tagIncest/TabooThe Scent of Jasmine

The Scent of Jasmine


A whole month. That was how long he had been away. Not that it had been a bad trip, Dubai was pleasant in early autumn, the food was good, the hotel decadent as only oil money can do. Even his daily gym visits were accompanied by a personal trainer.

Oh yeah, and business had been very good to him.

His wife was away herself, meaning that the house would probably be empty. Not a problem. He could catch up with his family later. After a long flight, it might be good to have the house to himself. A quick shower, a beer, maybe a dip in the pool.

The taxi made its way through familiar streets, and as it turned the final bend he could see his house between the trees. There it was, the corner window. His bedroom. It reminded him how long it had been since he had been laid.

There was the opportunity in Dubai, of course. Rumours had it that the chambermaids were more than happy to offer sex on the side. Mostly Filipino girls: cute, but lacking the sass he liked in a woman.

He tipped the driver and took his bag from the back seat. He opened the front door, noticing the alarm system was not on. He called out to his wife, then Jasmine, his daughter. No answer. Just forgetful, he supposed.

He dumped his suitcase on the bed, he could worry about it later. A shower first.

It felt good to get the hours washed off his body. As he relaxed, he noticed himself getting hard. He started to stroke himself, recalling some of the girls he had seen on holiday. But his wife would be back in a few days, best save it all for her. God, he'd explode, he laughed to himself.

House to himself, he headed downstairs in his towel. His swimming trunks would be in the laundry room where they had been kept all summer. In the kitchen he took a beer, gulped half of it quickly. He looked out the window, a good late summer sky. Still warm enough for a dip. He found his trunks, put them on. As he approached the door, a glance through the window revealed he wasn't alone after all.

In the pool was Jasmine, lying on a float. His heart warmed. She was home after all. He started to think of ways of surprising her, perhaps dive bombing next to her. Or creeping in and splashing her. As he looked closer, he noticed she was naked.

He smiled, this would be so embarrassing for her! Maybe he should announce himself to spare her. Or maybe he could...

He was stalling. Maybe it was the pent up energy, or the jet lag, but he found his eyes flowing over her body, flawless in the bright sun. She had the half-Indian colouring from her mother. Her legs were long, flowing into curvaceous hips. Her waist and narrow back, and now, as the float slowly turned, the rest of her came into view. God, how was it possible for her to have grown into such a woman? Without thinking his hand strayed to his crotch, trying to adjust himself. A protest came from some higher part of his mind... this is your daughter, Tim, for chrissakes! Maybe it was the jet lag ... or the pent up energy ... feeding a more primitive part of his mind. Just allow yourself a moment, Tim. Just one look. He imagined his hands moving over that smooth skin, feeling the hips give way to her waist... the smooth rise of her breasts... kissing her stomach... wondering what her pussy would taste like...

Wow. Yeah, better stop there. Go back upstairs and work one off.

The float continued to turn in the breeze, and with it Jasmine came to face the house. He continued to stare, almost feeling her warmth on him. As she opened her eyes, he suddenly froze, realising what he had been doing. A moment later she saw him.

She let out a little yelp as she tried to cover itself. As she did, she lost her balance and Tim heard a muffled splash as she capsized into the pool. She came up laughing as he walked into the back garden.

"Dad! What are you doing back?" she said hiding on the far side of the float.

"Where else am I going to go, hun? Turned my study into a disco already?"

She laughed again and pointed to her black bikini on the side of the pool. He smiled and threw it to her, just short of the float.

"Turn around dad!" She said.

He walked down the pool steps. "Bit late for that, hun."

He sat on a step, sipping his beer. As he did, Jasmine lay on the edge of the float and kicked her way to her bikini. Half suspended by the float, her buttocks rose above the water level. Beautiful smooth brown orbs pulsating with each kick as she moved, glistening with the water. Yeah, just allow yourself another moment, Tim.

She turned her back to put her bikini back on. "Mum's back early as well. This evening. Sounded stressed."

"She say why?"

"No. Not really. She's been out late a lot recently."

"Must be a work thing."

They sat resting in the pool, soaking in the last of the days heat. Sometimes they spoke, sometimes just lay there relaxing. And it was in these quiet moments that Tim fought to keep his mind as empty as possible


Dressed and alone in his study, he checked his emails. Too many. Too boring. He switched to his Chrome browser and put it into Incognito mode. He knew this was wrong, but maybe he just needed to relieve some tension. A few clicks later and he found just the right one. A young, slim Indian girl... not as busty as Jasmine, but beautiful nonetheless. He watched her play with her pussy... he skipped to the part where she began to take some guys cock into her mouth. God, she was going for it. He tried to concentrate on the girl, pushing anyone else out his mind. Yeah, its OK Tim, you're just horny. Jasmine's figure just hit some evolutionary buttons in your brain. Nothing to feel guilty about. It's why girls look like that!

The Indian girl was on all fours now... moaning through his headphones...

As his cock hardened, his mind began to lose its focus. As much as he tried he couldn't keep Jasmine out of his thoughts. He began to imagine her in his study... on all fours on the floor...

The girl in the video now had the guy's cock gently placed against her arse... He saw himself behind Jasmine. Hands on her slender waist ... slowly allowing himself to ...

The doorbell broke his reverie. He shut down the browser, and headed downstairs, trying to shake the thoughts from his head. He felt flushed, guilty.

He put on a brave face as Jasmine opened the door. Now in a summer dress that played gently over her ... fuck's sake! Stop it, Tim!

His wife entered. Beautiful, but tired. Maybe more than tired.

She forced a smile at his greeting, and he offered her a drink.

In the kitchen, she fended off his and Jasmine's questions with half answers. Tim couldn't gauge what was wrong with her. This was more than just work stress.

"Jasmine, darling. Can your dad and I have a moment alone".

"Aren't we going out to dinner?" she asked.

"Hun, just a moment please."

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "Don't be long. I'm starving." And headed through the door.

Tim poured them both some more wine. "So what is it, hun?"

She drank heavily from her glass. "Tim. We need to talk."


Tony Brennan considered himself a shrewd operator. As did many others. For nine of the last ten years his department had come top in terms of profitability, and he continuously had the lowest staff turnover rate in the company. He rarely had to deal with his IT department, since he only hired the best, but this time he wanted to gently sneak behind HR's back. He looked at the report. Just what he suspected. 96 hours a week average, not including the six days out of the last four weekends. Going back over the last six months, it was a similar pattern.

"Thanks Martin, that'll be all."

Martin gave a curt smile and headed back to IT on the fourth floor.

Tony put the report in his draw and gathered his thoughts. Tim was a friend, but an asset first. A damn fine one at that. This needed addressing.

"Tim. Something's come up." Tony dropped an envelope on Tim's desk, walking in unannounced.

"Sure, anything you've got." He replied, without looking up from his screen.

"Involves travel. And you'll have to be on it this weekend."

Tim stopped and let out a sigh. "What's in the envelope?"

"Open it. It's a hotel in Barcelona."

"Why are we interested?" Tim asked, pulling out a brochure and more papers.

"Why? Well, I have a problem. You see, this asset I have has been very ... productive recently. But it's turning him into a fucking head case and he looks like shit."

Tim smiled. "Ah, I see."

"And as I can't do anything about it officially, I went and bought this fucking nutcase a weekend break in Barcelona. Long one. Leaving Thursday, not back until Tuesday."

"Tony, I can't take this. Yeah I've been putting in the hours but ..."

"You bloody can take it. I paid for this out of my own pocket. It's been six months Tim. Get over it. You're half way through the paper work to being a free man again. Yeah, sounds harsh, but you're still young."

"What am I going to do in Barcelona?"

"Have a fucking break, Tim. Why not take your daughter with you? Haven't seen her for ages. How is she?"

"She's good. I guess."

"Not seen much of her recently?"

Tim shook his head. "Not as much as I'd like to since we separated."

"Then take her. Or go by yourself and fuck the brains out of some hot Spanish hooker. Trust me, I've been." Tony swiped imaginary sweat from his forehead.

Tim started laughing as Tony continued. "Or get two at the same time. It's a double suite. Got a balcony. Good view as you bend 'em over."

Tim's eyes looked over the brochure. He suspected half of it was photography tricks, but it did look beautiful.

"Got any cash for the hookers?" Tim said. "Don't want that sort of thing showing up on my credit card during a divorce..."


Tim waited at the bar past migration, sitting by himself with an over-priced beer. Each sip of it seemed to place the ordeal of the last months behind him. His eyes followed the tourists and travellers as they passed, subconsciously rating them from one to ten, and wondering what kink each girl secretly harboured, and how often it was ever revealed. It was good to have that feeling again, of possibilities, or chances yet taken. So why had he brought his daughter? No, it would be good after all this time to spend time with her. He briefly thought about that day at the pool, and smiled at himself. A moments folly. That was all. Brought on by tiredness and the loneliness of working abroad. If it was enough to ruin his marriage it was enough to mess with his mind, if only for a moment. He took his glasses off to rub his eyes. Yeah. It would be good to take a break. He was feeling the need intently now.

"Dad! Made it!" Jasmine greeted him with a huge smile and made her way into the bar. She gave him a hug, long enough for him to smell her perfumed hair. "See, told you I'd get here easy enough. Can I get you a drink?"

He almost told her she was too young, but the sting of missing her 18th birthday reminded him. "Sure," Tim said. "I'll have another Amstel."

"Look after my bags, dad." She headed over to the bar, with Tim watching her every move.

If, he said to himself, if I do get laid in Barcelona, she better half hips at least as half as good as hers. He reflected for a moment. No, that was ok. Objectively Jasmine has a great figure. The sort I'd want on a woman for passionate night in Barcelona. Another woman.

The flight was only a few hours, but he managed a deep sleep. When he awoke, he realised he was erect again. He tried to adjust his pants to hide the problem. He tried to remember what he was dreaming about, but it was already gone except for the faintest trace of ...

He looked to his right. Jasmine was by the window seat, also resting. Her head was against his shoulder, her right hand resting on his thigh. He adjusted himself and reached over to her, patting her thigh gently.

"Hun, we're nearly there."

She slowly woke, sitting up straight and stretching her hands above her head. Inadvertently pushing her full, high breasts forward as she yawned.

This other woman would have to be to the complete package.


The hotel exceeded the brochure. The room was as luxurious as promised. The balcony looked south over the city and the sea. The bathroom was resplendent. A deep bath with whirlpool outlets, next to it a shower enclosed by clear walls. Hmm that might be a problem, he thought. The bed was on a slightly elevated section, separate from the lounge area.

"Dad, there's only one bed." Jasmine pointed out.

Tim hadn't noticed. "Oh, yeah. Well you know Tony at work booked it." He clicked on the TV, looking for the international news channel. "Guess he wasn't thinking. He's not really a family man. Is it going to be a problem?"

"Well its big enough, it'll be ok. You don't snore do you?"

"Ha! The cheek. I've heard you after a cocktail or two..."

But she was ignoring him, running out onto the balcony.

"Wow, dad, have you seen? There's a hot tub out here!"

Tim followed her out. There was a hot tub, a small one, with a view of the sea but positioned with a thought to privacy as well. On the other side, hidden by the wall, were three sun loungers. Three? He thought to himself. Maybe Tony had been here with two hookers.

"So, room service, or head out?"

Jasmine wanted to go exploring.


She had chosen his clothes for the evening, tan linen trousers, a white linen shirt, and made him put his contact lenses in so he could wear the Persol sunglasses she made him buy at the airport.

He couldn't have chosen a better outfit for her if he tried. A simple black dress and heels. They walked out of the hotel arm in arm, glad for the time together after so long.

They sauntered down the winding alleys of Barcelona, stopping for the odd drink and tapas before deciding that this was how they wanted to spend the evening. Strolling from tapas bar to tapas bar, a couple of dishes, a drink, and then to the next. They avoided all talk of the last few months, preferring to dwell in the present, soaking in the atmosphere. Tim saw the locals, and the tourists for that matter, looking at the beauty by his side, as well as Jasmine pretending not to notice. On the odd occasion that Tim caught someone's eye, he noticed Jasmine putting her arm around him, marking her territory.

Twice, people came to offer them roses, mistaking them for a couple. Tim joked that he should be so lucky, but Jasmine, perhaps politely, played up to it. Sitting at a street side café, watching the world go by, she excused herself, and Tim's eyes followed her. The dress was not tight, she was too classy for that, but it was fitted enough to show she couldn't be wearing anything more than a thong under that.

Eventually, the evening drew to a natural close. They made plans for the next day, and headed back to the hotel.

Jasmine took his laptop onto the balcony, updating the world, no doubt. It had been a good day. He'd have to get Tony a bottle of scotch on the way back.

Tim ran a bath and sunk into it.

He allowed himself to reflect. All those guys checking out his daughter, most probably thinking she was with him. Well, she was, but not in that way.

With her half-Indian looks she could have passed for a sun-kissed local. When he could kick her off his laptop, maybe he would find his own dark haired, sultry Iberian beauty, to know for an evening, while Jasmine was ushered off to a night club. He closed his eyes, relaxing in the bath. A girl with smooth tanned skin, perfect curves and deep dark eyes. Just like Jasmine...

Dreams of warmth. Closeness. Passion.

He was awoken by singing. Bad singing. Still lost in a half sleep, he realised it was Jasmine. He grinned as he realised there was one thing he hadn't missed since leaving home.

The water was starting to cool and he remembered where he was. He opened his eyes to see that his daughter was in the shower.

The shower was at the foot to the bath, four walls of clear glass. Jasmine had thrown a towel over the top in a bid to secure some privacy. However, it only hung as low as her ribcage, and from where he lay he could see soap suds slide down her back, down, down. Highlighting the slight bony protuberance of her hip bone. Caressing the outline of her firm arse. As she turned he saw the foam mingle with her dark pubic hair.

His cock was sticking through the water. The camouflage of bubbles long since gone. He wondered how long it had been like that, if she had seen it.

Tim knew it was becoming a problem. As beautiful as she was could he really imagine making love to this girl he had raised for the last 18 years? Of betraying that bond, abusing that trust? And on deciding to not think about it the first place his mind took him was to it. Jasmine lying on her back, beneath him... her smooth legs open in a warm embrace, her hand on his cheek...'Daddy...'

Tim startled himself and sat up, water splashing around him. The noise made Jasmine yelp and the towel swiftly came down from the glass partition and wrapped around her. The water was still running, soaking her towel before she could turn it off.

Tim grabbed his from the floor and covered himself.

"Sorry hun. Let me get you a dry one." Tim stumbled over the floor, nearly slipping. He took a dry towel and walked backwards with an outreached hand.

For some reason, Jasmine was laughing. And it felt good to hear. It was just his little girl, whom he had loved all her life, laughing at the little quirks that come with being a family. Tim felt safe again. From himself.

Tim readied himself for bed, pyjama trousers and a T-shirt, and took his glass of wine to the balcony. This was the second time he had accidentally seen Jasmine naked. Accidentally? The word played in his mind. She must have known he was coming back that day he saw her in the pool. And just now, in the shower. No, that's crazy talk, Tim. It's just you thinking like this, with this problem. She's not teasing you.

He heard a yawn, and turned to see his daughter heading towards the bed. A black tank top and pink, cotton shorts with "PINK" emblazoned in white on the back. He watched her stroll slowly over to the bed, eyes on her hips. He allowed himself to enjoy the sway they made as she crossed the room, allowed himself to watch her get into bed. Their bed.

As he walked over, she knelt on the bed, arranging her pillows. He climbed into bed carefully, staying near to the edge on his side. Jasmine slipped under the covers and shuffled towards him.

"Hold me." She said.

His arms draped over her form and she took his hand in hers. Her body resting against his. His heart raced as the scent of her hair filled him. His lips so close to her delicate neck.

"I love you dad. Goodnight."

"Goodnight gorgeous. Love you." Tim answered, meaning every word of it.


A gentle rattling noise woke him the next day. How many times had he fallen asleep so easily and so deeply in the last months?

He lifted his head to find the source of the noise. Jasmine was standing in the lounge area, using the remote to open the curtains.

He stopped himself from looking at her a moment longer than he needed to by closing his eyes against the glare of the sun.

"Morning dad."

"Morning, hun. What time is it?"

"Ten o'clock lazy bones."

Ten? That would be nearly 9 hours sleep. When was the last time that happened? Wouldn't be the booze. He had been hitting the whisky pretty hard recently.

The bed bounced and Jasmine was atop of him. He let out a little groan and leaned back on his elbows.

"OK, so I know we had plans, but can we get an hour on the beach first?"

"You mean you want to do anything other than that?"

Jasmine laughed and grabbed a pillow, holding it over her shoulder, ready to strike. "I remember spas, massages, shopping and expensive restaurants being on the list today!"

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byTimInTorment© 20 comments/ 74661 views/ 60 favorites

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