming down the
stairs.  I paused the video clip and minimized the browser window before
she got to my bedroom doorway.  When I looked up, she stood there with a
plate of food (a simple sandwich and some chips) and was still as naked as
I'd left her hours before.  It was strange to see her that way, standing
before me with nothing on.  I knew that she'd shaved her pussy, but seeing
her there on full and unashamed display, I was able to see just how tiny
she really is.  With the exception of her rather large breasts, her entire
body was proportionately diminutive, but perfectly so.  Her small hands,
her small feet, her legs short, her pussy looking especially small and her
hips trim with just barely enough curve to be called hips.  She was just so
small.  It was like I was seeing her for the first time and it surprised me
in some weird way.  Her friends gave her the nickname "Little Bit" and,
looking at her now, it was perfectly apt.
   "Hungry?" she asked, not at all perturbed at the way I openly stared at
her nudity.  She held out the plate to me.
   I took the plate of food and set it down on my desk.  "Thanks,
Sweetheart.  I appreciate it."
   "So...  whatcha doin'?" she asked as she clasped her hands behind her
back, a move which caused her wondrous tits to capture my attention nicely.
   I glanced at my computer and then back at her.  "Uhm...  just checking
my email and stuff," I answered flatly, knowing that it sounded like the
lame lie that it was.
   "Uh-huh," she leaned against my door frame and folded her arms
expectantly.  "Y'know, Dad, I've already admitted to looking through your
computer.  I know what kind of websites you go to and I've seen your video
collection- all of it.  Don't you get it that you don't have to hide
anything from me?  I'm a grown girl.  I completely get it that you look at
porn, okay?  Everybody does.  Hell, you'd be amazed at how similar our
tastes actually are.  I'm not going to be shocked and I don't want to make
you feel uncomfortable, I'm just curious." She entered my room, stood
behind me and leaned down on the headrest of my office chair, which gave
her a perfect, bird's-eye view of my hard-on.  "So what'd you find?"
   I craned my neck to look up at her and, in doing so, just barely nudged
the bottoms of her breasts with the back of my head.  "Are you SURE you
really want to know?"
   Beth rolled her eyes upwards and sighed in exasperation.  "Creampies or
incest?" she asked.
   Busted.  I shrugged as though to say "You asked for it" and reopened my
web browser.  I restarted the video clip I'd been watching and put it back
at the beginning.  On the screen a young blonde woman was laying on the
floor with the lower half of her body tilted upwards so that her knees were
next to her head and her pussy was up in the air.  She pulled her pussy
lips wide apart, two fingers on each side, and stretched herself open for
the camera- we could see all the way down inside of her pussy to her
cervix. A moment later, a very large, black cock came into the frame and
its owner began to masturbate over her gaped opening.  Within seconds he
grunted and came, ejecting his seed right down into the young woman's
wide-open cunt.  It wasn't a perfect hit on his target, with some droplets
coming to rest around her mons and labia, but a sizeable portion of it went
right into her.  A few seconds later another black cock was introduced and
it did the same, exact thing, this time getting all of the cum inside the
young girl but not as much as the first.  "I want a black baby!" the young
girl enthused while she kept herself stretched open.  The third and final
male contributor was a significantly larger, thicker specimen, far too
large to fit comfortably in the small pussy below it, and it emitted a
rather copious amount of sperm, all of which went directly into the gaping
entrance to the young girl's wide-open pussy.  I paused the video clip just
as the girl asked, "Do you think that'll make it triplets?"
   I looked at my daughter, whose cheeks were flushed with excitement and I
could smell the unmistakable aroma of arousal.  "Well?  What'd you think?"
I asked.
   Beth took a step back and I watched as she swiped her hand through her
wet pussy.  She held her fingertips up for me to see them glistening with
her juices.  "Does that answer your question?  I mean, holy shit, Dad, that
was fucking incredible!  But!  I think I've got something better than that.
Mind if I drive for a minute?"
   I stood up, no longer caring about the fact that I was hard as a rock- I
might as well get used to it- and presented the office chair for her to sit
in.  "By all means," I said.
   Beth glided into my chair, took control of the computer and, moments
later, had brought up a website that was devoted exclusively to creampies.
She scrolled down the page through countless thumbnails of video clips and
then clicked on one in particular.  The video clip opened up and we watched
as a very thick, very long cock was sliding a few inches of meat in and out
of a young woman's pussy.  The male instrument seemed impossibly large and
I began to suspect that it wasn't a real, flesh-and-blood penis after a few
seconds.  The cock's owner grunted repeatedly and the girl cried out in
happiness, imploring him to fill her with cum, which I realized he was
doing right then.  Finally, after several seconds of this, the overly
large, baseball-bat-like cock was withdrawn and an unreal amount of cum
poured out of the girl's small pussy.  And when I say that it was an unreal
amount of cum, I mean that it must have been at least half a cup's worth.
At that point I knew it was fake.
   "You like this?" I asked my daughter skeptically.
   "It's my favorite clip.  Isn't it hot?" she gushed.  "I mean, look at
it! All that cum!  That's, like, enough to impregnate the entire city of
New York!"
   "Honey," I said carefully, "you do realize that it's fake, don't you?"
   Beth blinked at me incredulously, like I'd just told her that the Pope
wasn't really Catholic.  "What?  Really?"
   I reached down over her, grabbed the mouse and scrolled the video back a
bit.  "Look at the base of it.  We never see the guy's balls, not even his
stomach.  Nothing but so-called cock.  And all he has inside of her is the
head.  He's not even really fucking her with it- the shaft isn't moving at
all."
   "Maybe it's just really, really long and the shaft is pulled tight?" she
suggested lamely.
   I shook my head.  "Sweetheart, even if it was real, a cock THAT large
couldn't sustain an erection without giving its owner a heart attack." To
fully illustrate my point, I grabbed hold of my own cock for her to watch
as I stroked it once or twice, which made my shaft move with the motion of
my hand.  "A hard-on's rigidity is dependent on the cardio-vascular system.
Basic anatomy, Babygirl.  It's fake.  It's a very realistic paint job on a
hollowed-out dildo that has a tube running through it.  The other end of
the tube is a reservoir filled with liquid that closely resembles sperm and
a plunger.  Someone off-camera depresses the plunger and, voila, out shoots
a gallon of fake cum, through a fake cock.  Look at this," I wagged my cock
at her meaningfully and then nodded at the screen, "Now, look at that. 
They don't even look the same."
   "Oh." Beth brooded gloomily at that.  I'd shattered her fantasy and now
it wasn't exciting anymore, like revealing how a magic trick is done.  I
suppose that she rather liked the idea that somewhere, out there, was a
cock which was capable of producing such a massive quantity of seed and
that some lucky girl was getting it.  Lord only knows WHY she had that
fantasy, with her still being a virgin, but there you have it.
   I didn't like seeing my daughter unhappy, though, so I added, "Sometimes
sex is all about the fantasy, Sweetheart.  The what-if.  What IF a guy
could cum that much?  What IF some woman could get so completely filled
with cum that it pours out of her like a dam breaking open?  It's not real,
but it's meant to make you suspend your disbelief and THINK that it's real.
That's why they don't show that it's fake- they want you to believe it,
even if it's for just as long as it takes for you to get off." I reached
down to take control of the mouse and keyboard again, reaching over her. 
My elbows brushed up against the sides of her breasts a few times and the
skin-on-skin contact sent electric jolts up my spine, but I maintained
control and quickly brought up another clip.
   In this clip a small-boobed, thin blonde girl sat naked on a couch and
was inserting a clear plastic speculum into her pussy.  The camera watched
as she used the device to spread herself wide open and, when the camera's
light shined at a particular angle, we were greeted with a quick glimpse of
her cervix.  "This," she told her audience, "is where I want all the cum."
She then maneuvered herself so that her shoulders were on the floor and her
feet were propped up on the sofa cushions so that her gaped pussy was
pointed skyward.  A few seconds later a very large, very thick cock came
into view.  The dimensions of this beastly member were strikingly similar
to the one in Beth's favorite video.  We saw a male hand stroking the shaft
of the immensely large penis (the shaft and skin close to the head didn't
move, just like the other fake) for a few seconds until he let out a loud
grunt and the massive cock began to literally hose down the girl's pussy
with "cum." Jet after jet, all of them too long and powerful for a human to
accomplish naturally, was shot straight into the young woman's upturned,
speculum-gaped pussy until it was literally overflowing with the stuff. 
The faux ejaculation ended and the camera moved so that it had a top-down
view of the young woman's cum-filled hole.  And "cum-filled" is no
exaggeration- her entire chasm was filled to the brim with cum-like liquid
and it sloshed around a bit when she put pressure on her tummy.
   "Oh my God," Beth breathed and I watched her visibly shudder.  "Oh my
fucking God!  That is SO COOL!"
   The girl on the screen withdrew the speculum and we watched her pussy
lips close back up, sealing off all of that liquid from view.  As she did,
Beth let out a short, "Eep!" and jumped up like she'd been hit with a
cattle prod.  She continued to watch the screen as the girl quickly got to
her own feet while a friend slid under her, her hand clamped down tightly
over her pussy lips.  She squatted down over her friend's open, waiting
mouth and released all of the cum inside of her in a massive gush that all
but coated her friend's nose, mouth and chin.  "Oh!" Beth gasped and took a
startled step back.  When the chair bumped into me and wouldn't go back any
further, she spun around and her eyes immediately zeroed in on my throbbing
cock.  She stared at it for all of two seconds and then looked up at me. 
"I gotta go," she blurted and then literally sprinted out of my room
without another word.
   I didn't need a road map to figure out where she'd gone.  I heard her
bedroom door practically slam shut and, after that, a lot of soft moaning.
   It was intensely erotic for me, knowing that I had been instrumental in
driving my own daughter to orgasm without even laying a hand on her one
more time, but it was also pretty damned funny.  I couldn't help but
chuckle to myself in amusement.  Yes, my own carnal needs were being
ignored at the moment, but I couldn't bring myself to jack off just then
because I was so damn amused by Beth's reaction to that video.  You know
how a pinball machine will go crazy and seem like it's having a seizure if
you bump it too hard while playing?  That's what Beth's reaction was like,
the human version of TILT!  I looked down at the office chair, an
all-leather number that I had bought a year before, and saw that it was wet
with her juices.  Shaking my head, I went into my bathroom, got a towel and
wiped off my chair.  Did I take note of what her juices smelled like?  You
bet your ass I did.  At this point I don't even mind admitting that, yes, I
tasted it.  Sweet and tangy at the same time.  Nice.  Tilt.
   --------------------------------------
   I didn't see my daughter again for a few hours until it was well after
dark, almost seven o'clock.  I'd quit looking for porn by that point and
was doing some honest web surfing when I heard my daughter's footsteps once
again coming down the stairs.  "Dad?" she called from the stairwell.
   "Yes, Sweetheart?"
   "I've got something I want you to see, but I want you to close your eyes
first, okay?"
   "Something like what I saw at the lingerie store?" I asked mildly,
almost hopefully.
   "Almost, but not quite.  I wanna show you my Halloween costume."
   Ah, the infamous, mysterious, undisclosed Halloween costume!  I was
curious to know what she'd chosen to wear at this party and was only too
happy to close my eyes.  "All right, honey.  Eyes closed.  Come on in."
   I heard her come down the few remaining steps and approach my doorway.
It sounded like she stopped for a moment, probably surprised at the fact
that I was still naked and possibly disappointed that I wasn't sporting an
erection, and then made her way further into the room.  I could tell by her
footfalls that she was now standing behind me, but I didn't swivel in my
chair to follow the noise and just waited patiently.  After a few seconds,
she said, "Okay, Dad.  Turn around and open your eyes."
   I slowly turned around in my chair and, when I opened my eyes, my jaw
just about hit the floor.  Beth, standing at the foot of my bed, was
dressed like Alice from the Disney version of Alice In Wonderland, except
that she wasn't.  She was dressed more like an extremely naughty version of
Alice.  The short sleeves were powder blue and way too short; the bottom of
the dress, which was the same shade of blue, was equally too short and
stopped a few inches below her crotch; the white bodice underneath seemed
to be extremely tight and pushed her breasts high and close together,
creating some spectacular cleavage the likes of which I'd never seen; the
tiny little white apron looked like it would neither protect nor hide
anything from view if the skirt underneath wasn't there; the thigh-high
white stockings had little blue ribbons at the tops and ended just below
the skirt; underneath the blue skirt was a bunch of fluffy white, frilly
lace which made the skirt seem to sort of float away from my daughter's
strong thighs; and the tiny black shoes, stiletto pumps, forced my
daughter's well-toned calves to tense up as she stood in front of me. 
Everything had a subtle white fringe around it, to complete the classic
look while doing nothing to make it seem any more tasteful.  It was Alice
as imagined by Larry Flynt- seductive and cute all at the same time.  The
outfit looked like it was made with her in mind.
   "Wow," was all I could say as I took it all in, my mind reeling at the
vision in front of me.  I could already start to feel the swelling in my
cock as my eyes feasted on this sight.
   "You like it?" she needlessly asked.  "It's kinda funny, actually.  I
wanted to go as Alice, right?  And this wasn't exactly the look that I was
expecting to go with.  But I'm, like, really short, as you know, so it was
like pulling teeth to find an outfit that would actually fit me.  The ones
they had for adults were too big and the ones they had for kids, even the
biggest ones, were still way smaller than this.  So I was stumped, right?
But I ran across this one store that specializes in kinky outfits, like
sexy role playing stuff.  I couldn't go into there before because I was too
young but, now that I'm eighteen, it's no big deal.  So I called them up
and had them reserve one for me until yesterday.  Only thirty bucks, just
like I promised.  Yeah, it's a little slutty-looking, but it's honestly the
only thing that'll fit me in the entire goddamn town." I just sat there and
stared at my daughter.  She looked incredible!  Hot and demure and innocent
and sexy and...  fucking tempting!  All I could think of was what it would
be like to- well, you might well imagine what I was thinking.  Beth's eyes
drifted to my crotch and widened as she gasped, "Whoa!"
   While I hadn't been erect when she walked into the room, the moment I
laid eyes on her new Halloween outfit, my cock had started to grow.  She
actually got to see it go from a harmless four inches to its full nine in a
matter of seconds.  I tried my best to ignore myself and kept my attention
on Beth.  "Honey, that's...  that's just....  wow."
   "You said that before, Dad.  But that's okay, you're clearly giving me a
thumbs up.  Kinda.  More like a lead pipe's up..." she trailed off as she
continued to stare at my engorged member.  "Jesus, Dad, I- I think it's
getting bigger!  You must REALLY like it." I couldn't find my voice to say
anything and just nodded at her.  "Oh!  And here's the best part of it!"
She turned around, bent over, placed her hands flat on my bed's mattress
and craned her neck so that she could look at me from around her shoulders.
The back side of her tiny dress lifted up to show off her perfect rear end.
"Easy access!" she explained.  Beth wasn't wearing any panties.  Not even a
thong.  Her pussy, framed by the white ruffles of her underskirt above and
her creamy thighs below, was clearly wet and her vulva puffy with want and
desire.  As if to punctuate the point, she spread her thighs slightly,
which gave me an even better view of her pussy.  My eyes zeroed in on her
sex and I didn't miss the fact that she was wet with excitement.
   That was it.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I'd reached my limit.  My
heart was pounding, my balls were aching and my core temperature had jumped
three whole degrees in less than ten seconds.  I stood up, grabbed my cock
with one hand and wagged it at her angrily.  "Enough!  I've had it!  Is
this what you want, Beth?  You've been driving me insane for the last 24
hours!  I can't hold it in any longer!  Either get out and let me jack off
in peace or, goddamn it, come get what you've been eyeing for the last two
days and get ready for the fucking of your life!  I don't care which, but I
can't fucking wait anymore!" The rage and frustration in my voice surprised
me but my daughter hardly even flinched as she turned back around to face
me.
   Beth tilted her head back heavenward and said, "Finally!" Then she fixed
me with a hot, heady gaze as she closed the distance between us.  When she
stood in front of me, she pulled me down by my cheeks (causing me to sit
back down in the chair so that she could reach me) and planted a wet,
tongue-filled kiss on my lips, which I all-too-happily returned, my own
tongue dancing with hers while her hands gripped the back of my neck and
mine immediately went to her soft, nylon-covered thighs and began to travel
upwards to the soft skin of her ass.  The kiss seemed to last an eternity
and was filled with passion, lust and urgent promise.  My right hand left
her backside while we continued our kiss and found its way to her soaked
pussy lips, parting them as my middle finger deftly slipped inside her
incredibly tight, wet pussy.  As I wiggled my finger and tapped her g-spot,
she whined uncontrollably into my mouth and rolled her hips.  Finally our
lips parted and she took a step back, dislodging my finger from her
entrance.  Her shoes went flying to either side of the room as she kicked
them off and looked at me with unbridled lust.  "How do you want me?" she
asked hastily.
   "Turn around," I told her.  She did so without hesitation and I flipped
up her skirt to get a better look at her ass cheeks.  Without even being
told to do so, Beth bent at the waist.  I wasted no time in getting my
hands on those wonderful globes of flesh and began to knead her soft skin
roughly and planted a delicate kiss on each cheek.  Now, if she ever tells
me to kiss her ass, I can tell her that I already have.  I took a long,
deep breath and inhaled her scent, relished the warmth that radiated from
her pussy mere inches from my face.  I then leaned back, reached down with
one hand and started to stroke my tumescent cock.  "Is this what you want,
Babygirl?  You want Daddy's cock to fill you up?  Is this what you've been
after?"
   "Yesssss," my daughter hissed as her own hands began to rub at her
encased breasts.  "You have no idea how long I've wanted this, Dad.  I want
my father's cock inside me!  I want you to take my virginity!"
   With one hand still on her ass and the other aiming my cock head at her
wet, pungent entrance, which was just inches away, I looked up at her even
though her back was to me.  "What you want is against the law," I told her.
   My daughter hissed out a sigh and said, "Fuck the law."
   "I'm a soldier and I'm sworn to defend and protect the law."
   "Fuck you."
   "You're my daughter and I don't want to hurt you."
   "Oh, fffffffffuck ME!" she cried out and pushed her ass backwards in an
effort to find my throbbing member.  Her pussy lips bumped right into it.
   "Okay, Babygirl.  Don't mind if I do," I said as I directed her hips
with the one hand that was still gripping her ass.  I angled my cock with
my other hand just the tiniest bit and watched as the head of it all but
snapped into the groove of her sodden cunt.  With slow, deliberate care, I
gently pulled her hips down with both hands now and marveled at the sight
of my cock slowly being swallowed up by my daughter's pussy.  I was
grateful, then, that she'd broken her hymen back when she was a cheerleader
in junior high- a cock the size of mine would be torture on a cherry pussy.
The insertion, though, was by no means easy.  Beth's channel was the
tightest I'd ever experienced.  I expected, however, that my size and girth
would stretch her out in no time, just like it did with her mother.
   "Ooooooooh!" Beth crooned as I began to invade her.  "Fuck yes!" I
lifted her hips up and down gently, slowly working more and more of my cock
into her small, tight opening until, a moment later, I stopped.  "Jesus
Christ, I'm so full!" She moaned and then looked at me in frustration from
over her shoulder.  "Why'd you stop?" she demanded.
   I lovingly caressed her back and said, "Babygirl, I can feel your cervix
brushing up against the tip of my cock.  If I push any further inside I
might hurt you."
   Beth narrowed her eyes at me almost in belligerence.  "How much is there
left for me to take?" she asked incredulously.
   I glanced down to get a good judgment and then looked back up at her. 
"Honey, you said it yourself: you're really small."
   "How much?" she repeated more assertively.
   "About three inches," I answered.
   Then she said the words that almost made me cum on the spot.  "I want it
all," she said plainly.  "I want ALL of you inside me, Dad.  How did you do
it with Mom?"
   "You really want all of it?  It might be uncomfortable at first."
   "We've gone this far, haven't we?" she asked rhetorically.  "In for a
penny, in for a pound.  And I wanna get pounded."
   I didn't push her off of me or make any kind of move just yet.  There
was something I wanted to clear up first.  "Honey...  why did you change
your mind?  Not that I'm complaining, but I'd just like to know.  Why now?
Why me?  Why not Carl?"
   Beth, however, wasn't in the mood to stop just yet.  She began to slowly
ride up and down on my cock, posting on it as much as she could before I
bottomed out at the entrance to her womb and jerking her hips back up
reflexively.  "Oh, yes!  Hooo, Dad, you ARE big!  Now...  what were you
saying?  Oh yeah.  Forget Carl!  I never intended to go out with him
tonight, Dad.  I made that up as a pretext to get dressed up like this for
YOU."
   "But why, Babygirl?  You could have any guy you wanted," I said as my
hands cradled her pumping hips, my gaze returning to the place where we
were joined.  With each out-stroke I watched her inner lips cling tightly
to my shaft and it was a thrill to see, but I kept my head about me and
focused on what I was saying.  "I mean that, Sweetheart.  Any guy in the
world would probably kill to be inside you like I am right now.  God, this
is amazing.  But why me?  Why pick your own father to take your virginity
like this?" God-but-DAMN she was tight!  It took real effort to coherently
form those words while my daughter's tight cunt rippled up and down my
shaft as I spoke to her.
   Beth stopped fucking me for a moment to turn her head and torso so that
she could look at me more directly.  "Because you deserve it," she said. 
"You deserve to be loved."
   I looked at her skeptically.  "I thought I already had your love. 
Fucking me won't change that, honey.  Is this a pity-fuck?"
   My daughter rolled her eyes, huffed in exasperation and pulled herself
free of my cock so that she could face me fully, almost angrily.  "No, you
asshole!  Look, you will ALWAYS have my love, as your daughter.  But I'm
not blind, okay?  I see how much you miss Mom and I know you haven't dated
since she died," then she brought a hand to her forehead and shook it in
disbelief.  "This is almost RIGHT out of one of those fucking stories! 
'Mom dies, girl takes over, the end.' Jesus.  All right.  You do so much
for me and so little for yourself, Dad.  You've got MY love, but you need
the love of a woman.  You NEED to get laid.  It's, like, written all over
you and the way I tortured you recently probably didn't help matters any.
And why NOT you, huh?  Would you rather I go give my virginity to some guy
who may or may not really appreciate it?  And what about STD's?  YOU have
been with only one woman in twenty years and I haven't been with ANYBODY-
no chance in hell of me getting sick, ever.  YOU got me on birth control,
so that shouldn't be an issue for you.  And I LOVE you!  I've been in love
with you since, like, forever and, after reading your stories, I finally
understood just about every facet of who you really are, the pieces of you
that I've never seen, and I love that, too.
   "Pity-fuck?  Dad, if you ever say something like that again, all bets
are off.  I'm fucking you because I WANT to.  I want YOU to.  After seeing
those videos today and realizing how I reacted to them, I couldn't run away
from that anymore.  You're my father and I will always love you, but you're
also a man and I'm a woman and, right now, we both need each other.  You've
always told me that there was nothing you wouldn't do for me.  Well, it
goes both ways, Dad.  There's nothing I won't do for YOU.  After today you
can fuck me or not fuck me, but I'm hoping that you will." With that, she
leaned down and kissed me hard again.  Our lips locked pleasantly for a few
moments until we both needed to breathe and she continued her speech.
   "I WANT you to fuck me the minute I get back from school.  I WANT you to
fuck me when we wake up in the morning.  I want you to fuck me in the
kitchen, in the bathroom, on the sofa, on your bed, on MY bed, in every
room in the house.  I want you to fuck me every time you feel the urge and
I want to feel you cumming inside of me every time you do.  NOW...  all I
want to know is how you intend to get THAT," she pointed at my
pussy-slicked cock, "spewing as deeply as possible into THIS," and then
pointed at her hairless pussy mound.  "Got any suggestions?"
   I didn't miss a beat, all of my questions now sufficiently answered to
satisfaction and then some, and said, "Bed.  Hands and knees.  Now." Beth
hopped to and, in three seconds flat, she was on my bed, ass high up in the
air and knees pressing firmly into the mattress, her tiny stockinged feet
dangling over the edge of it.  I walked up behind her, thankful that I was
already nude and didn't need to waste time in getting more undressed, and
stroked my cock as I surveyed the situation.  As I flipped the skirt off
her ass and placed just the head of my cock within her moist folds, I said,
"I'm going to push myself inside you as deep as I can safely go.  When I
do, I want you to arch your back just a little bit, okay?" Beth nodded
wordlessly and I began to slowly push more of my meat inside her hot, tight
pussy.  The deeper I went into her small body, the more she arched her back
until I felt the tip of my cock nudge up against the entrance to her womb.
I could feel the spongy slickness of my daughter's cervix with the very tip
of my cock and took a moment to appreciate that.  Looking down, I grabbed
the lower portion of my shaft that was still dry between my thumb and
forefinger- about three inches.  "Now," I said soothingly, "I want you to
make the ohm sound.  You know what I mean?"
   "Nnnnn, yeah," she said as she craned her neck to look at me.  "Fuck,
Dad, you're so deep inside of me already.  I can feel the pressure, you're
in so deep.  Can we just enjoy this for a minute or two, please?  Just...
fuck me like this for a minute."
   I smiled warmly at her and said, "Anything you want, Babygirl." I rocked
my hips back and forth slowly, relishing the sensations of my daughter's
vice-like cunt on my penis for several strokes, both of us groaning with
pleasure and delight.  She was right, of course.  I desperately needed to
get laid, no question about that at all.  I just never imagined that, of
all the women I could end my three-year-long dry spell with, it would be my
own offspring.  I could feel the slight tingling in my balls, telling me
that I wouldn't last much longer.  When I realized this, I said, "Beth,
baby, I'm getting close.  Between this and all the teasing for the last
day, I'm going to cum soon, whether I want to or not."
   Beth let out a little mewl of excitement and frustration.  "Okay," she
said and then began to make the ohm noise, the sound coming from deep
within her diaphragm.
   "Oooooooohhhhhhmmmmm...."
   I steadily pushed my cock deep into her tiny frame once more and felt
the entrance to her cervix begin to flutter open and closed, as though it
was breathing.  I could just barely feel it and make sense of the timing
involved.  I waited a heartbeat or two and then pushed into her with all of
my might, hoping like hell that I'd gotten the timing and angle right. 
Beth immediately gasped at the sudden intrusion and her voice caught in her
throat, but I was certain that I'd done it right when the head of my cock
slipped far enough past the mouth of her cervix that I'd still be able to
fuck her, if only with short strokes, but I couldn't completely pull it
out. For all intents and purposes, I was now stuck inside my daughter's
uterus.
   "OH MY GOD!" Beth cried out with surprise once she got her breath back.
"OH, FUCKING HELL!  DAD!  HOLY SHIT!  YOU'RE IN MY-!!!" I bent over her
back, reached for her right hand and guided it to her tummy where I laid
her palm flat.  Then I concentrated a little bit and flexed my PC muscles,
which caused my cock to jerk slightly within the tight confines of her
womb. It was impossible for her to miss the feeling of my cock head press
against the palm of her hand every time I flexed, even through the fabric
of her costume and from so deep inside her body.  "Oh my Jesus!  So deep,"
she gasped.  "You're all the way in!  Ha!" She wiggled her ass cheeks,
which were now completely pressed against my groin, and reveled in the
feeling of my cock wobbling from side to side with her movements.  "Oooh!
Yesssss!" she hissed with naked pleasure
   "That's me, Babygirl.  I'm all the way inside your womb.  Are you happy
now?" I asked her throatily.  "Do you like the way Daddy's cock feels
inside you?"
   "Oh, that sounds so nasty when you say it like that!  Fuck, yes, I like
it!" Beth gasped.  "I thought I was full a minute ago, but Jesus, Dad, it's
like I'm a corn dog and you're the stick!  I NEVER thought I'd be this full
of ANY cock, let alone my father's!"
   I started to slowly push back and forth into my daughter, using just
those two or three inches to move myself so deeply inside her.  "This feels
incredible, honey," I told her breathlessly, basking in the way her cervix
gripped the tip of my shaft like a constrictor.  "You're so fucking tight!"
   Beth laughed a little at that, which caused her uterus to flutter
pleasantly around the head of my cock, and said, "Is it that I'm so small
or that you're so big, Dad?  I can hardly wait until you cum.  I can't wait
to feel my father shooting all that cum so deep inside me.  Ooooh, yes,
that feels so good, the way you're fucking me right now.  It's like I'm
being fucked twice- through my main entrance and through my cervix, too. 
It's such a weird feeling, but it's so good!  I'm close to cumming, Dad.  I
want you to cum with me!  I wanna feel your sperm splashing my insides as I
cum, too!"
   It was taking every ounce of self control to not explode inside her and
my control was beginning to wane with every one of her wickedly erotic
comments.  "Honey," I gasped.  "Honey, I'm so close.  I'm almost there."
   Beth stopped moving and then leaned her torso down so that I could get a
better angle of attack.  "Do it, Daddy," she said quietly in a small voice.
"Fuck me.  Cum inside your little girl's womb."
   I lifted one leg up onto the mattress so that I could really fuck my
daughter's pussy in earnest and began to punish her cunt with hard, short
strokes.  I could feel the mouth of her cervix clamp down on my shaft so
tightly that the crown of my cock wouldn't completely come out, like a
barbed hook.  I was locked deep inside my baby girl's pussy at that point
and the only way to extract myself would BE for me to cum inside her, to
shoot my seed into her very depths, so that my cock would eventually
deflate and get pliable enough to be withdrawn from her body.  Each time
the bottom of my cock head nudged against the inner side of her cervical
mouth it was like jolts of electricity fired through my body.  I hammered
her hard, my groin slapping loudly into her ass cheeks with each thrust,
until I could hold out no longer.  I pulled back just enough so that my
cockhead was lodged at the opening of her uterus, so that she could feel me
blasting her core with my sperm, gripped her hips tightly in my hands and
clenched my teeth as my balls began to heave a massive amount of cum
through my shaft.
   "I'm cumming, Beth!  Daddy's cumming inside you!  AH!  Oh, fuck!  FUCK!
Ah, yes!" shouted as my cock began to spew the contents of my balls inside
of her.  I could feel the tip of my penis expand to its absolute max as one
volley of my sperm after another was sent splashing against the back wall
of my daughter's uterus, making my cock jerk like a canon with each
ejaculation.
   Beth stiffened when I started to erupt so deeply inside her and her
hands bunched the sheets up in her tightly-clenched fists as she screamed
out, "Yes, Dad!  Yes!  I can feel it!  Ooooooh, fuck ME, it's so hot
inside! Cum for me, Dad, CUM!  Give me all of it, all your seed!" She began
to moan and gasp for several seconds with each of my blasts into her.  "Oh,
my GOD, you're still cumming!  FUCKING HELL!"
   My body spasmed repeatedly as my throbbing, pulsing shaft kept pumping
into her.  I couldn't stop it.  All of the teasing, all of the close calls,
all of the innuendo and games were catching up to me and every ounce of two
day's worth of sexual frustration were being literally poured into my
daughter's womb with each thick, viscous slug of cum that shot into her.  I
lost count of how many times I bucked, but the orgasm had to have lasted
for a full minute at least.  A full minute of constant pulsing and pushing
cum as deep inside her as I could, filling the center of her with the same
seed that made her.  My daughter and I were like a single unit, joined in
such a way that was far beyond animal lust or human love.  It was beyond
spiritual.  I was simply a part of her in that moment, filling her with the
essence of me.  My breath stopped, my mind exploded and I was inside my
baby girl in a whole new way.  For eighteen years it was merely my blood
that coursed through her veins; now millions of my sperm was swimming
inside her womb, looking for an egg.  Not only had I fucked my daughter,
but I had marked the deepest part of her with my seed.
   Finally, the spasms abated and the hosing of my daughter's uterus ended.
My cock was still engorged, however, so I couldn't quite pull out just yet.
After we both managed to catch our breaths I had to explain that to Beth
when she asked why I wasn't moving.  "Oh, fuck, that is so hot," she
hissed. "You mean to tell me that my father's cock is, right now, plugging
up my cervix, giving your sperm nowhere to go, right?"
   I winced as my penis involuntarily throbbed at the way she described it.
"You're not helping matters any, honey."
   "Ooo!  I felt that!  I just think it's so cool that you're actually
STUCK inside of me.  I can feel it, too, y'know?" She twisted her neck just
enough so that she could look at me while I gently and lovingly kneaded her
ass cheeks and waited for my cock to soften.  "So...  that's how you and
Mom did it, huh?  That's how you made me?"
   I nodded solemnly.  "More or less, yes.  What we just did is how you
were conceived.  We couldn't do it any other way.  My cock kept glancing
above or below Lynn's cervix and my cum just sort of pooled there
uselessly. It wasn't until we figured out how to get the head past it that
we were able to create you."
   Beth snaked a hand down to her tummy.  There was still a slight bulge
where the tip of my cock pressed against her.  She gently, reverently
rubbed her palm over the small bulge and I actually felt the pressure of
it. "Right here," she said.  "Right here is where you came inside of me."
She glanced up at me.  "I can still feel that, too, Dad.  I actually feel
your sperm inside me.  You came an awful lot." There was a playful twinkle
in her eye and, if I didn't know better, I'd have guessed that she was
trying to keep me hard to ensure that my cock wouldn't slip out of her.
   "Well," I said, "you teased the hell out of me relentlessly for two days
straight.  It's all your fault.  Luckily, you can't get pregnant."
   "Birth control isn't one-hundred percent effective, you know," she told
me with a wicked smile.  "And with as much cum as you put inside me, that
one percent doesn't seem so insignificant."
   "Do you WANT me to get you pregnant, Beth?" I asked her.  "You're almost
out of high school.  You could put college off a year or two.  I wouldn't
exactly be over the moon about that, but..."
   "...but if I managed to bring you a baby in exchange, you'd consider
it?" my daughter finished with a cocked eyebrow.  I shrugged.  Ultimately,
the decision was hers- it was her body.  I didn't put much faith or stock
in the whole myth about two-headed incest babies and other nonsense. 
Genetically speaking, I came from a very hearty end of the gene pool.  Beth
seemed to think it over as she rubbed my cock-bulge in her tummy again. 
"Hmm," she mused.  "I don't know...  I can't say that the idea isn't
appealing to me.  I mean, hell, having my own father's second child?  It's
the ultimate taboo!  My breasts would get big, my skin would glow and I'd
be able to walk around carrying my father's baby and no one else would know
it but us."
   "And you'd have morning sickness and, let me tell you, giving birth is a
glorious thing, but it's no picnic.  People compare painful experiences to
child birth for a reason.  And there'd be late-night feedings and crying
and dirty diapers...  Sweetheart, raising a child isn't just some romantic
thing.  It's a lot of hard work and sleepless nights."
   "You're still hard and I don't want it to go to waste.  Please fuck me a
little, Dad.  Not hard, just a little bit.  Mmmm, yes, that's it.  Just
like that." She closed her eyes for a few seconds and kept her palm on her
stomach so that she could feel me moving inside of her.  Then she looked up
at me and asked, "I understand all of those things, Dad.  I'm not THAT
foolish.  Are you saying that you couldn't handle having another child?"
   I gently rocked my hips back and forth, limited to short strokes because
my cock still hadn't become dislodged from her clutching cervix, and shook
my head.  "I'm not saying that I couldn't handle it, Sweetheart.  I HAVE
handled it.  I could do it again, I think.  I just want you to understand
that it's not all fun and games.  You've read lots of fictional stories
where sexy little minxes like you get knocked up by their daddies, but
those stories ended there without going into the whole process of pregnancy
and child-rearing.  You're still very young, honey, with everything ahead
of you.  When you have kids, your life pretty much comes to a halt and THEY
become your entire life.  Look at me, honey, even now, with my cock buried
inside of you, I'm sitting here and counseling you, trying to teach you. 
That's what parenthood is, minus the sex part: it's a constant struggle of
pulling a child along who doesn't always take the long view on some
things."
   Beth nodded and rested her chin on her arms as she luxuriated in the
sensations I gave her.  I thought she was starting to build up to another
orgasm, but she was in fact thinking about what I'd just said.  I remained
respectfully quiet, still fucking her gently, until she looked back up at
me.  "You're right," she said finally.  "Maybe I'm too young to get started
on that just yet.  But it's not totally out of the question, is it?" She
reached back and lovingly placed her small palm on MY stomach while I moved
back and forth slowly.  "With you?"
   "You'll probably find someone a lot younger to raise a family with by
then, Sweetheart," I told her.  I didn't like admitting that possibility,
but I couldn't, in good conscience, deny her that option.
   Beth shook her head, her mind already made up.  She twisted her torso
just enough to fully face me.  "No.  I don't think so.  I'm with you,
always have been and always will be.  I couldn't leave you and don't want
to.  We'll continue having sex, making love and, maybe one day, start a
family of our own, when I'm ready.  For now, though, mmmm...  for now, I
just want to keep feeling you inside of me."
   I continued pushing my cock into my little girl for a few minutes longer
but the orgasm I'd had was finally, completely out of my system.  My cock
started to deflate, the tip of it slipped past the barrier of her cervix,
and I slowly withdrew it.  When I did, we both were amazed to see a rather
impressive amount of my semen leak out of her well-fucked opening.
   "So that's what they meant," she said distractedly and with a touch of
awe in her voice.
   "Who?" I asked.
   "Writers," my daughter answered.  "I read, all the time, in stories
where the guy's cock slips out of the woman and she suddenly feels this
strange emptiness.  I understand it now.  Before, it was just me and my
vibrator.  When I used it, it made me feel kind of full, but not quite. 
With you, though, I felt it.  I felt the warmth of it inside of me, filling
me up, and it felt like I was finally, y'know, complete.  But when you
pulled out, I suddenly felt this emptiness that didn't feel natural, in a
sense.  No pain or anything, just...  I'm empty again." She remained
thoughtfully silent for a moment and then said, "I guess that's probably
why women love sex so much.  Once they feel that fullness inside of them,
that completeness, they'll do almost anything to get it back." She fixed me
with a meaningful gaze and added, "It's very addictive, that kind of
feeling of comfort.  I totally get it now."
   "That's pretty profound for an eighteen-year-old girl," I mused.
   Beth scooped some of the creamy mess into her hand and experimentally
tasted it with her tongue, her eyes locked onto mine the entire time.  When
she'd licked her palm clean, she said, "I can answer your question now:
yes, you taste wonderful." I laughed and leaned down to kiss her joyously,
not caring that I tasted the mixture of our cum on her lips.  When we
parted, she said, "Thank you, Dad.  For everything.  For providing for me,
for protecting me, for giving me life.  And, now, for giving me the best
orgasm I've ever had, for filling me with your cum, for making me a woman
and for making me feel complete."
   I kissed her again and said, "You're more than welcome, Babygirl.  And
thank YOU for giving me so much pleasure.  Even without the sex I am so
grateful for having you in my life." I stood up and held my hand out to
her. "Now, let's say we get you out of that outfit before you completely
stain it with my cum."
   Beth got to her feet with my help, turned her back to me so that I could
unzip the dress, and then shrugged it off her shoulders.  As soon as she
was naked again, she tossed the dress away, sat back down on the edge of
the bed and we both watched with keen interest as my cum started to drip
down her inner thighs in rivulets.  I quickly knelt down and helped her get
the stockings off before they, too, became drenched with the white fluid. I
tossed the stockings aside and continued to watch my daughter's flooded
pussy.  It was like watching a race, which stream of Daddy's seed would
stop flowing first?  Beth just looked at me in wonder.  "Holy shit, Dad,
it's STILL coming out of me!  How much cum did you put in there, anyway?"
   I just smiled as I stood back up, my semi-erect cock dangling in front
of her and still coated with our shiny juices.  "The same amount that I'll
put inside you every chance I get, Sweetheart: every drop that I've got. 
From now on, I promise I'll never jack off while I'm home.  I'll put it all
inside of you, right where you want it.  After I go back to Afghanistan,
when I jack off, I'll do it thinking of you.  And when I get back home...
I'm not gonna touch myself for a week before I leave so that I can pump you
so full of my cum that it really WILL be pouring down your legs."
   Beth stood up on her toes and pulled on my neck so that she could kiss
me.  "You say the sweetest things, Dad.  Now...  I think it's time one of
us gets cleaned up," she said as she kneeled down in front of me, keeping
her eyes locked onto mine as she grabbed hold of my sticky member.
   "Just one of us?  And, uhm, that's not the shower."
   "No, but it's definitely about to get cleaned," she quipped and then
covered my cockhead with her mouth and began to suck in earnest.  Beth, I
am glad to say, is a VERY talented cocksucker.  I don't know where she
learned such skill, and don't want to- I just enjoyed the hell out of it. I
watched my daughter suck me off for several minutes, glorying in the
feelings she gave me, and marveled at how quickly my erection had returned,
just from her oral ministrations.  I told her as much.  She looked back up
at me, satisfied with her handiwork, and stroked the hardened shaft with
her small hand, unable to completely wrap her tiny fingers around it but
sending shivers down my spine even so.  "Now...  for round two: I was
thinking that YOU would shower ME.  Those videos you showed me earlier
today?  Hottest fucking things I'd seen in my entire life, Dad.  It got me
so excited that I almost crawled out of my skin.  I wanted to be those
girls, Dad.  I wanted to have cum shot directly into my pussy like they
did. I wanted YOU to do the shooting, but the timing wasn't right, then. 
Now, though, seems like the perfect time.  I mean, putting more of that
creamy stuff inside me isn't going to hurt at this point." She planted her
lips at the head of my cock again and sucked hard while gently tonguing the
slit.  Her mouth came off with a pop.  "So how about it, Dad?  Think you
can make your little girl's fantasy come true?"
   I took control of my penis from her and said with a grin, "Honey... 
assume the position.  Daddy's got some baby-batter for you." Beth
immediately rolled onto her back on the floor and kicked her shins over her
shoulders, showing me her glistening, wet pussy.  I knelt down in front of
her exposed cunt and began to pump my shaft excitedly.  It was so hot to
see her this way, ready and wanting me to pour my cum into her like this.
If I could do it directly into her womb, I thought to myself, I would.  I
stopped stroking myself, suddenly inspired by that thought, and said,
"Sweetheart, remember back in junior high, when you were in cheerleading?"
   Beth blinked at me in confusion.  "Yeah.  So?"
   "So, I seem to recall you being able to put your ankles behind your
head. Are you still able to do that and, maybe, pull your pussy open at the
same time?"
   Beth just stared up at me for a long few seconds, then righted herself
and hopped to her feet.  "I can sure as hell try!" she said as she went
back to the bed, laid on her back and proceeded to carefully hook both
ankles behind her neck.  It seemed awkward at first, but she finally
adjusted her arms so that she could touch her pussy without pulling any
muscles.  Her ankles seemed locked in place, too.  "Thank God you already
stretched me out some," she said as she worked two fingers into either side
of her pussy and began to gently pull it open for me.  "There's no way I
could've done this before.  All right, Dad, I'm ready, I think.  How's it
look?"
   I walked up to her and looked down at the small bundle that was my
daughter, twisted up like a pretzel.  Her dainty fingers had pulled her
inner and outer pussy lips wide apart, far wider than I expected.  What an
amazing sight!  "Honey, this is incredible!  Holy hell, I can't believe
we're about to do this!" I said as I began to stroke my cock faster and
harder.  The ceiling fan above my bed had very bright lights on it and I
was able to see straight down into Beth's deep chasm like it was a shallow
well with her cervix resting in wait at the bottom.  I could see remnants
of my cum from earlier still pooled there and her pink cervix glistened
invitingly.  Beth held herself so wide open that there was easily enough
clearance to shove my throbbing meat down inside of her and not touch the
sides.
   As though she was reading my mind, Beth said, "I want to see you put it
inside me.  Put your cock inside, Dad." I lowered the head of my cock so
that it could eclipse her stretched opening and it sank down inside of her
easily without touching her inner walls.  "Oh my God," she gasped.  "I see
it, but I can't believe that I'm actually watching you do this!"
   Feeling even more experimental, I pushed a little further downward so
that I could tap the entrance to her womb with the head of my cock. 
"Knock-knock," I said playfully and pulled myself back without completely
withdrawing it from her gaped canal.
   "WHOAH!" Beth cried with surprise as her hips involuntarily spasmed.  In
her crumpled state, she couldn't see everything that I could.  "I sure as
hell FELT it!  What the fuck did you just do?"
   "I just said hello to your cervix with the tip of my penis," I told her.
"Did you like it?"
   "Like it?  Dad, that felt incredible!" she exclaimed.  "I can't tell
from here- just how wide open am I, anyway?"
   I dipped my cock deeper into the opening and tapped her cervix again,
which caused her to jerk involuntarily once more in surprise at the
sensation.  This time, however, I pulled out and resumed stroking myself
with the head of my cock still aimed downward.  "Wide enough for me to do
that with ease, Babygirl.  Daddy's almost ready to cum, honey.  Are you
ready for it?"
   "God, what I wouldn't give to see that!" she said.
   Inspiration struck again and I smiled at her wolfishly.  "I think I have
just the thing for that.  Hold still for just a minute." I quickly went
into my bathroom, yanked open one of the drawers and grabbed an old shaving
mirror.  I didn't use it anymore but never got around to throwing it out.
It was one of those magnifying mirrors that makes whatever's in the
reflection seem a lot bigger.  I returned to my daughter and held it up for
her to see.
   "Brilliant!" she said happily and awkwardly reached for it with her
hand. "Give it to me.  I want to see." I handed it to her and she held it
gingerly between the knuckles of her free fingers while still managing to
hold herself open with one finger of each hand.  The dexterity in doing so
was amazing to me, but she just barely managed to do it.  She angled the
mirror so that she could see her own pussy spread to its maximum limit. 
When the angle was just right, she gasped again.  "Holy shit, Dad, that's
amazing!  You really CAN see my cervix!  And, look, there's some of your
cum from earlier!"
   "Well," I said as I resumed masturbating over her gaped chalice, "I've
got more for you if you'll give me a minute." I stroked my cock with real
vigor, careful not to bump the mirror from her precarious grasp.  It didn't
take me long until I was close to orgasm again.  "I'm just about there,
Babygirl," I told her as I aimed my swollen cockhead at her entrance. 
"Ready?"
   "Definitely!  Push it right up against my cervix and fill me up, Dad! 
Shoot it directly into me if you can!  Oh, FUCK, this is so hot!  I CAN'T
FUCKING BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING!" Beth cried with glee.  "I want your
cum, Daddy.  I want to see you put the tip inside my cervix just before you
cum and then I want you to shoot off right inside my womb!"
   I stroked myself like a madman now and could feel the bubbling in my
loins like never before.  It was a deep, rumbling sort of sensation and I
knew I was going to cum a lot again.  I didn't know where all this semen
was coming from, but I wasn't going to let it go to waste.  "I'll need you
to open up, honey," I gasped as I pushed my cockhead downward so that my
cumslit kissed the entrance to her uterus.  "Quick!"
   As if on cue, Beth emitted a heartfelt "ohm".  It wasn't as deep as
before due to the fact that she had folded herself in half, but it was
enough to cause her cervix to wink open for me.  I deftly inserted just the
tip of my cock into the brief opening and wedged my bloated cockhead in the
rest of the way.  Once I was lodged inside my little girl's deepest
chamber, I feasted my eyes on the sight of it and placed my hands on her
taut buttocks to keep both of us steady.
   "You're in, Dad!  I can just barely see it!" Beth cooed as I very gently
rocked my hips to maintain friction on my over-sensitized penis, watching
as just a mere two inches of my cock slid in and out of her cervical ring.
The boiling in my loins quickly changed into a full churning of impending
release and I froze with just the head poised inside her uterus's entrance.
"Now cum, Dad!  I want to watch you cum inside me!  Fill me with your
baby-batter!"
   It was so damned erotic, the knowledge of what I was about to do, that I
couldn't hold back any longer and began to shoot every last ounce of sperm
I had left inside of me.  With shaking knees, I held myself perfectly still
while we watched in fascination as my cock throbbed and pulsed, pushing
another glorious load of cum into my daughter's crumpled body.  "I'm
cumming, baby!" I told her between gasping breaths.  "Fuck!  I can't
believe I'm filling you up like this!"
   "Oooooh, yes, cum inside me, Daddy," Beth pleaded, her eyes glued to the
reflection in the mirror.  "Don't ever stop!  Oh, God, it's just so fucking
good and hot, Dad.  I'm feeling it and seeing it go in at the same time! 
Oh!  OH, SHIT!  More!"
   My cock jerked and spasmed while Beth continued to hold her gaping pussy
open for us to watch this incredible spectacle.  It was just amazing to
watch the very tip of my cock jump with each slug of cum that rocketed down
into Beth's uterus, the mouth of her cervix moving right along with my cock
as it pulsed repeatedly like we were fused together.  My balls clenched and
surged with the abuse they had been put through, but I continued to pump
everything they had through my shaft.  A moment later, though, I was
completely tapped and, even though it was still spasming, there was no more
cum to offer.  I gently pulled back on my cock and watched as my barbed tip
finally managed to come out of her inner opening with a silent pop.  The
cervix immediately snapped shut, trapping my seed inside her womb for good.
When I stood back, I said, "I wish we had a video camera so that you could
play it back and watch it while I'm away.  Make our own little porno."
   Beth smiled up at me, her ankles still locked behind her head, and said,
"We have two weeks, Dad.  Plenty of time for that." She let go of the
mirror and her stretched pussy lips and then rubbed her mons happily.
   Not a single drop of my cum had escaped the clutches of Beth's cervix
when I withdrew myself from her body.  My seed was a part of her now,
nestled uselessly within her womb, but the knowledge of what could be was
incredibly arousing.  My cock was done, quite literally petered out, but
that didn't mean I couldn't give my daughter a few more moments of
pleasure. I knelt down at the foot of the bed and began to bathe my
daughter's well-fucked pussy with my tongue.  I covered every inch of her
bald, puffy mound with absolute love and care and I paid special attention
to her clitoris, which had her moaning deeply the whole time.  Finally, she
couldn't hold her position any longer and let her legs come down around my
shoulders as I continued to eat her out with relish.  She tasted wonderful
and I loved every second of it, but there was more of her body to explore.
I slowly moved my way upwards, kissing the spot on her stomach for a moment
where my cum was pooling inside her, and moved still higher to feast on her
firm breasts, first the right one and then the left.  The whole time I
lavished this loving attention on my daughter's body her hands roamed over
my head and neck imploringly, gratefully.  I suckled my daughter's breasts
for a good, long while, gently biting the small, round nipples with my
teeth from time to time and sucking hard on the areolae.  From that oral
attention alone, Beth enjoyed a nice, small climax and pulled me further
still up her body until we were face to face.  I looked down at my
daughter, not saying a word as my now limp penis lay atop her tired pussy.
   Beth looked back up at me with her beautiful eyes and stroked my cheek
with one hand while rubbing the muscles of my shoulders with the other.  "I
love you, Dad," she told me.
   pt.02 continues......
   pics---->> http://bit.ly/1D1q3qp
  
NothingIWontDo