To Capture a Heart

Synopsis: Slutty daughter likes to tease her father, and eventually wants to have kids with him.

This story has a long build-up. I should add that I'm not a native speaker.

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"Hey Dad," I chirped happily, opening the door for him when he came home from work. I took off his coat, and leaning onto his arms I kissed him on his lips, and then hung his coat.

"Baby..." he mumbled tentatively, taking off his shoes. "We have to talk."

I already figured as much as soon as I had seen his dejected face, but I didn't show any of it and instead just nodded in enthusiasm.

"You can't kiss me on my lips," he heaved, clearly relieved he'd said it.

"Why not, Dad?" I had started doing that a few days ago at my friend's insistence, and the whining had already begun.

"Because I'm your Dad!" he stated matter of factly.

"That's not a legitimate reason," I countered.

"Girls your age don't kiss their father on their mouth, and you know it. It's inappropriate."

"Ha!" I laughed at his face, "it's the twenty-first century, hello? Move with the times, old man."

"That has nothing to do with it, Amelia."

"Melissa kisses her dad."

"Your friend Melissa?"

I nodded.

"No way," he laughed mockingly, "I know her dad. He doesn't kiss his daughter."

I could tell by his inquiring look he was curious to hear what I had to say.

"He does. When I go to her place she kisses her dad as well, and even sits on his lap."

"Yes, about that..." he said, clearing his throat. "You can't do that either. I can see right up your mini-skirts and see your panties. It's inappropriate. Last night was nice and all, but if you want to watch my violent movies along with me you can't be sitting on my lap from now on, understood?"

"I guess we can't all have fun dads like Melissa," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"Baby, don't say that!" he cried.

"You want to hear what I have to say?"

"Sure," he replied as his eyes grew big and his chest heaved.

"I think you wished you had a son instead of me."

"That..." he said, pausing as he raised his finger, "is a horrible thing to accuse me of! I have never wished for a son because I have always been happy with you!"

"You have a funny way of showing it, you realize that, right? You come home from work, and then you're like 'hey', and then you take a shower, read the newspaper, then Mom's back from work and prepares dinner and we're having dinner and then you plop down on the couch to watch your... movies... and then you mumble a 'good night' and the next day we repeat--"

"What do you expect from me?" he yelled, "that I go out of my roof whenever I see my daughter again?"

I cast my eyes down, feeling the anger rise in my veins.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," he apologized. "I'm just tired from work when I come home, that's all."

"What about tomorrow until Friday, when you work from home?"

"What about it?"

"Nevermind," I said in anger, not interested in the conversation anymore. It was no use anyway. I tried to walk away but Dad grabbed me by my arm.

"Will you at least tell me what's going on in your mind?"

"Okay," I sighed angrily, "remember when you used to tickle me on the couch and kiss me all the time, and how we used to cuddle on the couch? And how you used to laugh when I'd steal the biggest meat piece you had on your plate? How you... used to tuck me in."

"You were little," he laughed in a rather indulgent way.

"Remember when I came home from school on my nineteenth birthday and you were there in the living room, waiting for me to come home?"

"Yes."

I could tell he remembered by the playful twinkle in his eyes.

"Daddy, I didn't see you hiding behind that huge wrapped-up gift you had standing in the middle of the room. And when I turned around to see if anyone was home, you grabbed me from behind, and I screamed out in fear."

"Yes, that was funny," he laughed wholeheartedly.

"For a moment I thought I was about to get raped, but then I saw it was you."

"Okay..."

"Anyway, what I didn't tell you is that I was bullied at school that day. If it weren't for you, I think I would've gone to my room to cry my eyes out."

"I never realized... I... are you still getting bullied at school. I mean... at your age... girls do that?"

"Grown-ups do it too, they're just better at it."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he sighed, petting my back.

"Uh, so..." I stammered, "Uhm, then you were there, and helped me open that huge present. And then you kissed me and hugged me," I whispered, and paused. "You told me you loved me. I still think about it when I use that treadmill."

"Well..." he mumbled, clearing his throat again, "I still love you just as much. I hugged you and kissed you because it was your birthday!" He smiled broadly as he stared into my eyes.

"Well, maybe I need it more than only one day a year, Dad. Do you know how much it hurts to see Mom and you giggle on the couch? To see you approach her every single day from behind when she's busy in the kitchen, and start whispering in her ear. Or when you... when... when you give your mattress a workout every fucking night, while my room is next to yours, and even my bed practically is, only separated by a thin wall. I can hear giggling before you guys start fucking and then I wonder what you are doing to her. And then I can hear you grunting atop her. It's like I'm not even there. Like I'm invisible to you, day and night!"

"So what are you saying? You want me to start fucking you as well?" Dad chuckled, thinking he was funny.

"Of course not, you're such a jerk!" I glared at him angrily. "I want you to show me that you love me. When I'm over at Melissa's, I realize how fucked up our relationship is. It's like you're my awkward stepdad or something."

"Are you sure you're not exaggerating at least a little?" he smiled warmly.

"No. But the fact you don't realize it makes me think maybe this conversation had better not happen. It's not like you're going to change, anyway. And you can let go of my arm now, it's nearly dead."

Startled he let go of my arm, chuckling lightly.

"You think this is a laughing matter?" I asked agitated. "Do you even realize how difficult it has been for me?"

"I--I don't know what to say to you," he stammered, nervously laying his hand on his neck. "You make me out to be one of the worst dads ever."

"You're... aloof," I huffed. "You don't give me attention. I've thought about it, you know, up in my room? I thought- hey, maybe he's just autistic - and forgave you. But then I went downstairs and saw how you playfully teased Mom and how she giggled and y--"

"Okay, okay," he moaned, "enough about Mom, already. What would you like to change?"

I smiled up at him. "I'd like it if things wouldn't be so awkward between us. If I didn't have to sit three feet apart from you on the couch worrying you'll become uncomfortable and think it's inappropriate if I sit any closer to you."

"All right, I can do that."

"I sit closer to my teachers when they're tutoring me after school."

"You're behind i--."

"Yes, I think it reflects on my concentration."

This seemed to make him realize I wasn't just begging for misplaced attention.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie, I didn't know..."

"What do you know?!" I asked rhetorically, defying him by putting my hands on my hips.

"Okay, I get it. We'll watch a movie Friday and cuddle a little, okay baby?" he asked, as he smiled wanly at me, as if it would somehow make everything okay.

"No. I want it to be more than that."

"Like what?" he asked me, becoming a little jumpy.

"We'll see what happens, and where your boundaries are. But if it was up to me, I'd like to develop a loving relationship where we mutually respect and love each other. One in which you'll give me a welcome feeling when I come home by kissing me, asking me about my day, and taking off my coat like I take off yours, and give me the feeling I'm not a burden anymore. Maybe plan something nice for the weekend for just the two of us."

He stared at the floor, his face flushed.

"Well, what do you think about that?" I demanded to know.

"Ah. I don't know, Am, I'd have to think about it. The relationship you just described seems more like a couple's than a father-daughter's. I mean me kissing your mouth?"

"It's just your lips, Daddy. A kiss. It's not like I'm asking you to put your cock in my mouth."

"All right, all right," he chuckled awkwardly as his hands made a soothing gesture. "As I said, I'll think about it, okay pumpkin?"

There wasn't any time left to talk anyway. I heard the front door open and Mom come in.

"Hey, Mom!" I chirped happily, and hugged her, and kissed her on her lips, putting on a display for my father.

****

When school was out on Wednesday, I didn't wait for my friends. I wanted to go home straight away. Dad would be working from home for the rest of the week.

I knew he was upstairs working in his soundproof home office, and couldn't hear me coming home. I took off my coat and shoes and walked up to his room.

"Hey Dad," I smiled at him through the open door. "Can I come in?"

"Heeyy, sure!" he responded cheerfully, and turned his chair to me, which I took as an invitation to go sit on his lap as soon as I'd get there.

"How was your day, Daddy?" I asked, walking toward him, and then without warning bent down, and planted my lips on his for a good long three seconds. My lips parted from his with a wonderful kissing sound.

"It was great, how was yours princess?" he mumbled shyly, petting the hair on my back.

"It was okay. I missed you though," I sighed, sitting down on his lap, and then gave him another kiss on his cheek. "Hmm, you smell like... uhh, I don't know... I have little experience with cuddling men," I giggled.

"Okay," he chuckled as his body froze, and his arms remained stiff next to his body.

"You're so stiff, Daddy!" I exclaimed and teasingly pushed against his chest.

He smiled a little, clearly uncertain about what to do.

"Is that your girlfriend?"

We both looked up in surprise at his laptop at a gray-haired man waving at us. I hadn't realized Dad had been in a meeting.

"Hi, there!" he waved at me. "Are you his girlfriend?"

What a nosey fellow...

"Y-yes," I answered with a smile plastered across my face.

"I figured he wasn't your real daddy, but it can't hurt to ask," he laughed.

I wondered if he had seen my cleavage when I had bent down earlier, or if he had been able to look up my mini-skirt.

I didn't like his sleazy smile, nor his little eyes staring at my body.

"So uhm, I'll leave you guys alone then... bye."

I waved both the man and my Dad goodbye and left as fast as possible.

The knock on my door ten minutes later was expected.

"Come in!" I yelled.

My father's red face and the slamming of my door didn't predict anything good.

"Why did you tell him you're my girlfriend?" he yelled in anger.

"You don't have to be so mad about it," I tried to calm him down.

"He knows I'm married, Amelia!"

"I'll explain to Mom when she gets back from work, what's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal, what's the big deal?" he huffed like a madman, "he's asking me things about you. About how old you are and where we met."

"If that's all," I shrugged indifferently.

"What your oral skills are like."

"Oh," I swallowed, taken aback by this confession.

"Yes," he exclaimed furiously.

"Well, then... uhm, if he asks again next time you can just tell him you broke up with me."

"This is not working, Amelia," he mumbled, heaving a deep sigh and wavering his finger. "I can't do this. I tried, but I just can't."

"I'm leaving next school year," I blurted out.

He silently stared ahead upon hearing this revelation.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because this place suffocates me! And so you can finally start fucking Mom during the daytime as well."

"What's missing in your life?" he asked with big eyes, shrugging his shoulders in ignorance, ignoring the rest of what I'd said.

"I'm missing love. Love is a feeling. You need to express it in certain ways I don't think you can. I kiss Mom, does that make me a lesbian?"

"It's different between women," he countered.

"The only difference is your cock, Daddy, and as far as I'm concerned it will stay safely tucked away in your pants."

"Don't talk like that, it's inappropriate."

My Dad didn't get me. He just didn't get me.

"I don't want to hear that word anymore. I hate that word. Why don't you go back to work and leave me alone? I'm tired of you. You won't have to be embarrassed any longer by my cleavage or my panties anymore, Daddy. And when I want to see Mom, I'll just ask her to come to visit me. And I'll tell her all about you. How you neglected me. Stop being so fuckin' boring all the time! But it's like whatever, I'm not a child anymore, I can deal with it!"

"You're my child!" he cried, as his lips quivered angrily.

This was getting out of hand. I grabbed my keys, heaving a sigh, feeling the start of a headache. It was going so well, but then it didn't...

"Why didn't you just tell me you were in a meeting?"

"I didn't know, I had said goodbye and they all logged out but him. I guess he must have heard you coming in and stayed online out of curiosity. I got distracted by you and forgot to log out myself.

"Okay," I nodded. "I'm going to have a long walk and when I come home I don't want to find you still in my room."

The hour-long walk in the cold winter breeze did me a lot of good. My anger had made place for pity. Perhaps I had been too harsh on my dad. He'd always only done what he thought was right. But I hadn't made empty threats at him. I really planned on leaving next year. I wanted to rent a room somewhere together with Melissa. We'd have fun.

When I got home Dad sat on the couch, waiting for me while he stared at the ground, looking a little abashed.

"Hey," he greeted me when he noticed me.

"Hey."

I sat down on the couch next to him. He immediately put his arm around me and pulled me close to him.

"I'm sorry about everything. I'll make it up to you, I promise," he whispered.

I felt sad for him then.

"It's okay, Dad. We still have time," I smiled comfortingly, and laid my hand on his upper leg.

"Are you still keen on moving out and living a poor student life by renting a cramped, overpriced room?"

"Yup."

"Imagine I would be this goofy, fun Dad you liked hanging out with--"

"Imagine that..."

"Yes. Would you still want to move out, then?" he asked, smiling wanly.

With furrowed eyebrows, and a small frown on his face his big blue eyes looked up at me, so incredibly sad as if pleading with me, the pain clearly etched on his face.

"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't," I confessed.

His smile spoke volumes upon hearing this. He'd probably thought of a solution when I was away, and maybe this was what that was.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked.

"Nhmmm--"

My dad shut me up, and how! He pressed his lips to mine before I could finish answering.

He let go and smiled. "Did you say something?" he asked with a mischievous grin on his face.

"I--"

Again he silenced me by kissing me.

"Sorry kiddo, you're going to have a lifetime of Daddy smothering you with kisses," he smiled, but I could tell it was forced.

I could tell by his unmoving, stiff body and his voice that wavered a little, but it was a beginning nonetheless. I didn't say anything, but he kept his prying eyes focused on my lips. I didn't risk speaking. After foolishly staring at each other, we laughed at our little game.

"See? It's working. You're already more fun than the previous years combined," I told him, and playfully pinched his ear. He rubbed his ear, glaring at me.

"I don't want to lose you, baby. And I mean that."

"I know." I exhaled deeply and started braiding my hair, anything to not look into those stern eyes of his. "Do you like my hair loose, in braids, or a low ponytail?"

"Hmm..." he began to speak, obviously not knowing what to answer. "I like them all," he chuckled then.

"Do you think my hair is beautiful?"

He gazed at my hands which were busy with my hair.

"I do," he nodded. I noted how he blushed a little.

"Don't you like blondes more?"

"I like brunettes just as much."

"I think it's better. If you're blonde they all assume you're the dumb, slutty type," I giggled.

He chuckled as he nodded in agreement.

"I've got homework. One more kiss to get the hang of it?" I asked, meanwhile laying my hand on his belly.

"Yes, but..." he spoke, but then went quiet, pondering his next words. "I'm not sure what Mom would think if she saw us like this."

"Mom won't mind," I replied casually, but I was unable to hide the disappointment in my voice.

"I didn't mean it like that," he reassured me. "One kiss is okay, but otherwise I'd prefer it if we only kissed when we're home alone. No kissing me when Mom's around."

"I won't!" I promised excitedly. "Now close your eyes."

"Nah, I don't trust you!" he laughed, studying my face with his inquiring eyes.

"I promise I won't start sucking on your cock," I giggled, smiling even broader when I saw the shocked expression on my father's face.

"Amelia, that's no language for a lady!" he said accusingly, giving me a very hard stare.

I couldn't tell whether he was kidding or not, but if he was, he was very good at keeping a poker face.

"Just close your eyes already," I complained.

"Okay," he gave in, and as soon as he closed his eyes he put both his hands over his crotch.

"Are you kidding me?" I laughed out loud, shaking my head in disbelief.

I leaned into him and tentatively kissed his jawline. It was kind of funny to kiss my father while his eyes were closed. It added to the excitement I felt, but the element of surprise surely played a role as well. It was like my dad was at my mercy.

I kissed the corner of his mouth. He didn't respond. Then I fully kissed him on his lips. Very slowly I removed my lips from his. His lips were like... uhm, I'm not sure, but it tasted delicious, like the best food I'd ever eaten. No wonder I lowered my lips on his again and gently bit his lower lip.

It startled him, and in an impulse, he pushed me off him.

"If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already," I laughed as he opened his eyes and moved a finger over his lips.

"Little bitch!" he yelled in mock anger.

"That was for all the times you looked up my skirt, perv..."

"Right," he chuckled and stood up. "I'm done with work, so I'll be cooking dinner today. Any requests?"

"Nope," I answered, but appreciated he asked.

Before I left to go to my room I saw he smiled as he walked over to the kitchen, even though he doesn't even like cooking. Yeah, I did that.

It turned out to be quite a challenge to focus on my homework. My mind kept going back to the kisses. They were different from the kisses I had shared with other men. Definitely different. It was like something forbidden, something you had to be careful about when you did it. Something Mom was never to find out. A secret between Daddy and me.

I wondered if he was having the same thoughts. Perhaps it was just me being easily swept off my feet because of my young age.

I laughed it away. I wasn't going to fall in love with him. No way. He's my father.

My bedroom walls trembled when the front door slammed shut. Great. Mom was home. Soon we'd have dinner.

After dinner, Mom left to go play tennis like every Wednesday. I was about to go upstairs and finish my homework but something stopped me. I looked back over my shoulder at Dad, sitting on the couch all alone...

Thrilled, I walked over to him and sat next to him. He watched the news, something I couldn't care less about, so instead, I played with my phone. Just being close to my Dad already lightened my mood. Mom usually came home late, chatting with the girls after playing, but I intended to wake up early the next day and do my homework then.