The Real Thing Pt. 02

I was closer. Daddy had let me kiss him tonight. No, he had kissed me back. There was no letting about this, only wanting. It seemed like the obstacles between me and Daddy were falling one by one. Being with him had seemed impossible before. Maybe it was even impossible now. I didn't know the first thing about being with a guy. What was instinct and what was naivete? The only thing I knew to do was to get closer to him little by little whenever I saw the chance.

My eyes turned toward the door and the dark hallway beyond. Did I have a chance now? There was no way to tell how Daddy would react, especially drunk like he was, but there was nothing to lose now. We were both in places we never thought we would be. Only a week ago I was lonely and without direction. I wanted to avoid guys since they brought nothing but pain. I hadn't had a crush like this since high school. But this wasn't a crush. If a crush was a glass of water, then what I felt was the raging, stormy ocean. All the love I had for him as a father flowed together with all the taboo desire I felt. My world had turned upside down.

I found myself standing at the threshold of Daddy's bedroom. The place where I had slept just two nights before. I had only panties and a t-shirt on and the cold air gave my legs goosebumps. Or was it Daddy doing that? All I could hear were his heavy breaths. I moved as quietly as I could across the creaking floor.

Then I was standing right over Daddy. He lay there with his mouth wide open, with the sleep that only drink could bring. His chest rose and fell peacefully. I could back out now and go back to my room. I could go to sleep and just see Daddy tomorrow morning and act like a normal daughter, or at least as close as I could get. But that's not what I did.

The bed dipped under my butt as I climbed in. The sheets were mostly off Daddy, and I wrapped myself, hoping to steady my pounding heart. I was flooded now, both in a real sense and in an emotional one. "Daddy," it wasn't even a whisper.

I lay down on my side facing him and touched his back. I started to rub. His strong, bare back felt heavenly under my hand. He was here. Right next to me in his bed, the most intimate of places. I couldn't keep my hands steady.

Daddy's breathing changed and his head lifted from the pillow. "Princess, that you?" He rolled to face me. His voice was groggy and still held traces of sleep. "What's wrong? You should be in bed."

He was looking right at me now. I shrugged. "Well, Amanada," there was irritation in his voice. "If it's nothing then go back to bed. I have a busy day tomorrow and I'm going to be all hungover to hell."

"Please Daddy. I can't sleep." I didn't have to put the little girl in my voice, it was there on its own.

"Ok but why come in here? I need to sleep." He huffed out his nose. "Wait. You heard an owl outside, didn't you?"

Just like the picture in the kitchen, this was one of my old fears. It embarrassed me. "No, Daddy, that stuff doesn't scare me anymore."

His face softened. "Why didn't you say so then? If you want to sleep here tonight you can. But you have to let me sleep."

"Ok Daddy," I whispered.

"Alright then, goodnight." Daddy rolled over.

I lied there and stared at him for a good while. His breathing became slow and deep again. I had to do something. I was closer than ever now. So I moved over and spooned my body into Daddy's. My nipples were as hard as my pussy was wet. I snaked my arm under his arm and ran my hand through the mat of hair on his chest and belly. A tingle spread out from my middle all the way to my extremities. Daddy stirred.

"Princess..." he mumbled.

I kissed the back of his neck and then his shoulders. "Daddy, I love you. I need you now."

His hand came up and held mine. "Amanda..." his voice couldn't decide to be tender or irritated.

"Can't we just cuddle for a few minutes, Daddy? I need it now. Please." My voice was tiny. I gave his neck and shoulder more kisses and pressed my tits into him, making sure he could feel how hard my nipples were.

Daddy squirmed. His butt rubbed against my pussy and I gasped. "Ok, ok. Just be quiet. I'm gonna sleep."

"Oh, Daddy, thank you." I needed to arouse him as much as possible. I kept kissing and kept rubbing. His soft hair and strong chest felt so good under my groping hands. His own solid hands rubbed my arms. The vigor I felt in his body wasn't the vigor of a man falling asleep.

Daddy gave another forceful squirm and his body shifted. My hand was down on his belly then. Something magical happened. I felt a poke on my hand. A poke. I tried not to tremble, I tried not to breathe too hard. Daddy's cock was as awake as he had been asleep. It was all I needed. My hand moved down, as slow as I could move it. I hadn't even reached his boxers' waistband.

Then the hardness rubbed the back of my hand. My God. Daddy's cock. It was closer now than it ever had been. Finally finally finally finally. My brain raced. You will always remember this moment, I thought, no matter what happens this was the moment of truth. I summoned every ounce of lust-laced courage I had.

My hand moved off Daddy's belly. Time blurred and flowed slowly. My trembling hand groped in the dark until I felt the hard shaft on my palm. My hand closed around the thing that had haunted me for days now, the thing I couldn't get out of my mind, the thing I had to have. The facsimile had brought my climax so many times, now I had the real thing in my hand. I tightened my fist and squeezed.

Daddy twitched and something like a cough emerged from his throat. "Amanda, what are you doing?" Shock still overpowered his sense of propriety. I had to keep him going.

My clutching hand moved up and down. It was like nothing I had ever felt. Even though the cloth of his underwear, I could feel skin sliding and the thump of daddy's magic member engorging even more. Daddy's shoulders rolled and there was a little moan.

"I've just never touched one Daddy. I thought... I thought since Mom wouldn't do it, I could help. I was serious about what I said." My voice was frantic and quavering. "If you tell me to stop, I will."

The only sound that came from Daddy was another moan, more fervent this time.

I felt the hardness of Daddy's shaft. I was surprised how soft the head felt, the rest of it being so hard. I had to feel his skin on my palm. I had to have nothing in between. My hand flopped on Daddy's belly and frantically dove under his waistband. "Princess, my God!"

"Tell me if you want me to stop, Daddy." Please Daddy. Please please please. Don't tell me to stop. He didn't.

There was no comparing what I felt now to what I did before. My hand closed around Daddy's hard cock and I felt its flesh against mine. It was so hard and so soft at the same time. My whole body was on fire. I moved my hand up and down Daddy's dick, wanting to feel every inch of it. I reached the heavenly softness of the head, and Daddy moaned louder than ever. The tip was wet. It was wet. I was enchanted.

"Princess, wait!" No Daddy. No Please. Please. My hand stopped, but I didn't let go. "This is very nice of you, Sweetness. The nicest thing you could do. But," I begged, I pleaded. "I need something else." Daddy rolled over to face me. My hand held like a vice. I was afraid that if I lost his member now, that I would lose it forever. I held my breath. Daddy leaned forward and gave me a sweet, tender kiss. His hand rested on my hip and he slowly moved it up, inch by excruciating inch.

My hand started again, like the piston of a train just starting up. It got faster and more vigorous as Daddy's hand moved up. "I just need a little more." Daddy's hand reached under my shirt and touched the bottom of my jiggling breast.

"Yes, Daddy." This time it wasn't an acknowledgement, it was a plea, a prayer.

Daddy's hand clutched my tit and I felt his thumbs brush my erect nipple. "My God, Baby Girl. They feel as good as they look."

"Daddy... Daddy... Daddy..." I whispered. My hand pumped his cock, eliciting groan after grunt out of Daddy. Now his hips were thrusting in time with my hand and the wetness from his tip had smeared my hand, making his whole cock slick. My own body undulated with his caresses. His fingers tweaking and teasing my nipple sent tiny rushes of pleasure all through my body.

"Princess... fuck!" Daddy groaned. The bucking of his hips came faster and more vigorous, and it was all I could do to keep my grip on his sliding, pumping dick. He pinched my nipple hard and I produced a groan of my own.

And then it happened. Daddy's groan became deep and savage. He threw his head back, and I could see the straining of his neck muscles. Something happened with his cock. There was a thump, then another thump, like the beating of a heart. I felt something hot and wet on my leg, and when I brought my other hand down, I felt the slickest, hottest thing I had ever felt in my life. Daddy's cum.

And Daddy kept cumming. It got on my leg, my hand, even my belly. I wanted it never to end. I wanted Daddy to cover me with his cum. I wanted it in my pussy and mouth and ass. Daddy gave one final grunt and a tremble, and the last carnal jet oozed down my hand like warm wax down the side of a candle.

My eyes moved up Daddy's body from his cock. His face was slack jawed, as if he was still shocked that I had the boldness to seize his dick and drain it. His hairy chest heaved and his body gave one last little convulsion. For a moment all that I could hear was our breathing.

"Princess..." Daddy whispered, a haunted look in his eyes.

When it had dawned on me exactly what I had done, I felt the panic rise inside me. I felt blazing with life. I had crossed a threshold, and Daddy had done it willingly, no eagerly, with me. But how would Daddy feel tomorrow? Somehow I knew he would feel guilty and upset, like he had taken advantage of me. Christ, I had just jacked off my Daddy, and I had his cum all over me. "Oh no, Daddy! I'm sorry, please don't be mad!"

Daddy gulped. His eyes flitted from my hands, still wrapped around him, to my face. "Shhh!" he said, "Just... go clean yourself up, Amanda." His voice was neutral, but in a forced way. I knew he was holding a lot back, but I had no idea what. Was he angry with me and not ready to say so to me in my vulnerable state? Was he pleased and too guilty to even give the feeling voice? Maybe he couldn't even decide how he felt.

The cum on my leg and hand glistened in the dark. I pried my hand open and freed Daddy from my grip. The cum oozed down my hand. I had fantasized so many times about this being inside me. And now I had it. I didn't want to get rid of it. "But Daddy... I..."

"Go in the bathroom and get clean. Now."

I didn't know what to do. Daddy was mad and it broke my heart to see it. Worse, he was probably disappointed. I wanted him to stop being mad. I need to do something impressive or amazing, or outrageous. At least the shock would dull his anger, I hoped.

There was a way I could shock Daddy and get my wish.

I raised my hand up to my mouth, slow and steady. My eyes were locked with Daddy's, and he opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out from between his trembling lips. Like a cat cleaning its paws, I raked my tongue across my hand, feeling Daddy's sweet jelly entering my mouth. I don't know what I expected, but I didn't expect it to taste salty. Daddy kept watching, slack jawed and silent.

Once my hand was clean, I collected the dollop of cum from my leg and inserted my filthy finger into my mouth. Just like when I ate the pie. No wonder Daddy wasn't stopping me. The last bit of Daddy had landed right below my belly button, soiling the sparse red hair leading to my pussy. I deftly collected it, using what I learned when making Daddy's lewd video.

It was all clear now. Daddy had known what he was doing the whole time. When he was in the Caymans next to Mom's frustrated, frosty body, he was seeing how far he could push. But the conflict was inside him too just as it was inside me. And all the more because he was supposed to be the benevolent guardian, and I his little naive girl.

It didn't take long for Daddy to fall asleep.

—

The next day Daddy left a note for me. He told me that he was showing the restaurant to the guy who had bought it and would be back that night. He wanted me to clean up in the living room and make the bed. I hadn't even noticed him getting up. I didn't even bother getting dressed.

What a day to be left to my own thoughts. I was listless and my mind was fogged. Last night had seemed like a dream, but I knew better. So I got what I wanted. At least part of it. And I knew that Daddy was into it. So why did I feel sick inside? My mind was dominated by my slick hand pounding his cock, the taste of his hot cum, and the shocked expression on his face.

Downstairs there were still two half-drained wine glasses and the opened bottle. The cushions were disheveled where Daddy and I sat. I picked up the first glass and drained it in one gulp. Booze had never provided any solace to me in my worst times, but I felt I needed to do something. I drained the other glass before placing it in the dishwasher.

All day I would alternate between horny, guilty, and elated. Sometimes the emotions would collide with each other. Like when I brought out Dylan. I looked at the purple plastic thing. It seemed like a lifetime ago when I had discovered it and treated myself to its pleasures. I clutched it in my fist and it felt such a poor facsimile after having real, warm, throbbing meat in my hand. How could I have done this? My tears dripped on the unmade bed and I put the doleful toy back.

Alcohol had never helped me when I felt like this, but sleep did. There was something about checking your mind out of reality for hours at a time. It was the ultimate escape, more than any drug. My body was weak and tired from my emotions tossing me about like a ragdoll.

I wasted most of my day staring at my phone. I had a book I cracked and read for a couple of hours. But the thought of Daddy and what he did to me, and what he was going to do to me haunted me all day. My stomach was gurgling by the afternoon.

When Daddy got back what would he say? What would he do? Trite as it was, I did fear his disappointment more than his anger. Anger was quick and cheap and fleeting. A foolish and petty emotion. Disappointment, on the other hand, was a betrayal. It couldn't exist without long, deliberate building of expectations. While anger was soon gone, disappointment was permanent and destructive. I fell asleep with my cheeks wet with tears.

The jingling of keys woke me on the unmade bed. Shit. I rushed to get the bed made as I heard Daddy downstairs in the kitchen. The room was dark. When I finished it wasn't perfect, but it was done. Daddy was neat, but never needed it perfect. Maybe I was safe.

"Amanda?" I jumped as if a snake had bitten me and whirled to face Daddy. He stood there in the doorway with a glass of wine in his hand. He had that false calm on his face again.

"How did it go, Daddy?" I tried my own fake emotion with a plastic smile.

Daddy shook his head and sighed. "I'm tired. It's almost time for bed." He took a couple of steps toward me.

My dry throat gulped. "Ok, Daddy..."

Daddy's free hand seized my wrist. I gasped, but I didn't dare pull away. Instead I froze. Daddy's facade was slipping, and the anger underneath crept through the cracks. "Daddy, what-?"

"Quiet," he growled. It wasn't loud but it was the most threatening tone I had ever heard Daddy use with me. His jerking grasp dragged me into the guest bedroom. "Sit." His teeth clenched.

I sat on the bed and looked up at Daddy. His face was filled with darkness and I couldn't possibly hold his gaze. A tear rolled down my cheek.

"We need to talk." His voice was slow and measured. "About last night."

Of course Daddy would get straight to the point. All I could do was silently nod and stare at the floor. A tear splashed on my bare leg. Daddy was quiet again, and I felt like a death row inmate waiting for the warden to throw the switch.

Daddy cleared his throat. His voice came out strained. "What happened, happened. There's no turning back, Amanda. Last night was your fault and mine." He took a deep breath. "The point is, I've had all day to think about this. There are going to be some big changes around here. There are things you need, Amanda. And I would be a bad father if I didn't give them to you. You're my daughter, and you're to listen to and obey me. If you don't there will be consequences. Is that clear?" Though I was frightened, the steel in his voice somehow steadied me, it reminded me of my place.

"Yes, Daddy." I croaked.

"Look at me." I couldn't. "Damn it, I told you to look at me!" Daddy's face was red with anger, but there was also a deep sadness there. His eyes were polished and glassy. "This is how it's going to be from now on, because I'm moving you in. You need me now. So in a couple of days we're going to Seattle to get all your stuff." All I could do was gape.

"And also," Daddy turned his head, as if searching for the words. "You're never to do anything like that again. You don't touch me like that without my permission. Is that clear?"

"Yes Daddy." I whispered.

"I'm talking to you, Amanda. Speak up!"

"Yes Daddy." My voice quavered.

"There's one more thing. A lot of your problems come from your body issues, Amanda. You wear clothes that hide what you look like. It does you no good, and I'm not going to put up with it. I'm going to lay out your clothes each day and you're going to wear them. I'm also going to go through your clothes and we're getting rid of the ones I don't approve of."

I took deep, calming breaths. "Ok, Daddy."

Daddy took a step toward me. "Hey, I know this is scary." His voice had noticeably softened, and his hand was firm and gentle. "But I can see what you need now, Amanda. I didn't know you needed me this much. All this is because I love you and it's what you need. If you don't see now, then you'll see one day. But for now you have to do everything I say. Daddy knows best." His dark eyes skewered me. Somehow this made me sob.

"Daddy knows best," I repeated.

He placed his hand on my shoulder and rubbed it. His hand held me down, and prevented me from being swept away by my own emotions. He gingerly wiped away a tear with his finger.

Daddy got up, and I heard the clatter of hangers as he went though the closet. "There's not much clean here." There was frustration in his tone. He turned around with one of my old spaghetti strap undershirts. It was a little too small for me now. He threw it on the bed.

"Stand up," he ordered. Without a thought I stood. Daddy lifted my arms over my head and I held them there. He pulled my t-shirt over my head. My tits were completely exposed to him, and I felt mortified. At the same time I felt heat rising inside me again as Daddy eyed me. My hands shot up, covering my shame. Just as quickly Daddy placed his hands on mine and pulled them away. I couldn't resist. He lifted the undershirt and pulled it down over my head. The undershirt clung to my belly and the bottom of it hung out. It didn't feel flattering to me but at the same time I didn't hide anything.

Then horror struck me as I felt Daddy's thumbs at the waistband of my panties. In one fluid motion he pulled them down. "Come on Princess, lift your legs." I did, hot tears running down my face again. I gushed inside and worried the wetness would reach Daddy's nose. My hands dashed to cover my pussy, but this time all it took was Daddy shaking his head to pull them away. My red bush was on full display. I had never shaved, and I was always afraid of poking myself if I trimmed it. So it was wild and natural. He stayed straight faced and his eyes lingered on my pussy.