Michelle and I had been more relieved than happy when my daughter got married at the age of 18. Renee had been quite a problem child over the years and we couldn't control her.
I know that she had been an advocate of drugs, sex and rock 'n' roll since she first became a teenager. Many was the night (or rather early morning hours) that she came home under the influence of either drugs or alcohol with her clothes askew, leaving no doubt, at least in my mind, that she was sexually promiscuous. Hell, she was probably screwing the whole school!
Oh, Michelle and I tried; especially at the beginning of Renee's teen years. We even tried the usual counseling, and then therapy, all to no avail. At 16, she moved out with a guy who threw her out within a few months. She begged to come back home and of course, we conceded. Then there was a repeat with another guy, then a third.
When she was almost 18 she moved in with Eddie and although we doubted that she had calmed down, we kept our fingers crossed, hoping. Then, after a few months of living with him, she announced that she was getting married, and Michelle and I were starting to fall for the illusion that my daughter had matured.
Shortly after the marriage, however, we found out that Renee was going out to bars on those weekend nights when her husband was working in his band. Soon, they were battling. It was almost inevitable that the marriage was going to explode.
Realizing that this was happening, Michelle announced to me that she'd had it with our daughter. We both felt (knew) that her husband was putting up with all kinds of shit, and that my daughter was continuously threatening to leave him.
Over the years Michelle had threatened Renee that she would bar her from the house, and now she outright told my daughter that if the marriage broke up that she should not look to come back home.
When that inevitable break-up occurred, Renee came home. It was a Friday night and I was on my second beer when she walked into the house and announced that it was over. She told us how rotten her husband was, etc. etc. and that she had walked out on him.
Even though Michelle had often made her threats, I was totally surprised when she told Renee that she wasn't welcome to come and live with us.
That was when my wife and I had our blow-up. I just couldn't see my daughter trying to find a place to stay, god knows where, so I interceded and insisted that Renee be allowed to come home, at least until she straightened out her situation.
Michelle knew that those terrible mother-daughter battle royals were going to become an everyday event again and insisted that my daughter not be allowed back. Although this is only taking a few lines here, our internal war lasted a couple of hours, with my wife finally saying that she would not live under the same roof as my daughter. By then I had a few beers under my belt, and was feeling adamant about the whole thing.
Michelle could see that at that point it was no use fighting with me and told me that she was going to her sister's for the night and that I could come there in the morning to talk this thing out. I guess the alcohol was making me stubborn and I made no effort to stop her, saying that I'd talk to her the next day.
When the door closed behind I sat back on the couch and let out a deep breath. The frustration of the whole thing seemed to take the air out of me. Renee had gone into the kitchen to get herself a beer as I sat and tried to calm myself and clear my head.
For the next hour my daughter and I talked to each other, with me trying to make sense to her where she was going with her life. As wild as she was, I wanted so much for her to straighten herself out. No matter what, I had idolized this child for all these years (which was one of the reasons my wife was so frustrated with me, she felt that I should have been stronger in disciplining Renee).
I don't know when things started to go amiss that night, but I do know that I can't blame it all on my daughter. Even though she was my own flesh and blood, I have to admit that there were many times over the years that I fantasized about touching Renee's body, and even having sex with her. I can't say that it was an obsession but there were many moments when I caught a glimpse of flesh, or had a thought of Renee with some boy, or just saw her in some provocative position, and I let my imagination run riot.
So it was on this night. We drank together and sat across from each other. Why I suddenly began to think of my daughter as a female, I don't know, but I do know that I suddenly was aware that I was continually looking at her with thoughts of sex. I tried to shake it but I found myself frequently looking over at my daughter's chest or legs ... even at her lips ... with sexual thoughts on my mind.
And I could see that Renee was aware of my sudden interest. I saw the way her eyes studied my reactions and I saw that secret smile of satisfaction that you see on a girl when she knows she is being appreciated.
My daughter and I had been down this road before but had never acknowledged this potential problem to one another. I know that Renee saw me look at her at times in the past in other that a fatherly way. And on those times that I was sure that she was aware, I always sensed that she enjoyed my confusion. Indeed, in most of my fantasies about her I visualized that she would welcome my advances. I swear that there were times that my daughter's eyes bored into mine and that she was hoping beyond hope that I would approach her.
And now it was happening. My eyes ran over her legs to her chest to her face and back and forth eagerly. Then they were stopped by hers as our eyes locked. I would guess that we sat across, looking into each other's eyes, for nearly five minutes. We were both almost studying each other, trying to decide if the other was willing. I knew I should get up and take a walk about the house but there was a magnetism in the moment.
Then, to my complete surprise Renee opened the buttons of her blouse; slowly, her eyes watching me as if to see if I was going to object. As her fingers moved I wet my lips with my tongue. My mouth was suddenly very dry; too dry to speak. Of course I know I should have put a stop to what was happening, but an aroused man is a weak man. As the blouse parted I saw nothing but white flesh beneath. My young daughter wasn't wearing a bra. When the last button was undone she began to open her shirt all the way. Her small, well formed titties stood straight out, topped with lovely pink nipples.
My mouth dropped open as I stared at my daughter's tits. My breathing increased as I seemed to be struggling for air.
"Renee," I finally whispered, "Button your blouse."
She smiled softly as her eyes held on mind. I was almost in a panic. This was my own daughter, for chrissakes! She ignored my words and she slowly removed the blouse. Then, topless, she stood and slowly walked over to me, her eyes on me all the way. I offered no resistance as she then reached down and placed her slender hand on my lap, gently squeezing my cock.
"Dad," she said. "You want me as much as I want you. Come on."
I was frozen on the spot. I would have thought that I would have simply pushed my daughter's hand away and shown my authority by berating her, as that's what should have happened, right? I would challenge any man in that position to stop it. It's easy to say and easy to condemn others when you hear of these things, but when it's happening to you, it's totally different.
I sat, unable to move, as Renee unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my pants. Fear and lust were running rampant in my brain. I wanted to scream out for her to stop and at the same time I wanted to reach out and grab her and fulfill those repressed desires.
My daughter then stood in front of me and reached out her hands to mine as I sat there on the couch. Unable to refuse her I obediently obeyed, acting like a zombie as she pulled me up to a standing position. Standing only inches away from me, she pushed my pants and jockeys down my body to my ankles.
My cock stood straight out. I couldn't deny it any longer. I wanted to fuck my own daughter. What surprised me was that Renee wanted to fuck me too!
"Dad," she whispered, "Your cock is really nice. It's so big and hard. I really like it."
At her words my prick jumped. To hear my own daughter talking to me as a lover might do aroused me even further. To hear her talk to me about my "cock" excited me immensely.
She began gently stroking the length of it, her slender fingers caressing its hardness as she admired it. Then to my complete surprise, she gently dropped to her knees and knelt in front of me, her face inches from my throbbing manhood. I looked down at this erotic scene and realized that I was shaky from the excitement. My own daughter was in a position to suck me into her mouth! And she was going to do that! I was so far gone at that moment that if Michelle walked in on us I couldn't have stopped my daughter as she opened her mouth, and began to suck my cock.
Renee reached for my hands. "Sit back on the couch daddy. This is something that I think we both thought about for a long time, hah?"
I simply lowered myself back down as my daughter removed my pants from my ankles and slowly moved within my parted legs. I moved one leg up on the couch and left the other on the floor and I watched with anticipation as she moved her mouth onto my body.
.... There is more of this story ...