Chapter 13

I woke up happy and satisfied the next morning, content in the knowledge that I’d solved my sexual frustration problem. My legs were a little stiff, but Dad was ready to go for a run, so I threw on my running gear and strapped on my shoes. My stretching routine, which originally was just for Dad’s benefit and torment, actually did help loosen up my tight muscles. I did wonder if my legs were sore from running or the other physical activity I’d gotten up to the night before.

He had seemed less embarrassed watching me shove my ass in his direction or when I bent over so he could look down my top. He still did those things; I don’t think he could help himself. He just didn’t seem as bothered by it. It had become routine, so I needed to up the stakes, but I’d do that when we finished the run.

The previous night’s rain had cooled the temperature down just enough to make it feel brisk as our feet hit the road on the way to the park. Dad seemed to be a little sprightlier after his day off and managed to keep up with me as we entered the park loop. As my legs moved and my lungs filled with and emptied the air, I was glad I had gone out with Dad this morning. It felt like a valve had released all the pressure from me and I felt lighter on my feet. The only pain I felt was in my chest, as my nipples, which had been pulled on the previous night, felt sore against the confinement of my sports bra. It was a small price to pay for feeling so good this morning.

“You’re looking good, Dad,” I said as we made the first major turn.

“Thanks, kiddo. I’m glad you decided to do this. It’s nice to share something with you.” He smiled. His breathing seemed to be better, and he wasn’t panting like he had when we first started.

“I know, nothing like a little Daddy-Daughter time. I guess I haven’t been the easiest to deal with lately.”

“I wouldn’t say that. You’re growing up and you’ve got so much going on. I’ve never been a girl, so I don’t always know what you’re going through like your mother does, but know that I’m always here for you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said, as a pang of guilt washed over me. I never doubted my Dad’s love for me for a second, but to hear him be so open like that made me feel guilty about what I was doing.

We chatted some more about running and life. He seemed to open up more on this run than I’d ever heard from him before. He wasn’t a closed off man. He and Mom would usually discuss their issues, but I never really felt like I knew him beyond his work and parenting. This was a whole new side of him; one that maybe I was just starting to understand. This may have been what they tried to show me on the camping trip, but I was too grumpy to participate. I just wanted to sleep and tan on the beach, not go hiking or canoeing. Yet curiously, if it wasn’t for that camping trip and meeting Curtis and Riley, I wouldn’t be out with my Dad on this cool summer morning now.

Everything was going great. My body felt strong and relaxed, and Dad was by my side as we came around the final bend before the straight away to the park entrance. I increased my speed a little bit, just to see what Dad would do. I saw him glance over right before he matched then exceeded my speed, moving a couple strides ahead of me. I pushed myself a little harder to catch back up and pull ahead, but he matched me again.

We were now in a full-on sprint as we neared the entrance to the park. My lungs were on fire and my legs felt like they were full of battery acid as we raced to the gate. It may not have been the Olympics, but to us, it seemed just as important. Within the last few strides, I pulled ahead and crossed the imaginary finish line, and I pictured myself tearing through the tape. I slowed down, raising my hands in the air in triumph as I turned around to gloat in my Dad’s face, but he wasn’t there. I walked back past the entrance and found him hobbling on one leg, his hands on the other.

“Dad! What’s wrong?” I yelled as I ran towards him.

“It’s nothing, just a bad cramp is all. Good run, kiddo.”

“Are you sure? Should we take you to the doctor?” I was worried. My Dad wasn’t one to show pain, so it must have been bad.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I just need to walk it off.”

I watched as he tried to walk but he had a hard time putting weight on it. Every step he took seemed like agony, so I moved next to him and put his arm over my shoulder. I supported his bad leg while he used his good one, as we slowly made our way home. As we walked, the hand around my neck Dad used for support would dangle and occasionally hit my boob. I couldn’t help but giggle when it would happen, as it was the least of our problems, but I couldn’t not notice it each time it happened.

When we reached the front steps of our building, we took it nice and easy until we reached the top. Mrs. Beauchamp held the door as we entered, wondering what the hell had happened. My Dad just said he’d suffered a bad cramp, as I helped him up the stairs. While slow, it was easier to navigate the stairs up to the third floor. Dad was able to hold onto the railing to give himself some support while I helped him on the other side. Each step was a challenge and a struggle, but we eventually made it to our front door. I unlocked it and led him over to the couch where he slumped down, rubbing his right thigh.

“I’ll get you some ice,” I said as I quickly made my way to the kitchen to get a plastic bag and some ice from the freezer. I returned and placed it on the spot he’d been rubbing, right on the inside of his right thigh.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. I’ll be ok,” he said, trying to calm me down. I was breathing hard from stress and from carrying his butt up the stairs. I wish Mom was home, but she had gone into the office this morning. She would have known what to do.

“Do you need something else?” I asked as I paced around the living room nervously.

“Maybe a drink from the fountain of youth,” he said with a pained chuckle.

“Best we have is tap water...” I countered.

“Guess your old man is living up to his name,” he said as I handed him a glass of water. He took a swig and put his head back against the couch, his other hand still rubbed his thigh under the ice pack.

“Here, let me get that,” I said. I slipped my hand underneath the wet plastic and touched his fingers.

“Honey, I don’t...”

“Shhhh ... let me take care of you, this was my fault.” I moved his hand away and replaced it with my own. My fingers moved along his hairy legs, pushing deep to work out the knot. They slid back and forth in small circles, as I tried to apply enough pressure without causing more pain.

I sat on the floor between his open legs, as my hands worked. Tenderly, I moved around and around to keep the area supple. I hadn’t realized how far up my fingers truly were until they found themselves just inside the leg hole of his shorts. His head was back, and I hadn’t really thought much about it besides helping him, so I pressed forward just a bit more.

He winced once, when I found a sore spot, so I worked around that area. My fingers gently kneaded his muscles trying to revive my injured father. I must have been doing a good job because he looked relaxed, as his head rested against the back of the couch with his eyes closed. My hands continued to move around, just under the hem of his shorts. I wasn’t touching anything ... sensitive, but he unintentionally set out a soft moan.

“Does that feel good, Dad?” I asked, as I thought about doing the other side ... for symmetry,

“Yes, sweetie, that’s very good,” he moaned, as I let one of my hands move to his other leg to start a similar process. Both of my hands were now just underneath my father’s shorts, a few inches from the instrument that helped create me. I thought he was mostly oblivious to what I was doing ... until I noticed the growing bulge in his shorts.

At that moment, I should have stopped but I didn’t. I massaged both of his inner thighs, seated right between his legs and watched his monster grow to its full length. I was his daughter, and I should have looked away, but I couldn’t. It had to have been almost 8 inches long based on how large the tent was. I felt my mouth go dry as my eyes stayed locked onto his crotch.

My fingers had a mind of their own and pushed a little deeper into his shorts on either side. He didn’t try to stop me. He might not have noticed that I crept forward. I couldn’t help but wonder what my Dad was thinking at that moment. Was he just relaxed from the massage? Did he not notice the tower in his shorts? Did he forget that it was his daughter touching him and not his wife?

My hands moved just a little further up, one finger touched the crease where his thigh connected with his pelvis; I felt a few small curly hairs. My Dad’s head shot up from the couch, like he’d heard a gunshot go off, and he leapt off the couch. He landed on his bad leg which caused him to drop until his other leg caught up underneath him.

“Woah woah, I think that’s good there, Jane.” His voice was filled with panic, but his tentpole was still pitched sharply outward.

“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” I asked, surprised by his sudden movement.

“It’s just ... I ... I think I’m good now, thank you, sweetheart.” His face was red when he noticed his erection and he swiftly tucked it up into the waistband of his shorts.

“Daddy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” I tried to say but Dad stopped me.

“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. Why don’t you take a shower while I change, ok?”

“Do you want help to your room?” I asked, offering him my hand but he backed away.

“No, that’s ok. You really helped, Jane. I think I can take it from here. Go shower, you stink little girl.” He gave me a silly grin which made me laugh and I responded by sticking my tongue out at him.

“You’re the one who stinks, since I won the race,” I snidely remarked as I passed him on the way to the washroom.

“I call for an asterisk and I’ll beat you next time, brat,” he responded, and gave my ass a little swat. I couldn’t help it, but I let out a little moan when his hand made contact with me. It wasn’t loud and I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me, but I quickly fled to the washroom and turned on the water.

I looked at myself in the mirror as steam started to lift from the shower. What exactly happened in there, I asked myself. One minute I was done with all this, the next my fingers nearly touched my Dad’s cock. I was so mixed up and confused. I pulled off my damp running clothes and climbed into the shower. I wasn’t sure if the water would cleanse me, but it did give me an escape from facing him out there.