tagIncest/TabooGabe and Nat

Gabe and Nat


Nathalie--called Nat by her friends--was normally a cheerful, happy-go-lucky kind of girl. One night, however, she just sat on her bed, unable to sleep. Shaking, she couldn't stop thinking about anything or anyone else but her father, Gabriel--or Gabe, as he was usually called.

She wore nothing other than a pink bra and panties--ones with a pretty, elaborate lace design; actually, it was her habit to lounge around the house in various forms of undress, often completely naked. And here was the problem: nude in her bedroom earlier that day, she'd noticed her dad out in the hall, watching her from behind--indeed, ogling her behind--when she'd left her bedroom door several inches ajar. When she quickly turned around, he guiltily ran off.

More shocking than that, on two occasions the week before, she'd worn nothing but a bra and thong--the first time, dark red; the second, black. Both times, she'd briefly sat on his lap on the sofa in the living room as he was watching TV; and both times, he had a pointy erection! Embarrassed, he quickly asked her to get off his lap and put some clothes on; but it was too late--she knew how he felt about her.

On some level, she could understand his desires: she was a pretty 22-year-old brunette with piercing black eyes and a petite, tanned, deliciously curvy body. All the boys in her classes at Hamilton Ontario's McMaster University wanted to get their hands on her. Indeed, when she'd sat on Gabe's lap those two times, her soft, smooth buttocks must have commanded his cock to stand at attention.

Still, he was her father, and in him she saw a melancholy, but sweet, ever so gentle man. She'd never seen him show any kind of passion before, including when her bitchy mother was still alive. He seemed the last man to show any kind of lechery. It was amazing that he'd ever gotten Nat's mother pregnant with her. Because of his seeming celibacy, she often went around the house undressed in front of him: she loved and trusted him completely. Yet here she was now, confronted with his having incestuous feelings for her; she could never have imagined it!

More unsettling for her than even those worries was the fact that a part of her, maybe all of her, actually liked how he wanted her! She'd dated lots of men over the years, sleeping with at least half of them and experimenting with many different ways to give and get pleasure. Indeed, she was very open-minded about sex, having tried all kinds of different positions, taking pride in her skill at fellatio, receptive to anal sex; she'd even given men a golden shower or two. She slept with a woman once, and enjoyed receiving, though not giving, cunnilingus. And though the sex with the men was usually fun, all of them ultimately disappointed her: she'd never even had a steady boyfriend once in her life. She'd never fallen in love.

Gabe's wife died almost two years to the day before this sleepless night of Nat's. Though her mom was generally a domineering, nasty woman to her and Gabe, he was so devastated with her dying (her bitchiness consisted in making him emotionally dependent on her) that he withdrew completely from any form of social contact, never seeking a new woman.

So Nat needed a man, and Gabe needed a woman. Her half-naked body was driving him wild, and his sweetness, his kindness, and his blond-haired, blue-eyed, mature good looks--at the age of 49--made him seem the perfect mate for her...except that he was her dad.

But did that really matter?

The next morning, a drowsy Nat drove to McMaster U with a large Starbucks coffee. With barely any energy to move, she managed to get to her 8:30 AM philosophy class on time, practically dropping her ass on her chair. She kept sipping her coffee, thinking about her...problem...with her dad as everyone waited for the professor to enter the room.

He arrived about five minutes later and began his lecture. He was discussing religion and sexuality, and the philosophy of sex. When he started advocating essentially any kind of consensual sex between human adults, even incest, practically everyone in class was politely trying to hide winces of disgust. Nat, however, found her sleepiness instantly vanishing; her head bounced up, and her eyes almost popped out of her head.

He even went so far as to say that, sometimes, sexual perversity leads to great spiritual insights. He quoted a passage from Nietzsche's 'Birth of Tragedy'. "Wisdom," he quoted, "and particularly Dionysian wisdom, is an unnatural abomination."

The other students continued the difficult task of trying to hide their distaste at the prof's defence of consensual incest, but Nat was fascinated.

"Oedipus solved the riddle of the Sphinx, a monster, part woman, part lion with wings," he went on. "An unnatural abomination herself. Her riddle is actually ridiculously easy to solve--man is the animal that crawls on four legs in the morning of his life, his infancy; he walks on two legs during his noontime maturity; and he hobbles with a third leg, a cane, during the evening of his old age. But the notion of the riddle's being hard to solve isn't meant to be taken literally; for in the ancient world of the myth's creation, people expressed themselves in metaphor and allegory. The riddle, easy as it may be to solve actually, symbolizes the notion of deep, unsolvable mysteries; and Oedipus knows those mysteries. He also kills his father, marries his mother and gets her pregnant, having three children/siblings by her. Extreme mystical insight dissolves into its opposite, extreme abomination. Now I say to you, it can go the other way around, too."

Nat, one who regularly meditated, had always wanted to be spiritual, but she hated religious restrictions on sexuality. When having sex with her many men over the years, she'd tried turning the love-making into a kind of meditation, a yogic form of sex. The men were never willing to do that with her, though, hence her being disappointed with them. Now Nat wondered: was this prof showing her something she'd always wanted to find, a way to be sexual and spiritual at the same time, a kind of 'sacred sinning'? She went home that evening and thought about it.

In white lace underwear that night and sitting on her bed in the lotus posture, she meditated on how Eastern mysticism often dealt with the reconciling of opposites: yin and yang, self and other, body and spirit, et cetera. Could she attain nirvana through perversion, and in the process, help her moping father out of his sorrow and loneliness by having her as a lover?

She was convinced that she could. With that, her normal joie de vivre was restored, and having finished a half-hour meditation, she left her room and went downstairs after hearing her snoring dad in his bedroom.

She went into the living room on the way to the kitchen for a glass of water. As she passed by their desktop computer, she accidentally tapped the mouse with her swaying hand. The monitor lit up: he'd forgotten to turn the computer off before going to bed.

She noticed a large number of opened windows, all JPEG photos, along the bottom of the screen. She clicked on one of them--it was a pornographic picture of a young woman in pigtails, naked, and bent over with her ass pointed at the camera, her asshole and pussy gloriously displayed.

Hey, Nat thought, Dad's into porn. Not the saint he seems to be. Now I can find out what he's into sexually, and use it to help me seduce him.

She got a notepad and a pencil from her bedroom, and began taking notes as she went through all the other pictures.

She quickly noticed a group of consistently recurring sexual interests. After watching POV videos of women doing oral on men and receiving facials, she said, "Oh, Dad, wait till you find out what your daughter can do with her mouth." Then she watched a POV video of a woman receiving anal. "I can do that," she whispered. "If he wants to put it in my stink-hole, no problem." There were also pictures and video of public nudity and of girls caught on the toilet. "Oh, come on, show me something difficult." After seeing lots of pictures of women showing off their assholes as often as--if not more often than--their pussies, she said, "Wow, he's really into anal: better buy lots of lube." Another thing she noticed: almost all the women in the pictures and video had their hair in pigtails, and posed or behaved in the attitude of little girls.

As Nat saw more and more of these 'little girl' women, she began to get worried. Please, Dad, she thought, Don't be a sicko pedophile. She was relieved to learn, however, that all the models in the pics and video were at least 18 years old. "Whew," she sighed.

She left the computer, carefully replacing the pics as Gabe had left them so as not to make him suspect she'd seen them. Then she took her notepad up with her, back into her bedroom, reviewed her notes, and began planning her seduction of her father. About ten minutes later, she went to bed.

The next morning, she woke up and meditated on her bed, remembering that Yogic sex is best when one has attained a high level of spirituality. After meditating for a half hour, she took off her underwear, left her bedroom door ajar, turned the light on, and stood naked by her dresser with her back to the door.

As she waited for him to come out of his bedroom (she could hear him moving around in there), she put her hair in pigtails. Gabe, fully dressed for work, came out into the hall, walked by her door, and stopped to look at her.

Seeing him in her dresser mirror's reflection, but pretending not to know he was watching, she spread her legs as wide as she could get them, and bent over so her asshole and pussy were showing. She stayed in that position, never letting on that she knew he was watching, for a minute or so, so he could get a good look.

His eyes were bugging out of his head in amazement at what he saw: delectable pink labia liquorice under her puckered, caramel anus lips. My sperm produced this? he thought.

Figuring he'd had long enough of a look, she straightened up and quickly turned around. She stopped him from his sheepish looking away and leaving, saying in a girlie voice, "Oh, hi Daddy," as if she had no clue he'd been watching her.

He turned back around, shyly avoiding looking at her body, and with an embarrassed frown, said, "G-good morning, Nathalie."

Not bothering to put any clothes on, she skipped to the door without any inhibitions, and said, "I'll make us some breakfast, Daddy." She hugged him, pretending not to notice his erection, then went down the stairs cheerfully, like a little girl.

"Daddy?" he said in surprise. She hasn't called me 'Daddy' since she was eight, he thought, then followed her into the kitchen.

He sat at the kitchen table, trying to resist the temptation of looking at her body, while she prepared scrambled eggs and toast for them. At one point, she deliberately dropped an egg on the floor, then spread her legs and bent over to clean it up. Her exposed asshole and pussy were inches from his face.

"Jesus!" Gabe said after seeing her display for a second and turning away in embarrassment.

"Don't worry, Daddy," she said, still in the voice of a little girl, pretending she innocently had no idea how she was turning him on. "I'll clean it up."

Assured she wouldn't look back at him, he guiltily turned back and enjoyed looking hat her glorious holes. Oh, what sweet candy! But it wasn't his to have.

Or was it?


Nat didn't want to rush into her seduction, or give Gabe too many concentrated doses of her sexiness, for fear that he, in his sexual uptightness, would angrily resist and demand she always dress decently. Instead, she'd go totally nude on some days, in her bra and panties on others, or in a T-shirt and panties.

This last way was how she was dressed one day when she went to the toilet to pee, leaving the bathroom door wide open. Seeing the toilet paper all used up and knowing that the other rolls were up in a cupboard above the medicine cabinet, she held in her pee for the moment as she sat on the toilet, with her pink panties pulled down to her ankles. "Daddy?" she called out to him. "Can you come over here, please?"

"Sure, sweetie," he said, hurrying over from the kitchen. When he got to the doorway, he blushed to see her, with her legs wide open and the pee beginning to pour out. She, however, was always smiling, not bothering to cover her wispy brown pubic hair with her hands. "W-what do you need?"

"I'm out of toilet paper," she said, grinning up at him as the golden piss continued spraying out in a line from her clearly visible urethra into the toilet bowl water. "Can you get me some from the cupboard?"

"OK," he said nervously after taking furtive peeks at her peeing. She just looked up at him with the trusting innocence of a child. He clumsily got his hands on a new roll of toilet paper and, almost dropping on the floor between her legs from fumbling it, gave it to her. "H-here you are."

"Thanks," she said with an ear-to-ear grin. She squirted out her last little bits of piss, giggling and squealing with each squirt, then said, "OK, I'm finished taking my pee-pee." She giggled again, then pulled off some toilet paper and wiped herself.

Pee-pee? he thought. Why is she always talking like a child? Suddenly he remembered that he'd been staring at her; he quickly looked away in embarrassment.

She got up and, after giving him a chance to indulge his fetish of seeing her pee in the toilet bowl, flushed the toilet. "Now I'm all stinky," she said in her still childlike voice; instead of pulling up her panties, she pulled her feet out of the leg holes and pulled off her tight-fitting, light green T-shirt with a carefree wiggle of her tits. Without a bra, she was now naked. "Time to get in the shower and clean my pussy."

"Please, Nathalie," he said, still taking sneak peeks at her small but firm, perky breasts and well-trimmed tuft of pubic hair. "Don't talk about your body so lewdly."

Ignoring his words as she stepped into the shower stall, she spread her buttocks so he could see her bronze anus; then she said, "I'm gonna clean my asshole, too." She closed the shower door and turned on the water.

He left the bathroom, twitching with a mixture of temptation, shame, and desire. Why is she acting like that? he wondered. His hand covered the bulging erection in his pants as he walked away.


A week later, she was at it again.

Prancing around the house completely nude one evening, she was sucking on a (deliberately chosen) peach-coloured popsicle and showing off her newly epilated pubic area. Her hair was in pigtails as usual, and like a child she skipped into the living room while Gabe was trying to watch the news. In her other hand, she held a small tube of honey.

When she got in front of him, she deliberately dropped the tube between his open legs. "Oops," she said in a high-pitched, girlie voice, then giggled. She got down on her knees before him to pick up the tube, all the while still sucking on the popsicle, sliding her wet lips along it as it went in and out of her mouth.

She looked up at him as her lips slid up and down the skin-coloured popsicle, which she held level with his crotch, pointing up. Instead of moving the popsicle back and forth, she held it still now, and moved her head up and down, as if she were blowing him. She dawdled at picking up the tube of honey, of course.

Even more embarrassed than usual, but equally aroused, Gabe hoped Nat wouldn't see the bulge in his pants. "Honey, what are you doing?" he said in feigned anger to hide his nervousness. "What i-is this nonsense you're up to? I'm t-trying to watch the news."

As he was saying this, she unscrewed the cap from the tube, which she hid under the popsicle, now taken out of her mouth. "Sorry, Daddy," she said with wide eyes that always looked up at him. She licked the tip of the popsicle a few times, then 'accidentally' squeezed the hidden uncapped tube, the hole of which, like the popsicle, was pointed at her face. Honey spewed on her nose, left eye, and lips. She giggled in a high pitch and licked the dripping honey off her mouth, stretching her tongue sensually as far as it would reach, to lick off as much honey as possible.

Shaking, Gabe got up and hurried over to the bathroom, locking the door. Nat went over to eavesdrop. His grunting, moaning, and twitching noises confirmed what she suspected: he was masturbating.


A few days later, Nat was meditating nude on her bed, contemplating the oneness and wholeness of the universe, trying to imagine every pair of opposites united, as a way of taking in the divine All. She imagined Truth as everything from the most exalted to the most vulgar, thinking of Love as the acceptance of everything, even the most despised of things, like incest. Contemplations of this sort, done for a half hour every day, helped her overcome the feelings of shame that inevitably came with trying to seduce her father.

When she was finished, she went downstairs, still naked, and walked into the living room where Gabe was watching TV. "Hi Daddy," she said, then sat on his lap, which quickly got pointy.

"Oh, sweetie, n-not again," he said tensely, fidgeting with nervousness. "You're too old to be sitting on my l-lap."

Gently sliding her soft, smooth buttocks against his erection, moving slowly in clockwise circles, she looked back at him with her wide-eyed ingenue face and asked, "Don't you like it?"

"Y-no! I mean," he stammered, breathing heavily. "Please, Nathalie: don't s-sit on me."

"Why can't I sit on your lap if I want to?" she asked with a sexy pout, affecting a spoiled child. "I wanna cuddle."

"W-well, m-maybe if you h-had some clothes on," he groaned, guiltily enjoying her continual grinding.

"What does that matter, Daddy? You've seen all my skin before; you used to bathe me when I was a little girl." She got up, turned around, and sat on his lap again, but facing him. "You know every inch of me."

He averted his eyes, saying, "Yeah, but y-you've grown...in more w-ways than in height."

"Why are you looking away, Daddy? Am I ugly or something?"

"Of course not: the e-exact opposite."

"Well, you can look at me if you want. I trust you."

"But I-I don't think I t-trust myself."

"You'd never hurt me: you're so sweet," she said, then leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. Though turned on, he twitched in fear. "Why are you so scared?"

"W-why are you doing this?"

"To show you how much I love you," she said, then wrapped her arms tightly around his torso. She continued grinding on his cock; her pussy was dripping wet.

No longer able to control himself, he pressed his lips aggressively against hers, then unzipped his pants and whipped it out. Sighing and moaning in expectation, she sat back and widened her legs for him. He poked the tip of his cock against her vaginal opening while running his hands agains her smooth, tawny skin; then he looked up in her eyes as he slid it in an inch, and remembered who she was.

He pushed her off him and shrank back in terror, straining to put his erection back in his pants. Her ass hit the floor with a thud, and she looked up at her now sobbing father.

"Daddy!" she whined, still doing her spoiled little girl routine. "Why'd you stop?" She pouted.

"Oh, baby! I'm so sorry!" he bawled. "I'm so ashamed of myself. I don't know what's wrong with me. What have I done? I tried to rape my daughter."

"Oh, Daddy," she said soothingly, getting up. "No, you didn't. I made you want to." She sat on his lap and stroked his hair, admiring the silver streaks of grey that were mixed in with the blond.

"You made me? That's every rapist's excuse."

"This wasn't rape. I wanted it."

"But...why would you want it with me?" Still crying, he looked wide-eyed at her, his face soaked with tears.

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