Better than We Were

We talked about her friends, of which she only maintained a few like Alana, her best friend. I always liked that girl. She was always sweet whenever she came by the "cute little cottage." Alana was the one constant good in Leah's life. I probably should get her some flowers in appreciation, as she was the one who really pushed Leah to speak up when I was too afraid to do so.

We also chatted about her schooling, and even some about Ellen. When we shifted to Ellen, it turned into such a sad moment, but also a happy time as we shared some very fond memories.

I found out that she had read my speech, the one I never gave at Ellen's service, before she came into my room that first night. She had felt the need to be with me right then. The speech had comforted her.

By the end of the night, Leah had ended up laying in my arms on the couch. She stared at me with this very affectionate expression, at least I hoped I read it correctly. Didn't matter. I loved it. I chose to believe my assessment of the situation.

We headed to bed again, and without asking she followed me into my room and dropped her shorts. I did a quick double-take.

"I...uh don't actually usually wear shorts to bed, so I decided to take my own advice. You know, about being comfortable." She shrugged and gave a small smile.

She then quickly jumped into bed, unlocked her phone and seemed to quickly text someone. The small white panties did little to maintain her modesty. My glimpse of her barely covered and very cute behind as she turned to sit down on the bed gave me pause.

"Just saying good night to Alana," she explained as she sat the phone on the bedside table.

She immediately slid up against me again, this time with just two thin pieces of cloth between what will probably be yet another very hard dick against her lovely bottom.

I kept focusing on how alluring she had become. How physically attractive. But I always shifted back to the same thought -- what the hell was wrong with me? Leah was my flesh and blood. These thoughts, these moments of attraction, they just weren't right?

Could it be that I had such a stale sex life, with the last time being with Julie such a long time ago? Could it be because I really didn't masturbate very much anymore?

I slipped my arms around her causing her to immediately bring my hand to her lips and then move it to her chest again. My hardening dick immediately pressed up against her bottom. She wiggled her hips, pressing her bottom back against me, then seemed to settle down.

I felt her nipple hardening beneath the palm of my hand again. I felt like this was both exactly what I should be doing while also feeling at the same time that this is exactly what I should not be doing. Confused. Guilty. Happy. Comfortable.

I moved her hair back away from the side of her face, my fingertips brushing across her cheek. I saw the side of her mouth form a small smile, her eyes remaining closed. Her pretty face. Her pretty eyes. Her pretty smile.

God, I loved my daughter. Things just felt so right, to be holding her, her body against mine.

I couldn't stop moving my hips, moving my hard dick against the curves of her cheeks.

I could hear her breathing, her body moving a little bit. I felt such an attraction at that moment, to the feel of her, her smell, her hair, her skin. To her.

Somehow, I drifted off again.

I woke nearly in the same position as when I drifted off, except I felt a lot more skin. Her hand over mine, my hand over her breast. That had been the same. But then the difference centered on the fact that my hand rested on her naked breast, her hard exposed nipple against my palm, and her not wearing a shirt. I hoped I didn't strip her in my sleep, but I realized her state of undress was a most welcome state.

I didn't want to move, the feel of her breast in my hand, the shape, the skin, the warmth, her nipple. All of my attention focused on every little aspect of her at that moment.

I heard her make a sound. I started to move my hand in a slight panic but she held it in place. Maybe she didn't realize.

"Mmmm. I love waking up next to you, Daddy." She pulled my hand from her breast and kissed it. I appreciated her not drawing attention to how I had been molesting her. Very sweet.

But then she immediately slipped my hand back onto her breast again. Oh.

She sighed, holding my hand there.

Hard dick, check. Said hard dick pressed against her barely covered ass, check. Holding my daughter's exposed breast, check. How could I be so turned on by such a wrong set of circumstances?

She apparently didn't want to move. We stayed like that for a time.

"Sadly, very sadly, I need to get up," she eventually whispered, "need to get ready for work."

I would have been fine to stay in this exact position for the rest of my days.

She turned, my hand sliding around her skin to end up on her upper back, kissed me on my cheek, and smiled, "might need to get you to give me a massage some time."

With that, she sat up, reached down to grab her shirt off the floor, and moved out the door, her ass cheeks showing with her panties riding up a bit.

Once I heard her get into the shower, I frantically yanked my boxers down and began stroking my painfully hard dick. I didn't need porn, erotic stories, anything. The feel of her breast, her barely covered behind, her naked back as she walked away from me, the smell of her hair, the vision of her face, the beauty of her eyes -- those memories all were enough for me.

I held my balls as my other hand stroked hard. I felt the need to cum, but also wanted to enjoy the vision of her, the memory. Such pleasure. My girl.

I stopped. My girl. My hard dick still pointing straight up, swaying, aching, needing release. How could I fantasize about her. My guilt just led to a serious case of blue balls.

I got up, stuffed a very hard dick into my pants, and quickly got ready. I left her a note that I had headed into work.

++++++

"Hey, everything ok, Dad?"

I had to go home eventually. All day, I had thought about my daughter -- the sexual being, the gorgeous alluring young woman, the one who drove me absolutely crazy, but also my daughter, my girl, the one I needed to protect above all else.

"I... yeah. All good." I never had been very good at hiding emotions. She could tell something had gone wrong.

I knew this because she had fixed another dinner for us. A really nice one, actually.

We sat, didn't talk much, and ate. She watched me closely.

Once finished, I offered to clean dishes. She headed off to her room.

I finished and sat on the couch for a moment. How did I get into this mindset, to be so attracted to her?

"Dad, let's talk." Leah had slipped up behind me, wearing her standard shorts and cropped tee. So cute. So sexy.

"Sweetheart, I... " I began.

She walked around the couch and sat right next to me, facing me with legs crossed. The smooth legs. Warm and soft skin just mere inches away. Good lord she was addictive.

"Dad, we promised to be open with each other." She locked eyes with mine, giving me a cute stern look.

I nodded, but where would I start? Would it be something along the lines of "sweetheart, I love feeling your body against mine. You probably could tell because I am getting hard every time you are near." Yeah, that would definitely end things for us.

"Dad, does, like, me sleeping with you make you uncomfortable? Is that it? Because I can stop." I glanced at her, her eyes averted. "I mean I don't want to stop, but we can if you don't like..."

"Sweetheart, no, you don't... " I paused again.

"Was it because I removed my shirt? It was just uncomfortable to sleep in. I usually sleep only in panties... or well sometimes less. But I can sleep in a shirt." She then added, seemingly realizing another possibility, "or is it because I like having you hold me in places? Does that bother you? I mean I guess we can stop that if it bothers you."

She looked a little pleadingly at me. My girl. I was her protector, and here I was causing her stress. No more of that. No more leaving things unsaid and potentially missing out on more important moments with my girl.

But I couldn't tell her I literally was lusting after her. Could I?

I looked into her eyes, her beautiful eyes, and held her hands.

"Baby, I love you more than anyone in this world. You are without a doubt the most important person in my life. You cannot do a thing to make me love you less." I raised my eyebrows with the do-you-understand look. She nodded cautiously. She probably was expecting a 'but' to come up now.

"I love you sleeping with me. And what you wear does not bother me. And I love holding you. You are just... "

She hung on my words.

I couldn't ruin our relationship by telling her I had become very attracted to her. I loved sleeping with her, feeling her next to me. She brought me such happiness.

So, I gave her the end statement.

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me."

She looked at me, a little confused as if my answer didn't make much sense, shook her head and scooted forward and hugged me, "Daddy, there is nothing you will do to make me uncomfortable. I love sleeping with you too. You make me happy and I feel so comfortable around you." She raised her eyebrow, "but that was it?"

I nodded.

She kissed my cheek, then sat back, "then don't be stupid and scare me like that again, dammit." Her scolding looked half serious. She finally smiled a little.

I guess she was ignoring my daily erections, she liked my hands on her as I gave her comfort, and she had become very physically affectionate. If she chose to not focus on the pervy side of her father then this likely would be every Dad's dream.

And I could keep my lust at bay. Somehow.

++++++

"So, you are ok with me not wearing a shirt?" she asked, exposed belly and cute navel at eye level as I laid in bed.

"You wear what makes you comfortable, sweetheart."

"Good. They are just boobs anyway. Not like you haven't seen breasts or anything." She quickly stripped her shirt off, tossed it aside, and climbed into bed.

Of course I had seen boobs. She came from somewhere, after all. But I actually hadn't seen HERS. And in my quick glimpse, hers were small-ish, cute, and firm. Just like they felt. My cock just literally twitched.

"I mean I am built like a twelve year old boy anyway, and they definitely aren't as big as mom's, but it really is not a big deal," she muttered as she moved pillows and sheets around her, getting settled. "Just booooooooobs," she smiled at me.

Finally settled, she laid down.

"Hey there," having pulled the sheets up below her breasts, she turned on her side to face me. She may have been doing that on purpose, or maybe she just did not care. I mean she could see my nipples too, so equality and all. Free the nipple!

"Hello right backatcha," I smiled.

"So, you are really ok?" she asked again.

"I... I just get worried about you. I don't want to lose what... what we have regained, you know?"

She nodded. "100% feel the same way." She smiled, "so that's why you can't be a dumbass and keep from telling me stuff. Got it?"

"Got it. No dumbassery"

"Good boy. Now hold me so I can go to sleep." And with that, she turned her lovely small breasts away from me, backed up her barely clad lovely behind against my uncontrollably hardening cock, and pulled my arms around her. She kissed my hand and then placed it on her breast again.

"And you are ok doing this?" she asked me quietly.

"Yes, baby, it is my pleasure to do this," and I was not lying. Obviously.

"Dad, thanks for putting up with me." I kissed her cheek. She then added, "I love how you hold me. I feel very cared for and safe with you."

I drifted off again in bliss, but also very aroused, per the new normal.

I woke up alone. I jumped in the shower, the whole while working through the new ultimate question -- am I loving my daughter as a dad when I desperately want to express my love physically to her, to kiss her and feel her against me, to hold her, to make her squirm and give her pleasure?

I settled down enough to get dressed, running into Leah in the kitchen. She happily kissed me, handed me my breakfast, and sat down to eat hers.

"Sleep well?" I asked between bites.

"Mmhmm," she affirmed, having just taken a bite of strawberry. "Very," she smiled at me, strawberry juice having collected at the corner of her mouth. It produced a very sensual image there, the little collection of juice. Kinda begged for my attention.

"Hold on," I said, taking my thumb and wiping it away. She seemed to blush for a moment and then smiled.

"You used to have to do that all the time when I was a little girl."

"Not so little anymore, though."

"Guess not, but I still appreciate it." She paused, "oh hey, Mom has been calling me."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

"Yeah, I have been ghosting her. Didn't really wanna go through her shit. I mean stuff." She grinned.

I laughed, "yeah, well you do what you want to do there, but it might be better to just talk to her. It usually is a lot healthier to deal with things that make you angry rather than hold onto them."

"Hmm. But what if talking to her makes me even angrier?"

"Fair enough, but one day you are going to have let go of any anger you feel towards her. Or me. It only hurts you."

"There is no anger towards you." She paused, rolling a strawberry around with her spoon, "do you still feel anger? Are you going to forgive her? And before you dodge my question, I know you don't talk shit about her, but I know she hurt you, so be honest. I think I deserve to know, being your favorite person of all time and all." She grinned at me as she devoured another strawberry.

I paused, taking a bite, using breakfast as an excuse.

Yeah, I guess as an adult we could have this conversation. And we were vowing to be open with each other.

I turned to her, "yeah I was hurt. Really hurt. And pretty confused." She nodded sympathetically at me. "And over time, the hurt really hasn't gone away. It might be exacerbated by the fact that your mom and I haven't talked about it much. I am still confused."

I paused. I really hadn't voiced much of this to anyone, only a little to Ellen but that was it.

"I know I will need to forgive her... and maybe ask forgiveness from her for stuff too. Not sure. But I know I can tell her I forgive her before my heart follows and actually lets it go." I shrugged, "I have no idea of what that looks like, but I do know that me being angry at her is not hurting her, just me, and probably you. And I am not ok with that. Make sense?"

She nodded, "yeah, I think so." But then she added, "she left you alone, so that had to make it harder, you know? Like she did something, but then it kept going because she made it harder by not being here to let you deal with it."

I nodded, but then Leah was still there. And now that I thought about it, I missed some things about Julie, but I had Leah. She obviously didn't do everything a married partner did, but she shared her days with me, and that was part of it. She was important to me.

She continued, "but I am not ready yet either. She left me too. At least not alone. Maybe one day I can forgive her. Don't know."

It was a short conversation, but it was so important. I had given her more insight into my thinking than I had any other person on the subject, and honestly her perspective, as young and inexperienced as it admittedly was, was still welcome.

"I am liking this talking to each other stuff. Feel like you see me as an adult." She grinned, put her bowl in the sink, kissed me and started to head out the door.

"See ya later, Dad. Have a good day!"

++++++

I knew Leah would finish up her work at around 4:30 pm. I usually got home at 6:00, but decided I was going to skip out early and pick up some groceries. I wanted to fix her a meal and I needed to get home early enough so to start cooking before she had a chance to. I guess it was just another attempt at bringing us closer together. And honestly, the conversations had been great and I felt like we were on a roll. I wanted the roll to keep... uh rolling.

I grabbed a few steaks, some potatoes, some salad stuff, and even a bottle of wine. She wanted to be treated like an adult, so drinking a glass of red would be a good step in that direction.

I pulled into the driveway at around 5:00 pm and saw her car there already. I grabbed the bags and slipped through the door. She wasn't in the kitchen so I saw my plan unfolding quite nicely.

I pre-heated the oven and then headed back to my room to quickly change. I walked by her closed door. She probably was resting after work or something. All the better to surprise her.

I rounded the corner into my room and stopped at the doorway. I couldn't move.

Leah was in my room, on my bed, not napping or resting at all.

She was laying stomach down on my bed, bottomless, her shirt pulled up above her breasts, her bare breasts pressed against a pillow, my pillow. The one where my head rested. That one. One hand moved frantically between her thighs, the other rested on her breast. She had more or less latched onto the pillow, her face pressed against it.

The image mesmerized me. Her hips gyrated, eyes closed, fingers moving rapidly, mouth open in a silent expression of pleasure. And then her silence was interrupted by a long moan escaping her lips.

My mind raced but my body remained immoveable, glued to the spot. Sensual, raw, sexy, hot, all of those things at the same time. But I shouldn't watch this, Leah in her very vulnerable moment. This was her private time, not a show for me. I needed to leave, but I couldn't.

Another moan brought me out of my internal battle. Her cute bottom clenched at the end of each gyration. I could barely make out her fingers moving between her creamy thighs. She pressed her hips forward against her hand. Needed to leave. Could not leave.

And as if at that very moment she sensed my presence, her eyes popped open, stared at me as if processing, and then finally expressed surprise.

She jumped up, pulled the pillow towards her lap, hugging it against her body, her mostly naked sweaty glistening body, and seemed to turn red all over.

"Dad!!!! What are you doing???!!!!"

"So sorry Leah!" I yelled as I ran out, finally finding the will to move, pulling the door behind me. I immediately bolted towards the living room. And there I sat, fretting, stressing, worrying.

Spying on her in her most vulnerable moments would not contribute to making her feel safe. Nice work, John. Totally fucked that up.

God damn, how could I be this uncontrollably stupid? Everything had been going so well.

But honestly, with the way my mind had been working recently, this was bound to happen. The constant erections. The longing for her. She had to notice eventually.

Nothing else to do but to hope we could somehow work through this.

I heard her door close. She had finally moved from one place to another. Made sense.

I couldn't go visit her, apologize, as she likely had no interest in talking to me. I really needed to go back to just treading carefully and controlling my stupid thoughts.

With nothing but stressing left to do, I went ahead and decided to cook the food. Maybe I would deliver it to her door, as I am sure she didn't want to come out and hang with me, her perverted dad.

When I finished making dinner, I set out a covered plate and a glass of wine on the counter for Leah. I quickly ate my portion, put my empty plate in the sink and composed a text to Leah.

"L -- I am so very sorry for earlier. I am an idiot. I put your dinner on the counter. Going out."

I then decided to go for a drive, giving her space.

After about a half hour of aimlessly driving around our little community -- getting gas, stopping at a grocery store to get one item, swinging by a park -- stressing over my constant idiocy, I noticed a text from Leah.