tagIncest/TabooFor The Love of My Father Ch. 01

For The Love of My Father Ch. 01

byLadySugar©

This is an entirely fictional story of consensual adult incest. If such a topic upsets you then please go somewhere else.

*

It all started when my sister and I were talking one day.

"Why is Dad so protective of you? I wish he was that protective over me!" she said, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

"I don't know!" I told her honestly, shrugging.

I was 22. My father had always been protective over me, but in the last few years he had become even more so. My mother and father had grown apart, even though they were still married and were still very much a couple. My mother was out all the time working. When she wasn't she would take weekend trips away to see my nan and granddad and my father would often stay at home with us. My two sisters were nearly always out with their boyfriends or their friends and didn't have much time for Dad, but I was always there for him. I don't quite know what it was, but it seemed that all this had brought us closer together. My father and I spent a lot of time together.

One day when the rest of the family were out, I was trying on a dress in my room and was just looking at myself in the mirror when my father came in.

"Wow!" he said, training his eyes on me. I blushed. "You look really beautiful" he said, coming up behind me, resting his hand on my shoulder. "Your skin is so soft!" he breathed, stroking over my shoulder blade with his hand.

"Dad!" I exclaimed as his touch became too sensual, too intimate. His unbearable little touches had me all worked up. For some reason it turned me on, but he shouldn't.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" he said. He kissed me lightly on the lips. He felt so warm, so loving. He broke away and held my hands in his own. "What a beautiful young lady you have become" he breathed.

"Thanks, Dad." My cheeks were flushed. I kissed him back on the cheek and he held me, his hand resting on my back, his fingers moving over the small of my back in little circles. He made me feel so safe.

After he had left I stood in front of the mirror and took the dress off. I looked at my naked body in the mirror, staring at all my curves. My eyes moved from my breasts to the dark patch of hair resting on top of my pussy. I was a real woman. I looked at the curve of my hips, my thighs, all the way down to my feet. For some reason my father's gentle touches had sparked something in me. My nipples were hard and I didn't know if it was from his touch or whether maybe I was just a little bit cold. I got dressed and thought nothing more of it.

A few weeks went by and my father and I became pretty inseparable. My mother was out a lot as usual so we spent time together talking, watching movies together and reading to each other. I would notice the way that he looked at me while I read to him, perched on the edge of the sofa or upstairs in the study. He was always interested in what I had to say and what I was doing. In the evenings he would kiss me goodnight on the lips, ever so softly, his hand under my chin. I would go to my room and think about "The Goodnight Kiss" as I would call it. I liked it but sometimes wondered if I liked it too much.

One night, on my way to bed, we met in the hallway.

"I'm going to bed Dad." I told him, clutching the book that I had taken from the study. He held out his hand and I showed him the book.

"Psychoanalysis, eh?" he looked at me sharply and gave me the book back.

"Goodnight Dad."

"Goodnight precious" he said, staring at me. I moved close to him, putting my hand on his shoulder and planted a soft kiss on his lips, however I lingered slightly longer than I probably should have done. I kissed him again, more insistently and felt him freeze. He pulled away from me, taking my hand off of his shoulder and stared at me, a shocked look on his face. Without speaking he turned and carried on down the hallway, not looking back.

For the next couple of days we did not kiss goodnight. He was always working in his study, and whenever I entered to say I was going to bed he would say "sweet dreams" without looking up at me. Disheartened, I would go to bed.

One night I got fed up of all this 'not talking' business and strode into the study.

"Dad I'm going to bed!" I told him impatiently. He looked up and saw that I didn't look very happy.

"What's wrong, princess?" he frowned, standing up in front of me.

"You haven't said goodnight to me for days!" I told him, looking directly at him.

"Oh sweetheart I'm sorry, I've been ever so wrapped up in my work" he wrapped his arms around me and held me close.

"Kiss me goodnight?" I asked in a tiny voice.

He looked at me and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips, so I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, not breaking the kiss. I kissed him back tenderly, trying to explain to him wordlessly my deepest, darkest suspicions about how he felt about me.

Eventually he could resist no more. I felt him kiss me on the lips firmer, more passionately as he gave into his instinctive desire, his hand caressing my face as we moved closer to one another, touching, feeling, being. It seemed like we kissed for such a long time. Eventually we broke apart but he held onto me, drawing himself closer to me.

"Precious one," he said. "I love you so much." I stared at him and his eyes shined back into mine.

"Dad, what are we doing?" I asked him intently. I wanted to know how he felt. It suddenly became extremely important to me on another level. A very different level than before.

"I...I don't know. Do you hate me for wanting you? I'm so sorry Diana, so sorry precious."

He looked so sad. Tears were welling up in his eyes. I had rarely seen my father cry.

"Dad?" I spoke, taking his face in my hands, looking up at him steadily. "Dad, you don't understand...I feel the same" I confessed. "I want you too. I've wanted you for a while now, like this. I know that it's wrong but every time you touch me it makes me..." I trailed off for a moment. I noticed that he was looking at me intently. "...It makes me FEEL" I said finally. I didn't know what else to say. I remained silent.

"Why do you think that is?" he asked me gently. "Is it the way I treat you? Is it something that I have done? Is there something that I don't know about?"

"No!" I reassured him. "You have done nothing wrong. You are a wonderful father."

"I just don't understand it" he pondered. "We just can't let this become reality."

"I know" I said wistfully. "Dad, I'm happy with the way that things are now. Let's just leave it at that, maybe we just should leave things as they are and these...feelings will go away over time."

But they didn't.

Things got progressively more...interesting, shall we say, but confusing at the same time. My father and I had a silent relationship which became more and more nonsensical. There were emotions running under the surface of our outward characters and I wondered how long it would take before they would come to surface.

I suppose you could say it was only a matter of time.

One day, about eight weeks later I went into the study upstairs to return a book I had borrowed of my fathers. It was an open study for us all and I spent a lot of time in there reading late at night. It was ten o'clock and I slowly walked in, book in hand. I walked past one bookshelf to the second and slipped the book back into its rightful place. I heard footsteps behind me and I knew that it was my father. I turned round and looked up at him and suddenly he was in such close proximity to me. I inhaled and he smelled so good. Like home. He moved closer to me and kissed me suddenly, feverishly, an action that took me by surprise. I let him kiss me and all of a sudden I felt myself responding. We kissed heatedly, his weight pushing me back against the bookcase. His fingers wrapped in my hair, I felt his hard on pressing up against me. I gasped as he kissed down my neck, feeling the pressure of his mouth on my skin. It was only when I moved against his hardness that he pulled away, his hands still in my hair. He stared into my eyes. "I can't resist you, you know that don't you?" he told me softly, searching my eyes as if I would have an answer. I just stared back at him soulfully.

We heard the front door slam.

"Jesus!" he muttered, pulling away from me. He squeezed my hand and left the room, leaving the door ajar. I stared after him, open mouthed. I was temporarily stunned. My mother was home. My mother was home! Why did this business all seem to be so intense and unpredictable?

Intense was the right word for it. These feelings I had developed for my father went far beyond anything I could have previously imagined. To have thought of such a thing years ago, I would have shook my head in disbelief, amazed that someone could have such feelings for a family member. But I was in that situation now, and oh, did that change things. You never think such a thing could possibly happen until it happens to you.

I sat in my room, contemplating these ideas running through my mind. I decided that I wanted to finish what we had started in the study.

At the weekend, my mother went to visit her own mother, which is over a hundred miles away. My father told her he would prefer to stay behind and get some work done over the weekend and she had told him that was fine with her. My mother has always been quite a solitary person. She isolates herself a lot. Doesn't mind doing things on her own and seems to prefer it, actually.

Saturday night. The house was empty apart from my father and I. Since my mother had left we had pretty much avoided each other. I think he was avoiding me for the very same reason I found it easier to avoid him: these feelings were too strong to simply sit down and have a proper conversation with each other without...well. My sisters were out for the night with friends. The atmosphere was perfect for my plan.

We said a brief goodnight as usual, no touching. I retreated to my room to wait for a few minutes. Once I had heard him enter his room I quickly got changed into something more slinky. I put on a thin slip, which I think was a little too on the seductive side to be innocent. I took a deep breath and crept down the hallway. I was so nervous I could feel myself shaking slightly. But I had to go through with it. I needed to. I needed to know.

I knocked and then opened the door quickly. He was sitting on the edge of the bed taking his socks off. I approached the bed. He stared at me in surprise. "Sweetheart what are you doing here?" he asked. I moved toward him. I stood in front of him in my slip, one strap had dropped from my shoulder exposing my creamy flesh. He looked at me, really looked at me.

"Please, I'm not going to bed until I kiss you goodnight" I told him. He stared at me silently. I stood in front of him, feeling his eyes on me, taking me in. I moved closer to him so that he was looking up at me as his eyes travelled up my body to look into my eyes. I moved my lips to his and kissed him, my mouth open, wanting more of him. I felt him respond, kissing me back hard, bringing his hands to my hair as he held my face to his, kissing me passionately. I had never felt anything like it, I could feel the need in him growing as I ran my hands over his body, moving down to stroke my hand over his boxers. I felt him, so stiff and ready and it made me want him even more, my nervousness slowly ebbing away.

I dropped to my knees. "Take them off" I asked him. He looked at me, his eyes wide. He paused a minute before slipping them off, and they pooled on the floor around his ankles. I pulled them off and threw them aside. I held his shaft in my hand, feeling his length and girth under my palm, trying to gauge his reaction. I moved my head closer to him and, while I looked up into his eyes, slowly began to lick along his length, coating him with my saliva as I did. He looked at me, partly in shock, partly in arousal. I knew he wanted it. I licked the tip of his cock, flicking my tongue over its head before licking long strokes up the underside once again before gradually taking him into my mouth, parting my lips wider to move all the way down his shaft. The moment I felt my lips kiss the base of his cock I felt my cunt quake in approval, I ached so much inside. I stayed there a moment, just feeling him in my mouth before moving back and forth along his cock. I moved away momentarily to run my tongue over his balls, licking them as I ran my hand up and down his cock, applying firm pressure as I bathed him in my saliva lovingly. I moved to kiss his throbbing phallus again, taking him back into my mouth, my tongue flicking the underside of his cock as I moved back and forth on him, taking him deep into my mouth. He ran his hands over my shoulders as I worked my mouth on him, faster, faster...until I could feel him tense up, ready to shoot his load into my welcoming throat.

"I'm going to come" he told me urgently as I continued moving back and forth on his shaft, waiting to feel the first stream of his cum hit my tongue. He came in bursts, and I could feel his hot liquid running into my mouth and down my throat. It felt amazing having him like this. I stayed there until he became soft in my mouth, as I moved up toward him he held my head and kissed me hard, his tongue seeking mine, bringing me onto his thigh as I clung to his waist.

"My beautiful Diana" he murmured to me. He enveloped me in his arms, squeezing me tight as I laid my head on his shoulder, shutting my eyes. We stayed like that for a while, with him just holding me. I began to stand up, but he held my wrist firmly, but careful not to hurt me. "Stay here. Stay here with me tonight. Sleep next to me" he asked, his eyes shining. I smiled and nodded, kissing his forehead, caressing his face with my hand. He lay down on the bed and I lay beside him, pulling the quilt up to my waist. He looked at me, running his hand over the soft silk of my slip.

"Must you have this on to sleep?" he asked, his finger tugging on one of the straps gently. I looked at him. He looked at me. I smiled at him and stood back up, pulling the slip from over my head, my back to him. I turned back round sideways to get into bed, and he stared at me. I could feel his eyes roving over my breasts with their red, hard nipples down to the short triangle of curls between my hips. I lay back down on the bed quickly, and he leant over me, bringing his hand to my waist, up between my breasts to my neck, touching me as softly as a whisper over silk. That's when he had me. He brought his face to mine and kissed me, his hand caressing my breast, then stroking circles around my nipple, kissing down my neck, bringing his mouth to my nipples. When I felt him begin to lick my nipples I was in heaven. I was becoming even wetter as he moved from one to the other, sucking on them gently, tugging on them ever so slightly, drawing them out into his mouth as he ran his hand down my belly to the top of my pubic mound through the triangle of curls there, moving down to cup my pussy in his palm, eliciting a moan from me as I moved my hips up to press my sex against his hand. He stroked my pussy and found my wetness coating one of his fingers. Feeling him touch me there was like there was electricity flowing between us as he gently probed my cunt, slicking his fingers in my juice.

We kissed as he stroked his fingers between my parted labia, bringing his hand up to my face for us to taste together as we kissed, my own essence turning me on even more. He kissed down my belly, across my hips, up the soft flesh of my inner thighs before kneeling between my legs and planting a kiss on my mound. I moaned as I felt his lips make contact with my pussy for the first time. I felt his lower lip graze my clit and I gasped, throwing my head back. I felt his hands underneath my thighs and that made me feel safe, opening up to him for him to probe deeper. He licked my outer lips before moving further, teasing my labia under his tongue as he felt every inch of my pussy. He plunged his tongue into my pink insides, drinking from me as if trying to milk my life essence from me. He moved up to cradle my clit with his tongue, licking around my sensitive bud lovingly, flicking it, nibbling it as I moaned, kissing it. He then began to lick my clit more firmly, stroking over me, tongueing me to the very brink. I could feel my orgasm building, he felt so amazing between my legs. It was exquisite knowing that it was him, the man I knew I really wanted. The man that made me shiver in ecstasy, breaking out in goose bumps every time he brushed his hands over my skin. His swift, direct strokes to my clit were too much to bear. I knew I was about to come.

"Dad...ohhh!" I cried as he took me over the edge, never straying from my clit as my hips bucked toward him. I was in heaven as he focused all his attention on my very centre, caressing my ass with his hands. When I relaxed, he took my clit between his lips and kissed it, a firm kiss that made me jump. I looked down and smiled at him as he nuzzled his face into my pussy. I touched his hand lightly with my face and he looked up at me. "Come here" I asked him, sitting up, reaching out to him. He moved further up the bed and sat next to me, enveloping me in his arms, kissing my forehead tenderly.

"Diana. My darling Diana" he whispered into my hair, holding me tight. I buried my head into his chest, stroking his back, feeling his broad shoulders as he held me. Eventually we faced each other, and he looked into my eyes warmly. "I love you Diana. You know that don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, I do." I moved under the covers, motioning for him to join me. He slipped under the quilt and pulled it up over both of us, bringing me into his arms once again. I snuggled up close to him and felt so comforted and warm. He caressed me lovingly until I fell asleep in his arms, my head on the crook of his shoulder.

When I awoke he was stroking my hair gently. "Good morning beautiful!" he said, smiling at me. I smiled at him back and gave him a kiss on the lips.

"So what time do you think the girls will all be back?" I asked him.

"Your sisters never come home until this afternoon at least so we are okay, your mother won't be in until the afternoon either." He stretched out, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

I sat and thought for a minute. "Dad, would you ever make love to me?" I asked him, my hand in his. He looked up at me, and I saw pain in his eyes.

"I don't know if I can...it's not that I don't want to, you know that don't you?" he asked, gripping my hands in his, searching my eyes for emotion.

"I was just asking. So you do want to then?" I pushed him.

He looked into my eyes. "If you want the truth, yes."

I nodded and lay down, thinking, worrying. He sensed my tension and leant over me and stroked my face. "Your mother..." he didn't finish. I just lay there as he stroked my face and hair, examining me. "You are truly one of mine, aren't you" he murmured. "More so than the others. I always thought that you were the most like me."

"I don't want you to love me just because I look like you and you think I'm yours!" I told him solemnly.

"I don't. I want you because...you're different. I love the person you are, Diana. I see this woman that you have become and I like her. I like this funny little woman who makes me smile and has all her own ideas and her own creativity. Even if you weren't mine, I think I would still feel the same" he whispered. I glanced at him and he was looking at me again solemnly. I lifted my mouth up slightly, my head still on the bed and he leant down and kissed me. His kisses were pure heaven. We kissed until we were breathless, and even then we didn't stop. I could feel him pressing between my thighs and it made me want him so much. "I wish I could make love to you, Diana" he whispered.

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