Chapter 4

Chastity looked into the room from the doorway. Good. He was sleeping. He needed sleep.

She moved on to another door, a door she hadn’t opened, but which probably led to another bedroom. Slowly, she pushed the door open and peered in. It wasn’t anything like her old room, in their old house. Nothing of hers was in there, of course, but she’d always had a good imagination, using it to supply the ‘normal’ her life was deprived of. The room was empty, which made it easy, in her mind, to go back in time. Her vision blurred and, suddenly, the walls were the same. The floor was the same. The scratches on the window sill were the same. Her old dresser was there, empty, now. That it was empty was fine. There was nothing in that past that she wanted to bring forward to the present.

Leaving there, she explored all the other rooms in the house. “Her” room was the only empty one. Everything else had been lived in for four years, and it had all been redone completely. One room, a small bedroom, had become his junk room. In the closet she found clothing that must have been her mother’s, things she’d left behind in their old house, and which he had kept. She changed into an old skirt and a tank top. They didn’t match, but she didn’t care. She didn’t have a bra with her, and decided to go commando, too. Being with Daddy made her feel ... sexy.

She thought about that as she found the ingredients to make tuna salad. Every girl contemplates having sex for the first time. That contemplation can be incredibly complicated and detailed, or it can remain more of a hazy question mark. Most girls come to the door that, if opened, means they will no longer be virgins, and most girls turn away from that door more than once.

Chastity had merely glanced toward that door in her young dating life. The concept of lying under a boy - or man - while he expressed his lust in ways other than giving her money had never seemed like something that would feel good.

Now, though, she gazed at the door, behind which lay her father. This was different, somehow. She’d had fantasies about him for years, and they had felt completely normal to her. Seeing him in the flesh ... actually holding his flesh ... wasn’t equivalent to those fantasies. It was akin to having lived in a black and white world, and then realizing there were colors, too.

She didn’t worry about it. Nor did she think too long and hard on it. She had known that imagining she was dancing for her father was “other than normal” but the other side of that coin was that she missed him. The memory of his smile and hugs had dimmed over the years, and substituting what she remembered of him onto the faces of Buster’s patrons actually made her feel good, somehow.

And now she had found him again. Now he was here. She could touch him and hold him and kiss him. She didn’t have to imagine his face anymore. She’d done private dances for him and seen the desire in his eyes. It was eerily similar to what she saw in the other men’s eyes, but behind that was the fact that he loved her. He cared about her. He had been searching for her. He would never leave her.

She didn’t care what the world said was right and wrong. She just didn’t care. It was that simple, as simple as teenagers make many complicated issues.

She’d held his warm, firm erection in her hand. It had felt substantial, enduring. It had represented his strength. It had also represented his desire, a desire that neither frightened her, nor made her feel uneasy.

She had never played with one of those.

Now she had one she could play with ... experiment with ... explore. This world with color in it was so much better!

Now, the thought of walking through that door was enticing. Yes, he was her biological father. But much more important was the fact he was her daddy, the man who loved her and would protect her. He had already protected her, and gotten knifed in the process. He would give anything for her.

And now ... she was willing to give him anything in return.

She stood, looking down at him. His penis was soft, now, bloody, as if it had fought a battle and lost, lying on the foliage of his pubic hair to expire.

She wanted to clean it, make it hard again, and bring life back into its ‘body’.

She felt a very uncharacteristic tingling in her nipples as she thought about playing with his penis. Those tingles drifted through her skin to a point behind her belly button, and then oozed to her clit.

That was familiar. Her clit had demanded attention lots of times. Now she slid her hand under her mother’s skirt and rubbed her vulva with two fingers. The other hand went under her tank top to find and squeeze her nipples.

As she stared at his cock, she remembered all the times boys had begged her to go down on them, or at least give them a hand job. She had always avoided going down that rabbit hole. She had girlfriends who had done both, and things always got complicated when they started giving in to those kinds of demands.

Now, though, she could do both of those. She tried to imagine what it would be like. She’d held it, so imagining moving her hand up and down its length was easy, but the other was too foreign. She knew they spurted. She’d seen that on porn videos. She imagined this one spurting ... because of her.

That got her going and she leaned against the door jamb, rubbing furiously until sweet release rushed through her.

Only after she was finished did she see the glitter of his open eyes. He’d awakened at some point. Maybe he’d seen her do everything.

No problem. In her mind it was no different than dancing for him.

The penis she’d been watching so closely moved, no longer lying limp on his fluffy, brown pubes. Her hand came from under her skirt, shiny with her fluids. It was completely unconscious when she sucked the two fingertips that had just given her a crazy good cum.

“You’re awake,” she commented. “What do you want for dinner?”

“It’s a little late for dinner. Besides, I can manage. You should go home.”

“Why? There’s nobody there I can have a conversation with. And somebody needs to look after you.”

“Trudy would kill me if she found out what happened today,” he said.

“Mom would have a hissy fit if she found out about a fraction of it,” agreed Chastity. “So let’s make sure she never finds out.”

“You can’t stay here,” he groaned.

“Why not? There’s an empty room here. I found some of Mom’s old clothes up in a closet in another room. I don’t know why you kept them, but I’m glad you did.” She did a pirouette for him.

“I don’t want you here,” he said, harshly.

“Yes you do,” she said, ignoring his attempt to rile her up. “You don’t have to say it, though. I already know it.”

“Chastity,” he groaned.

“Daddy?” She beamed. “I’ll rummage in the fridge. I remember you love leftovers. You probably have a ton of them in there.”

Again she turned and left. She turned fast enough that the skirt lifted, exposing her naked buttocks.

Bob sighed. He stood up, stiffly, and found something to put on. His wound was clean and stitched, but she hadn’t put a dressing on it. He looked in the trauma kit and found non-stick pads. He washed the stitches with hydrogen peroxide again, wincing as the gauze caught the ends of the sutures. He covered her work with the pad and taped it on. He went to the bathroom and drained his bladder. He washed his abdomen, legs and cock with water and, like his daughter, he chose something light and easy to slip into. Running shorts and an oversize T shirt.

He found her in the kitchen, humming as she worked at the counter. The urge to embrace her from behind, and cup her breasts, and grind his cock against her backside had to be overcome with conscious thought.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” he said, trying to center the conversation around something other than the fact that he had the hots for his little girl.

She looked over her shoulder. Her hair flipped as she did so, reminding him of how she used that flipping hair while she danced.

“Maybe I should go to college and become a nurse,” she quipped.

“You’d be a fantastic one,” he said, meaning it. Then, the thoughtless part of his brain got a word in. “It would be hard on the men, though.”

She abandoned the food and walked over to him. She lifted his shirt and said, “Hold this.”

He did so automatically and she bent over to inspect the dressing. Without any indication of what she intended, and with no shame at all, she slipped her fingers inside the waistband of his shorts and stretched the material out. She peered into the opening at his penis. It was flaccid.

“Just checking,” she said, letting the material snap back into place and standing up.

Bob just stared at her.

“I can’t be a nurse if it causes problems,” she said. “But, as you can plainly see, I don’t make men feel that way all the time. So maybe I can be a nurse!” She grinned.

“So what do you want to go to college to be?” he asked.

“Up to now, I wanted to be a lawyer,” she said.

“Wow. That’s impressive. But you said up to now. What has changed?”

“I’m pretty sure lawyers are expected to obey the law,” she said.

“So?”

“I’m not so interested in what the law says about loving my daddy the way I do.”

There it was ... the elephant in the room. Obviously he was more disconcerted about all this than she was. And she was willing to talk about it. Maybe talking it out would settle things and result in a more ... normal ... relationship.

“So tell me what you’re thinking about,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” said Chastity. “Lots of new things are going on in my life these days. It will take me a little time to process everything.” She raised her eyebrows. “Did you know it took me almost two weeks to get comfortable dancing? After two weeks, when I started imagining that all the men were you, it got easy. After that, it was just a job. It was a little like doing homework, except I got paid for it. Then you started coming and it got all crazy again. And now I’ve seen my first penis, and I even got to feel it. It was weird, but not because it was my first penis. And not because it was your penis. I’ve touched you thousands of times. This was just a different way of touching you.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” said Bob, having just as much difficulty processing things as his daughter was.

“You’d never hurt me,” said Chastity, looking surprised.

“That’s not what I meant,” said Bob. “If anybody found out you touched my penis, it would be big trouble.”

“Why would anybody find out?” she asked. “I’m certainly not going to tell anybody about it. Are you?”

“No,” he said.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is, I’m your father,” said Bob.

“I don’t think that’s a problem for me,” she said, her face calm.

“What?” He was incredulous.

“Sorry,” she said. “It just doesn’t freak me out that the first penis I touched was yours.”

“I don’t know what to say,” said Bob.

“Then don’t say anything. Let’s eat, instead.”

They ate in the living room, looking for something to watch on TV. He had basic cable, which yielded nothing of interest to either of them.

She got up and approached his collection of cassette tapes, stored in a big cabinet with lots of little cubby holes.

“You’re kidding,” she said, pulling one tape from the cabinet and examining it.

“You can find them at garage sales,” he said. “I guess they take me back to my youth.”

“You’re not that old,” she said.

“I was there when the first CDs came out,” he said.

She looked at others and then asked how to play one. Two minutes later the strains of Pink Floyd filled the room.

She danced automatically, and it turned into a tease show, where she didn’t strip, but almost exposed the good bits.

He got hard, and his loose shorts did nothing to hide the fact.

Eventually, she pressed ‘Stop’ and went to stand in front of him. She reached for his hand.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“It’s bedtime,” she said.

His protestations were ignored. It was as if she knew he was of two minds, and that she could depend on the one that was buried deep to be the one that she could control. He let himself be led to bed. When she removed his shirt and shorts, he growled and complained, but did not physically resist.

Wearing his wife’s old clothes, she got onto the bed beside him. She kissed his shoulder, just a peck, a sort of “I’m here, now” kiss.

Then she reached for his rampant cock, gripping it like this, too, was normal - expected, even.

“What are you doing, Chastity?” he asked, using her formal name. Maybe he thought that would remind her to be ‘chaste’.

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Dancing For Daddy

Lubrican

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