tagIncest/TabooHawaiian Valentines "Lei" for Daddy

Hawaiian Valentines "Lei" for Daddy


Hi, thanks for clicking open my story. It's my first story out this year as well as an official entry in LITEROTICA'S Valentines Day Contest. So please, when you get to the end of the story, take a couple of extra seconds and cast your vote.

WARNING: This is an Incest Category story that features graphic sex between family members. All sexual acts are committed by consenting adults 18 yo or older. It is approximately 11,500 words long which comes to just over 3 LITEROTICA pages. If this is not what you were expecting please click away now. To the rest of you -- please enjoy!


Friday, February 8th, New Hampshire

"Is this the famous artist Katherine O'Malley?" were the first words I heard when I picked up the phone that cold February day.

"Daddy?" I asked, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice.

"How's the weather over there in sunny New Hampshire these days?" he asked in his deep, unmistakable voice, the smiling, teasing tone clear.

"You're watching the weather channel aren't you?" I accused grumpily as I lifted my eyes to my apartment window and looked through the frost covered windows to the whiteout beyond.

"Gosh I miss shoveling the snow," he chuckled.

"Shut up daddy!" I ordered.

"Here I could be tobogganing down a mountain with my favorite daughter and instead I have to spend my days swimming and snorkeling and surfing in the warm, blue Pacific waters," he said, feigning sadness.

"I'm very busy right now father."

"Are you? Gosh Katy I hope I didn't interrupt you with your latest beau," my father said, his teasing tone now full of curiosity.

"Yeah right! Its two in the afternoon daddy...it's not like I spend my days in bed with," I started, then quickly stopped, not wanting to discuss any aspect of my sex life, or lack of it, with my father.

"Craig said he thought you were on the verge of running off with some bearded, long haired weirdo who hunts defenseless animals," my father answered.

"Craig?" I sputtered, now not knowing if daddy was teasing me or if my stupid brother had made up some story up about me.

"Yup, I talked to him on Sunday."

"You did?"

"Yes, in fact he called me. I know, I know, it's unusual for children to call their parents but once in a while my son does takes the time to call his lonely old dad," he answered, a small complaint clear in his voice.

"I've called," I protested guiltily, knowing his implied criticism was based in fact. "Besides, Craig told me at Christmas that you have girlfriends passing almost non stop through your house."

"Girlfriends?" he asked. "And what does that have to do with my daughters continuing poor treatment of her old man?"

"It's disgusting," I accused, yet felt guilty the second I said it.

"This is coming from the daughter who hasn't come to visit her father in almost two years."

"Since you left mom, you mean?" I accused, my voice shrill.

"I didn't call to have an argument honey?"

"Please don't daddy," I finally whispered. "God, I just can't take any more...shit, why do you always try to make me feel bad?" I demanded as I felt my voice getting louder and shriller. Don't, I warned myself.

"Things going badly honey?" dad asked, his soft inquiring tone now full of concern.

"Shit, I can't paint daddy... not even a bloody vase of flowers...its fucking snowing here every bloody day...it's freezing...I have no money...or prospects... I have no sex life... Christ I haven't got properly laid in months...do you really want to know if things are going 'baaaadly' daddy?" The words had exploded from my mouth, unbidden, unplanned. Aghast I banged the receiver twice hard against my thigh before bringing it back to my ear. Christ, had I used the word fuck? Had I told my father I hadn't got properly laid? I wanted to just smash the receiver back into its cradle and then run out into the snowstorm as I listened to the silence at the other end.

"Who is this? Where's Katherine O'Malley?" dad finally asked.

I was crying, six months frustration suddenly and unexpectedly released in a torrent of tears.

"Honey, are you okay?" dad asked when I didn't respond.

I hung up! Then I didn't answer the phone when it started to ring thirty seconds later.

I simply sat crying in the corner of my big couch feeling sorry for myself. Wondering why I was so sad. And then I started to berate myself for taking it out on my father. Another fucking wonderful day in the life of Katherine O'Malley I thought as the tears coursed down my cheeks.

I was almost twenty-one, hell it'd be only another five days until I hit the big TWO-ONE...until I officially became an adult. Except I felt like a little girl, a lost and unhappy little girl. And I couldn't figure out why.

I was smart...intelligent...or so everyone had always said. I'd done well in school and had my pick of colleges. And I'd found something I loved...and that I was good at. Art... Painting. Except now I couldn't paint a bloody tree let alone the thousands of visions that flitted across my mind, demanding to be put down on paper.

I was athletic and good looking... And yet I'd left a string of boyfriends lying in my wake the last two years. Somehow I'd been able to find every loser who managed to get within fifty miles of me. Okay fate can deliver the odd bad apple but when it happens again and again it's very hard not to realize that you've got something to do with the problem. It's something really great to learn about yourself, that if you're put in a room with nine perfect men and one loser that invariably you'll pick the loser.

And it had nothing to do with my father...or did it?

He should never have divorced mom...and I'd come to accept it as a given that all my problems started when my parents had separated. Even though I had been nineteen at the time and had finished my second year of Art College by then.

And why did I still measure every potential beau against him and my brother if he was so bad? And why did my most intimate thoughts and dreams so often include him? I mean I hadn't even seen him since he'd left for Hawaii some eighteen months earlier.


My brother Craig arrived four hours later, having driven the one hundred miles that separated his campus from my apartment in a driving, winter blizzard.

Angry at dad for sending him I still couldn't conceal the delight I felt when I opened the door and found his snow covered form on my doorstep.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, my smile telling him my real feelings. "You could have killed yourself you idiot...are you crazy?"

"So, what's going on? One of these woman's monthly things?" were the first words from my brother's mouth.

"You didn't have to come...just because I hung up on him..."

"Dad said if I didn't get my ass down here and report to him a.s.a.p. he'd..."

"He'd what?" I demanded. "He can't run our lives any more..."

"He'd never invite me back to Hawaii," Craig answered, then added, "and after that trip at Christmas..."

"What was so good about it," I asked, still angry that he'd been over to visit dad twice in the last fifteen months and I'd been too proud to go. My fault -- I'd declined dad's repeated invitations.

"Surfing...hot girls... sex," he said with a big grin.

"You were staying with dad," I protested, pretty sure he couldn't have slept with any girls during his ten day sojourn in the islands. But even as I said it I knew better. It had taken me quite a while to figure out how attractive most girls, heck, not just girls, all women, found Craig O'Malley.

It wasn't that he was the handsomest guy in the world, it's just that he has something. People like him...he's nice...and has the cutest smile. At least that's what my high school girlfriends had convinced me of one night when we were having a sleepover our senior year. We'd been discussing our boyfriends, guys in our class, movie stars, and then somehow my sixteen year old brother's name had come up. And there had been immediate and unanimous agreement that Craig was hot.

"My brother?" I'd shrieked, completely mystified.

"I wish I was sixteen again," my best friend Ellie had insisted.

"He's almost as good looking as your dad," another chimed in. And then for the next twenty minutes six high school girls discussed the relative sexual attractiveness of my brother and father.

And Craig's grown out into a man since then. He has that easy casual strength a natural athlete has, a way of entering a room that attracts immediate attention. There is nothing artificial, gym fed about his body, instead he came by his attractiveness naturally -- he'd inherited it from dad.

"So what's for dinner anyway?" he asked as he shook the snow from his coat, breaking into my jumbled thoughts.


"Well if there's no major catastrophic event that took place in Miss O'Malley's life today maybe she could take a few minutes and prepare something for her starving brother."

"I wasn't expecting anybody."

"Not even that weirdo you've been dating," he asked, his teasing tone so much like dads.

"It's your fault," I accused. "What did you tell dad anyway?" I demanded, my finger angrily pointing at him.

"I told him that his crazy daughter has buried herself in some godforsaken town in the middle of nowhere and only dates strange, bearded guys who smoke dope and wander around half the day on snowshoes, trapping and killing any little animal with fur they find," he answered grinning.

"I only went out with him once. Did you really tell dad about him?"

"Do they have a pizza parlor in this town?" he asked, ignoring my comment.

"We're in the middle of a bloody blizzard," I squawked.

"You should be living in New York City. Then at least they're be something to do when I came to visit you."

And the thing was he was right! I'd graduated the prior spring, then, after a couple of weeks at home with mom and Craig, had retreated to a small town in northern New Hampshire, having convinced myself that living alone in a raw, natural environment would somehow be cathartic in the development of my artistic vision.

Except it hadn't been. My small apartment at the edge of town, a town of only five hundred people, was a poorly furnished dump. And although I'd had a little money saved I'd soon found myself having to work as a barmaid four nights a week at 'NAKED BEARS', a place that catered to hunters and loggers, was decorated with stuffed animal heads and NRA posters, and which featured at least two donnybrooks every weekend. And had my ass pinched at every second table I served.

"I have some frozen dinners," I admitted as he opened the fridge and then the freezer. "But we better cook them quickly," I added with a grin, unable to be angry with this brother I loved.

"How come?"

"The power could go out anytime....we lose it every time we get a storm...like four times already this winter."

He cooked six of them...my complete stock, claiming he was hungry and that if the power did go out we'd have something for breakfast. So we sat on the living room floor, drinking beers and talking as we ate. And, around eleven, pitiful little ole me realized it was the best evening I'd had since I'd been home at Christmas.

Then the power went out just before midnight! And so the two of us ended up side by side, fully dressed, sleeping on my mattress which we'd taken from my bedroom and tossed on the floor in front of the fire. And the loser and pervert that I was I dreamed of how nice it would be if we were naked! Entwined. With me fully cocked! By my brother...Sicko...

Saturday, February 9th New Hampshire

We each ate a cold Frozen Turkey Dinner for breakfast, the jellied cranberries and lumpy gravy washed down with orange juice. Yuck! Fortunately the storm had died out during the night and when we finally ventured outside around noon hour we were faced by a thick carpet of virgin snow that seemed to blanket the whole world.

"I don't think you'll be able to get back to school today," I said after we'd battled our way down the walk to the road. Craig's car, on my small driveway, was buried under a mound of snow.

"At least they've plowed," he answered as we surveyed the road. "Anyway, as long as we can get out tomorrow morning we'll be okay."


"Uh huh," he said enigmatically, then, suddenly laughing, turned to me and quickly lifted me into his arms and tossed me into a four foot deep snowdrift which swallowed me completely.

"I'll kill you," I shrieked to his retreating back when I finally managed to pull my face free from the snow. It's not fair I thought to myself as I brushed off, heck, I'm five-nine, athletic and yet my little brother can lift me up and handle me like I'm a little girl.

But at least he had the fire blazing when I stumbled through the door five minutes later.

We took our first tentative steps to treating each other as adults that afternoon. Just casual talking ...but not as older sister and younger brother but as ...oh gosh, it's hard to describe...but different. Was he going to be someone really important in my future life, a best friend...or simply the brother (and uncle to my kids) who lived in Cleveland or Philly and who I saw once a year? That afternoon we started down the path to becoming adult friends. It was kinda nice.

"Can I paint you?" I suddenly asked Craig as we sipped our beers later that afternoon.

"Me? A model?" he asked with a small grimace.

"Yes, the handsome, young, college sophomore snowshoeing across the frozen tundra," I answered laughing, as a vision of Craig, clad in a three piece, pinstriped suit with a toque on his head flashed through my mind.

"I'm not going outside," he promised but then asked, "and according to dad you claim you can't even paint a vase of flowers these days."

"Flowers are tougher than dumb brothers," I teased back. And then, for the next couple of hours I was happy again, quickly sketching Craig from a variety of angles, somehow my artistic skill reborn. He talked easily as I worked, letting me have a glimpse inside his life as he described his school courses, his girlfriends, the music he liked, politics (something we'd never discussed), even some of his dreams.

And normally shy me tried to reciprocate, and ended up telling my little brother things I'd never told anyone.

"So where do you think we're going tomorrow," I asked when I finally remembered his comment from earlier about me accompanying him when he left the next morning.

"Boston. Hell, I better shovel the car out and make sure it starts before it gets too late," he said as he stood up.

"Boston? What's in Boston?" I asked even as my eyes roved across his stretched t-shirt, a t-shirt that did little more than highlight his muscled chest and flat stomach. Quickly flicking my eyes even lower I took in the bulge of maleness that seemed far too large for the blue jeans that held them. I quickly looked back up.

"Logan International Airport," he answered, his face all of a sudden sporting a smug grin.

"Are you going somewhere? Do you need a ride?" I asked, now completely at sea, my mind still contemplating, estimating his size.

"Why do you think dad called you yesterday? What do you think he didn't have time to tell you before you so rudely hung up on him?"

"I wasn't rude...what didn't he say?"

"That being the wonderful father that he is, he has bought his daughter, the most important person in his life"

"Hah," I grumbled, interrupting him.

"Well after me...and I guess after a couple of those sweet little Hawaiian girls he's been hanging out with lately," Craig added with a smirk and a wink. "Anyway, this kind father has bought his favorite daughter a plane ticket that will whisk her away to Maui, Hawaii where she will spend her twenty-first birthday, the day she finally becomes a woman, surfing with her loving father."

"I can't go," I spat out. "I won't," I insisted as my suddenly silent brother looked on bemusedly. "I have my art...my job...stop smiling like that," I ordered as he continued to say nothing. "You're not funny!"

"Here, I printed out your ticket and boarding pass before I left school," he answered as he pulled a folded envelope out of his back pocked. "And dad expects you to bring a very nice present for him."

"I didn't get him anything," I answered, then quickly reddened in embarrassment when he gave me a disapproving look. It had always been the biggest week of the year in our family- my birthday the 13th, Valentines Day the 14th, then dad's birthday the 15th. Three days of family celebration that had provided all of us with our warmest memories, a panorama of love that stretched back twenty years.

"You can give him the picture you just painted of me," Craig said smiling, interrupting my thoughts of happier family days.

"Why would he want a picture of you?" I muttered.

For five minutes he let me ramble on with reasons why I couldn't possibly go and it was only when I finally stopped talking, that he said quietly, "Listen sis, I am going to get you to Gate 27 at Logan by noon hour tomorrow and that's that. If you don't want to get on the plane that's your decision. Break your father's heart if you have to."

"You can't make me go," I said even as I knew with one hundred percent certainty that Craig was going to deliver me to the airport no matter what I said or did. "Why are you doing what he says? Why are you always on daddy's side?"

"We're both worried about you," he answered simply.

"You are? Why?"

"Because we both love you."


"I don't know why...you're a real pain in the rear end most of the time...But this is crap," he added as his hands indicated the room in general but also in a way that made me understand he was talking about the way I was living my life.

"I am not a pain," I insisted as I slipped into his embrace and let my tears of both joy and sadness be soaked up by his t-shirt.

He gave me my birthday present after dinner that night, and then insisted I open it then and there. "You'll need it in Hawaii," he said as I contemplated the gift wrapped package.

"It's not a very big gift," I mock complained as I suspiciously shook the small package.

"That's for sure," he agreed with a grinning smirk as I started to open the package.

"No way...NO...NO...WAAAAY little brother," I promised as I held up the two pieces, the top in my left hand, the bottoms in my right. Craig laughed, insisted I try it on, told me if I wanted anyone to notice me I'd better get with it, that Hawaii was the swimming suit big leagues.

I was finally convinced to at least try it on. Here we were in the middle of February in snow covered New Hampshire and I'm dressing myself in two little pieces of cloth that didn't have a total of one square foot of material. It wasn't a thong exactly, the panties were more a Brazilian boy short, cut so high that half of my cheeks were spilling out. In front the thin, yellow cloth barely covered my pubic triangle. The bra, two triangles just managed to barely cover my full, round breasts.

After minutes of watching myself in the mirror, trying to see what I looked like from every angle, I finally heard Craig's order to get back out there and let him see if it was okay.

I didn't want to and yet of course wanted to. I was nervous...and excited. It's just your brother, can't hurt, I tried to convince myself when I finally opened the bedroom door.

His eyes as they opened in surprise combined with the gasped out, "Whaaat the" told me all I had to know about what he thought.

"It's not me...it's too...too," I stammered, loving the effect I was producing even while pretending the opposite.

"Look out Hawaii," he finally blurted, "shit Kate, I hope dad has a gun, he'll going to need it to fight off all the surfer dudes who'll be chasing after you."

"You think its okay?"

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