To Capture a Heart

I giggled a few times, not even noticing he read along on what was on my phone.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Can't read the tiny letters anymore, yes?"

"I can't, no. Not from this distance. Why are you giggling?" he smiled, meeting my gaze.

"You don't wanna know," I said, covering up my smile with my hand.

"I think I do," he said, very convinced about himself.

"Aight," I smiled up at him with an evil twinkle in my eyes. "You know this animal called a long-nosed monkey?" I asked, and showed him a picture.

"Ah, yes, very handsome fellow," he smiled widely and genuinely, knowing there was more to come.

"So, it turns out the bigger the nose, the more attractive he is to female monkeys."

"Interesting stuff Amelia, you learned that at school today?" He made no attempt to conceal the mischievous smirk on his face.

"I take free extra lessons at home."

"Nice," he chuckled.

"But it is kind of unfair for humans, don't you agree?"

"How do you mean?" he asked, somewhat surprised.

"Well, I mean, if us women want to know what a man has to offer we're fumbling in the dark."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean penises, Daddy," I explained, and to emphasize my words I pressed my index finger onto his crotch.

He jolted at that, nearly falling off the couch. I must have hit the right spot.

"You men have it easier, you can check out our tits whenever you like," I giggled, and proudly pushed my ample breasts forward, putting them on display for my father.

He sighed and leaned back on the couch, folding his hands behind his head. I guess he figured it was best to ignore me, but I wasn't finished yet.

"There's a trick though, that's what this website I'm reading is about."

He inhaled, lightly shaking his head as he stared at the TV.

He didn't respond when I took his hand from behind his head, held his palm out flat, and pushed his fingers next to one another.

"The first trick is to check if his ring finger is longer than his index finger, but one has to make sure he's checking the left hand."

"What?" he inquired, and then retreated his hand from mine in one fast motion.

"Your ring finger is! Anyway, the second one is a lot easier to check. It turns out men with bigger noses have bigger penises."

He chuckled, trying to hide the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"A bit difficult to hide your nose, isn't it?" I giggled, and playfully touched the tip of his nose.

"I pay your school to teach--"

"I told you I read this online, but you aren't listening, as usual. I think it's safe to say your nose is quite big... soooo..." I paused, reaching for my phone, "according to this website, if the man in question passes both tests, there is a chance of 73% he's got a big cock."

"Why are you reading that stuff?"

The smirk on his face was gone, replaced by a serious, solemn look that I had never seen before.

"Because I'm fascinated by cocks. They come in all shapes, colors, and sizes, and yet they're always out of sight, even though they are so beautiful, don't you agree?"

"No, I don't."

"You wanna tell me if I would be wearing that many clothes that you wouldn't even be able to tell how big my breasts were, you wouldn't subconsciously want to know? Just admit it Dad, you would."

"I thought girls liked men with humor and for how much green they have in their bank?"

"Yes we do, but it's kinda like a waste of time if he turns out to have a small pee-pee, no?"

"I don't know and I don't care. How would you feel if men turned women down because their labia are not to their liking?" Dad asked, frowning at me reproachfully.

"I wouldn't mind, mine are--"

"I don't wanna know about that sort of thing, sweetheart."

"I just found out you have a big cock, so why not?"

"Why are you fascinated by cocks?"

I accidentally glanced down at his crotch when he asked, and when we exchanged looks I flashed him a smile.

"It's nature. I'm fascinated by men, and men are fascinated by their cocks, caring more about that part of their body than any other," I smirked, and pushed my tongue against my right cheek.

"You're incorrigible," he laughed. "Let's watch a movie, or would you rather share more of your expertise about cocks?"

"Depends on whether you're interested or not."

"I'm not. Let's watch a movie."

"Okay."

I started cuddling a little, placing my hand on his belly and rubbing him there. I dozed off a little, waking up from time to time. The movie wasn't interesting.

"I'm bored," I complained to Dad. Maybe those 80's action movies were fun back then, but they bored the crap out of me today.

"It isn't as good as I had hoped," he admitted.

"Wanna hear something interesting?" I asked.

"Okey dokey," he answered, and then silence surrounded us as he turned off the TV.

"Did you know in the nineteenth century the eldest daughter was to replace her mother if she died?"

He listened with a puzzled expression on his face as I continued.

"People had many children back then, and women often died during childbirth. I read about a girl that was eighteen years old, imagine that Daddy, just four years younger than me, and she had to take care of her eleven siblings. But that wasn't all. At that time, fathers expected their eldest daughter to not only help in the household, but also to fulfill her mother's role as his wife."

Judging by his expression Daddy was a little worried.

"They waited until the mother was buried, and then the father would move the few possessions his daughter had into his bedroom, and at night he would undress her and tell her to lay down on the bed."

"That's horrible," he mumbled in disbelief.

"But the idea behind it is beautiful: most daughters look like their mother, so she will provide her father with offspring that resembles his deceased wife. To have a daughter that loves her father that much, isn't there beauty in that?"

"It's a lot to ask..."

"Yes, but there's another reason why. Say the father is your age, forty-five, and was married when he was twenty, because that's what they did Daddy, they married young because they were a financial burden to their parents, and took up room in the cramped house, and well... I suppose they wanted to have sex as well."

"Yeah..."

"So a man your age, being married at twenty, could have eleven children as well, and I would be your eldest daughter," I exclaimed, and becoming a little handsy I laid my hand on his crotch. "I would have grown up with a mother always walking around with a big belly, and a part of my brain would hope Mom would survive me, at least until I got married, leaving the responsibility to my younger sister. Did you know those fathers took their eldest daughter, regardless of their age? Those men were savages..."

"Is this true, Amm, or did you just make this up?"

His blue eyes fixed me with an ice-cold stare.

"That's a horrible thing to say, Dad!" I exclaimed angrily. "Imagine me saying: "Hmm, I don't know, did our fellow countrymen really die in World War II, or did they just make that up?"

"Take it easy," he chuckled, lifting my hand from his crotch and placing it on his knee.

"I mean it, Daddy, it's like slapping them in the face. Those men died for our freedom, and those women married their fathers so we could live."

"You're right, I'm sorry."

I looked at him, not sure if he knew the significance of this piece of our nation's history.

"You would have been the same person you are today, but the difference is you would have lived in another world. A completely different mindset! Do you understand?" I asked, simultaneously rubbing the length of his upper leg with the palm of my hand.

"Yeah, I do..."

"Can you imagine us living back then? I got born after you married Mom, so I'd be your eldest daughter."

"Sweetie, I don't want to think about such things."

"Yet you spend many nights watching World War II movies. It seems you care about one thing but choose not to care about another part of history, which is just as important."

"Eh, okay... how often did that happen?"

"All the time. People lived in a village, but sometimes remotely, all alone up in the mountains. They didn't have funerals like we have today. The husband just dug a hole behind his house and buried his wife. Then, in case his eldest daughter didn't quite realize what this meant for her, the father would unceremoniously tell her she were to replace all her mother's duties, including the marital duties to him."

Dad sighed, rubbing the temples of his head.

"Then at night, he would tell her to undress--"

"I get the picture--"

"No, this is important," I cut him off. "He would tell her to undress while he's already naked himself, his cock hard and throbbing with need, and she'd see the first naked penis in her life. She never even knew what it'd look like, I mean there was no porn back then. And then her father would tell her to bend over the bed, and he would stick that hard rod against her wet entrance, and moan softly into her ear she was no longer his daughter. He'd enter her, grunting and panting immediately, and somehow managing to tell her she was his wife now. Nine months later she brings her father immense joy by giving birth to a son, something her mother had been unable to do. See, those eleven children he had were all daughters. It's a horrible thing to think about, but there's also beauty in it, if you care to see it."

Dad cleared his throat, staring at our reflection on the TV. "I'd rather not know-- I mean, yes, you're right. They are our ancestors after all. I'm sorry sweetie," he smiled, and rubbed my back affectionately. "But I'm glad those days are over."

"Me too. Providing my husband with eleven children and then die is a horrible way of living," I smiled back. "Given I was lucky enough to marry a man and not my own father of course," I continued with a giggle, and moved my hand over his crotch to his belt. "Imagine having a repulsive man as a Dad that you're forced to make love with every night."

"Right," he laughed.

My fingers fumbled with his belt as I looked at it and then gazed up at his handsome face and flashed a broad smile at him.

"I'm glad you aren't repulsive!"

"Stop touching me down there, you're deliberately making me hard!"

Dad's stern look was back, as well as the ice-cold look in his big blue eyes.

"You're so uptight, I just told you daughters fucked their fathers and now you're going to whine about me rubbing you up a little?"

If Melissa did it, I could too. I liked being close to my father and I just happened to like touching him. No biggie, right?

But Daddy strongly objected. "It's not okay to touch me there. You may touch me anywhere, but not there."

"It's because you're such a cheap bastard, here feel my hands..." and saying this I took his hand in mine. "You feel how cold they are?"

"You're like your mother, her hands are always cold," he muttered, and froze for an instant.

"Because it's cold in here. I'm just warming them up a little," I smiled, and dug my hands between his legs.

He nearly jumped up from the shock, gasping for air.

"They're that cold, huh?" I laughed, basically holding his balls in my hands.

"I'll make a deal with you," he replied gruffly, grabbing both my wrists in his large hand, "I'll buy you a hot water bottle."

When he stood up and walked off, I thought I saw a swelling in his pants, but it all went so fast I couldn't be sure.

When Mom came home they left upstairs while Dad whispered to her. I tiptoed after them. Planting my ear at the door I heard them talking.

"Yes, it's about Amelia..."

"What has she done to upset you this time?"

"She has changed, Nicole! She's like a completely different person. She keeps asking for my attention in all the wrong ways."

"She's always been a bit of a flirt with you, she means no harm."

"I still think it's wrong."

"Be glad she likes you that much, other--"

"She started touching my crotch today."

"I'm sure it was accidental."

"No, it wasn't. She kept her hand there and after a few minutes she started touching me, like really rubbing me down there."

"I wanna go to bed," Mom sighed, "can't we discuss this in the morning?"

"It doesn't disturb you that your daughter is touching her father's penis?"

"Your pants, not your penis. She doesn't mean it in a sexual way."

"You're going to tell me she wants to learn how to drive stick if she starts grabbing my penis without my clothes on... I'm telling you sweetie, she kept talking about how fathers and daughters used to have sex with each other throughout history, almost normalizing the whole thing. I think there's something wrong with her."

I guess Dad still hadn't learned the lesson...

"She's always been a daddy's girl that craved your attention. But if you don't give her the attention she needs she's going to force it from you. Rubbing your penis is just guaranteeing her you won't ignore her."

"I got hard..."

"That's disgusting, Philip. Your own daughter!"

My ears perked up. Mom sounded really angry, I hadn't heard her like that in years.

"I left, okay? As soon as I got hard I left and went upstairs."

"Don't tell me you went upstairs to rub one out," Mom asked in derisive laughter.

"I went upstairs to distract my mind," Dad replied reproachfully.

Hmmm... Maybe I could peek through the keyhole? I bent forward, my ample breasts giving my Dad a perfect view if he'd open the door. I saw the back of Mom, waving around with her hands.

"Do something with your daughter for a change. Let her know you care about her. She's your only child, she's got no one other than us."

"She's got her friends," I heard Dad reply.

"It's not the same and you know it."

"Amelia's told me exactly the same. You both make me out to be the worst Dad ever! What'd I do to deserve this? I work hard for this family!"

"Well, see? You're too busy with work, locking yourself up in your study, excluding yourself from your daughter's life."

I swallowed nervously as Mom started undressing. She turned around and walked over to... the door?

It all went so fast, but then Mom walked away from the door again, most likely having dropped her clothes on the chair in the corner, behind the door.

"I'm working!" Dad said, starting to gesture with his hands as well. "Do you actually expect me to drop work and start chilling on the couch with my daughter as soon as she comes home? Call up my boss and tell him I'd be back tomorrow because my daughter just came back home from school again?"

I laughed a little at hearing that, I just couldn't stop myself. With bated breath, I kept lurking through the keyhole, but they hadn't heard.

"My relationship with my father was horrible, just horrible," Mom continued talking in a very annoyed tone, "It wouldn't even have crossed my mind to welcome my father home with a kiss, or to watch a movie with him. And your relationship with your father..." she said, pointing a finger at him, "was even worse. You ran off to me for a reason. If it wasn't for him you wouldn't even have married me."

"That's not true," he croaked.

"Oh, it is. I've always known you were secretly dating Melina."

There was a pause then. I kind of regretted that I was eavesdropping, simultaneously realizing there was so little I knew about their past. Melina was my mother's younger sister.

"You've known this the whole time, yet never told me?"

"I wasn't the only one," Mom replied accusingly, putting on her pajamas.

She was likely going to brush her teeth and wash up before bed, so I turned around and tiptoed down the stairs again.

"Good night," I heard Mom yell from above.

"Night Mom," I said, having just arrived in the living room.

I heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and then saw Dad, dressed in his pajamas, his face rather depressed.

"What's up, Dad?" I asked, genuinely worried things had escalated even more.

"Mom wants me to sleep on the couch tonight," he grumpily explained.

"That's never happened before," I smirked, trying to cheer him up.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Amelia. This is serious."

He sighed, seemingly not even interested in taking a shower like he did every night before bed.

I nodded apologetically. "Care to tell me what happened?"

It'd be suspicious if I didn't ask. I mean I had always been a little nosey...

"I rather not," he sighed again, sitting down on the couch. "Want to do something for your poor father?"

"Anything!" I chirped happily.

He tried so hard but miserably failed in hiding his smile then. I knew he knew I'd do anything for him!

"Give me that blanket you wrap around yourself when you go to bed. I don't have anything except for the pillows on the couch."

Uhm... that blanket lay on the floor in the corner of my room, with some of my other laundry. I had used it last night to rub my pussy with, horny as ever.

"I don't know Dad. I kinda wanted to wash it."

"Why? We have the same germs, don't we?"

"Uh, I'm not sure about that."

"Don't you start in on me too!" he replied irritated. "Hand over that blanket, or else it will be you sleeping on the couch."

"Okay," I playfully giggled, not impressed by his threatening.

But if he wanted to have that blanket I wasn't going to bring it to him. Or so I thought. A minute later I stood next to Dad.

"Lay down on the couch, Daddy, and let me tuck you in," I crooned. If Mommy wasn't showing my hard-working Daddy the love he deserved over something that had happened twenty years ago, I would gladly do it in her stead.

"I just need it as a blanket, but thanks anyway. You're very sweet."

Your grateful smile and your sky-blue eyes twinkling with amusement make it worth doing things for you every time, Daddy!

"No, you don't understand, this blanket is huge for a reason. You need to wrap yourself in it, it'll keep you warm."

I spread out the blanket over the length of the couch and asked my father to sit on it.

"Hmm, yes... good... now lay down."

I was happy he cooperated without complaining. I folded the blanket around him as far as it would go.

"Lift your butt, Daddy!"

When he did I wrapped it around him again, and again.

"This thing is amazing, where'd you get it?" he laughed.

I can resist everything except temptation, and hmm... that warm smile on Daddy's lips was very tempting!

"I got it from you on my twentieth birthday," I reminded him. It hurt me that he didn't even remember, but his sexy smile made me instantly forgive my father.

"I remember now," he pondered. "You only use it in bed, and your door always being closed, I forgot about it a little."

"That's okay," I whispered soothingly and gave Daddy a little smile, simultaneously climbing onto his body and pressing him down onto his back. "Here," I offered, lifting his head and then placing it on the couch pillow. "Maybe this isn't so bad after all."

"Baby, come on..." he begged, accusingly pushing his hips up against mine.

"What?" I asked, playing dumb.

I leaned back with my palms sliding down his lower legs, pushing my breasts forward in the process, granting Daddy a private show right there on the couch with him. Daddy's gaze was distracted by my tits half sticking out of my top, and it was kinda cute how he tried to shift his eyes away from my irresistible hard, swollen nipples. He was just like all the other men, failing miserably.

"This is inappropriate," he murmured.

"There's that word again," I said and gave him a mischievous smile, rubbing my pants onto his thin pajama pants, regretting I wasn't wearing my mini-skirt anymore.

"Come on, get off," he commanded, but his body and arms were wrapped up under the blanket, and with my weight on top of him, there wasn't much he could do.

"Beg me or else I'll suffocate you."