"Welcome, Miss Harter. Have a seat."
Still unsure of why I was here, I made my way across the room and sat down on the plush tan sofa that is the trademark of a psychiatrist's office. It wasn't the first time I had entered my parents' counselor's room, but I was surprised when he asked to see me and my parents separately. Surprised since I wasn't the patient.
Unfortunately, though, Mom was.
She had undergone a huge metamorphosis in the last few months, ever since her bookstore had been held up. No longer was she a mom who fussed over her little girl and husband - now she hardly seemed to care about us. It wasn't deliberate, that was certain, for there were instances when the old Mom came out. It was just as if her head had been messed up, as if her priorities had suddenly ceased to exist. The worst part of it had been that she didn't know it.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Dr. Malwinch seemed to be studying me, and for a second, I wondered whether I was the one a block short. Then he smiled, genuinely, softly. His eyes twinkled from behind the glasses as he poured a glass of water and slid it towards me. Still, neither of us spoke.
"Thanks, but I am not thirsty," I said, attempting to break the ice.
"Oh," he replied with a casual wave of his hand, "It's not just for thirst - perhaps, when I am done with my diagnosis, you may want to throw it at me head. Whatever - just as long as you express your feelings."
"You keep the suspence up, Doc, and I won't wait till your report to dunk you," I grinned back at him.
He smiled back. "Fair enough."
Slowly, the smile faded; a grim and sober face replaced the chubby smile I had been greeted with. "Your fears, unfortunately, were correct," he began, and my heart sank. Although Dad and I had suspected it, it was still as devastating to have it confirmed. I lowered my eyelids so that he wouldn't see that my eyes were filling up.
"However," he added hastily, "It's not serious. It's curable, really, but the medicine might be a little bit unorthodox... I'll just save that for later. Firstly, though, I think you should know the problem your mother has."
I nodded my head silently, reaching into my handbag for the hanky before thinking better of it. Doc Mal waited until I had raised my eyes to his before continuing.
"You are aware of schizophrenia, I suppose?"
"Isn't it the disease where people feel paranoid or something?"
"Yes, although I wouldn't exactly go so far as to call it a disease. A disease is something physical, viral, bacterial, etc - oh dear, I fear I digress. Your general perception is correct though - paranoia.
"Now, while schizophrenia is getting increasingly 'popular' these days, there is a left side to it. R-She-Z, I call it. Reverse schizophrenia. It's extremely rare, and is often confused with depression. It's not serious, and the few cases that I've seen or read about have all been cured."
That raised my hopes a little bit.
"Your Mom has R-She-Z. I haven't gone beyond the first layer of counseling, but this I can tell you - her problem is not insecurity, but a lack thereof. Nothing seems to threaten her, and that, perhaps, is the main reason her dependence on you has decreased. A mother's motif is to feel wanted by her children, by her husband, and that's what makes her feel secure.
"That's why the incidence of depression among women in the higher age-groups is moon-high - once the kids gain a little independence, the mother is a little less needed. Not less loved, mind you, but expression of it is as important as the love itself.
"Your mother seems to have lost that need. Apparently, she's dissociated herself from being wanted... she is too sure of her place in the family now to feel wanted. There is nothing to threaten her life, her living.
"And that brings me to my question, Kelly. How much do you want to get your mother back? To what lengths are you willing to go to?"
"Whatever it takes."
He paused for effect. "To the extent of posing a threat?"
"I don't understand."
"What I mean is, can you be bold enough to threaten your Mom's position in your family? Her position as the dominant female, as the strong voice. And most importantly, as... your father's wife?"
It took me all of ten seconds to gather the full import of his words. To say that the last question shook me up would be an understatement - I felt numb below my neck. And yet, there was the start of a strange stirring somewhere in my body. It wasn't too much. Not yet, anyway.
"What the hell do you mean?" My voice rose.
"Exactly what I mean. Would you be willing to go so far as to have an affair with your own father to have your mother back? Is she worth it?" Then his voice softened. "Just think about it..."
I sat there dumbly, trying to find out an alternative. Perhaps, if I hadn't been so unnerved, I might have come up with one - but as it was, the only thing that was echoing inside my head was the proposed affair with my Dad. Before I knew it, I was seriously considering the notion.
Not that Dad was not good-looking or anything - as far as I was concerned, he could beat most of the jocks who had been trying to get me. And somehow, I just knew he would be a wonderful and considerate lover; he was, and always had been, a loving and considerate man, never one to lose his anger.
I made a mental checklist.
Virile? I shocked myself the way I was evaluating him.
Dammit! Couldn't I come up with a single No?
Possible? No... aha... maybe...
I shook my head in failure. He was my father, true, and I realized at that moment that this relationship was the only thing that must have held me back from desiring him. Now, even the taboo was too thin. If Dad had been in front of me, and had proposed, I knew I couldn't - and wouldn't - say no. Incest was dirty no longer.
The Doc caught my nod with a sigh of satisfaction. "Ah! Few women, I am told, can resist such an opportunity."
"But will it work?" I ventured. For the sin I was about to commit, nothing short of Mom's recovery would suffice.
"Honey, in the one case where I suggested such a remedy, it worked. Don't get your hopes up, though - she will need your help as much as she needs mine. Do you want me to talk to your father about this, or should I?"
"I will - no, maybe... I think you should do it, Doc. Dad would kill me..."
"I doubt that," the psychiatrist returned casually, "I doubt any man could turn you down."
I smiled weakly at him. "What do I do?"
"Why don't you talk to my daughter?" he asked. "She's rather qualified in these matters, I must say, and it would be easier to talk to a person closer in age. Let me just page her."
Before I could ask him how his daughter was 'qualified in these matters,' Doc Malwinch had buzzed her on the intercom. From the previous visits, I knew that her office was right beside his, and it was just a matter of seconds before a beautiful woman, blonde, smiling and dressed in a business suit, walked through a door at the back of his office.
"Hello Dad!" she chirped brightly and walked over to him. The two embraced, then, much to my surprise, kissed each other on the lips like lovers. I could see the girl's eyes get wide when she spotted me, but her hands could do nothing but flail at the back of his head as their lips continued to stick.
When they pulled apart, finally, the girl nudged her father in the ribs and pointed to me, as if chiding him for being so indiscrete. Malwinch just shrugged his shoulders, then, slipping his arm around her waist rather intimately, escorted her to my side.
"I don't suppose you have met," the Doc began. "Megan, this is Kelly Harter. Kelly, my daughter and right hand, Megan."
I guess the shock was as evident on my face as the sheepishness on hers. She shook my hand warmly, then, following her father, sat on the edge of his chair. The Doc, it seemed as by habit, placed his arm around her waist, the palm resting in front of her crotch, before his daughter wisely shuffled so that the air of sexuality between them was not so obvious.
"What's the matter, Dad? If Kelly doesn't mind me asking."
I have to give the doctor credit - whatever the intimacy of his blood, he waited for the peremptory nod from me before telling his daughter about my mother. When he mentioned the possible course of action, her eyes seemed to light up. She looked at me, as if studying me in the same manner her father had when I had entered the room, and she seemed to like what she saw.
Then she turned to her father. "Why don't Kelly and I go into my room, Papa? You can go back to the rest of your patients, and I will fill you in later."
"That's a good idea, sweetie. In fact, why don't I fill you up while you fill me in?"
I swear the girl turned a positively dark shade of red at his flirtatious suggestion, and she cast an amused glance in my direction before kissing her father, this time only lightly, on his lips. "You dirty old goat," she giggled, "You are going to get us into trouble."
Still smiling, she gestured for me to follow her. We crossed the room, and she locked the door after I had entered a room similar to the one I had just exited. This one was more pleasantly decorated, more feminine, but it was obvious that the differences were purely cosmetic.
"Thanks," I accepted. Megan poured two cups from a percolator placed behind her seat, then joined me at the bucket-sofa. Neither of us spoke until we had finished more than half of the coffee, me not knowing what to say, she perhaps waiting for me to break the silence. "Nice coffee," I complimented her, curious as to her role in this whole essay.
"Thanks," Megan smiled - it seemed to come as naturally to her as batting an eyelid - "It's a wonderful drink for doctors, you know. Gets the tongue loose. For the patients, that is. It's an ordeal to deal with a patient who won't reveal anything on his own. You have to cross-examine it out of them."
After a brief pause, she continued. "So, what my father said... is it true, or are you just too confused to say no right now?"
"I guess it is the latter," I admitted. "I want my Mom back, and I suppose I don't care if I have to rot in hell for that."
"Oh, bosh!" Megan cut in. She placed her cup on the tea-table, then caught my eyes and fixed them with a level gaze. "That's an old wives' tale. Nobody goes to hell for making love, nowadays, it would fill the place up with all sorts of people."
"Yeah, but incest..."
"Pertains to the act of sex between close relations. That's all. It's just a word. The same as marriage and divorce, life and death. Some people want it, others don't. Only the choice differs."
"But... I mean, the Bible..."
"Where Lot's daughters seduced him into making them pregnant so that the world could once again be peopled? It's a book, after all, just the same as the Koran or the Gita. Theirs is an ideal life, one where there is a God at every corner of your life. Today's world is far more complicated, sister, and you cannot say where one wrong ends and the other begins."
"True," I conceded, "But does that make it less wrong?"
"Who decides what's right or wrong?" she countered. "The President? His wife? A priest? No, it's you. It's me. The people who live with their decisions. A few years ago, homosexuals were condemned - now they have the right to marry and to adopt. Who knows? The world may go the same way with incest one day."
"You seem to feel very strongly about the subject."
She grinned at me. "It's obvious, isn't it? I guess, as a doctor, I should be more careful with opinions like this. It could get embarassing."
"Can I ask a personal question?"
"Aren't I the one supposed to be asking that? Okay, go ahead."
"Are you and your - I mean, I couldn't help but notice the way you kiss - I mean, are you and your father... ?"
"Are we lovers?" she completed, laughing softly. "It's a secret, but yeah! There would be no use denying it after you saw us kissing, and besides, it could be relevant to the matter at hand. Yes, Dad and I are lovers. Have been for the past two years. And except for raise a family, we have done everything else couples are supposed to do. Making love, dating, honeymooning, dancing... We even went so far as to get engaged!"
"Isn't it? I told you - how can something so nice be dirty? I'll admit that before I slept with Dad, I was in your mindset - all that changed the first time we made love. Now I can't think of a life without him."
"Is he a widower?"
"Nice way of asking if my mother is still alive. Yes, she is, and she is still living with us. She was a bitch once upon a time, and Daddy and I started to spend more time at the office to avoid being with her. It was inevitable, then, that the chemistry happened, and Daddy and I found ourselves all sweaty and naked one evening.
"There were no regrets, though, after the fact, and the only misgiving was that it hadn't happened sooner. It soon blossomed into a full affair, and we set up an apartment where we could sneak off to. Then, once, we dashed off - just like that - to Vegas, telling Mom some bogus story of a wealthy casino owner there.
"Eventually, Mom found out. She tracked Dad to the apartment, and barged in to find the two of us; I'll never forget the look on her face. Her knees just gave way, and while she never told anybody, she went into a kind of depression. Kind of like she had lost everything.
"It was a side of Mom I had never seen. Up until then, she had always baited me, insulting and domineering, but that day changed everything. She didn't speak a word to us for two days, and when she did finally speak, it was a shock! She was apologising for barging in, for violating our privacy. At first, we thought she was setting us up, but soon, we realized that she was in fact, dead serious.
"She started to resign herself very easily. When I walk into a room, she would move away from Dad, as if afraid that I would think something. She moved out of their bedroom, and slept in the loft so that she wouldn't interrupt us. It got so bad that she was almost like a slave to us, a footservant. She would wash our clothes, make the bed, make dinner, insist on cleaning and what-not.
"For Dad, it was all the more painful. It was not the woman he had married, it was not what she had turned into. She was little more than a shadow.
"It took us over four months to realize that she was suffering from reverse schizophrenia."
Megan paused, watching me as the information sunk in. As far as I was concerned, she could be predicting the future. Was this the case her father had claimed had been successfully treated with incest?
As if reading my mind, Megan broke in. "I am sure Dad would have told you that your situation has a precedent. This wasn't it, but it gave Dad the idea of suggesting it to the other family. Like you, they were reluctant at first, but then the father warmed to the idea. Before long, the girl also agreed. Suffice to say that it took them all of six months for the mother to get all right."
"Six months?" I exclaimed. I had no idea it would take so long.
"Quite frankly, that's one case. There's no telling how long your mother will take - it could be six months, six weeks, less, more. It's not an exact treatment. The only bright side is that if things work out well between you and your dad, six months might seem like too little a time."
I don't know how long I had intended any affair with Dad to go on, but six months had definitely not crossed my mind. Now that Megan had raised the point, any decisiveness I had managed to build up vanished. Half a year is a long time to fall out of love - or into it! What if Mom became alright and demanded that I leave her husband alone? What then? Could I do it?
"Which one, mine or the earlier one? Doesn't matter, both had happy endings. We managed to get rid of Mom's depression, and she - I love her for it - asked that Dad and I not stop, said that was the least she could do for us. Basically, I think she didn't want to live with the fear that we could fall into each other again, and what better way to get us to stop doing it behind her back than to let us do it in front of her?
"As for the other family, they got careless. The girl got pregnant, and it was only when the news was announced that her mother flipped back. She went ballistic, and thankfully, her father being a doctor, sedated her. Dad and I hypnotised her into willingly listening to the daughter's and husband's part of the story. She forgave them, but it took her a couple of months more to come to turns with the fact that the father and daughter would always remain lovers.
"Now, Kelly, I know this is hard for you. You may have never thought of your father as a man or as a partner, and I have to warn you - the moment you do, you will be hooked. Every man thinks his daughter is the most beautiful, every daughter her father's the most handsome. I've seen your father, and I must say he is still in his prime. You are what, eighteen? Okay, nineteen.
"It's a wonderful age for falling in love, nineteen, but that's when it gets cemented. If you still think incest is repulsive, stop! Don't even consider your father in the equation.
"But if incest does not bother you, if the only question that you want answered is, will he be as good for you as you would be for him? Then, my dear, you are already hooked. You might just as well take off all your clothes and jump in bed with him."
I pondered this for a while. It was well-put, blunt and to the point, but it wasn't suggestive. The decision had to be mine 100%. I closed my eyes and reclined on the soft cushion, deliberating if I could take the final step or not. And then, just for the briefest of seconds, I felt Dad kissing me on my lips. It was sheer imagination, but it did the trick.
"I think," I said, rolling each word over my tongue, "Talking to Dad would be a good idea."
"Is that a yes?"
"That is a yes."
"You must really love him."
"It's all for mother, really."
"Of course, how stupid of me!"
The two of us giggled. "Okay, so I do love him too. It's a secret, right?"
Megan raised her right hand. "Doctor's ethics." Then she lowered her voice to a whisper, and in a conspiratorial tone, "He is just too sexy, isn't he?"
I could only blush.
It was early afternoon when I drove home. It was the summer hols, and I would be having the house all to myself. Mom was gone on a trip upstate, and Dad would be late as he had to visit Doctor Malwinch. I pulled into the garage, locked the car and went in.
The first thing on my agenda was a shower, and I stripped off right in the bedroom itself. Gone was the confusion of an hour ago - strangely, my heart was now light. It was as if I was in love - which, in a way, I had to admit I was. Nagging at me was the only fear that Dad might say no, but the female in me wanted to seduce Dad if he refused. The question wasn't if, it was when.
I guess I lost sight of the fact that we were supposed to be doing this to get Mom back. The water had never felt so good against my body, and there was this new life coursing through me. It was something akin to the first time Ronald had spoken to me, all of three years ago. He was my first, and only love. There had been a couple of guys after that, but none had come close to him.
Now it was just Dad. And I wanted him to come into the room, take me in his arms, crush my lips with his and just kiss until the end of the world.
God, I thought to myself, Megan was so right. I had admitted to myself that I had a huge crush on Dad only an hour ago, and already I was as jittery as a sixteen year old on her first date.
Then my eyes fell on a picture of the three of us. Dad, me and... Mom.
I hadn't closed my bathroom door, but I hadn't heard the front door open over the sound of the shower. I had never cultivated any habit of taking any of my fresh clothes into the bathroom, and wrapping a towel loosely around myself, I stepped out.
I glanced at the mirror, absently evaluating my chances of being desirable to Dad. Brown, curly hair that reached down to my nipples, brown eyes, small but sharp nose, thin lips, long neck, firm breasts that had been acknowledged as gravity-defying, pink nipples, firm stomach... Just the typical American teenage girl. Dad was around six feet tall, but I was just half a head taller than Mom's 5'3" frame.
Bending over, I threw my wet hair over my head and untied the towel. I had just started rubbing my hair when I heard my father's exclamation.
"Oops! Sorry, Kell!"
Looking up, I saw Dad staring at me for a split second before turning away, and I realized with a start that I was stark naked. Hurriedly, I wrapped the towel around my body, cursing myself for having chosen the shortest one I had. I dared pull it up only as high as my nipples - half of the areolas were no longer a hidden vision. To pull it up any higher would only expose my pussy.
"I should have knocked," Dad began to apologise.
"It's alright, Dad," I said, placing an arm so as to cover the rest of my breasts. If Dad hadn't turned around, I might have been bold enough to let him see as much as he could - hell, I might not even have bothered with the towel! "You can turn around now. In case you haven't noticed, I hadn't closed the door. You couldn't have knocked."
Dad turned around slowly, and it was a mixture of relief and disappointment that I saw on his face. He held a package in his hand, gift-wrapped, which he handed over to me.
"What is it?" I asked as I took it from him with one hand, not daring to risk the towel slipping off. "Anything special?" Something had to be special - Dad wouldn't have been home this early if it wasn't.
"I saw the doctor today," Dad offered by way of explanation. If he was looking for a reaction from me, I disappointed him - forcing him to continue. "He told me you have agreed..."
I nodded. I wanted him to take the initiative.
"I - I stopped at Lacy's on the way home," he said, changing the subject. Lacy was the local lingerie statement - a set from Lacy's would have me broke for a month. "Thought I would pick up something for you." Abruptly, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me half-naked and puzzled. Why Lacy's?
I shut the door after him, then placed the box on the bed. A part of me wanted to bawl myself out for having let an opportunity go begging, but I figured just as immediately that we would have to develop everything slowly, in front of Mom. My focus shifted back to the elegantly-packed gift on my bed.
Inside were a couple of complete lingerie sets - thongs, bras, slip... One was jet blacy, but it was only when I picked it up that I realized that it stretched at the slightest pull to turn translucent. The bra cups were little more than silk threads woven to hold the straps together. I expected the second set, of a full shade of body pink, to be of the same type, but boy, was I mistaken! The bra was a quarter the size of the usual cups, and the panties - thin to the point of being nonexistent.
I laid out the wisps - for they were indeed little more than that - of clothing on my bed. First glance told me they would be a tight fit, and when I tried to slip on the black bra, I realized that the female intuition is infallible. I reached around for the strap and clamped it with some difficulty - in the process, a nipple had slid out of the confines of the bra and peeked obscenely.
I slid on the bottoms, and studied my appearance. Okay, so the naughty nipple still threatened to poke out of the cup, but at least I had managed to get him back in. The back of the thong, as all thongs do, vanished into the crack of my ass, with the front V tapering so much that I could feel the air on my lips. I still didn't know, though, why Dad had gone to the expense and trouble of getting me these undies.
I reached into my wardrobe for something to wear when a naughty thought struck me. Still clad in the lingerie, with nothing over or under it, I decided that it would be the proper attire when asking Dad the why of his buying me these.
Dad's mouth gaped open when he saw me stroll into the kitchen, almost nude. I am sure he would never have thought that I would have modeled them for him so soon, which was why he was motionless until I stepped away after planting a kiss on his cheeks, my breasts lightly brushing against his arm.
"So what's the occasion, Pops?"
His eyes travelled the length of my body, dwelling partcularly on the dark shades of my nipples and my unshaved bush. Rather than distract him, I let him see his share of my body. I decided the next word would be his.
Dad knew the instant he met my gaze that I had caught him looking, and he immediately averted his eyes. I had almost made up my mind to say something when he asked, "Are you sure about this, honey?"
"As much as I can be," I relaxed. "It's all to get Mom back."
"Yes," he repeated, "It's to get Mom back, but have you realized we may have to go all the way?"
"Dad, Megan told me that it took them a baby..."
"And still, you agreed?"
"Like she said, that was one case. Maybe we wouldn't have to go beyond heavy petting and kissing before Mom flares up."
"But if we do?"
"I am willing to do whatever it takes, Papa, and I am sure I will never regret it."
"If you are so sure..."
"I am so sure."
"That's a load off my chest," Dad sighed.
"What about you? Any misgivings?" I asked.
"Just the fact that you happen to be my daughter. Anybody else, and..." he left the rest to imagination.
"So what's with all this lingerie and stuff?"
Dad smiled sheepishly at me. "Part of the deception. I haven't bought your Mom something this daring in the last three-four years - too tempting! Maybe she will get jealous or something. Besides, a young thing like you should also dress sexy. Very sexy."
"So you like it?"
"Even better on you."
That brought some flush to my cheeks. "Speaking of it 'on me,' how did you get the size almost correct?"
"What do you mean by almost?" Dad roared in mock-indignation. "It's a perfect fit. You just better not try any exercising with those on, that's all!" Then he grinned sheepishly. "You won't believe the trouble I had just picking the right size. When I gestured your size to the saleswoman, she rattled off a range of sizes... It was a lucky guess, but I almost blurted out that I didn't know the cup-size of my own daughter."
"Gee! I wonder what they would have thought of a father who knew his daughter's size..."
"Good God! I never thought of it that way! Anyway, all's well that ends well."
"Not quite. These things are still a mite too small."
Dad looked at my wear, then smiled. "We could exchange them tomorrow, if you want," he offered, "I can also show them that my girlfriend is worth every cent I throw her way."
"That's a compliment," I quipped, "I think. What's your plan, Dad?"
"I was thinking of renting a movie. Dinner, then sleep. Got an early day tomorrow. Your Mom's coming on the five am flight. What about you?"
"Absolutely clueless. No date, nothing. Say, why don't we go over our 'affair'?"
"Good idea. It's already dark, so why don't I get the dinner ready?"
"Let me help - "
"Not in that costume you are not, unless you want some burnt potatoes and toast. It's too much of a distraction. Now, off you go."
As I walked out of the room with an exaggerated catwalk, Daddy made as if to slap me on my ass. I swerved, but his hands still brushed across the bare skin - it was exciting to know that there was something improper in the gesture. Giggling, I ran up the stairs to my room.
Dinner that night was a very pleasant affair, perhaps more so because of the fact that each of us were considering the occasion as an opportunity to see each other as a date. We were hardly in appropriate attire, though, with me just having thrown a loose shirt over a set of old panties, and Daddy had traded in his pants and shirt for an open-necked t-shirt and shorts. Dad and I joked and kidded each other throughout the meal, but neither of us spoke anything about Mom or our future. That was to be the dessert.
I was constantly aware of Dad's eyes on me as I stretched my hands so as to keep all the utensils - like I mentioned, I am not as tall as Dad - in their shelves. Eventually, he stood beside me and, holding me gently around the waist, gave me that extra lift. Together, we had the dishes put away in no time.
"Tell me something, Dad," I asked, turning around so that I was facing him. "What was your reaction when the doctor told you we could do this?"
"Quite frankly," Dad replied, "My first reaction was to throw the guy out of the window. Then he told me you had already agreed. That knocked me for a loop. I guess, though, once I knew you were okay with it, it wasn't sounding too bad anymore..."
"That's why you bought me all the lingerie... but didn't even ask me, confirm whether I had actually agreed or not?" I pointed out.
"I jumped the gun there. You can't blame me, it ain't everyday that I find out my daughter wouldn't mind making love with me!"
"Honestly," I continued, "Was I just as... attractive - before the doc pointed it out to you that we could be an... item?"
Now Dad averted his eyes. "I don't think I can answer that question, sweetie. It might make you think bad of me..."
I placed a soft kiss on his lips. Instinctively, his arms cupped my ass-cheeks. Even though the kiss lasted only a second, I lingered on his touch, our lips so close his breath was tickling me. "If the answer is yes," I told him, "I wouldn't mind."
Dad cleared his throat. "I don't think every father feels this, but then again, not every father has a wonderful daughter like you. I've always found you attractive, sweetie, and your beautiful nature - and face and body - are something anyone might find a little too challenging to resist. There was a time when I even fantasised about sneaking into your room at night and watching you sleep naked... Are you sure you don't mind?"
Wow! This was a side of my father I had never known, never even suspected. I squeezed his elbow to reassure him. "The fact that you did nothing then... you are a good man, Pop. Did you stop, or do you still... ?"
"It took a lot, but I was able to resist the temptation before I did anything wrong. You never used to sleep naked, but it was still a treat to watch your form on the bed. There were times when I wanted to kill myself lest I hurt the child I loved dearer than life."
I realized this was taking a lot out of Dad, but perhaps - no, definitely - he would feel better once we held nothing back. It was not just a little exciting to hear him admit that he fantasised me, and I regretted the fact that I hadn't worn a bra. All Dad had to do was touch my nipples and he would find them rock-hard. In spite of myself, I wanted to kiss this man deeply, assuring him every second that I could never think bad of him.
Not after what I knew.
"It's not that bad," I consoled him, "There are dads who go around raping their girls for half as much feeling. I don't just love you, Dad, I respect you. Even more now."
We embraced silently, my head on his shoulder, and we stood like that for almost a full minute. "That means a lot to me," Dad admitted as we pulled away. We held hands like lovers reluctant to part, before finally releasing each other. Dad smiled at me, and returned the favor. "What about you, sweetie? You ever think of me as a - um, hunk?"
I looked into his eyes, brown like mine, and smiled. "Ever since I was born," I said, "Not a hunk, Daddy, but something more." I searched for the appropriate word. "A person. Someone I would want to spend the rest of my life with. You are that kind of guy, Daddy, I would have married if you weren't my father."
"It always boils down to that, doesn't it, baby?" Daddy asked ruefully, drawing me closer towards him. "I will always be your father, and you will always be my daughter. Anything else..." His voice trailed away.
We hugged silently, my breasts quashed against his chest. I could sense an erection on him, but it was something that was now acceptable - at least, to me. In fact, it added to my feminine ego - Dad liked me enough to consider me as a grown woman.
We pulled apart, once again not wanting to but having to, and walked hand-in-hand into the living room. I sat first, and as naturally as if it had been routine, Dad stretched out on the couch, his head on my lap, on my bare thigh. It gave me the tingles just to know that Daddy was just a mite away from my sensitivity, and to distract myself from the feeling, I bent over and gave Daddy a kiss on his forehead. In the process, though, my breasts pressed against the side of his face. Even as I straightened, Daddy turned to left slightly, his lips brushing against my breasts through the material of the shirt, and I couldn't help but shudder slightly.
"God, if this is how things are now, how the hell are we going to act sensibly?"
I had to laugh at Dad's expression as he looked at me with a mock-terrified expression. "Who says we have to?" I shot back, and Dad smiled.
"Seriously, hun, I am still worried. I mean, we've covered a lot of distance in a single day, haven't we?"
"Humm!" I agreed.
"Can we walk back all the way? This is the first time we've been so... expressive, but I don't think I would ever want it to stop. Not now, not when your mother gets alright, not even if you have to get married. Jesus, not ever!"
"Ditto, pops." I knew where he was leading, but being the headstrong teenager, I wasn't about to make backing out any easier for him.
"What if we can't, sweetie, we have to but we can't?"
He was serious now, as worried as I had ever seen him. "Then we won't, Pop. If we don't want to..."
He shook his head. "We would have to want, honey. Your mother's worth it, isn't it? I don't think I can live without her, and I know I can't live without you. It's not just the physical intimacy, you know..."
I ran a hand through his hair. "I know exactly how you feel, Daddy. But I don't think I want to say no right now."
We locked eyes, mine stared defiantly back at him. In the end, he answered. "That goes for me too... I have built so many dreams... still, I just hope we can do what we have to do... now and later. Whatever happens, Kelly, I love you."
"Not more than I love you!" The tension was suddenly lifted, the two of us laughed.
We watched a couple of old shows on TV, for about an hour or so. Dad was lying on his side, and it was damn cheeky of him to rub his face against my bare leg. His day's growth of beard tickled me, and his breath gave me goosebumps all over. Surely, he would have noticed it - but no, Dad had no idea of the effect he was having on me.
It was soon time to go to bed, and as Dad stood up, I stretched. Dad pulled me up, his hand catching mine, and we walked upstairs. We stood at my door, and Daddy asked me if I could kiss him good-night. I was puzzled until he retreated me against the wall, moving my arms behind until they were right behind my head, and then kissed me on my lips. Full. Wet. Tender. Just as I had imagined it would be.
Dad locked one leg of his around mine, balancing me from sliding forward, and teased my lips with his tongue. As soon as my lips parted, he was inside, probing, tasting, feeling... it was quite an exquisite experience. Every part of my body was alive, but my senses were now limited to touch. His touch. I closed my eyes as we tasted each other, and colors swirled around.
Neither of us noticed the need for fresh air, so intense had been the kiss. It wasn't the hard mashing of lips or senseless grinding of hips, but the sheer warmth in what we had shared was enough to fill the memory of a lifetime. We gasped for breath as we pulled apart, our lungs heaving, but there was this contented smile on his face, as there was, I guess, on mine.
"That was something," he said, obviously for want of something better to say.
"You can say that again," I concurred, still panting. My Daddy certainly knew his kissing!
"Okay," he replied. "I will. That was something."
That made us laugh. If ever there was any doubt whether I had fallen for this man, there was none now. I was head-over-heels, and gone hard at that!
"That's it, then," Daddy said, exaggerating his yawn. "I guess it's time to call it a night. G'night, love." - I loved the way he said it - "Sweet dreams."
"To you too, Pops. Love you." I didn't trust myself to kiss him once again, and so I just backed up until I was inside my room. Habit made me close the door even as Daddy was walking away, but I didn't lock my door. And I wasn't going to start now.
I took off the shirt and ran the back of my hand over my mouth. I could still sense the blood rushing from that incredible kiss that had seemed so short so long ago. I shook my head at my reflection. Girl, I told myself, it's hardly been a minute. And I was already wanting the next one.
I considered throwing on a nightie - I had never slept naked until then - but then ended up taking off my panties as well. On retrospect, I guess I must have been hoping that Dad would come into my room, as he had admitted he had, tonight... at that moment, though, I told myself it was too hot to wear anything to bed.
With all the turbulence - emotional and physical - that had graced my day throughout, I had assumed that sleep would just be a matter of falling into bed. As it was, I tossed and turned - but sleep was still a dream. I was thinking of Dad too much - every single memory of his touch was keeping me awake. Fingering myself was out of the question - without knowing it, I had made my body exclusive to Daddy.
It must have been close to an hour after I had come to bed, when I heard the quiet, unmistakable sound of the door creaking open. Assuming that it was Daddy, I was confused whether to let on that I was still awake, or find out what he would do now that walls had been broken down. I chose the latter option, knowing fully well that I wouldn't mind whatever he did.