The Resort - Fathers and Daughters

"But it's okay that we're spending this much? I never really gave it much thought, but now that we're here..."

"Sam, you know I make decent money. We're not rich, but we can afford this. What are you actually anxious about?"

"I...I just feel like I'm already asking you for a lot, by even being here. I don't want to put more stress on you. I don't want to be a burden to you, daddy."

Gordon leveled his gaze at her, eyes turned hard and severe.

"You're not, Sam, and you never have been. Get that idea out of your head. You're the most important thing in my life, and you have been for your entire life. Maybe I haven't been as good at showing that as I should have been, but it's true, and I'm going to make sure that you know it from now on. Starting on this trip."

"Daddy, I...all right. I love you."

"I love you too, Sam."

Then, although neither of them seemed to decide to do so, they held hands. Each reached for the other at the same moment, and their fingers entwined naturally. It was such a universal gesture, and he'd held her hand many times before, but somehow, never like this. He wasn't treating her like a little girl, and she could feel it in this simple touch. This was courtship.

Sam expected another rush of nervousness, but it didn't come. She was no bashful girl, not really. Instead, she felt a depth of warmth and love for the man who had raised and protected her, who had supported her after the great tragedy of the past year, and who had trusted her enough to come with her on this trip. She felt something else, too, that she'd never felt on any other date. It was anticipation, but also more than that. It was a constant buzz, a state of sitting on the razor's edge of arousal. Before, she had found herself shamefully attracted to her own father, but now, it was different. It was perpetual receptiveness, an openness that was almost forced upon her. She was completely ready and available to him, this older, handsome man who she desperately wanted to want her.

For the first time, Sam admitted to herself that she would do anything he asked of her, no matter how demeaning or transgressive. She wanted him to demand her, to take her, to tear her dress, and bite her neck. She loved him, wholly and truly. She still felt guilt and shame over it, but she no longer fought it. She simply accepted it. It was, in the end, the way things were. The heart wanted what it wanted, and she was grateful that her father felt at least some of the same attraction.

"Here you go," the waitress said, placing two glasses and a bottle of deep red wine down in front of then. It was the first time she had spoken, and Sam jumped a little as if she were a girl caught doing something naughty.

"Thank you," Gordon said. "We'll have the prime rib, the asparagus, a salad, and some of the lobster bisque, please."

Before Sam could speak, the waitress was gone. Sam raised an eyebrow in mild annoyance at her father.

"So, you're deciding what I'm eating?"

"For tonight, I am. Did I order poorly? Does it bother you that I'm taking charge tonight?

Sam swallowed at the implication.

"No...to both questions. I guess I wasn't expecting it."

"You weren't supposed to. Tonight we're going to do things like this. Later, we'll be on more even ground."

"How so?"

"You'll see."

* * *

Meghan ate crab, got messy, and had fun. This had been the best date of her life, and nothing had really happened yet. With the boys in her class, she felt pressured to be a certain way, or worse, to perform sexually. No one had ever forced her to do anything, but she could feel the expectation. Her father...Alexander wasn't like that.

Meghan reached over and swiped a little bit of butter off of the side of Alexander's cheek, licking it off of her finger. She met his eyes as she did it, and giggled a little bit afterward. She never thought that she would have had the courage to do that on a date, much less with her own father. He smiled at her and pushed a few escaped, deep-red curls behind her ear. She felt a tingle run through her as if he had done something much more meaningful.

That was the difference between the boys she'd seen and her father. They had pressured, but he seduced. She didn't understand the word before, except in a teasing, provoking way. He was doing something much more sophisticated. He touched her in the most innocent of ways, but with the most sensual intentions, and let her know it by how he looked at her. He complimented her in many ways, and not just audibly. The waitresses here tended to be in very short skirts and tight shirts. They were active and agile and continuously bending and moving around them. Not once had her father done more than glance at one, and even then only to speak to them before returning his undivided attention to her.

It was intoxicating to be the focus of an older man's attention. More so than the alcohol that she was drinking.

"I think that's enough," Alexander said as Meghan polished off the last of her beer.

"I've only had two, Daddy," Meghan said, but it was a minor objection. She was very relaxed and happy.

"I know, kitten, but I want you to be awake tonight. You know why, right?"

"Y-yes, Daddy," Meghan said, suddenly flushing. She had no inkling on what her father had planned for her, not really, but she knew it would be more than simple kissing. She hoped it would be.

"Good. Do you feel comfortable going back to the room with me, or do you want to find a nice place on the beach? Maybe in one of those alcoves?"

There it was, the choice. He did not give her an opportunity that allowed her to back out, but Meghan knew that he would stop if she asked.

She would not ask.

"Let's go back to our room, Daddy," Megan said, a sly little smile on her face. "I kind of want to be alone with you."

"All right," Alexander said, before putting his hand on his daughter's leg, as he had done many times before. This time, however, Meghan could not suppress a shudder of anticipation.

* * *

"Come around the table and sit in my lap."

Gordon spoke to her with a gentle firmness that Sam had become accustomed to over the years, but there was another layer beneath it, of steel. She recognized that there would be consequences if she didn't obey. He was her father, and he would not tolerate her willfulness tonight. A part of her thought about what it might be like to deny him, to see what he might do. She was not truthfully a rebellious girl, but the idea of Gordon forcing her to comply filled her with a flutter. That was for another time. For tonight, she would obey without question.

Sam stood up and strolled around the table. She felt as though all eyes were upon her even though she knew that most everyone else was involved in their own private conversations. She moved in front of her father and gave him a small, shy smile. Sam would never think of herself as innocent, and despite what she may have wished, she was certainly no virgin. Still, under her handsome father's confident gaze, she felt like one, and she loved him a little more just for that. As she sat in his lap rather primly, the pinch of predictable guilt was there but was dulled by the ache of need and...and the love in her heart.

"Relax, bijou," Gordon said, and Sam realized that she was tense, everywhere. She took a deep breath and let herself relax into his body, conforming to his harder lines and settling into his arms. The chair he sat in was large and comfortable, and doubtless, things like this happened here with some frequency. Sam was distracted, but she was sure she heard some telltale moaning from a few tables over.

Sam nuzzled into her father's neck, and kissed it, tasting him. She felt herself growing sensitive and wet. She knew that she was ready for him. If he asked her, she would bend over the table, or simply get on all fours on the ground. It was a profoundly sensual thought, and her hand bunched into a small fist on his chest.

"Good girl," Gordon said. It could have come out in a patronizing or infantilizing way, but instead, it was soothing and comforting. Sam could hear the love in his voice, the calm reassurance of his presence and strength. She felt the last of her tension leaving her body as she unconsciously parted her legs in readiness. Her father placed his hand on her knee, and she quivered in anticipation. She was ready, but he was agonizingly slow. All the men, no, boys she had been with had been in a rush. Even the one who had tried to get her off, but he was so...so controlled. It was, in and of itself, a turn on for her.

"Dadddddy," Sam said, but couldn't bring herself to speak anymore. She was surprised to find herself borderline whining, sounding years younger than she was. She was worried that this would turn him off, but instead, he just chuckled, low and hungry. He still didn't move his hand from her knee. Dammit.

"Do you want me to make you feel good, bijou?"

Sam nodded. Surely he could feel that movement against his neck and chest. But it wasn't enough.

"I need you to say it, honey. I need to hear your beautiful voice say the words. You can stop, too. Any time you want."

Sam didn't want to stop. She wanted her father's touch. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted his cock thrusting into her, claiming her. She knew that he wouldn't give that to her tonight, and it drove her wild.

"Daddy, please...please touch me. I'll be so good for you. I'll do anything you want if you just...oh...oh god..."

Sam's father, ever cunning, hadn't waited for her to finish asking. Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt his hand pass up her leg, then slide inside her inner thigh. She felt the rough warmth of his fingers, and then the sensation changed, and he was just outside her underwear. God. Her father was touching her, and she didn't just enjoy it, she was rolling her hips forward, desperate to grind on his hand.

Gordon moved his hand up further under her dress, to her belly. She felt herself quiver under his hand. She was embarrassed by it. She knew that she was a bit overweight. She didn't really try to hide it, and most of the time, she felt confident in her curves, knowing that a lot of boys, and men, found her sexy. Now, though, she thought of all the slender ingenues that her father must have experienced through the years. Wouldn't he rather have their firm bodies and perky little tits? As if to answer her worries, he removed his hand to lose the strings that held her bodice in place, and then returned it underneath her dress. She felt his palm over her nipple. She moaned as he gently squeezed her large breast in his hand.

"God, Daddy..."

"I love your tits, bijou. Maybe if I was a better man, I wouldn't have noticed them, but they look amazing in that dress, and they feel so heavy and firm and...perfect. You're my fantasy girl, Sam. I can't avoid thinking about you anymore. It's taking all of my control not to just...well...you know..."

"You don't need to stop yourself. You can do what you want to me."

Sam shocked herself with her own words. They were real, but still, she'd never allowed her thoughts out. Not even to her therapist.

"Oh, bijou. You're quite the little temptress, aren't you? I have so many things that I want to show you, but...I want to do this right. I want it to be right for you. I want you to know that it isn't just that I want you. I want you to know that I love you."

"I know that, Daddy. I...oh god...Daddy...I..."

Sam's words broke down as her father moved into sudden action. His strong fingers tweaked her plump nipple, and she cried out. His other hand slid down and into her panties. Sam felt herself respond even before he touched her, thrusting her hips out as her legs parted further. Then, finally, he touched her.

As his cunning fingers slid between her very swollen folds, they met no resistance. Sam was dripping and felt as though everyone in the restaurant must have been able to smell her arousal. Her panties were almost ruined, and with some shame, she realized that she must be making her dress wet, and her father's pants as well. Her body tensed, and her thoughts vanished then, all worry and even the long-constant guilt gone.

Gordon's finger slipped inside of her. Just one, but god, it was so long and agile, and she squeezed it tight with her internal muscles. She couldn't relax, although she welcomed its presence. Her father, or at least some small portion of him, was inside of her. Finally. It would have been enough for her to cum if he had simply left it there, and she could flex her hips, but he wasn't that kind of man. Sam's father was the sort of lover who very much wanted his partners to enjoy themselves. Soon, Gordon's finger began to piston inside of Sam's pussy, and her back arched involuntarily.

The orgasm took her, but Gordon didn't let up. He was ruthless with his little girl, squeezing her breasts hard as his finger thrust inside of her. His thumb, seemingly operating independently of the rest of his hand, began to stroke her clit aggressively. For some, it might have been too much, but it was exactly what Sam needed. How had he known? Her body tensed and released, tensed, and released. Again and again. She heard someone shouting her father's name and wondered how they could be so loud in a public restaurant, but then realized with some surprise that it was her own voice. She finally collapsed, limp in her father's arms, sobbing his name. At last, he showed her mercy and pulled his finger out of her.

Sam wanted it back almost immediately, despite being a wet, oversensitive mess.

"That's my Sam. You were so good for me, bijou. So good. It's all right. Just rest in Daddy's arms ...we'll go back to the room soon and..."

But Sam didn't hear any more. She had fallen asleep in her father's arms, at peace for the first time in a long time. As she dozed, Gordon picked her up and carried her out of the restaurant, the hostess watching them leave with a mix of envy and admiration. He carried her like a bride, and she felt weightless in her arms. As he strode down the path onto the beach, Sam made a small noise and cuddled into his chest. He smiled and kissed her on her head.

Gordon would let his daughter walk home if she woke up, but if not, he was more than happy to carry her all the way. She was his one and only girl, after all.

SEX ON THE BEACH

As Sam was being carried out of the restaurant. Meghan and her father were walking back to their hotel room. They were still on the beach, ambling slowly. Part of Meghan wanted to hurry back, but part of her was terrified about what was ahead. She instinctively knew what kind of rewards lay ahead of her, and she wanted them, but she knew that a price had to be paid first.

Meghan feared paying the price, but more than that, she feared enjoying it. She couldn't have explained why, but her father could if he wanted to. He didn't.

Meghan and her father walked on the beach together, just one of many couples of older men and younger women. Some were Meghan's age, many were older, in their late twenties, and some were even in their late middle-age. Meghan found that reassuring, somehow. These were women who had somehow maintained incestuous and loving relationships with their fathers for many years. Presumably, they had managed to keep their romances secret and, hopefully, pleasurable for both parties. Meghan still worried that she wouldn't be enough for her father. Her mother had, on several occasions, hinted that she had a great deal of sexual experience before she had met Alexander, and that had unintentionally stoked Meghan's jealousy and sense of inadequacy.

Would he be satisfied with her? Would a little girl like her even be able to make a man like him cum? He must have better-looking women throw themselves at him all the time, and...her thoughts petered off, her fears and anxieties temporarily abated by what she saw.

Lots of couples like Meghan and Alexander were walking in the early evening, outlined by the light from tiki torches and bonfires. A man, roughly of Alexander's size and build, but dark-skinned was fighting with his daughter while various others watched, both interested and amused.

No, that wasn't right, Meghan realized with some abashment. The girl was taller than Meghan and full-figured. Her natural hair, curly and bold, fell over her bare shoulders. Her own skin gleamed in the firelight, and it emphasized the curves that her tiny bikini showed off in abundance. She had her hands crossed over her chest and suddenly stomped her foot. It was, Meghan reflected, quite evident that she was behaving like a brat, and probably on purpose.

Alexander chuckled, and Megan blushed. She felt her own father put his arm around her waist and pull her close, and she relaxed. They both knew the game that was being played in front of them, and Meghan suspected that in the future, her own behavior would have consequences similar to what was about to unfold here in front of them.

The dark-skinned girl shook her head, and her body quivered enchantingly as she did. She was gifted in quite a few areas, Meghan reflected with a bit of bitterness about her own form. Nonetheless, she could admit that she found the girl attractive and was curious as to how this would go.

"Hey," Sam said, surprising Meghan. Sam was walking alongside Gordon, holding her shoes with one hand and her father's hand with the other.

"You look...relaxed," Meghan said with an evident smirk. Even in the firelight, Sam's blush could be seen quite clearly.

"We've had an enjoyable date," Sam said, without adding details. "How has yours been?"

"It's been wonderful," Meghan said, squeezing her father's hand. "It's not over yet, though."

"I see," Gordon said, sharing a look with Alexander. "Well, we better get going. I've gotta get Sam home. She passed out a little ways back, and I think she needs to be put straight to bed."

The innuendo was obvious. Meghan watched her new friend's expression turn dreamy and then a little intense.

"Good luck," Sam said, before walking off with a bit more determination towards the Resort proper, almost dragging her father behind her. Meghan would have loved to see what they were going to get up to.

"So," Alexander said quietly. "Do you want to go back to the room, or do you want to see what's going to happen here?"

Meghan looked at the argument unfolding before them. It looked like the girl was getting a Stern Talking To from her father. With the understanding of a fellow brat, she knew that this was the end of a game that the couple had played many times before, to similar conclusions.

"Can we stay a little longer?" Meghan desperately wanted her father, but she also wanted to know what happened to this beautiful, disobedient girl.

"You heard me," the girl's father said with relaxed confidence. "Assume the position, baby girl."

"Here, Daddy? I don't know..."

The man landed a hard swat on his daughter's ass, and she yelped. Meghan jumped a little bit and was astonished to find herself wondering if her own father would do that to her. Would he lay hands on her in public? Before, she might have found the idea toxic at best, but now it seemed intriguing.

"Don't talk back," he said firmly, but without any real anger.

"H-hey...you don't have to be mean. I'm doing it, Daddy."

The young woman carefully untied her bikini and then looked around at the others on the beach, suddenly aware of all the eyes upon her. She covered her chest for a moment, then bit her lip and let the top drop, allowing her heavy breasts to sag and sway, certainly no less attractive for doing so. Meghan understood at that moment the war between desire and shame. The battle between what she was told to want and what she desperately needed. The girl, a little older than Meghan, pushed her bikini bottoms off and stood, for just a moment, completely exposed and proud. Her pussy was shaved, and there was no hiding the swollen urgency of her need. Then, without further ado, she got on her hands and knees, facing away from her father. In the dim firelight, Meghan could see the fluid of the girl's arousal dripping down her ebony skin.