Better than We Were

Kissing me was brand new too. Well, she commonly kissed me when she was little, as I made her kiss me good night every night. But now that she had turned eighteen it had become unheard of.

I watched her disappear into the hallway. She still wore her cropped tee and her short shorts, her hips swaying just a little. I focused a little too long on her shorts being a little too short, her lovely smooth legs exposed to her upper thighs, and even the movement of her butt. I shook my head and started cleaning up the kitchen.

I didn't see Leah much the rest of the morning as I made myself busy in trying to help with some logistics for the sale of Ellen's house. Rob had asked if I could take care of setting up the estate sale and even to contact the realtor. I did some research first before making the calls and leaving messages, as it was Sunday.

Leah slipped out around lunch to see some friends, so I decided to clean the house a bit.

With just the two bedrooms, one bathroom, and the living room and kitchen combination, we lived in a very small house. Leah and her friend, Alana, referred to it as a cute little cottage. I suppose that was right. Importantly, it functioned well for the two of us and I felt comfortable in it.

My job allowed me lots of flexibility and Leah had started working at a café very close by in town, so it met all of our needs.

Leah returned around dinner, ate with me in relative silence, and eventually slipped off towards her room. I had hoped that last night's shift towards what we had been meant that one day we might see forgiveness. But today didn't seem to be that day. I suppose I should be happy for the little brief relapse into a close relationship with her. I inwardly celebrated the small but isolated moment.

I eventually moved towards bed myself, following my normal routine, ending up reading in bed. Much later, just as the previous night, the door opened again and Leah walked in. She quietly closed the door and climbed into bed with me, turning her back to me.

I took my cue and hesitantly slid up behind her, putting my arm around her. She held my hand against her bare stomach again, my body pressed up tightly against hers.

"Thank you, Daddy," is all that she whispered to me.

Confused? I absolutely was. But again, we do what we need to do for those that we love. Leah needed me to just hold her. I absolutely could do that. In fact, honestly, I desperately wanted to do that.

My hand settled against the soft warm skin of her stomach. I could feel her navel against my palm. Her smaller body melted into mine. And that is how I drifted off.

I woke the next morning before she did, my arms still tight around her, my body pressed up against her. Somehow my arm had shifted up so that it sat tight against her chest, her cheek resting against my hand.

I felt the warmth of her skin against mine. Such a beautiful moment, one that made me so happy. The fact that we hadn't talked out everything did not matter at that moment. Everything felt so right.

Well except that I had a serious case of morning wood, and that it pressed against her butt cheeks.

I woke up with an erection on a reasonably regular basis, but at that moment I began to wonder if it came about for different reasons, like as the product of it being so long since I had shared the bed with someone. And the feeling of Leah in my arms, her soft body, my arm trapped against her chest, shapely bottom pressed against me, the flowery fragrance of her hair, maybe all of that contributed. She looked so beautiful, and I cared for her deeply.

I did not want to let go, but I absolutely did not want her to feel so uncomfortable suddenly discovering her dad pressing his hard dick up against her. I imagine that's the stuff therapy was invented for.

I of course felt concern about long term damage to our relationship, maybe irreparable, but also in the short term I selfishly would not be able to enjoy her being with me like this again. I had to get the body-part-with-a-mind-of-its-own away from her. Somehow.

I began to try to unwind my arm, to move away from her, which caused her to stir.

"Morning, Daddy."

"Morning, baby." Please don't feel my erection, please don't feel my erection, please don't feel my erection.

She wiggled her body a little, squeezed my arm, and then started to detangle from me.

She adjusted her shorts as she stood, which had bunched up around her bottom. She turned, smiled at me, and leaned over to kiss my cheek. As she stood back up, I swear she glanced at my lap. I hope to God I had gotten that wrong, but it really seemed like she did.

She then scooted out of my room.

Oddly, all of this fear of her seeing me aroused would normally be something to cause me to lose my arousal, but apparently it just contributed to it. So confused. And of course, I felt like a freakish letch getting aroused with my own daughter. Not normal.

Oh and also she kissed me again this morning. And now we seemed to be back to where we were yesterday.

My hard-on subsisted for twenty more minutes as I struggled with these conflicts - the emotions of my daughter at some level showing affection towards me, me being aroused around her - finally subsiding by the time my morning got underway.

Right before I walked out the door to head to work, Leah paused in front of me. She was heading to the café a little after me. She smiled at me, hesitated for a moment, searching my eyes again, seemingly satisfied she stepped forward and hugged me tight, and then turned and went back to getting ready. Also new.

She hadn't just hugged me like that since Julie left. I absolutely welcomed this but wished we could do the talking part too. But then would that totally screw up everything else? I mean maybe this was part of the process leading towards forgiveness for her. Maybe Ellen's death reminded her of the importance of family. It certainly did for me.

This was yet another point I would normally call Ellen.

I left for work, did my duty for "the man" and returned home late afternoon to find Leah sitting cross-legged on the couch working on her laptop.

She hesitated for just a moment, and then greeted me. "Hey Dad. How was work?"

As sad as it sounds, this was unusual.

"Work was work. Glad to be home."

She smiled at me, "yeah, me too."

She stared at me for a moment as I stared at her.

We were acting like all was fine, but it wasn't. Was it? I mean we had things going on in the background. Under the surface types of things. Things that needed to be aired, processed, worked through. Something.

She looked at me as I worked through what to do.

Time to be brave. I needed to do something here. We couldn't just pretend.

"Leah, can we talk?"

She paused for a moment before answering, looking a little nervous as she seemed to think about it, and then finally nodded, closing her laptop.

I sat down in the chair in front of her. Her beautiful eyes looked at me quite seriously, and a bit nervously. She bit her lip as if in thought.

I didn't know where to start, but I knew I needed to. I probably should have planned this speech. I mean I had six months to work on it, but how do you start up a conversation about failing as a dad?

The moment lasted for a bit as I struggled with the opening, and she seemed to be in her own head.

"Listen Leah I..."

"Dad, can I go first?" She looked uncomfortably at me as she jumped in, "I kinda need to."

Oh good lord, was she upset about the erection? Or was this just about me screwing up the relationship with her mom? Honestly I preferred the latter as I had been dealing with that guilt for six months, plus the few years of damage to our relationship before Julie left. Adding perv to screwing up her family was not something I wanted.

I nodded.

"I needed to say this before you spoke. I wanted to make sure it is super clear." She sighed and began, "I am so sorry Daddy... "

She paused as I looked at her, genuinely puzzled. "Uh Leah..."

"Stop Daddy. Let me finish. I should have done this a long time ago. I was just too much of a complete chicken shit. I could blame it on being younger, but that is no excuse. The last few days have reminded me how important people are," she paused, her voice having gotten more intense. "How important you are," she added quietly. "And I don't want to lose you, Daddy." Her voice cracked, "I need you to forgive me. Some day. Maybe not today, but some day. Because I miss you. And I wanted to give you space, but I didn't know how long or what to do or what to say. And then space seemed to become... like permanent. I hated it but didn't know what to do. I didn't want to push you, you know? And then these last few days were... different. And I... "

She paused, tears streaming down her cheeks. What the hell? What is she apologizing for? She looked at me, and then began again.

"Daddy, I am so sorry. I am sorry that mom left us, that me being a complete selfish bratty... " she started tearing up, her voice pleading with me. I began to move to comfort her, to stop her, to do something, but she held out her hand. I guess she needed to get it all out, even if she was one hundred percent wrong.

"That me being terrible caused you and Mom to fight and become stressed and put you against each other. I know I caused lots of arguments and anger for both of you. I own that. And you don't deserve what happened, because you are so amazing, and me being an idiot... " She was openly crying at this point.

I couldn't take any more. I tried to be gentle but firm.

"Leah, sweetheart, stop. Just stop." Shocked, she got silent, her emotions seemed to be on the edge of a knife. She looked like she was ready for me to lash out at her.

"Baby, I don't blame you for anything. Not one damned thing. I was the one being a chicken shit, not you. I should have come to you earlier. But I failed. I am the one who is sorry." She just looked at me, trying to process, obviously a little confused. That's ok sweetie, me too.

"These last few days felt nice, but not completely there. And I missed it. Us. The complete 'Us.' But you do not need to ask forgiveness for anything. You did NOTHING wrong. I thought YOU blamed ME for your mom leaving. I was an idiot." I paused, her face showing that she was still trying to process everything. "Your mom and I broke up because of your mom and me. That's it. You are not at fault. I am. Your mom is. Not you. And I am at fault because I didn't fix this earlier. I am so very sorry."

I kneeled down in front of her, her eyes just locked on me, "sweetheart, you are the most important person in my life. I want us to be like we used to be. Or maybe even better than we were."

I held her hands, "I miss your hugs and your kisses, our talks, our sitting near each other and doing nothing, I miss it all baby. Sorry if that is cheesy or cringey, or whatever."

She leaned forward and fell into my arms and just sobbed. Again. I stopped yammering on and leaned into the moment.

These last few days had been so emotional, and for the two of us to realize that both assumed the each was eternally angry at the other, but in fact neither of us were, was both earth shattering but also unbelievably sad. We lost so much fucking time by not saying anything.

Now she was not the only one crying.

I pulled her back from me and held both of her cheeks, "lets promise to each other from here on out, we always are open with each other. Every night we go to bed, we work any and all things out between us. OK?"

She couldn't speak, her lip quivering, she just nodded.

Holy shit did I miss her.

++++++

Making up a little for lost time, we spent the evening just chatting. And crying a little.

She had gotten it into her head that the drama episodes from her middle school and high school years, boys and rebellion and her choice of friends, had caused so much tension between her mom and me that it sent our marriage into an irrecoverable tailspin. She believed I blamed her for it because we didn't talk much afterwards, that our close relationship had shifted, and that she had no idea how to repair things.

And of course, I assumed all the same, except for an inverted version where I inserted me as the villain instead of her.

I had assumed one thing correctly though: that she was eternally angry with her mom. She had noted my efforts on getting back together with Julie, and Julie's refusal to do so, which of course made Leah feel even more guilt.

We sat right next to each other the whole evening, my arm around her shoulders with her snuggling up against me. We moved from laughing together to crying together and all between. We both felt that healing really began that night.

"Bed time for me, sadly." With the clock showing it to be well after midnight, very late for both of us, and work in the morning, we both needed to head towards bed.

She nodded in agreement, but then latched onto me in a very tight hug. I think I could get used to this.

"Dad, can I like sleep in your bed again? I know it's pretty stupid and childish or whatever but I think I have needed to do it these last few... "

"Baby, stop right there. Of course you can. Any time. But I wasn't sure you wanted to again after... "

"Of course I do. Then it is settled. See ya in a few." She grinned as she cut me off, before I could mention more uncomfortable subjects. Maybe she didn't notice. Here's hoping.

She hopped up and bounced into her room.

Since I knew she would be joining me, I opted to wear sweatpants over my boxer briefs.

She finally knocked and opened the door, wearing her cut off tee and short shorts again. She looked so cute in her outfit, her lovely figure very much complemented by it. I had to force myself out of being ridiculous again in noticing way too much.

She smiled at me as she walked towards me, but then looked down, "sweatpants?" Her face crinkled in authentic confusion.

"Yeah, didn't want to make you uncomfortable, so was going to wear these."

She shrugged and then jumped into bed, "you should sleep in what you normally sleep in, I certainly didn't mind it."

I suppose it was not a big deal. Boxer briefs were like tight swimsuits, so no biggie. Well except if I got aroused again, which then would be figuratively, and a little bit literally, a 'biggie.'

Her eyes watched my inner conflict with obvious amusement.

"Yeah, guess we should be comfortable," I mumbled, moved to the side, dropped the sweats and quickly slid into bed. She apparently watched me the whole time.

She turned her back to me, I slid into position into what had become the sort of new normal -- me being the big spoon to my daughter.

Once my body settled up against her, into place, she sighed.

She began whispering, her back still to me, "I miss talking to Gram," her voice choked a little, "I talked to her every night."

I kissed the back of her head, "yeah, I miss her too."

"The night of her funeral, I felt so alone," she quietly. "I talked to Alana a bit, but with her still being out of town she couldn't come over. Talking to Alana helped a little, but not enough." She paused, "even though I thought you didn't want me here, I needed you so bad. That's why I came here. I just needed you." I felt this rush of warmth. Being needed.

"And I was so happy you didn't kick me out, even though I was so heartbroken over Gram," she added.

I squeezed her body against mine, "you are always welcome here, sweetheart." I kissed the back of her head, "I am very glad you came to me too."

She brought my hand up and kissed it, then pulled it against her chest. My hand ended up with my palm against her breast, loose in her cut-off tee. I tried to move my hand so that it was not cupping her breast, but she held me tight. She didn't seem to mind, but a heightened sense of awareness arose again -- my body pressed tightly against her, my hand on her breast, and me being so completely emotionally connected to her. I loved her so much, and just felt happy that things seemed to be moving back to where they were.

The last thoughts running through my head centered on her body feeling so good against mine, and my hand cupping a very lovely soft, but firm breast. Then I drifted off to sleep.

++++++

I woke again before Leah. Again, my arousal pressed against her, actually between her butt cheeks, likely assisting in wedging her panties between her cheeks. She began to wiggle a little in her sleep, sending jolts of pleasure through me. This felt so incredibly wrong, my daughter in this vulnerable state and me benefitting from this pleasure, but then I didn't want it to stop.

I remember waking up with Julie like this before our marriage slipped into shambles, her body pressed against mine, my erection slid between her butt cheeks, and even my hand on her breast. She never wore a small outfit like Leah did to bed, but it usually didn't take long to get Julie aroused and wearing less, my fingers sliding into her wet pussy and eventually my released hard dick pressing against her bare ass.

The wiggling of Leah's hips brought me out of my sensual daydreams, my hand still pressed against her breast. I noticed that her nipple felt hard against my hand.

Her breast, compared to Julie's, felt a little smaller, but her hard nipple seemed to be more pronounced than Julie's ever had become. Her soft breast under my hand, still felt firm. At this point I ignored the fact that I had been contemplating my daughter's breast, until I stopped ignoring it.

I had to get out of this freakish thinking. I needed to escape. But then every second felt heavenly.

"Good morning, Dad," Leah whispered. She had to notice my hand on her breast, my hard dick between her cheeks. I could see no route in ignoring these very apparent facts.

"Morning sweetheart," I whispered back.

"Really nice to wake up with you."

Did she not mind my perversion? Or did she just wake up this oblivious in the morning?

She kept her butt pressed against me as she slipped out of my arm, turning her body up. She had to feel the erection.

She turned her head, smiled at me, stood and scooted out the room.

Whatever it was that happened to be going on, she either didn't mind or didn't notice, and I did not want to jeopardize a good growing relationship, so I decided to keep quiet.

We followed our new routine -- breakfast together and hug and kiss on cheek before leaving, oh and actually talking. And she acted like nothing was wrong.

After work I found her on the couch again, texting someone on her phone, wearing her shorts and crop tee. She looked so cute and honestly a bit sexy as well. Her slender body, pretty athletic actually, looked great in that outfit. So flattering. I got lost in the moment.

"You ok, Dad?" she asked, obviously noticing me staring at her.

"Yeah, sorry, how was your day?" Smooth.

"Meh. Ok. Work was a little busy. A few creepy dudes making creepy comments. The usual." Then her eyes lit up, "Oh, and Alana and I were supposed to get together tonight but she had to cancel, so you are stuck with me." She grinned at me.

We chatted as we ate dinner. We hung out on the couch, close to each other. She turned the television on in the background, but neither of us paid attention to it.

We had a lot to catch up on.

I discovered that she had dated a few guys that I never even knew about, after the rebellious ones I did know about. Apparently, those suitors proved to be not good enough for my girl either. Glad she saw that. Nearly no one is good enough for her. Maybe just me.

She had shared less with her mom and me as we argued in the last few years, and of course with us even less as she turned completely silent in the last six months. Her anger at her mom and her sadness at what she incorrectly thought had been going on in my head had really just made her turn into a hermit. A pretty sad one, apparently.