Alana's Visit

Published by BarondeSade
Copyright 2013 BarondeSade

Feel Free to do anything you wish with this story...

Liability

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious and those involved in sexual situations are over the age of eighteen. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No responsibility or liability is assumed or accepted by the author for any claimed financial losses and/or damages sustained to persons from the use of the information used in this publication, personal or otherwise, either directly or indirectly. While every effort has been made to ensure reliability and accuracy of the information within, all liability, negligence or otherwise, from any misuse or abuse of the operation of any methods, strategies, instructions or ideas contained in the material herein, is the sole responsibility of the reader. By reading past this point you are accepting these terms and conditions and acknowledging that you are eighteen.

All the fictitious characters in this story who are involved in sexual situations are over the age of eighteen.

Alana's Visit

Howard smiled to himself. God, I'm acting like a kid on my first date, he thought as he put the bottle of Chardonnay on the table. I hope that Alana likes it. She's been away at college for six whole months now. I wonder if she has changed?

Too bad, Donna couldn't be home, too, but her career always came first with her. Just like tonight, she was in Atlanta attending a Real Estate conference. It seemed like there was a conference of some kind every other week. And she could easily have skipped this one because she had attended one on the same subject only a couple of months earlier. Sometimes it seemed like he was just a necessary accouterment to make it look like she had the perfect family. She put up the façade of having the perfect marriage, with two perfect children and a loving husband. But he knew the real story. She treated him like a piece of furniture that she could move around anywhere to suit her purpose.

And their sex life was the same with her giving in once or so a month. But even then it was a perfunctory offering to keep him from complaining all the time. Sometimes he felt like chunking it and moving on, but there was still Alana and Jeff. Alana was away at college in her freshman year and Jeff was a senior in high school. Well, as soon as they both were truly up and out on their own, then, then he would think about it...

Maybe he would confront Donna and sort things out. See if there was anything salvageable in their marriage. But not now. Tonight Alana was home from college and he was going to wine and dine her and treat her like an adult. Not the little girl he had sent off to college six months ago. Steaks, wine, and maybe a night club afterwards. After all, she was nineteen now.

Wondering just how much his little girl had changed in the six, short months he heard a car drive into the driveway. Hurrying, he put the finishing touches on the kitchen table and went walking into the living room just as he heard the front door opening and closing.

She's here. My sweet, little Alana is here, he told himself as he hurried into the living room.

Oh God, he thought to himself when he saw Alana standing by the front door.

She was so beautiful. A Goddess. The most beautiful girl in the world. No, not any more, he corrected himself. She was now the most beautiful woman in the world as she seemed to have blossomed into maturity during the six short months she had been away.

"Are you okay, Dad," she smiled at him, "you look funny."

"Oh, my, my, Alana," he burbled out, as his knees grew weak and he felt lightheaded. "Oh, Alana, you're, you're so beautiful,"

"Oh, Daddy," she giggled, reaching out and wrapping her arms around him. "You always did know how to make me feel so good."

He wrapped his arms around her and they stood there in the middle of the room hugging as if it had been years, not months since they had last seen each other.

Then, after a few moments, Howard suddenly became aware of his daughter's big, warm breasts pressed against his chest. He didn't remember her being so well endowed, but then, he had never really paid much attention to his daughter's physical attributes before. After all, she was his daughter and fathers didn't think about their daughters in that way. But, now, it was somehow different. And if he was any judge of women's apparel, he would swear that his daughter wasn't wearing a brassiere. It felt like the only thing covering her breasts was the soft, knit sweater she was wearing.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he slowly backed away from her, holding onto her arms, he ran his up and down her body.

"My, my, my," he murmured.

She had her hair pulled up in some kind of turban-like hairdo that made her look older, but to him she was still thirteen or fourteen with her beautiful, elfish face. Her big, brown eyes stared back at him innocently, but her full, red lips belied that sweet innocence. And the opulent swell of her breasts underneath the thin knit sweater proclaimed her newfound maturity, as did the curving sweep of her hips underneath the thin, short skirt she wore.

Finally, he let go of her and stepped back.

"You are beautiful, Alana," he swooned.

"Daddy," she purred, seductively batting her big, brown eyes, "You always did know how to make me feel all grown up."

"Well, you are all grown up now. Look at you," he smiled back at her.

Looking into her face, he didn't see the nineteen-year old girl he had sent off to college, instead, he saw an expectant fourteen year-old just back from her first prom, her face beaming with happiness and anticipation. Her whole face was lit up with the smile that beamed back at him. Suddenly, he felt his heart fluttering with an unusual excitement.

"Goodness, Daddy," she softly laughed, "you look like you've never seen me before."

"My, Dear, Alana," he groaned, trying to curb the strange feeling that had come over him. "I haven't seen you before. Not like this. Not the way you look tonight."

"What? Whatever do you mean?" she modestly asked him, standing up straighter and thrusting her breasts out a little bit more as a faint blush painted her cheek bones.

"I mean," he grunted, not able to keep from running his eyes up and down her body for a brief instant, "I mean, you're all grown up. You're a woman now."

"You really think so?" she grinned, stepping around him.

Laughing softly under her breath, she let the soft roundness of her breasts graze his arm as she did.

He couldn't tell if it had been a purposeful move on her part or just an accident fueled by his overactive imagination.

"Yes, I do," he nervously laughed, suddenly fearful of being alone with the beautiful creature that was walking across the room sensually swishing her hips from side to side.

"Where's Mom?" she nonchalantly asked, looking back at him over her shoulder as she set her purse down on the table and turned around to face him.

"Away at another conference," he said, strolling over to the table, trying not to let his disapproval of Donna's absence creep into his voice. "Atlanta, this time. Remember, I told you when you called last week."

"Oh, yeah, that's right, I must have forgotten," Alana virtuously smiled. "I see nothing has changed."

"I'm afraid not," Howard frowned. "Just more of the same."

"Well, don't you worry, Daddy," she softly laughed. "Now little Alana is here to take care of her Daddy."

"And it's about time. I really missed not having your smiling face around," he said.

"And where's Jeff?" she smiled.

"Boy, your memory must be going, because I told you that he was away at camp for another week," he said, nervously fidgeting with the tableware, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious that he and Alan were all alone in the house.

"You're right. I must be getting old to be so forgetful," she smiled with childlike innocence as she seemed to be reading his mind. "So it's just the two of us...here all alone."

"I'm afraid so," he told her, "but I'll try not to be a fuddy-duddy, stick-in-the-mud Dad."

"Oh, Daddy, you're not a stick-in-the-mud. Why, at college, I bragged all the time about what a great Dad you were," she laughed. "And I'm certain that we'll have a good time because I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that we do."

"Uh, okay," he answered, a little uncertain. "How does steak, salad, a potato, and wine sound? Followed by a night out on the town with your dear old Dad."

"The dinner sounds great, but," she paused, running the pink tip of her tiny tongue over her full, red lips, "I think I'd like to pass on the night out on the town and spend it at home with you. Okay? After all, Daddy, it's been six months since I've seen you and I've got you all alone to myself."

"Great," he beamed, stumped by her choice to spend the night at home with him instead of out dancing, "I'll just get the steaks going then."

She had never shown any interest in spending time with him alone before, he thought. But maybe being away at college had changed her somehow. Whatever, it was pleasant to find that his daughter now valued his company. And he wasn't going to rock the boat.

"I think I'm going to fix myself a drink, Daddy." she smiled, sauntering over to the bar.

"But, of course," he smiled. "Help yourself."

"I will," she said.

He didn't wait to see what she chose as he hurried out to the grill. Then, in a couple of minutes, she came wandering out onto the patio with two glasses in her hands.

"Whiskey and coke okay?" she asked him offering him one of the drinks.

"Sure," he said, taking the drink from her.

"Here's to a lovely evening," she smiled, clinking her glass against his and then taking a dainty sip of her drink.

"Cheers," he said taking a healthy swig off his drink.

Time seemed to flow like the fine wine he had bought for dinner as they drank and ate, chatting about this and that and before he knew it, dinner was over, the table was cleared and the dishes were packed away in the dishwasher.

"Thank you for a superb dinner," Alana said as she stepped up to him and put her arms around his neck. "I haven't felt this happy in a long, long time."

"I'm glad you feel that way," he smiled hugging her and feeling the warm glow of her body against his through the thin layers of their clothing. "But you're making me feel both happy and sad at the same time."

"What do you mean?" she asked him disentangling herself from his arms and taking a couple of baby steps back. "Why do you feel sad?"

"It's just that I sent my little baby away to college," he said, his eyes filling with tears as he tried to hold them back, "and she comes back home all grown up. I miss my little Baby."

"You don't like the grownup me?" she pouted, pushing out her lower lip and looking up at him with her big, brown eyes.

"Of course, I do," he laughed softly, reaching out and running his hand down over her softly-sloped shoulder. "But it is just different. I can't explain it. Of, course, I still love you, but you're not my little baby any more. That's all. I don't think daddies ever want to see their little girls grow up to be women..."

"I think I understand, but I'll always be your little baby," she said, turning slightly so that his hand brushed against the soft swell of her breast.

"Uh, uh, well, uh," he flustered, guiltily jerking his hand back away from her breast as if he had just touched a live wire.

Smiling mischievously, she picked up her drink, and took another lady-like sip.

"Is my room still the same?" she asked him, turning and stepping toward the stairway leading to the upstairs bedrooms, "or did Mom turn it into a sewing room like she was always threatening to do?"

"No, it's the same way you left it. Your mom is never around long enough to turn it into a sewing room. Besides, even if she did, she wouldn't know what to do with it," he laughed as he watched her stroll toward the stairs.

"You're probably right about that. I can't picture mom sewing anything," she laughed, crinkling up her nose and smiling at him over her shoulder.

"Your Mom is too busy with Real Estate to have time to do any sewing," he sarcastically said, following Alana to the stairs.

"I know," Alana said.

"You want to see it?"

"See what?" Alana snickered, stopping on the bottom step and impishly looking at him.

"Uh, see, uh, see your room, of course," he stuttered, stopping several feet from her. "What did you think I meant?"

"Oh, I don't know," Alana laughed out loud, seemingly amused at his discomfort as she started up the stairs.

Puzzled by his daughter's curious behavior, Howard followed the sway of her youthful, round hips with his eyes as she climbed the stairs.

"Aren't you coming?" she wanted to know as she paused on the landing waiting for him.

"Uh, sure," he mumbled, clutching the railing as he climbed the stairs.

Howard had a strange premonition that Alana was almost luring him down to her bedroom, he thought as he neared the top of the stairs. As if she had something else in mind. Something other than a visit to her old bedroom to reminisce about the old days. Or maybe he was just crazy, he told himself.

"I can't believe this," she giggled, taking his hand and tugging him down toward her bedroom. "Just think. Six months ago I was a little high-school girl getting ready to leave for college. And now, now I'm back. I'm back and I've learned so much. I feel so, so grown up."

"Well, what have you learned?" he asked her as she pushed the door open and stepped into her room, pulling him with her.

"Oh, it's just the same as it was when I left," she softly laughed. "Nothing has changed."

"Maybe your room didn't change," he solemnly said, "but you certainly have."

"I learned all kinds of things," she bubbled, letting go of his hand and pirouetting around the room like a ballet dancer.

"Oh?" he grinned.

"Yeah, I learned more than book stuff. I learned just how much I missed you. Daddy, I missed you so much and it made me so home-sick I cried," she said, spinning around, making her short skirt flair out, revealing even more of her long, luscious legs.

"Missed me?" he asked. "You never said anything. You never missed me before. And you never let on that you were going to miss me after you left. What happened to change all that?"

"It was just so lonely there," she went on finally stopping twirling. "I was lonely and I was afraid to, afraid to have anything to do with boys because, because, well you know."

"Know what?" he wanted to know, not sure he was following the drift of her story but he couldn't help but watch her big breasts heaving underneath the thin sweater while she tried to catch her breath. "As pretty as you are, you should have had to fight the boys off."

"I, I, well, it was just about like that," she said, plopping down on her bed and dropping her hands back and leaning back on her arms as she talked. "But they were, they were boys. Not a man like, like you. They didn't care about me, really. All they cared about was one thing. It was obvious what they wanted and I didn't want it like that."

"What, what do you mean," he gulped, feeling a strange sense of foreboding about the direction of the conversation.

What was she trying to tell him? And what did she mean that they weren't like him? He was confused.

"They, they didn't care about me," she said again. "All they wanted was one thing. And they didn't care how or where they got it. There wasn't any feeling and I didn't want it that way. Especially, especially for my first time. I wanted it to be special. Can you understand that?"

"What? Do you, do you mean, you, you're, you're a, a virgin?" he incredulously asked.

"Can't you believe that?" she fussed. "Why can't you believe that I, I'm a virgin?"

"I just, just never thought," he stumbled on. "You, you were always so popular and all the guys wanted to date you. I just assumed, oh, I'm sorry. I should've cared enough to find out, I guess."

"Oh, it's not your fault," she smiled. "I should have told you. But I was so miserable, I didn't know what to do so I just decided to come home and see you. I knew that I could count on you. You were always there for me when I needed you."

"I tried to be," he said, trying to sort through where she was heading.

"I know," she smiled softly. "You were always the one I came to when I needed anything. You always had the answer. You were always so wise. And even when you knew I was wrong, you would always be there to comfort me in the end. You were always there to teach me how it should be. To show me the right way."

"That's what Dads are for, Dear," he smiled, his heart swelling with pride. "I just hope that I can always be there for you. Wherever and whenever you need me."

"That's why I came home to you," she said, her voice so husky and low he could barely hear her.

"What? What's wrong? What can I do?" he asked her, confused by the erratic wanderings of her conversation.

"I want...I want you...you to be the one," she whispered.

"The one? I don't understand. What do you mean?" he asked, growing more confused and fearful with each passing second.

"I want you to be the one to, to, well, you know," she weakly smiled.

"No, I don't know. I don't understand. You want, want me to be the one, the one to what?" he asked her as alarm bells began to clang inside his head.

Could it be? Could she want him to do what he feared? His heart was pounding and his head was spinning as he contemplated the possibility. This was too much to comprehend. He must be wrong. How could he even think such a thing? She could never even consider what he was sickly thinking. It had to be a figment of his own sick, twisted psyche, because she would never allow such a thing.

"I want...I want you to be the first...the first one," she said, slowly standing up and turning to face away from him. "I want you to be my first lover."

Howard couldn't believe his ears as he watched his daughter standing by her bed with her back to him as she was fussing with the front of her skirt and sweater. Then, suddenly, to his shocked amazement, her skirt went slithering down her long, beautiful legs and puddled around her high heels. What was she doing? This couldn't be happening he told himself as she stood before him naked from the waist down except for a pair of whimsical white panties that barely hid any of her perfect roundness of her exquisite butt from his gawking eyes.

"Alana," he gasped, trying to catch his breath as she slowly turned around to look at him. "What are you doing?" he groaned out, but was unable to stop the spasm of electric excitement that fired off down inside his cock.

"Didn't you hear me?" she asked him, holding one arm under her beautiful, bare breasts and raising her other arm up to clutch hold of her turbaned hair. The sweater was still buttoned at the collar but was now spread open to reveal her breasts as they lay resting against her arm.

"Oh, my, God," he groaned unable to keep his eyes off her softly-quivering breasts.

They were the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen. He couldn't keep from gawking at them like some horny teenager who had never seen tits before. They were stunning. Big, round as saucers, tanned to bronzed perfection, so heavy they sagged down and yet still proudly swelled out in youthful exuberance. They were masterpieces. Remarkable works of art that brought tears to his eyes as he marveled at them. They were treasures of perfection with flawlessly round areolas of delicately pebbled flesh tipping each of the wondrous mountains of flesh. And the hard, little nipples were sticking out in obvious excitement as she let him feast his eyes on her bare breasts.