© Copyright 2004

"Let me be sure I understand you, Tara:" I said carefully, as my daughter waited, fearfully expectant, beside me, "You want to sleep with me, your father?"

She nodded quickly, shaking a tear loose to run down her cheek.

"A little while ago, when Angie asked me to sleep with her," I said gently, "I told her that was the greatest honor anyone had ever bestowed on me. Now, my dear, you have topped it."

She looked up at me, eyes brimming with tears, and said, with a little half-smile, "But..."

I smiled warmly back at her, "AND, I need to think, very hard, about this. AND I think we need to discuss it at length. This is a really big thing, Tara. Even bigger than me sleeping with Angie. I don't want to make any hasty decisions, either way, okay?"

"Dad?" Tara asked, timidly, as I started the car moving again.

"Yes, Honey?"

"Do you find me at all attractive?"

A quick glance told me the importance of my answer to that question. The fearful, expectant look on Tara's face said it all. No matter, it didn't change my answer.

"Tara," I answered tenderly, "from the time your breasts first started to appear, I've had to develop a mantra to keep from molesting you! Each time you'd call me into your room to help you decide on which dress to wear on a date, or to a dance, or when I'd see you so innocently parading your lingerie or bikini clad body in front of me. 'She's your daughter, dickhead! Your daughter!' I told myself that over and over, for all those years. I didn't want to make you too self-conscious by insisting that you not show yourself to me like that, but it was really hard not to make a pass at you. You were - are - so beautiful!"

"You - you're not just saying that?" hope lighted her face, "You really think I'm beautiful?"

I nodded sagely, then threw caution to the winds, "And sexy! I'd rather not go into detail, but let's just say you've already shared my bed on numerous occasions since your mom died."

I parked the car in the garage and followed Tara inside. She automatically headed for the loveseat in the Family room where we had had so many heart-to-heart talks as she was growing up. It was sort of our official, unofficial conference room. Just as she had done as a teen, (hell, at nineteen, even married, she was still, technically, a teen) she folded her legs under her and curled up in the corner of the loveseat. She wasn't much bigger now than she'd been at fifteen.

As I took my accustomed place at the other end of the well worn loveseat, Tara's face lit with a secret smile.

At my querulous look, she said, "Oh! I was just thinking - wondering how many of the nights I fingered myself to sleep thinking of you, you spent masturbating over thoughts of me!"

Now, it's strange enough for a father to be discussing the possibility of sleeping with his daughter, WITH his daughter, but to hear her talk casually about masturbating over his image - that was sort of a twilight zone feeling for me! I could almost hear Rod Serling's voice: "You are entering a dimension..."

I decided to change the subject, quickly. "Well, dear, you know that what you're proposing is incest."

"Father!" she looked indignant, "You're the one who taught me to think for myself! I know it's technically incest, but I also know that incest is wrong because it can lead to inbreeding, like in the royal families back in England. I also know you had a vasectomy after Teddy was born, so the probability of you becoming the father of an inbred son or daughter is pretty near zero."

Okay, I'd have to give her that one. Damn! Why did I have to be such a conscientious parent?

"Tara, what about you and Roger? I thought you two were happy together!"

"We are, Dad." she said, "I mean, have you ever LOOKED at Roger? Ever noticed how much he acts like you? You like him 'cause he's got the same hokey sense of humor as you. He looks people in the eye, and gives them a good, firm handshake, just like you. He's honest to a fault, even when it hurts, just like you!"

Tara sat up and put a small hand on my knee, "Only he doesn't have your... your... wisdom! He's smart, but he doesn't know all the answers! He's just the closest I could find to you!"

"Are you telling me you don't love Roger?" I asked.

"No, Dad," she replied pensively, "I guess I'm telling you WHY I love Roger. He may not be you yet, but by the time we have teenagers, I think he'll be very much like you. The problem is, I'm also in love with you."

I thought that over for a while, then said, "Tara, here's the thing. You can't sleep with me, or anyone else, without Roger's knowledge and consent. You know, as well as I do, that lasting relationships, like the one I had with your mother, are built on trust. If you can't trust Roger enough to let him into your innermost thoughts, and if he can't trust you to always be up front and honest with him, then your marriage is a sham. I know this is a subject that's hard to broach with a new husband, but it doesn't matter what the two of us want if we can't respect your life partner enough to let him in on the decision."

"You also know," I continued, "that if he doesn't consent, we can't do it."

"Why not?" Tara cried, "Why can't I decide for myself?! Why do I need his permission? I'm an adult, not a child!"

"Precisely because you're an adult, honey." I responded calmly, "And I said, 'consent' not 'permission'. The connotation is a little different. You need to respect your husband's wishes if you want him to respect yours. It's a give and take, Tara. Nobody counts, consciously, but in the back of our minds is a silent little bookkeeper who tallies up the things others do to and for us. Big things count more than little things, and this is a big thing. Anytime you get sexually or emotionally involved with another human, there is a tremendous potential for it to change your relationships with others around you. Those whose lives are most likely to be affected at least deserve the right to have a say in the outcome."

Tara heaved a heavy sigh and said, "You're right, of course. I do love him, and don't want to do anything to hurt him."

I wanted to believe that would end the issue, but I knew my daughter too well. When she got it in her head to do something, God help anyone who got in the way!

"Well," she said, "I came over here to clean this place up for you, so I guess I'd better get started. What are you doing?"

"Oh," I said with a sheepish grin, "I just wanted to put a few things away where I'll know where to find them before you hide them from me!"

Tara punched me on the arm and said, "You're incorrigible!"

A couple of weeks later, I called Tara up to ask her if she'd like to go for a ride. She didn't ride very often but being younger and more resilient, could pretty well keep up with me anyway. I bought her a road bike when she was in high school and she seemed to enjoy the riding, though now that I reflected on it, I never knew her to ride if I wasn't with her.

This time seemed no different than any other. Tara seemed eager to ride with me. "I'll just have Roger drop me and my bike off Saturday morning, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan!"

Tara normally drove herself over, since they had two vehicles and the bike rack was on hers, but I guessed that for some reason the other car was in the shop.

When they arrived early Saturday, Roger got out and shook my hand. I started to help Tara get the bike off the rack, but Roger pulled me a little aside.

"Tara told me what you and she talked about the last time she was here."

Just like that. No preamble, no embellishment.

"And?"

My muscles tensed. Roger was a good sized young man and he worked out regularly.

"And it took some heated discussion, but I finally came around to seeing things her way." He gave me a wry grin, "Your daughter can be quite persuasive when she wants to be!"

I grinned back, and said, "Yes, she can. Roger, I don't want to put you on the spot here, but I need you to be very explicit about what you're saying here, so there's no misunderstanding, okay?"

"What he's saying, Dad," Tara butted in, "is that it's okay for me to sleep with you."

I raised a quizzical eyebrow in Roger's direction. He nodded and said, "What she said!"

"You're sure you're okay with this?" I didn't really want to believe it myself.

"Ted," he said earnestly, "I can't keep my wife prisoner. The similarities between you and I haven't escaped me, you know. If she loves me, as I think she does, she'll come home to me. If she spends a little time making her father happy, who am I to complain? If she doesn't love me, it's better for both of us to find out now than later. Oh, and one other thing..."

"Yes?" I asked, getting tense again.

"I really appreciate you reminding Tara to think of me." He said, "She probably would have gotten to it eventually, but this way I can be pretty sure that, whatever happens, I won't be kept in the dark."

I nodded, then said, "I love my daughter, and whatever her incentive was for marrying you, I've never had occasion to think it was a bad choice. I'm proud to call you my son-in-law. All that said, however, I'm still not sure whether or not I'll go along with her on this."

I smiled and shook his hand again as he climbed back into their car and left. I turned to find Tara waiting expectantly.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well let's get moving!" I replied, "We're burning daylight!"

"You know," Tara said as we mounted up and took off at an easy pace, riding side-by-side, "you can be REALLY infuriating at times!"

I grinned at her and said, "I asked you over to ride with me, and that's what I intend to do. Was there some other reason why you agreed to come along?"

"Dad!" she cried, "I want to know if you're going to have sex with me or not!"

"Not just now, Tara." I replied, "And I'd appreciate it if you would keep your voice down! Most of the people in this neighborhood know you're my daughter! I'm going to think about it while we ride, and tell you when I've come to a decision."

"Oh, um, sorry about raising my voice," Tara said, "but this is REALLY frustrating!"

"I know, kitten." I replied gently, "But it's an important step. I'll admit to having procrastinated in the hope that Roger would put his foot down. Should have known that silver tongue of yours would win him over!"

We rode in silence for a while, neither of us enjoying it very much. I finally said, "I'm afraid, Tara."

She pulled up beside me and looked at me, puzzled.

"About what, dad?"

"If I'm not mistaken," I said, "Roger looks up to me somewhat, right?"

"Yeah." she answered, hesitantly.

"I've already set a horrible example by having sex with an underage girl." I said, panting a bit as we started up a little 'roller', "If I now sleep with you, implying that it's okay to have sex with one's daughter, and you and he have a daughter, will he think it's okay to take her to bed?"

Tara said nothing for a while, then, haltingly, replied, "Roger does look up to you, and he respects you. I can't say what the future holds, but I'd like to think the example you're setting for him is to consider each situation on its individual merits. Like you, I'd hope he'd make his decisions based on what's best for all involved."

"How did you get so smart?" I asked, only half joking.

"I don't know," she smiled, "maybe it's genetics, but I had a good teacher, too."

I tried to pretend, for the remainder of the ride, that I was still undecided, but we both knew I wasn't going to let my baby girl down.

We showered in separate bathrooms, and I took Tara out to dinner, partly to get us more in the mood, and partly to let the numbness from sitting on the saddle wear off.

When we headed home again, Tara was feeling mellow, though she hadn't had anything to drink. Her head lay on my shoulder all the way home, the way she used to do when she was younger.

I poured us each a snifter of Cognac before we settled down together on the sofa and Tara almost choked on her first sip.