A Faithful Daughter

The car was silent for a bit. It wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it was...electric. I felt something passing between us in the small space, and I knew that it wasn't just in my head. In my aroused state, I noted my father subtly adjusting his pants. I smiled, knowing that I had an effect on him.

He spoke again, his voice full of worry.

"I'm sorry if I've upset you, honey. I didn't mean to. I want you to always be able to ask about anything, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

He put his steady hand gently on my knee, in that reassuring way that he sometimes did. Without thinking, I grabbed it and held it with both of mine, sliding it up to my midthigh, which was still not nearly far enough according to my aching pussy.

"You don't know how happy it makes me to know that you think I'm sexy, Daddy. I don't always feel attractive...and sometimes I feel kind of fat and ugly. But you're the best and most handsome man I know, and if you think I'm beautiful, then I know I must be."

His face grew flushed, but he didn't move his hand for a while. For just a bit, I was content to imagine that I was his lover and that we were on a romantic trip together.

Soon, imagination wouldn't be enough.

* * *

We arrived in the late morning, greeted by the slightly dim light of fall. It was cloudy, with a brisk breeze coming from the ocean. Mrs. Wilkins, who owned and operated the bed and breakfast we were staying at, came outside to greet us. She didn't remember us, but we'd stayed here when I was much younger, and I recalled her as being a kind woman, soft-spoken and with a warm smile. Aside from some extra wrinkles, she was the same.

Daddy was pulling our cases out from the trunk when addressed me.

"You must be Will and Allie. I'm so happy to meet you and more than a little grateful that you decided to stay here for the weekend. I was worried that we wouldn't have any guests at all."

"So we're the only ones here?"

"Oh, yes. But don't worry, it doesn't impact anything. Breakfast is still included. You just have the run of the place so feel free to spread out or to pick a different room if you want. I stay just next door so knock if you need anything. Are you two married or..."

Mrs. Wilkins obviously thought that we were an Autumn-Spring relationship. The idea delighted me, so when Daddy opened his mouth to speak, I held his arm affectionately and interrupted him.

"No," I said, but then added mischievously, "we're not married. Not yet, anyway. We just needed to get away together. Isn't that right, darling?"

Daddy was too stunned to speak, but Mrs. Wilkins nodded knowingly.

"I quite understand. Being alone together in a place like this, well, it does tend to rekindle romantic feelings. Not to mention the libido."

She exaggeratedly waggled her eyebrows. It was so out of character for her "little old lady" image that all of us laughed heartily. After showing us around, she disappeared quickly out the door, probably thinking that we wanted some "alone time."

"What was that all about?" Daddy asked, suppressing a chuckle.

"I dunno. It just seemed like fun to play along with her, in any case. It doesn't do any harm to let her have her little thrill at thinking about a silver fox making love to his little girl-toy."

I couldn't believe I'd said the words, even as they escaped my mouth. Part of me wanted to rewind and delete them. Another part wanted to expound further on what good little girl-toy I could be. Thankfully, Daddy just found it amusing.

"Fine, silly girl. Have it your way. Honestly, as long as you're happy, I am. You don't have any idea how pleased I am that you wanted to go on vacation with me for your birthday. I was worried that you'd gotten too old to want to spend time with your old man."

The idea that I wouldn't want to spend time with him, or that he would worry about it made me sad. I never wanted that. I took his hand in both of mine and held it to my chest, close to my heart.

"That will never happen, Daddy. Never. I've been selfish, and I'm going to spend more time with you. I promise."

He flushed a little, and in the back of my mind, I was aware that it was because I'd pulled his hand onto my rather generous breasts. I was gratified that he seemed to enjoy them as much as I did having his hand on them. In any case, that was a side benefit. I was sincerely apologetic that I'd forgotten about him.

"You haven't been selfish, honey. You've been a normal, if unusually intelligent and caring, teenager. Growing apart is normal. Enough of this, though. You want to go for a walk on the beach? Or are you feeling hungry?"

"How about a walk and then food?"

I changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. The day was chilly, and the wind on the shore was strong. When we arrived, it was apparent that we were the only ones brave or silly enough to enjoy the ocean today. I supressed a little thrill at what someone could get up to out here, in broad daylight, with no one else the wiser. We walked together, my father and I, and for once I was the inquisitive one. I asked him about his work, got him talking about what he loved. He led a team of engineers, and they designed as well as prototyped green energy technology. He was a natural leader, and he always minimized his contributions to emphasize those of his team. I won't pretend that I understood it entirely, but he explained it in a way that didn't make me feel dumb or like he was talking down to me.

Then he asked me about college, which was a bit of a sore subject between us. I'd gotten into several of my picks, including one local university, but I hadn't really made any plans as to what I wanted to pursue. He tried not to be pushy, but I could tell that he worried about my future. I'd been wishy-washy for a long time about future career paths, and while I knew that I could start without a major, I needed an ambition to follow. Something to inspire me. As it turned out, I did kind of have some ideas, but I was a bit afraid to share them. Something in me believed that he wouldn't find them serious enough or worthwhile. So I hedged a little by carrying on the fantasy of being more than a father and a daughter.

"I'll tell you about my plans for college, but you have to hold my hand."

I said it without thinking, but when he looked at me with surprise, I just gave him my patented Good Girl Eyes. I expected him to back down, but instead, he took my small hand in his larger one. I was aware of how warm it was, of his calluses, and mostly of how gentle he was. I felt myself blushing.

"All right," he said, with fake annoyance, "I've paid your price. Now you have to spill your secrets.

"Um...ok. I...I think I want to get a business degree and start my own enterprise. I've thought about that for a while, and I love the idea of hiring people, planning it out, and making it work, you know? I was really just stuck on what kind of business. For a while, it was a restaurant or a bar, but the more I looked into it, the more miserable it looked. Then I thought about trying to get in a franchise, but that seemed kind of soulless. I think...I think I want to open an art gallery."

We walked in silence for a moment. I was worried that he would find some fault in my idea, or worse, dismiss it as childish. That being said, I enjoyed the feel of my hand in his, the safety of being with my father here, on this lonesome beach.

"That's a fantastic idea. It'll be hard, but I think you already know that. It's effortless to see, you know, in my mind's eye."

"What is?"

"You. Running a gallery. The place would be somewhere downtown near those upscale bars and restaurants. I see you wearing a sharp dress, explaining the pieces to prospective buyers at some upscale wine and cheese thing. You'd have trouble keeping men away though, seeing as how you look like a Greek sculpture yourself."

"Daddy!"

He laughed.

"Sorry, I meant to say that you'd have trouble keeping men AND women away. Especially once you show the world how successful you are."

I rolled my eyes at his flattery, although secretly I was quite pleased by it.

"So...so you don't think its a dumb idea?"

He stopped and looked me in the eye, then pushed some of my unruly hair, blown by the wind, behind my ear. The gentleness and intimacy of his touch made me shiver.

"No, of course not. Not that I'd tell you what to pursue in any case, but I really could see you being successful at that. I'm proud of you for thinking of it."

We stood like there for a moment, after he said it. I know that I had a big dumb smile on his face, and I looked up at him. For a moment, our gazes met and said more than words could. He leaned in, maybe to kiss me on the cheek, but I didn't let it get there. I went up on tiptoes and kissed him straight on his lips.

Oh, god, the feeling that ran through me. The feel of his soft, warm lips on mine, his hands suddenly on my sides, not pushing me away but holding me close. I felt my full breasts just barely push into his chest, my nipples hardening into pebbles, my hands on his abdomen.

It was over quickly, but I could tell that he was just as shocked as I was. He could have jerked back, made a big deal out of telling me how inappropriate this was, but he didn't. He didn't try and joke it away, either, like I expected. Instead, he just took my now-sweaty hand in his and continued walking. He wasn't ignoring what happened so much as accepting it as a natural part of our walk together. I was suddenly overwhelmed with feelings for this man. I leaned into him, and he put his arm around me protectively.

"I love you so much, Daddy," I said, my voice breathy and weak.

"I love you too, silly girl," he said, his own husky.

There was no denying this thing between us anymore, I realized. I could either resist it or kindle it, and I knew that the fire building inside me would not be quelled.

* * *

We walked in silence and eventually headed back into the small downtown. Daddy winked at me and led me into a small diner. It was full to the brim with 50's style, complete with red vinyl and spinning seats at the counter. He led me to a booth.

"Do you remember this place?"

I blinked, looked around, again. I did.

"This was where I loved to eat during...the last vacation with...with Mom."

I suddenly realized it. I must have repressed the memory. Well, not precisely repressed it. I remembered the trip, it was lovely. Mom and Dad were happy and romantic together, and they let me explore the dunes and shops and generally have wholesome fun. It was a really great vacation. What I'd repressed was that it was the last vacation we'd ever had together and that it was here, to this town.

"Yeah. We came back to this town a few times, just the two of us, but it never felt right coming back to the restaurant without your mother. You both loved the fried food and the ice cream. Your mother never allowed herself such luxuries at home, always worried about her appearance. She always wanted to be...well, appealing for me. But she never needed to worry."

"Are you...ok with being here now?"

"You know what? I am. I think that...there are a lot of things that I've denied myself that your mother would want me to enjoy. I think...I think I've denied some of those things to you too, and that's not right. I'm sorry."

For a moment, my heart leaped into my throat. I didn't think that he was implicitly or explicitly saying that us...together...was ok. But I could see him wavering on the brink of accepting the idea of romance beyond Mom, and that was an excellent first step.

We ate burgers together, and I didn't order any fries of my own but stole some from my father's plate. Eventually, I'd eaten most of them, and he slapped my hand playfully.

"Why didn't you just get your own?"

"Because yours are forbidden, and that makes them taste so much better."

As I said the words, I dipped another purloined fry in ketchup, and then slowly licked it off before taking the whole thing in my mouth. Daddy couldn't look away, and I felt like the sexiest woman alive. Then he reached over, and I felt his gentle finger at the corner of my lips, cleaning away some ketchup that had escaped my mouth. He cleaned his own finger, in an off-handed fashion, sticking it in his mouth and sucking it clean.

My breath caught. I felt my expression getting more serious, tense. Daddy kept smiling. It wasn't the warm one that I'd become used to. It wasn't cold either. It was...hot, and full of hunger, like his gaze, was a fire, and my body was just so much dry wood and tinder, ready to catch.

I knew then that he was playing the same game I was. Maybe it was just one of dares and tricks. We could pretend to be together. We could hold hands. We could even make little flirtations over lunch. But we both wanted more, and I really wanted to see where this went.

After we finished, Daddy paid and retook my hand, and we ambled down the street. He went into every shop with me, gave me feedback on all the things I was interested in, and offered to buy any and all of it. He seemed to think that it being my birthday trip meant that he had to spend extravagantly on me

Eventually, I settled on some cute earrings and a necklace, with parts of it made from seashells, beautiful and iridescent. They were beautiful and irregular and unique. They felt right, like an expression of my emotions. They were cheap, too, which I think bothered the man who wanted to splurge on me.

Price didn't matter to me though, what I wanted was his...attention. And he was more than happy to give it. After dutifully following me on my shopping whims, I took mercy on him and suggested we go back to the B&B.

Our rooms were tiny, the beds old and beautiful, with oak frames and large, soft mattresses. I could tell that Daddy was tired and was heading for a nap. I saw my opportunity. After he had changed and laid down, I came in, now in a simple loose tank top and shorts. On the surface, very mundane, but as I moved and the fabric shifted, they revealed as much as they concealed. Hints of my full breasts were exposed on the sides, my curves displayed as I moved and stretched.

I was a predatory little minx, and my father was my prey.

I waited until he was sleeping, eyes closed, peaceful. He lay sprawled on his back, lean muscular form on display. It was chilly outside but warm in the cozy little cottage, and he wore simple boxers, as was his preference. He lay deliciously exposed on the bedspread, without even a sheet to cover him. I came into his room and lay down next to him, leaving space between us. He looked up in bleary surprise but was not upset. Before he caught himself, I saw his gaze drive to open side of my tank top. I smiled at him, coy and welcoming.

"Do you mind if I sleep next to you? The mattress in my room is a little lumpy, and I'm tired too."

It was a lame excuse, and I knew it, but I was already in his bed, and I knew he wouldn't want to just kick me out.

"Sure, silly girl. Just, uh..."

"Just what, Daddy?" I asked with false innocence as I snuggled up next to him, resting my head on his chest.

"Uh...nothing. Sleep well."

I hugged him, pushing my whole body against him, draping my leg over his and pressing my full breasts into his side. I forced myself to relax physically, but internally, I was nervous, tense. This is where he could reject me, push me away, be disgusted with me.

Instead, he put his arm around me. I felt myself grow tingling and sensitive, protected, and safe in his strong embrace. I wanted more, but I was still honestly inexperienced, so I allowed myself to relax and fall asleep.

I was having a dream of something dark and primal, luring something male and baiting it. Angering it until it pounced. I woke up, sweaty, confused. I was moving my pelvis already, wet from the warm friction against my father's muscular leg. I was breathing hard, in desperate need, but I forced myself to stop. This was...too vulgar. In my naive mind, my Daddy would never be lured by someone behaving like a little slut. I felt that I needed some kind of magical sophistication or worldliness.

But I didn't.

When I stopped rubbing against my father, I could better be aware of my surroundings. I could hear and feel my father's heartbeat, much faster than a resting man's should be. Then I saw it. His boxers were tented by his erection. And it was not a small tent.

I looked up, to see where his attention lay and discovered that my hair was stuck to my forehead by my own sweat. My father gently moved it out of my eyes. There could be no doubting the heat in his gaze, the depth, and power of his longing. I felt suddenly like I had vastly underestimated his need. I was just a little girl again, a morsel before my father's appetites.

"Allie," he said, softly, with hoarseness of desire, "baby I love you. I love you so much. I know...you're feeling the same thing that I am, right now. I've tried to be a good father for you, tried to keep what I felt for you deep down and away. I thought...I thought if I could last until you left for college...that everything would be all right somehow. You'd fall in love with someone, bring them home. Be safe from me."

"Daddy, I have fallen in love with someone. I've fallen in love with you. And I am safe with you. I...oh god...Daddy, I want you. I love you, and I want you to be my first. Is that so bad? For a girl to be with a man who truly loves her? I don't care that you're my father...and I do. It...it makes it feel special...

"Allie, you are special. It's just...there isn't any going back from this step. And I don't want to hurt you or move too fast..."

I smiled at him. It was sincere and adoring, and I saw it reflected in his own soft expression.

"Well...um...maybe we could go slow then? I...I don't know how to please you...yet. So you could show me? Please? Please show me how..."

My father lost the last of his resistance then, at least for the moment. He pulled me into a kiss, a real kiss. For a moment, our mouths explored each other lazily, gradually increasing in intensity. Then, with a strength that would brook no resistance, his powerful hand grasped my ass, forcing me up, level with him. He left his hand there squeezing and releasing. I began to feel like I was no longer in control of my own body, grinding against him once more.

I felt his hard cock, constrained by his boxers and trapped up against his belly, and I was truly lost. I slipped my tongue into my Daddy's mouth. It was as though a dam had burst inside of him. His other hand, which had been gently caressing my hair, now squeezed and held my breast. It was the first time anyone had touched me like that. He wasn't rough, but he certainly wasn't gentle. I felt his desire barely held in check.

I felt my nipple stiffen against his palm, and then he reached under my shirt and pulled it from me. I raised my arms and let it go. His hand was back on my chest in an instant, and I moaned, loud and insistent as he gently pinched my nipple.

I moved my own hand then, from his chest to...to his cock. It twitched under my small hand, and he groaned. It was loud and animal, and I wondered if he had made that noise the night that he had made me.

Although I could feel his need in the way he thrust his cock into my hand, I could tell that he wasn't ready for me to please him yet. In fact, he took my hand off with his. I looked up at him, confused and a little hurt. I was ready to love my Daddy. Why wouldn't he let me?

But he just smiled and let his hand drift from my chest to my stomach, which fluttered under his caress. I thought he was going to ask me if I really wanted this again. I was so wet, so ready, so needy. I would have done anything for him just so he'd make me feel good.

Then he slid his hand, agonizingly slowly, into my shorts. I wore no panties, so his hand passed through my dark, curly thatch to my slick, wet sex. My labia and clitoris were swollen and so sensitive as to almost be painful. I quivered and cried out as he simply put his hands on my lips.