At the Gras...

"He obliged, and by the time we were finished, he had touched every part of me. The funny thing was that it left me excited, not violated. I laughed when Dad asked for a kiss as payment, thinking that he was joking, but he quickly proved that he wasn't by taking the initiative himself. Not that I objected or anything - I enjoyed it as much as he did...

"Nothing else happened for the rest of the day, although I could feel his eyes on me wherever I went, and the thong wasn't anything to write home about - for all practical purposes, I was walking around in the flesh. I could tell he liked that.

"I have something of a reputation among the guys; it was nice to know that even grown, married men found me sexy enough. That my Dad was starting to lust was something that was off the top, no pun intended, and it was getting me wet the more I thought about it.

"We finished dinner early that night, just the two of us, and I had slipped into a thin summer dress, much to Daddy's obvious disappointment, but one that was translucent, so he wasn't totally deprived of anything. He went outside with a bottle of wine while I decided to end the day with a paperback romance.

"I think it was around nine or ten when he started to bang on my door like crazy. I had just washed my face, and some of the water that had splashed onto my dress had rendered those spots transparent, but I wasn't too shy about the fact that my nipples were clearly visible. That, Jack, I guess was the last straw for my Dad. He was drunk a little, and he lost it when he saw me like that.

"The next thing I knew, I was on the bed, pinned underneath his weight, and with my dress around my waist. My panties were literally torn off, and the more I struggled, the rougher he became. He ripped my dress off, just like that, and flung it into the fireplace. I was completely naked, about to be raped by my own father, and I realized it was something I had always wanted.

"I mean, there's always been this fantasy that I've had to be taken by force, and another one was to have sex with my Dad, and when both of them converged into one reality, I knew I was hooked. I pretended to be wild just so that he would use more force, and... I have to tell you, Jack, it wasn't rape. I did want it, and Dad's been very nice after that. That one night was just that one night - it didn't happen again."

"I won't judge your father," I promised. "Besides," I added with a knowing smile, "from what I've heard, the poor guy just didn't have a chance."

"Thanks." She was silent for a moment, relieved or reliving the memory, and then continued where she had left off. "It was so mind-blowing I can't describe it even now... you've had sex, right Jack? Don't answer, it's purely rhetorical - take your best experience and multiply it by a few hundred times, and you get an idea of how I felt.

"We slept together that night, but it wasn't until the next morning that Dad realized what he had done. I woke up to the sight of his sobbing self, crying out that he wanted to shoot himself... that is, until yours truly told him it had been great, when can we do it again? You should have seen his face, he was so goddam shocked he couldn't even reply. Then it sunk in that it was a logical extension of our flirting, but it did take longer to convince him to go with the flow... at least till the end of the week.

"The week was over before we knew it, but the affair was far from it. We actually dreaded having to go back home so soon... we overstayed for another week, so Mom came up to see what was engaging us..." She made a plop! sound. "And she caught us. Thankfully, Dad and I managed to talk some sense - I admit, our sense - into her, and finally she agreed." Sasha gave a derisive laugh. "Like she had a choice...It was either the both of us or neither. She chose to suffer our affair.

"That, Jack, is my story in a nutshell. Dad and I've been carrying on since then, and when Mom's not around, we experiment. Sometimes, though, we include Mom too, just for double-teaming her, and although by the end of the session, she claims to decide never to join us again, she can never say no. Then again, we don't invite her too often."

"So, basically, at the end of it all, you and your father have an active sex-life while your mother can only dream of one... and she doesn't mind?"

"That's about the length of it. Part of the deal with us not moving out was that she shouldn't interrupt or cut in on our time. Besides - you've seen my mother, haven't you?"

"Once, I think." I remembered her vaguely. Not too much to look at, not too bright, and definitely on the heavier side of the scale. It was hard to imagine her as a wet-dream at any point of time, much less the present.

"She doesn't sleep around, and I doubt she could even if she wanted to. She's your typical housewife, you know, plodding, unimaginative... Dad's the opposite. He loves the challenge, wants adventure, change... he's still trim and young. Mom knows this; she was careless after I was born, and she's paying the price for it.

"Don't get me wrong, though. I love her. And except for Daddy, I could give anything up for her. She's a terrific mother, a really good friend... but as a wife, as a physical playmate, she sucks. And she's accepted the fact that I am her husband's new sextoy. And, to her credit, she's never butted in... I really appreciate her for that."

"Let me get this straight," I put in, "You are sleeping with your father, so he doesn't want to sleep with your mother anymore. Then you let her join you occasionally, then humiliate her - I gather that's what happens because she isn't too happy at the climax, pun unintended - then say that she is one of your best friends, a very good mother... something's inconsistent there, isn't it?"

"Not if you are in my shoes, it isn't. In fact, like I mentioned earlier, it's the perfect arrangement. I have my parents. And a live-in boyfriend... Dad has a teenage toy who doesn't mind anything he does to her, and Mom has the two of us, her only loss being her non-existent sex-life which we sometimes compensate... Not too bad, wouldn't you say?"

"When you put it that way," I conceded, "It makes a hell of a lot more sense than it should."

"That's exactly what Ronnie said... you guys telekinetic or something?"

"Tele-pathic," my daughter corrected.

Next on their list was Victoria's Secret, a boutique on the fourth floor, but by the time we got there, the shutters were down. Thankfully, though, a nearby store was open, one that advertised everything from lingerie to wedding gowns, everything in between included. There was a single person inside the store, probably giving the last look-over for the night. She was a young woman, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt that was totally unbuttoned and a slitted skirt.

She smiled when she saw us. "Looking for something?"

"Do you have anything in their sizes here?" I asked, indicating the two women with me.

"Sure," the woman replied, smiling at Ron and Sasha in turn. "Like the sign says. Anything from underwear to Alaskan coats... anything specific?"

"Bikinis," answered the girls in unison. "The smallest ones you've got."

"Small enough for a toddler," the shop-owner joked. "But I am sure you might probably tear those things apart... This way, please."

I started to follow them, but Ronnie stopped me with a hand to the chest. "No, you wait here," she whispered, "Sasha and I will model them for you."

"Cool," I remarked. Fine by me. The young woman who ran the store gestured me towards a sofa by the entrance.

Less than five minutes later, she was back, smiling sweetly at me. Her open shirt weaved about her, her breasts threatening to pop out at any second, when she extended her hand. "I am Brenna," she introduced. "My Pop owns this shop."

"I am Jack, and by the time you close tonight, you might not have anything left to sell. My daughter's a nut when it comes to clothes."

"Your daughter?" the girl looked shocked, or at the very least, very surprised. "You are a father - I mean, you are old enough to be their father?"

"That's the second time today that someone's handed that line to me," I remarked with a smile, duly returned again, "And besides, only the blonde is my daughter. The other's her friend."

"It's really unfair, you know," Brenna pretended to pout, "You must be what, thirty-six, -seven? Thirty-eight max?"

"Guilty," I held up a hand, "Somewhere there."

"You shouldn't look so young, you know. Hell, there are guys in my brother's class who look older than you..."

"Thanks, Brenna, but it's not just the looks; you've got to feel young. That's my secret." Like I was some big-shot psychological guru or something. She laughed, and it had a pleasant ring to it.

"Too bad," Brenna added, giving me a once-over. "I don't have to be home until midnight... give or take a few hours." Her husky tone left nothing to the imagination.

"I have to," I lied, politely rejecting any offer for companionship, "My wife would kill me if I was late a minute over twelve..."

"Somehow," Brenna said as she sat beside me, "I find that hard to believe." But she left it at that.

We chatted for around five minutes, mainly idle talk, and I guess it would have been different had Brenna thought that she had a chance with me. Absently, I compared her to Ronnie. Ronnie won, again...

"You want to peek in on how Veronica and Sasha are doing?" she asked suddenly, just out of the blue following a lull in the conversation.

"Huh?"

"They are in the changing room right now," Brenna explained. "I heard them go in just a few seconds ago. There's a storage room next to it. And there's a small hole to peek through. Why don't you give it a try?"

"I won't - I shouldn't... Thanks for the offer though."

"No, I am serious. You are the first Dad I've come across who's turned it down flat so fast."

"As much as I would love to," I confessed, "I won't because the risk is too great. Besides which, it is wrong." Both of us giggled at how ridiculously naive that latter reason was.

Just then, the phone rang. Brenna excused herself as she made her way to the instrument. "Hi, Steve," she said into the phone, "Hold on a minute, okay?" She turned to me and smiled sweetly. "Go ahead," she said softly, "I won't tell."

I shook my head. Brenna shook the receiver slightly. "You are not the only one who needs privacy. Please." She gestured towards the direction of the storage room.

On retrospect, I have to admit that it never even crossed my mind that I could have just waited outside - instead, I made a beeline to the storage room. Thankfully, the door was unlocked. I stepped into the small space, looked for the peephole before realizing that I had to close the door before I would find it. In the darkness, I could see a thin cylinder of light apparently piercing the wall around waist-height.

Even as I bent down, I could hear voices from the other side. It took me a couple of additional seconds to focus on the sounds and sights.

The hole was big enough for one eye, and as luck would have it, my daughter was at the farthest distance from the peephole, thereby the perfect object. I was just in time to catch her undoing her skirt and drop it to the floor. Her t-shirt, I noticed, was already off, and within seconds, her black panties - lacy ones, I supposed - joined the pile on the floor.

Ronnie stepped out of the pile of clothes, mesmerizing in her grace and beauty, and I had to will myself not to make any sudden moves. Her pussy, exposed to my vision for the first time in a very long time, was bald to the point that I could feel the light was reflected off them. Her legs, trim and lithe, were perfectly sculpted, and in a rare moment of sexual levity, I figured God had used a computer to create her.

Her being my daughter.

"... don't you admit that you find him sexy and attractive?" Sasha was saying. It was only then that I remembered that Veronica was not alone. Sasha was as naked as her friend, but now, neither was making any move to cover themselves. Instead, as it turned out, it was time for a heart-to-heart talk between the two.

"Come on, Sasha, don't be an idiot," Ron shot back. "It's not the kind of thing you tell your father. Besides, it will make me look like a fool."

"No, it won't," Sasha insisted, "And he's never going to think you are a fool. He is just as attracted to you as you find him attractive, if not more..."

"He is not!"

"He is so! If I hadn't interrupted when I had, you two might still be downstairs, making out like teenagers."

"He was just caught up in the heat of the moment. What with all the tickling and the physical contact... then seeing my tits..."

"In that case, hun, it would have made more sense for him to make his moves on me, not on you. Maybe it's not obvious to you; maybe it is and you don't want to admit it. Face it, dear, your father has one big crush on you, capital C-R-U-S-H."

"Okay, so it's a crush he has on me, like the one I have on him. So what?"

"Honey, a crush is purely one to the other. In your case, it's love. Look at the writing on the wall, dear, and tell me if two mutual crushes do not love maketh."

This time, Ronnie's reply was not so swift. But it came, and it was denial all over again. "But... I am still his little girl. That's how he still treats me, like his Princess."

"You are no longer his little girl, and believe me when I tell you that no one is more aware of the fact than your father. I can see it in his eyes, Ron, you are his darling now. It's obvious in his face, everytime he looks at you... what have you got to lose?"

"Besides a father, you mean?" Even though she was still cynical, Ron's bite seemed to have lost most of its venom.

"Look, if you are too afraid, I'll talk to him. I'll ask him how he feels about you. I'll seduce the truth out of him if I have to. And I can tell you right now he's gonna admit that he's got it bad for you."

"I'll talk to him."

"That's a good girl."

"But I need time -"

"You don't," Sasha hissed. "Tonight's the perfect time. There's this chemistry between you, and you are going to lose that if you wait too long. Go ahead... tell you what! Why don't you ask him to come in right now, say that you can't decide between these two suits, and ask him if he would mind giving an impromptu assessment. I'll lock the door from the outside. The rest... figure it out on your own. Use your own words to expose your feelings.

"Just tell him the truth."

I held my breath until I heard my daughter say one word. "Yes."

I stepped outside just a second before the door to the dressing room opened and Sasha stepped out, wearing a wraparound. "Ja-" she started to call out before she spotted me, "Oh! You are already here. Ronnie wants your input on something - why are you sweating?"

"Must be the humidity," I lied for the third time in the day, not exactly a record by any means. "Why?"

"We couldn't decide on the best bikini to buy, and we didn't want to buy 'em both, so..." Sasha steered me into the dressing room before I could even object - not that I wanted to anyway - and the door closed shut behind me before my breath was out.

I had seen Ronnie in various bikinis over the years, but none that she had worn was as exciting as the one she had on now. It was a simple design, two triangles connected by strings, with a bottom that was little more than a shrunken thong. It was light blue in color, the color of her eyes, and went with her tan flawlessly.

My daughter gave a full twirl, and I noticed that her back was practically naked even at this close a distance, and asked, without meeting my gaze, "How is it?"

"The girl or the bikini?" I asked, then continued without waiting for a reply. "If you ask me, the girl is a compliment to the bikini..."

"Thanks, Daddy, that's so sweet," she said after a pregnant pause, obviously surprised by my sincere reply. "But there's this other suit I want to show you... I can't make up my mind." She pointed to another set on the dressing table, this one a fiery orange single-piece suit that I was sure didn't leave much to the imagination.

My daughter pivoted on her heel so that her back faced me and reached behind her as if to untie her top. Since she couldn't 'do it,' she asked me if I could 'help her.' I was sure she could hear the thumping of my heart as I placed my hand on her back, the expanse of her naked skin unbroken but for the string I was about to undo. She pulled her hair over her shoulders, leaving a very seductive shoulder exposed to me.

Instead of removing her top, though, I kissed the flushed skin of her shoulder. Just a gentle kiss, just to let her know that... "I love you," I told her before planting another kiss.

She shuddered at my touch, and then softened as she relaxed. When I moved my face after kissing her on the back of her neck, she turned around instantly, her hair whipping across my face and almost slashing an eye, and I could see that she was on the verge of tears. "I love you too, Daddy."

"You don't understand," I took her hand in mine and brought it to my lips. Kiss. She closed her eyes in heavenly surrender, and I waited until she saw me again before I spoke. "I mean, I love you. I need you. I want you. Ronnie, darling, I want to make love to you."

"Ooh, Daddy," she cooed, throwing her arms around me. "How did you - that's exactly how I feel about you."

"Really?" I acted surprised. "I never knew..."

"Not even after what Sasha was blabbering out?"

"I thought she was just pulling your leg... you mean you really, really love me?"

Rather than reply with something as prosaic as words, my daughter must have thought that it was better to use more poetic measures. She pulled my face down to hers and kissed me fiercely, passion all encompassing, until the world to me was nothing more than the holy space between her lips. Her crotch was already damp, and my erection, which had not gone down for even a second the entire evening, was as hard as I had ever felt it.

Our bodies pressed against each other's, delighting in the intimacy as our tongues fought each other. She backed against the wall, pulling me with her. I cupped her ass with my hands, almost raising her, while she started to run her fingers through my hair. I moved my hand up her back, savoring the softness of her skin, until I met the resistance of the string of her bikini.

Without hesitation, for we were too far beyond that, I tugged at it; off it came. Her breasts were still covered as the top was sandwiched between us, but the way her nipples felt, she could have been naked for all it mattered. I brushed the sides of her breasts - she responded by moving back half an inch, enough for her top to fall at our feet. My hands now shamelessly groped her, my own daughter, as she moaned with all the wanton lust of a woman in love.

The kiss was over, but everything else had just begun...

We pulled away, breathless, reluctant, and started to smile at each other. That smile turned into laughter; she started to giggle, something so nice to watch I would have until eternity. There was no awkwardness that we were alone in a closed room, enjoying a moment forever forbidden to fathers and daughters, with her naked from the waist up. I was holding her hands, watching her face... she took my breath away.

But when she moved closer for that final step, I shook my head. "Not here," I told her, knowing that all it would take was one objection from my daughter and I would change my decision. "I want to do this right... Let's go home."

She nodded, squeezing my palms to show that she understood. This wasn't going to be a one-night stand, we had progressed too far for that. And even though I realized I wasn't her first, I was determined to make myself her only from that moment. I couldn't even think as far ahead as her marriage, when she would have found someone else.