Why Do You Hate Me, Daddy?

"Ok," I answered back. I didn't know what else to add. I felt the same embarrassing flush creeping up my cheeks as I sat there, though.

There was a long pause between us. I could hear him breathing a little quicker than usual. He seemed nervous, too. But then he whispered one word, "Maybe..."

I waited for him to say more but he didn't. Slowly I turned my head toward him. My eyes kept trying to drop down to look at his chest, but I wrestled them to keep them level with his face. He didn't have his usual beard today. Well, maybe just the hint of a shadow, but I assumed he had shaved that morning. Swallowing, I finally asked, "Maybe what?"

He looked away and then I noticed that his cheeks were turning red a little. What was he embarrassed about? My eyes finally won and I let them drop down, taking in the smooth skin of his chest. There was a slight hint of a tan line around his neck, but it was faint. I couldn't help but start to explore the rest of his exposed skin. His pectorals were not huge, but they each had a nice, defining edge along their bottom. I also noticed that his nipples were sticking out slightly, and the areolas were puckered with little bumps from the cool air of the room. I found myself fantasizing about running my tongue over them.

He spoke then, interrupting my depraved line of thinking. He said, "Maybe... I mean, do you want to just... lie together?" I blinked. What? He turned his face toward mine and then whispered, "I mean... like how you used to when you were little. Just like a cuddle. Like... like father and daughter. Nothing weird."

My heart was threatening to explode in my chest, it was pounding so hard. Was my father seriously asking me to sleep with him? And was I seriously considering it? No. I wasn't. I didn't need to consider it at all. I realized that I desperately wanted to do just that. To lie in bed with him and cuddle.

"Ok," I heard myself whisper.

He didn't smile but his head nodded just slightly. After a minute, I felt him pulling at the bedspread until it went taut from the weight of me sitting on top of it. He was holding it diagonally away from me, staring at me. Pushing myself up and pulling my legs in, I grabbed the other side of the blanket and shimmied underneath. Once I was there, I stretched myself out until I was lying on my back.

Staring up at the ceiling and holding the bedspread up to my chin with two hands, I refused to move. I thought about the resolution I had made to myself and decided it still applied. I was not going to make any kind of move toward my father. Despite my desire. As I lay there, I could hear him breathing right next to me. He didn't move, either.

For five minutes, neither of us spoke. We just lay in complete silence. Except it wasn't quiet in my head. Thoughts were spiraling around. I was lying in bed with my father who I had had a crush on for ages. Even though I knew nothing was going to happen between us, I couldn't help the images my mind kept conjuring up. I suddenly wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. I started shaking.

"Are you cold?" he asked suddenly.

Shaking my head and still staring straight up, I whispered, "No."

He was quiet again after that, although I could hear him breathing softly. The bed rustled and then I heard my dad moving. I couldn't see him since I was still staring at the ceiling, but my heart started thrumming when I realized he was rolling closer to me. And when he touched my arm, I flinched. I turned my head, glancing at him. He had moved down on the bed and was lying on his side, looking at me. Our eyes connected and we just stared at each other for a few seconds until he finally whispered, "Would this be easier if you were facing away from me?"

Frowning at him, I didn't know what to say. Why would it be easier like that? I blinked. His eyes flitted away from mine and for a second, I thought he was going to bite his lip. My dad. Biting his lip. I almost giggled at the thought, but I was too nervous to feel giddy. And I was still shaking. But then he said quietly, "We could spoon, I mean."

Oh. He wanted to spoon me? I couldn't help but glance at the little bit of his chest that was still exposed above the bedspread. An involuntary shiver went through me and I forced myself to nod as I whispered, "Ok." Then I rolled to the side so my back was to him.

My father slid closer to me and then I felt his warm body press up against mine from behind. He slid his arm up onto my side and placed his hand chastely on my thigh. Then we lay there in silence. Minutes went by with neither of us moving or talking. The heat from his body made me warm, but I was still shaking slightly. I couldn't help it. Slowly, I started to relax. I felt a strange sort of comfort cover me like a blanket. My dad hadn't laid with me like this in a long time. It felt so good, I might have drifted off to sleep if my mind weren't a maelstrom of emotions and thoughts.

"Mmmm," I made a soft sound accidentally.

My dad's body stiffened behind me but he didn't say anything. He was so warm. I could feel heat from his chest permeating my back, taking away a chill that I hadn't realized had been there. For years, it seemed. Wriggling my body a little, I pressed my hips backward. That's when I realized how much warmer that part of him was. Like he was radiating heat from his crotch. It made my skin tingle where our bodies connected. I inhaled deeply and held my body still, enjoying the warmth.

I felt my father's hand start to move on my hip, his fingers tickling my thigh through my pajamas. It felt extremely good. He was moving his fingers so subtly, he could have been doing it in his sleep. I said nothing. Minutes went by and his caressing never stopped. My body was tingling from his touch. I desperately wanted to move, but I didn't dare. I wanted to squirm and press my butt against his crotch, to rub against him. I wanted to take hold of his hand and move it--

I gasped when my dad slid his hand over the top of my hip and onto my pelvis, then slowly dipped it under the bottom of my shirt, his fingers suddenly making contact with the skin of my stomach. He stiffened when he heard me gasp, and his caressing stopped. But he held his hand where it was. I could feel each fingertip pressing against my skin, creating tiny ripples of electricity that seemed to swirl into the middle of my belly. I was breathing erratically, but I tried to be quiet about it. My heart hammered relentlessly but I didn't think he could hear it.

Silence filled the room. My body threatened to start shaking again so I deliberately tensed every muscle I could, trying to hold still. It was oddly sensual to me. We must have laid like that without moving for ten minutes. My heartbeat was still pounding in my chest, though. I couldn't calm down. Thoughts churned in my brain. This experience felt more amazing than anything I could remember from my entire life. And yet, I still didn't know what it meant. Or if it meant anything at all. It was just a father and his daughter lying platonically in bed. Right? But oh how I had missed his affection! I felt like I was melting inside. In a good way. But I didn't dare let myself hope too strongly. This could all disappear in the blink of an eye.

My father's hand was moving again. I steeled myself so I wouldn't gasp. Any noise I made seemed to make him stop, which didn't make any sense to me. I was afraid to let him know just how much I was enjoying this, though. His fingers started caressing my stomach, drawing tiny circles on my skin. I knew my body wanted to shiver, but I forced it to stillness. I had to remain calm, despite the chaos in my head.

Slowly, his caressing fingertips moved upward. One of his fingers dipped into my naval and I had to bite my lip hard to keep from moaning. That was a sensitive spot on my body. It was a weird sensitivity, though. It could go from being an erogenous stimulation point to a sensation of extreme discomfort. Luckily he didn't linger there and his hand soon slid higher. When he reached the indentation at the bottom of my ribcage, just above my stomach, he stopped.

I realized I could hear my breathing. It sounded erratic. And my heart was beating even faster, more intensely. I couldn't help it and there was no way to hide it anymore. His hand was close enough that he could probably feel my heart beating in my chest. That only seemed to make it beat stronger.

Daddy's fingertips tapped on my skin, like they were doing a little dance. He moved them slowly, without changing the position of his hand. He caressed the indented cavity on my chest and I felt pulses of pleasure emanating outward, both up and down. My nipples were tingling even though he wasn't touching them. An eternity passed and he continued to rub my skin. He didn't know it, but he was bringing my body to a slow, smoldering burn of arousal. I didn't dare say a word. It felt too good and I didn't want to break the spell.

Slowly, his fingers drifted upward. I could feel my shirt pulling away from my chest as it clung to his arm, now snaked three quarters of the way up my body. His hand moved into the gentle canyon of pale skin between my breasts. My breath caught, but I forced myself to exhale and keep breathing. I couldn't help what my heart was doing though, palpitating as it was. My lips parted as I felt his fingers gently slide to the left, following the contour of my breast.

"Is this ok?" my father's whisper almost made me cry out in shock. It was the first sound I had heard in forever. I gasped and my entire body convulsed suddenly. A swell of pleasure erupted in my crotch and I couldn't help but squeeze my thighs together, grinding my legs and forcing my vaginal lips to slip against each other. My god I was aroused!

"Yes," I whispered. Please don't stop, daddy.

I felt his fingers gliding up the swell of my breast, drawing ever closer to my nipple which was already tingling. My breathing was quick and shallow, my heart continuing to thud a mile a minute. He moved his hand a little higher and I felt his fingertips graze across my hilly areola. My lips parted further and I braced myself for the moan that I knew was about to erupt from my mouth.

One finger slipped across my nipple and pleasure literally exploded in my chest. I gasped, my body bucking backward. Tingles erupted between my legs at the same time. Good heavens! The pleasure was so intense, I couldn't help but moan. Loudly. And then something I had never experienced before happened between my legs.

My vagina started to tingle. Like I was about to climax without any direct stimulation.

Dad's finger flitted across my nipple again and I opened my mouth to moan once more. But at that very moment, I heard a creak outside my dad's bedroom. We both seemed to freeze at the same time. His hand suddenly cupped my entire breast, squeezing it instinctively and then holding completely still. I swallowed back a moan, listening intently. Staring toward the door, I watched as the doorknob started to turn slowly. Fuck!

My father yanked his hand out from under my shirt in a flash, slapping his hand back against my thigh where it had all started. I watched as the door silently swung inward. Someone was standing there, silhouetted in the doorway.

"Daddy?" Ally's whispering voice pierced the dim room. She took a few steps toward the bed and then she noticed me lying there, staring at her. "Gracie?" she asked in a normal voice, sounding extremely confused. "What are you doing here?"

Scrambling for an excuse, I muttered, "I had a bad dream." The lie felt bitter on my tongue.

"Oh," Ally said. Then she reached the bed and climbed onto it. For a minute she just looked back and forth between me and our father. Then she shrugged to herself and said, "I want to sleep here, too."

My dad made a noise behind me and then his hand slid off my hip as he reached for the blanket. When he pulled it back, my little sister climbed under the covers and immediately nestled up to me. She was lying on her side in front of me, facing the door. The three of us formed a sort of triple-spoon.

Of course, my dad didn't put his hand back up my shirt. And as I lay in the dark room trying to fall asleep, my mind kept racing. My father had caressed my boob. And he had nearly given me an orgasm from it! And as I lay there, sandwiched between him and my little sister, I could feel warmth emanating from his crotch which was still pressed firmly against my butt.

My father was hard.

[Ch 17. Repudiation.]

It felt even more awkward in the house after Ally "caught" me and dad in bed together. I kept wondering if she told Monica about it. What would they think if they found out? Of course, there wasn't much to "find out" about anyway. So we had touched each other. It didn't mean much, really. I still wasn't even sure what my dad thought about the whole thing. I realized I was actually extremely nervous about that. Wondering what he thought. Was he grossed out about it?

A week after my little sister barged in on us (right when we were getting to the good part, too!), I felt desperate to see my dad again. Intimately, I mean. Of course, I had seen him. We lived in the same house. But I constantly felt like I was on my tip toes. Mustering up the courage, I finally got out of bed and made my way upstairs. My sisters were both in their rooms, presumably asleep. It was after midnight.

When I reached my dad's door, I opened it without knocking. He was sitting up in his bed, staring at his phone. When he looked my way, he didn't say anything, so I closed the door behind me and padded over to his bed. I was slightly disappointed to see that he had a shirt on tonight, but I shook the thought away. We stared at each other but neither of us spoke. When I climbed into bed beside him, I heard his phone make a digital click as he turned it off. I snuggled my way beneath the covers, lying on my back, but made no move toward him.

Neither of us spoke for a while. Maybe ten minutes passed in silence. I was so nervous about being there, my stomach felt knotted. But I forced myself through it. Turning toward him, I asked softly, "Will you touch me again?" I held my breath the second the question was out of my mouth. I knew I didn't need to clarify what I meant. The fact that he didn't answer right away told me he knew exactly what I was asking.

He stared at me and his expression was completely unreadable. My nervousness grew stronger to the point where I thought I might be sick. I suddenly wanted to flee. The past ten years of apprehension toward my father seemed to come back all at once. He clearly disapproved of what I was asking him. But more than anything, his lack of reaction made me feel completely unwanted.

"We shouldn't be doing this, Gracie," he finally said.

"Ok," I answered immediately, turning away from him to hide the tears that were already welling up in my eyes. I knew I should leave, but I was afraid I would look like an idiot if I scrambled out of his bed. I felt completely dejected. I had professed an interest in my father and he had thrown it in my face. Why did I even do that? I should have known.

The bed rustled and I stopped breathing, trying not to move. My father jostled the bed as I heard him sliding under the covers. My ears rang as my heartbeat sped up. I started breathing again, but barely. The covers made another noise and then I felt his warm body press up against me from behind. Closing my eyes, I relished the feeling for a few seconds. I knew it was a fleeting moment, but I clung to it.

When my dad put his hand on my hip again, I started shaking uncontrollably. I couldn't make it stop no matter how hard I tried. He nestled closer and his arm slid across my stomach as he pulled me to him in a spooning hug. Lord it felt good to lie next to him. I wish I didn't enjoy it so much. Plus things would be easier and he didn't feel the need to resist me. Dangerous, but easier.

We lay in silence for an eternity. Neither of us moved or spoke. I could feel his warm breath on the top of my head as he held me. My stomach tingled where his arm lay across it. Slowly, my shaking died down and then I started feeling very warm. And oddly content. I realized in that moment that I didn't need him to touch me. If he just held me like this, I could be happy. It was all I wanted. All I needed.

I started to nod off. My heartbeat slowed and my breathing became regular. Smiling to myself, I decided I could get used to this. Just this. He didn't hate me. He was holding me, almost tenderly. It was the most comfortable I had felt in a long time.

Daddy's arm moved so slow, I didn't even notice until I felt his hand brushed across my bare belly. It tickled, but in a good way. Pleasure blossomed all over my abdomen. I didn't dare move. Maybe he thought I was asleep. His fingers pulled together slowly until they all met in a point on my stomach. Then he splayed them out again, pushing his palm against my bare skin. It tingled. He did it again and I fought the urge to tremble. It wasn't easy. The pleasure was growing stronger, swirling out in all directions.

For ten minutes, he continued to move his fingers like that, opening and closing them all over my belly. He tickled my naval and even traced his fingertips along the hem of my sweatpants. That did make me shiver, but he didn't stop when I did. He felt extremely warm, pressed up against me. And I realized with shock that I could feel a special kind of heat emanating from his crotch. Curious, I nudged my butt back gently. That's when I felt it. My father had an erection again. The knowledge of that sent a flutter between my legs. My clitoris felt like it was on fire suddenly.

My dad's hand slowly edged its way up my body, under my shirt. He moved so slow, I swear it took an hour to reach the upper portion of my stomach. But I didn't utter a word of protest. I wanted this. I wanted this so bad it made me tremble. When he slid his hand another few inches up, his fingers grazed the base of my right breast. My body convulsed gently. I couldn't hold it in. It was almost a flinch, but not quite. Sucking in a sharp breath, I waited. My heart slammed the inside of my chest and warmth radiated throughout my entire body. Squeezing my thighs together, I felt the undeniable intensity of my arousal.

His hand slid up a little more and then I felt his fingers spread out around the underside of my breast. He pinched his fingers together again and I felt them grab hold of my flesh. Then he proceeded to gently knead my boob, which created jolts of pleasure that made me squeeze my thighs together even harder. If he would just run one finger across my nipple, I thought I might be able to have the orgasm that I desperately wanted.

Opening my mouth, I whispered the question that popped into my head, "You don't mind that my tits are so small?"

"Breasts," he corrected me again. "And I told you, guys don't care about size like you think."

Biting my lip, I nodded. He had stopped massaging my boob, but his hand was still holding onto it. It felt wonderful. For a few minutes, he held me, just like that. With his hand on my breast, there was no hope for my arousal to disappear. My vagina heated up beyond compare. I squirmed subtly, trying not to draw attention to my crotch. I didn't want him to know how much this was turning me on. But lord did I ever need to touch myself!

Suddenly, my dad's hand let go of my breast and, before I could process what was happening, he pulled his hand out from under my shirt. Even though I was snug under the covers, I felt like an icy draft was blowing directly on my chest compared to the heat of his touch. I shivered in his arms. Then I craned my neck, trying to look at him over my shoulder. Frowning, I felt completely rebuffed.

"I really shouldn't let this happen," he said quietly when he saw me looking at him.