


Spitting Image

by clearwinston



Category: Incest/Taboo
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2017-04-19 09:25:00
Chapters: 1
Publisher: literotica.com
Story URL: https://www.literotica.com/s/spitting-image
Author URL:
https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=1379904&page=submissions
Summary: Carly realizes her love for her father.
Erotica Tags: Daughter, Facial, Father, Father-Daughter, First Time, Oral Sex,
Teen, Virgin
Average Rating: 4.77






        Spitting Image


Carly felt her breasts bouncing rhythmically with each impact, her body
covered in sweat, face red, her breath heavy. Her father called her name, but
it seemed so distant. Her thighs burned. The chemicals flowing through her
blood and brain were exhilarating, increasing as she rapidly approached the
finish, exploding in bliss and release. She threw her head back and shouted as
the joy overtook her, unable to control herself. Immediately a great sense of
calm and relief flooded her, allowing her to drop her head forward with a
smile. Trying to catch her breath, she peered over her shoulder at her father,
his face expressive as he burst into his own joyful release. His smile
betrayed a joy he could not contain and he wiped his hand across his forehead
to wipe the sweat away before he reached for her face as she turned into his
embrace.  
  
Her raven hair was matted to her darkly tanned forehead, but her father
brushed it back with his fingertips before kissing the top of her head and
giving her a bottle of Gatorade.  
  
"Hell of a race, champ!" he beamed. He couldn't believe his little girl was
now the state cross-country champion.  
  
"Thanks, daddy," she said with a smile. She heard screaming behind her and
turned to see two of her team mates running toward her, and a few of the boys
from the guys' team walking behind them. The girls all hugged and chattered as
Mark Ricks looked on with pride.  
  
He felt a hand on his shoulder as a deep voice behind him said, "What do you
think, dad?"  
  
He turned to see coach Stephens by his side and shook his hand with the proud
smile of a grateful father. "What can I say? She's amazing."  
  
"I'm gonna miss her next year, that's for sure," Stephens said. "She's the
first girl I've ever coached to be a state champion."  
  
"Well, she owes you a lot, coach. We both do."  
  
Coach Stephens shook his head. "No, sir. She's the champion, not me. All that
talent and speed was there before she got to me; I just helped her cut away
some of the waste. She's given me at least as much as I've given her, I assure
you."  
  
Mark nodded with appreciation as Carly trotted over and hugged her coach
around the waist. "We did it, coach!"  
  
He returned the hug with one arm around her shoulder. "YOU did it, Carly. I
was just telling your dad here that you've got that raw talent few have."  
  
"Well, you're the one who helped me unleash it, then," she beamed. "How can I
thank you?"  
  
"Just think of me when you're on that center podium at the Olympics and we'll
call it even. Fair enough?" he smiled.  
  
"Deal," she laughed.  
  
"Carly!" All three turned to see a young man in khaki pants and a Duke
University polo shirt. Carly looked at her father, who raised his eyebrows at
her and winked. He pushed on her back a little with a smile, prompting her to
meet him halfway. Carly's father and coach watched as Carly was courted by
representatives from several schools. They saw shirts and hats from Clemson,
Ohio State, Louisiana State, Georgia, Michigan, James Madison, Texas A&amp;M,
and a few they didn't recognize; probably smaller schools, they figured.  
  
The three of them were almost the last three at the stadium as it got dark and
began to cool. Carly riffled through the cards in her hand and handed them to
her father to discuss later as she put on her tracksuit. As she untucked her
ponytail from her collar, Mark asked her about dinner. "Anywhere you want,
champ," he said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She wrapped her arm
around his waist as they walked, her bag slung over her shoulder.  
  
"Can we go to Daye's? I want the steak and shrimp."  
  
"Daye's it is," he smiled back, pulling her tighter and kissing the top of her
head.  
  
The drive home was lively with her looking through the cards again and asking
her dad's opinion on the schools. He laughed as they talked, enjoying her
enthusiasm, and reminded her that they still had some time, and that she
needed to remember to go to a school with a career path she wanted because she
probably wouldn't be able to be a champion runner forever. She nodded with a
smile while throwing out some names of Olympians, marathon champions and pro
triathletes before shrugging that she knew the odds were stacked against her,
but she would enjoy the ride for as long as she could. Her father patted her
knee and winked at her before returning his hand to the wheel, turning into
the driveway.  
  
"I'll call Daye's to get on the list while you clean up, and then I'll take a
shower and change," he called out as she made her way to the front door while
he grabbed her bag out of the back of his truck.  
  
"Okay," she called back, catching the keys he had tossed her, and unlocking
the door. As soon as Mark walked in, he picked up his keys off the table in
the foyer, set Carly's bag by the steps and walked over to the answering
machine to check the messages, with "6" blinking on the base. Two of the
messages were credit card offers and the other four were from university
athletic directors, having heard from their scouts who had called from the
race. They all pretty much said the same thing: that they heard about the race
and were really excited about the potential of having Carly on their team next
year. They each left their names and numbers.  
  
Mark was suddenly tired as reality hit him like a ton of bricks. He was about
to be alone for the first time in his life. He lived with his parents until
college, where he met Amy, Carly's mother, and they had married their senior
year. Right after Mark finished his Master's degree they had moved for his new
job, and soon after, she was pregnant with Carly. Amy had died unexpectedly
from an aneurism in her lung when Carly was only eight. As he grieved his
wife's loss, he also began to focus almost entirely on Carly.  
  
Mark had always been a runner, and that was how he and Amy met, at a charity
5k at their college. They met in the stew tent after the race and hit it off.
They had done several races together, from 5k's to a couple of triathlons, but
what they really loved were the mud runs and low-pressure short races. Neither
of them had been particularly fast, never gaining any more recognition than
getting their finisher medals and shirts. He found himself looking at a
picture on the mantle of he and Amy holding their finisher medals after a 10k
with little Carly sitting in the jogging stroller, her smile bigger than
either Mark's or Amy's.  
  
He heard Carly moving around upstairs, closing the door to her bedroom, having
already taken her shower. He snapped out of his pity party. "Pull yourself
together," he muttered, pushing himself up off the couch. He called Daye's and
had his name put on their list for about an hour from now and knocked on
Carly's door to let her know.  
  
She opened the door and was wearing just her bra and panties. Mark had noticed
her growing up, but for some reason this time, something stirred. Maybe it was
his flood of emotions, maybe his thoughts of his late wife, maybe all of it
combined with his excitement at his daughter's performance this afternoon.
Either way, here she was, not even hiding behind her door, her black hair wet
and straight as she stood with a makeup brush in one hand and the door knob in
the other.  
  
Her skin was dark like her mother's, her eyes a deep brown, almost black, and
she had faint tan lines from her tank tops after spending endless hours
running and exercising in the sun. Her lips were dark red from her lipstick
and he couldn't help but notice her tone body, with the trim abdomen, set off
by a center line down her stomach and two lines on the sides from her ribs to
the front of her hips.  
  
"Daddy?" she muttered.  
  
"Daddy!" she exclaimed, snapping him out of his visual.  
  
"Oh. What?"  
  
"I said, did you need something?" she smirked and cocked her head a little bit
sideways.  
  
"Oh...uh...yeah. Daye's has our name and we need to be there by 7."  
  
Carly turned her head away to look at her clock and noticed it was 6:20. While
she was looking, her father quickly glanced down to take in her form again,
her moderate breasts and shapely legs, her ass popping out, firm and round. He
quickly looked back up as she turned. "Okay, then, so I'll be ready in about
15 minutes," she smiled.  
  
"Great. I'll go get ready."  
  
  
  
Carly closed the door and leaned back against it, her stomach filled with
butterflies. Did he feel about her the way she had felt about him for several
years? When she was 13 she accompanied him on a business trip over her spring
break, inviting Breanna to go with her. Her blonde friend, who had since moved
away, made comments about how cute Carly's father was. It was then that she
noticed for the first time how handsome and fit he was. Granted, she was
young, but she had been noticing cute boys for a couple of years, even if
never having had a real "crush" on one, and certainly having never been
kissed.  
  
That week, however, as Bre and Carly sat by the pool at the hotel while her
father was in a conference, they spent a lot of time checking out boys and
making suggestive comments back and forth, obviously neither of them really
knowing what they were talking about. Carly remembered taking a sip of her
virgin colada (which made her feel grown-up) when Bre blurted, "Your dad is
hotter than any of these guys" before popping another potato chip into her
mouth. Carly coughed out a little colada, causing Breanna to burst into fits
of laughter. As Carly wiped the freezing drink off her chest and stomach, Bre
asked, "Oh, come on, you've never noticed how hot he is?"  
  
"That's my dad, Bre," she said, not even looking up. And no, she hadn't
noticed.  
  
"Carly, you need to wake up, girl."  
  
Carly just shot her a look as Bre smiled, shaking her head before biting into
her chicken salad sandwich.  
  
That evening over dinner her father told them that his part of the conference
the next morning was only going to be a couple of hours, so he would be back
at the room by 10 so he could take them down to the beach for jet skiing,
paddle boarding, and parasailing. The girls squealed and hugged him tightly
around his neck, and he hugged them both tightly, laughing at their responses.
He told Breanna that he would call her father after dinner to make sure it was
all right so he could sign the waivers.  
  
After the conference the next morning, they all went down to the beach and
started with the jet skis and then the parasailing since they both had limited
time on the rentals, unlike the paddle boards. Carly caught herself noticing
her father's form for the first time. His light brown hair was short and
stylish and he was fit and tan from years of consistent exercise and fairly
conscious nutrition. The hair on his chest made him look masculine and rugged,
but it was not excessively hairy, and it narrowed into a thin strip that ran
down his stomach and into his board shorts.  
  
As he paddled, fell off and laughed trying to climb back on and regain his
stance several times over the day, she watched his muscles twitch and writhe
beneath his skin. This was the first time she had ever noticed her father from
a standpoint of being attractive. She hated to admit it, but Bre was right. He
was hot.  
  
Over the next several years she had noticed him aging, his hair turning a
little gray at the temples and spreading out over and behind his ears, the
rest of his scalp sprouting more and more white hairs, but his form didn't
seem to age with him. He was gaining crow's feet at the corners of his eyes,
but otherwise was not showing his age like he could be. He was still in great
shape, even if not as toned and defined as his pictures showed him when he was
younger.  
  
Carly hated to admit it, but she was becoming smitten with her father. Her
hope was that it would pass in time. Unfortunately for her, it hadn't.  
  
Now here she was at eighteen and about to go to college... somewhere, and she
was going to be leaving him for months at a time. As she stepped away from her
bedroom door and began applying her makeup again before blow drying her hair
and sliding on a short black skirt and bright green top, she thought of all
the ways her father had cared for her, ignoring his own needs to make sure she
had all she could ever want or need. He worked hard, she knew that, but he
took all his vacation and would go in early on her meet days so that he could
leave early to be at every meet and watch her race. They ran together
countless times, running races together and as she became faster than he was,
he encouraged her to run ahead and not to wait for him. Every vacation he
took, it was for him and her and she would often be encouraged to invite a
friend so she wouldn't get bored with her old dad.  
  
The knock at the door shook her out of her thinking and she realized that her
eyes were red and swollen with tears. She sniffled once. "Just a minute," she
called, grabbing a tissue and blotting at her eyes as she opened the door.  
  
"It's six for... honey, are you okay?" he asked, concern dripping from his
voice.  
  
"Huh? Oh, this," she laughed, pointing at her eye. "I stabbed myself with my
mascara brush. It happens sometimes." She smiled and blotted at her eyes,
checking herself in the mirror and sniffling once more before turning to her
father and placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Let's go," she smiled.  
  
He smiled and patted her hand as they walked down the stairs together.  
  
As the server turned to submit their order, Mark said, "Carly, I really want
you to know how proud I am of you. And not just the state championship today,
but everything about you. You're kind, smart, a gifted athlete, and a
wonderful daughter. You've never given me a hint of trouble and I don't think
I've ever thanked you for that. I love you very much, baby girl."  
  
She teared up and wiped her eyes with the green cloth napkin as she said, "I
love you, too, Daddy."  
  
He smiled and placed his hand on hers as he took a sip of his tea, and she
squeezed his hand.  
  
"Daddy?"  
  
"Yeah, sweetie?"  
  
"What do you think Momma would want me to do?"  
  
Mark was caught off-guard. "With school, you mean?"  
  
She nodded. "Do you think she would want me to stay home and go somewhere
close or to choose a scholarship at one with a good running program?"  
  
Mark leaned in close, noticing that his daughter was looking down at the
table, obviously bearing a burden that was his to carry. "Carly, look at me."
She looked up, her brow furrowed and her eyes sad. "Your mother and I both
have always wanted you to do what is best for you. You have an amazing
opportunity to go to whatever school you want and to be trained by the best
schools in the nation, maybe even the world. I hate the thought of you moving
away because I love you deeply. You're everything to me and I can't imagine my
life without you in it every day." He started to choke up, but then cleared
his throat and sternly said, "But I hate even more the thought of you throwing
away an incredible future just to stay home with me. And your mother would
feel the same way. If you choose to stay close by, that would mean I could see
you every day, which would make me very happy," he smiled. "But I would be
even happier to know that you are chasing your own future and going to the
best school to help move you along that path. You just need to know that
you're going to be seeing this ugly old mug on your campus several times a
year if you move away." He smiled and winked to let her know that he really
was okay with her moving away if she needed to.  
  
She smiled back at him, nodding and took his hand again. Right about then the
server brought their bread on a cutting block and Mark sliced and buttered a
piece for his daughter, setting her bread plate in front of her. As he
repeated it for himself, Carly broached a different subject.  
  
"Daddy, tell me again about Momma."  
  
"What do you want to know, sweetie?"  
  
"I don't know. Everything? Tell me stuff I'm old enough to know now, that I
wasn't when she was alive."  
  
"I'm not sure I follow."  
  
"Tell me more about how you met, what dating her was like, how you proposed,
all that stuff. I want to know her like you knew her."  
  
Mark sat still for a moment, and then smiled at his daughter, who smiled in
return.  
  
The rest of the evening was filled with laughter as he told her story after
story of her mother. She was a character, charming, flirty, fun. On more than
one occasion, Carly covered her mouth as she burst out laughing, muttering,
"No way!" or "Oh, my god!"  
  
  
  
This was the first time Carly had heard so many things about her mother. On
the one hand she felt guilty for taking up so much of her dad's energy and
focus that he could not take the time to tell her more about the love of his
life. She could see the burden lifting off of him as he shared and by the time
dinner had ended, they had been at the restaurant for nearly two hours,
laughing.  
  
The server, who seemed mildly annoyed at the slow turnover, returned to clear
their dinner plates and offered half-heartedly, "Will there be anything else?"  
  
"Yes, please," Carly chimed in before her father could decline. "A strawberry
tower with two spoons." She smiled at her father and the server looked at him
to verify.  
  
"You heard the lady," Mark smiled. He was in too good a mood to let the
server's attitude ruin his night with his daughter. They chatted some more
while waiting for their dessert. Soon enough a deep bowl arrived, encasing a
slice of shortcake with a scoop of ice cream, topped by another slice of cake,
another scoop of ice cream and drizzled with strawberry glaze, fresh sliced
strawberries and whipped cream on top. Nothing was said for a couple of
minutes as the two enjoyed the treat.  
  
Carly slowly pulled her spoon from her mouth upside down, dragging it through
her lips as she cleared her throat.  
  
"Daddy?"  
  
"Mmm?" He didn't even look at her as he concentrated on reaching for some more
ice cream and cake.  
  
"After momma died, how did you handle... umm... your... um... your urges?" she
whispered that last part, leaning in close.  
  
He stopped dead and looked at her, eyes wide in surprise. He sat up suddenly
and said, "Carly, that's too personal. I'm not discussing that with you."  
  
"I'm only asking because I've never seen you date since she died, which in
some ways makes sense, but in others, I would think it would be really
difficult, especially for a man."  
  
"Well, no it hasn't been easy, but I can't..."  
  
"Is everything all right over here, sir?" The server interrupted.  
  
"Yes, everything was wonderful, thank you. We're ready for the check now,
please."  
  
As soon as the server left, Mark picked up where he had left off. "I can't
talk to you about these things, Carly."  
  
"Dad, I'm eighteen, I've never had a boyfriend, it's been ten years since you
went on a date, and I'm heading to college soon. I need some guidance here,
Daddy. Please talk to me about this. I know it's not easy for you, but do you
think it's easy for me to..." she looked around the restaurant before leaning
in and whispering, "Do you think it's easy for me to ask my father about his
sex life?"  
  
Mark sighed in exasperation, running his fingers through his hair, looked at
Carly and didn't say another word. The check came and he signed for it before
standing up, leading Carly out to the car and opening the door for her to get
in. Yes, he did notice her shapely legs and yes he did notice the slight
jiggle of her breasts in her green top and yes he did notice the tingle in his
groin that signaled excitement, that tickle that precedes an erection.  
  
Neither said anything in the car for a few minutes. Carly was staring out the
passenger side window at the restaurants and shops, her face intermittently
illuminated by the overhead street lamps.  
  
"Your mother was a very vivacious woman, Carly." She turned, surprised at her
father's voice. He didn't look at her, but instead appeared to be actively
avoiding it. "In every aspect of her life. It was no different in the
bedroom." He sighed and looked at her. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"
he asked. She nodded and he nodded in return.  

Clearing his throat, he continued. "Amy was the only woman I've ever loved.
She's the only woman I've ever been with, so she is the entirety of my sexual
experience. She was a willing teacher and a willing student. We learned each
other and we trusted each other to the point that neither of us would deny the
other whatever they desired sexually. We experimented some, but always just
with each other. We both knew there would never be anyone else in our bed with
us. Every part of our bodies was available to give and receive pleasure, and
it drew us closer the longer we were together.  
  
"She groomed herself to my liking, and I did the same for her. She dressed for
me and I for her. We wanted our relationship to be enveloped in service to
each other. She made me a better man and taught me what it meant to be a
husband and lover and friend. Carly, you were born out of the love we had for
each other. Every time I look at you I see so much of your mother. Your hair
and skin and eyes are all just like Amy's. She said you had my competitive
streak, but I said you had her spirit of adventure. We both acknowledged that
you were your own person, the best of both worlds we would say."  
  
"When it came to... sex... what kind of stuff did she like?"  
  
"Sweetie, I don't..."  
  
"Please, Daddy." Her face was pleading. She had won him over countless times
with that face.  
  
He sighed as he pulled into the driveway. Gripping the steering wheel tightly
with both hands and looking down he said, "Why don't we get changed so we can
relax and maybe we'll talk some more. I'm still trying to work through some of
this."  
  
"Okay, Daddy." She leaned over and kissed his cheek before getting out of the
car. He watched her pull her keys from her purse and open the door. She looked
back at him, still in the car, before walking inside and closing the door. As
Carly walked to her room, her stomach was aflutter again. She closed her
bedroom door behind her and unbuttoned her shirt as she walked to the closet,
kicking her shoes into it and pulling a hanger off the bar before tossing it
on the bed. Removing her shirt, she admired herself in the mirror. Her breasts
were not large, but she wasn't flat chested, either. Her core was tight, her
arms tone, her neck slim. The white fabric of her bra contrasted deeply with
her skin.  
  
Picking up a picture of her mother from her dresser, she looked at her in a
new light. She ran her hand down the glass, touching her mother's face and
hair, looking for herself in her mother's face. Looking through the picture,
she caught her own reflection in the glass, overlaying her mother's image and
smiled. Carly stood in front of the mirror and compared her own features to
her mother's. Did she really look so similar? Could her father see her with
the same eyes he saw her mother with?  
  
She realized her nipples were pressing against the bra and remembered what she
had come in here for. Riffling through her pajama drawer, she picked up her
lounge pants with cheetah print and held the flannel in her hand as she
reached for the white t-shirt that had a matching pink cheetah print heart in
the center. Before she closed the drawer, however, she stopped and looked in
the mirror again.  
  
  
  
"How much am I supposed to share?" Mark asked in the rearview mirror, ashamed
to look himself in the eye. "What the hell am I even doing?" He took a deep
breath and opened the door. As he entered the house, Carly was nowhere to be
found. He climbed the stairs and saw the light peeking out from under her
bedroom door and realized she was still changing. Comforted by that, he walked
to his room, used the restroom and changed into his gym shorts and t-shirt,
the most comfortable thing he owned. As he changed, he heard Carly leave her
room and bound down the stairs. Once he was finished changing he made his way
downstairs to the living room. He rounded the corner just as his daughter was
rounding the corner from the kitchen.  
  
"Oh, shit," he thought, hoping he didn't say it out loud.  
  
"I made you a drink, Daddy. Rum and Coke, as you like it. I hope it's okay
that I made me one, too. Not as strong of course because I'm a lightweight,
but I thought it might help us relax."  
  
She stood there holding the two drinks with a subtle smile on her face. She
noticed the look on her father's face and it made her tingle. "I hope I'm
being smart," she thought to herself.  
  
"No, yeah, that's fine," Mark finally sputtered. He watched as his daughter
sashayed toward him, a swing in her hips, the two mixed drinks hovering in
front of her, ice clinking against the glasses. What the hell was she wearing?
Where were the lounge pants and t-shirt she usually wore? Instead, tonight she
wore a spaghetti strap indigo nightgown that came to mid-thigh.  
  
She padded across the living room carpet, watching as her father's eyes
focused on her hips and legs. She could feel her nipples being caressed by the
satin of her gown and wondered if her father noticed. Did she even want him
to?  
  
She handed her father his drink and sat on the couch, her feet tucked under
her as she leaned against the back of the sofa. She took a sip of her drink as
she looked over the rim of her glass into her father's eyes. He mirrored her,
sipping his own elixir before he broke his gaze away.  
  
"Thank you for the drink, sweetie," he said with a smile. Clearing his throat,
he looked at his lap and began, "I'm not sure how to do this, Carly. I want
you to know what you need to know, but I also realize how sensitive this topic
is and want to handle it correctly. Do you understand?" He looked into her
eyes.  
  
She smiled a little and nodded. "I understand, Daddy." She took another sip of
her drink as her father smiled and began.  
  
"Sex is very personal and should not be taken lightly. It's unlike anything
else, and it should be treated that way. When you have sex with someone, it
can either strengthen your bond with that person or it can drive a wedge in an
already stressful relationship. It shouldn't be used as just a test to see if
the relationship will work or if you're compatible. It can blind you to
problems, but it can also magnify them. So when you find someone that you love
and want to begin a sexual relationship with them, take your time, okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Now," he breathed, "What are you looking for here?"  
  
"Well," she blushed, "I don't have any kind of experience. I've never even
kissed a boy. I know basic biology, of course, but I want to know what sex is
like and since I love you and trust you and I know how much you loved Momma, I
want to hear from you what I should consider."  
  
"I'll do what I can, but I'll need some leeway in what I feel comfortable
with, okay?"  
  
"Okay, Daddy." She took a sip of her drink, prompting Mark to do the same.  
  
"So what do you want to know?"  
  
"Um, tell me about your first time."  
  
"Wow, jumping right into it, huh?" he smiled. Carly just shrugged with a smile
and took another sip. "Like I said, your mother was my first lover and I was
head over heels in love. We actually flowed into it naturally. It wasn't
something that we had planned that on that night we would make love, but it
was something that we eased into that night. We had touched each other before,
but..."  
  
"Hang on. Back up. What do you mean you had touched each other before that?
Tell me about that, too."  
  
"Oh... uh... we had been going out for a few months and had made out plenty of
times, but this one night I decided to risk touching her... breast... over her
clothes and she moaned and I felt her kind of lean into it, which let me know
she was into it. It was the first breast I had touched, you know, so I just
kind of experimented with rubbing on it and squeezing it. We were both really
enjoying it and she pulled back a little and whispered in my ear to touch
her... you know... down there, and..."  
  
"What did she say?" Carly looked a little flush, he noticed. She took a sip of
her drink, but was also gently rubbing her bare thigh. He noticed that her
nipples poked against her gown and he had to force himself to look away,
taking another sip of his own drink.  
  
Carly couldn't believe how turned on she was getting at just hearing about her
parents making out. She could almost feel a hand on her breast although the
only one she had ever had there was her own. She wondered if her mother could
come with just nipple play like she could. She had discovered it accidentally
a couple of years ago as she fantasized and began touching herself. Feeling
the jolts of electricity burst through her as she rolled and pinched and
pulled on her nipples, surprised her, but she was thankful for the discovery.  
  
"She placed my hand between her legs and told me to... uh... touch her..." he
took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "her pussy." His own arousal increased
as he remembered the feel of her lips on his ear, the whisper of the first
time she had said that word to him, and the feel of the heat on his hand. Only
this time it was accentuated with a sharp gasp from his daughter, responding
to the word as it escaped his lips. "I'm sorry, Carly. I shouldn't have said
that."  
  
"No, I'm glad you said it. Please don't be clinical when you're telling me
your love story. I asked and even I'm surprised at the language, but I want to
hear your story. I've heard these words before, Daddy. I've just never heard
them from you. It's okay."  
  
He nodded and continued. "We played like that for a little while, your mother
grinding her hips on my hand and covering my hand on her breast with her own
as she told me what she liked and showed me."  
  
"So she told you what to do, then?"  
  
"That's right."  
  
"What did she say? And remember, use her words."  
  
"She said, 'Squeeze my... my tit and pinch my nipple.' When I did that she...
had an orgasm."  
  
"Came?"  
  
"Yes. She came."  
  
"We must be alike, just like you said, Daddy. I'm sensitive there, too. Keep
going."  
  
Mark didn't know what to do with that rather candid remark, so he tried to
refocus before his mind went where it didn't need to go. "Then she pulled her
shirt off over her head and pulled her bra cup down. It was the first time I
had ever seen her breast and I instantly fell in love with it."  
  
"What did they look like?" Carly asked.  
  
"They were... not big, but they weren't small. I guess that's subjective,
though. I think she said at some point that they were B's."  
  
"That's what I am, too. Were her nipples dark?"  
  
Again he had to rein in his imagination. "Yes, like a deep purplish brown, you
know?"  
  
"I know exactly," she nodded with a smile, taking another sip. "When she
pulled her bra down, did she ask you to use your mouth?"  
  
"Not exactly," he laughed a little. "Instead she grabbed my head and shoved me
into her tit."  
  
"Go, Momma!" cheered Carly with a laugh, lightening the mood a little. Her
nipples were still erect and her panties had moistened through the description
her dad gave her. "Did you get into each other's pants that night, too?"  
  
He nodded, still smiling. "She placed my hand, the one that had been between
her legs, on the snap of her jeans, and I took the hint. While I was doing
that, she placed her hand on my..." He paused, not sure what to say.  
  
After a brief pause, she picked it up. "Dick? Prick? Cock? Tin Soldier?" her
voice was jovial as she offered her dad "acceptable" terms to choose from.  
  
"Tin Soldier?" he asked, laughing.  
  
"What did she call it?" she snickered.  
  
"She liked to call it a cock because she thought it sounded dirtier," he
admitted.  
  
"So she had her hand on your cock," Carly prompted.  
  
"Over my jeans," he clarified. Then added with a smile, "At first. But when I
pulled her jeans down, she didn't take off her panties, but instead tucked my
hand into her waistband. I pushed my hand down and still remember the first
feel of her pubic hair and was surprised at how soft the skin was. It was
unlike anything else I'd ever felt before. She pressed my middle finger on her
clitoris and guided me how to move over it, then gave me a chance to explore.
I was amazed at how easily my fingers naturally glided down and into her." He
took another sip. "The inside of a woman's body is so much more complex than I
had thought it would be. She showed me how to bring her pleasure and again she
used my hand to come for a second time."  
  
"What did you notice most about her when she came, Daddy?"  
  
He had forgotten that it was his daughter asking him these questions and began
to speak more candidly. His mind was back on that night: the sights, sounds,
feelings, scents. He fell in love with late wife again, something he hadn't
done in several years. He took another sip and crunched on a piece of ice. "I
loved the look on her face. I had never seen a woman in the throes of an
orgasm before. Her eyes rolled back and her stomach tensed with spasms. Her
breasts jiggled lightly and her nipples just seemed to poke right out. I felt
her pussy clamp around my fingers rhythmically as she released more
lubricant." He shook his head as he stared out into nothing. "I was so hard it
hurt," he laughed, then turned to look at Carly, "But she took care of that in
a hurry, let me tell you. She pulled my hand from her panties and looked me in
the eye as she sucked my fingers clean. I couldn't say or do anything; it's
like I was hypnotized.  
  
"Almost immediately she shoved her tongue into my mouth and I could taste her
on her own tongue. That was the first taste I had of her, of any woman. After
the first time I gave her oral sex..."  
  
"You mean 'ate her pussy'?" asked Carly.  
  
He looked at her briefly before continuing. "After the first time I ate her
pussy, I was so thankful that I first tasted her that way. Don't get me wrong,
I loved doing that and I loved her taste, but it took me a little while. My
brain had to associate her scent and taste with sexual pleasure. That first
kiss muted it a little bit and I was able to get a sense of what I was facing
if the day ever came. It quickly grew to be something I craved. I loved to eat
her out."  
  
"Wow," Carly muttered quietly.  
  
"Oh, god, Carly, I'm sorry! That was too much. I'm so, so sorry!" He turned
toward her on the couch, grief-stricken at what he had just said to his little
girl.  
  
"No. Daddy, that was just...wow," she laughed. "I've never seen you so
expressive before. Please don't stop! What happened next?"  
  
He relaxed a little, knowing that she was interested. He noticed that the hand
on her thigh was resting at the hem of her gown, which had ridden up a little
higher, but not enough to expose her panties, thankfully (or not). She was
gripping her thigh rhythmically. Squeeze... release... squeeze... release. He
looked back up at her face. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes glazed over,
as if she were hanging on every word. Her face was still flush and her nipples
were still erect. He wanted to touch her, but he wouldn't. He still wouldn't.  
  
"Anyway," he tried to regain his footing in the story. Now he was enjoying it
more. Enjoying the memory, enjoying the telling, enjoying her reaction. He
wanted to tell it now. He didn't know why; he knew it wasn't proper or even
remotely appropriate. "She squeezed me through my pants and as she kissed me,
she moaned when she felt it. She stroked it over my jeans, moaning. I didn't
think women did that; I didn't think she would get excited at the thought of
me being excited."  
  
"I would. I would get excited at the thought of a man getting hard thinking of
me, looking at me, touching me... Tasting me." She ran one finger over her
lips. "Keep going."  
  
Mark tried to refocus, but it took a moment. The rum must be getting to him,
although it shouldn't be; he hadn't even finished one mixed drink yet, and
that on a full stomach. His daughter just seemed so... sexual... so seductive
tonight. He shook his head a little. "Where was I?"  
  
"Momma was moaning as she stroked your cock," Carly said almost in a whisper.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Right. She said, 'Can I take it out? I want to see it. I want to
touch it.' I'll never forget that. I think I said yes because I don't
remember. Amy said that I just nodded dumbly when she asked me. Next thing I
know my zipper is down and your mother's hand is wrapped around my shaft
before she pulled it through the zipper."  
  
"What did she think of it?" asked his little girl.  
  
"She stroked it and called it beautiful."  
  
"How big is it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"How big is it?" she repeated, more insistent this time.  
  
"I don't know," he answered sharply. "And what kind of question is that
anyway?"  
  
He sounded perturbed she thought. "I just wanted a point of reference."  
  
He sighed, "It's about" he held his fingers a few inches apart, "this big."
She reached up and placed her fingers next to his, then brought them down to
her belly as she leaned back a little, placing one hand at her groin and the
other up by her navel, over the gown. Mark just looked on in a stupor, not
believing what he was seeing, but wondering if he was reading something into
nothing.  
  
"I can't imagine having something that big in my pussy," she said, shaking her
head, "But I hear good things. Maybe I would get used to it if momma did." She
took her hands away, but continued to recline against the arm of the couch.
Her knees were together now, so he couldn't see up her gown, but Mark noticed
that her nipples were still hard. "Did she jerk you off until you came on her
hand?" she asked matter-of-factly.  
  
"Yes. It was a good thing it was late at night because I went home with dark
spots on my jeans and shirt. My roommates would have given me hell and pushed
for details. I did sleep good that night, though." Mark noticed that his gym
shorts were tented from the thoughts of Amy coming on his hand, jerking him
off, and tasting both her own and his orgasms off her fingers.  
  
He's not the only one who noticed. Carly had watched his erection grow and
tent his shorts as her own panties continued to moisten.  
  
The room was silent for a moment, neither of them sure if the story was really
over. She had originally asked about his first time with her mother, but then
demanded he tell her about the first time they touched each other. Did he dare
continue on?  
  
Carly had plenty of fuel for her fantasies and she knew more about her father
than she had before. Was that enough? Her pussy said no, but her brain
cautioned her against pushing too hard. What if he changed his mind tomorrow,
though? This could be the last time he was willing to talk so candidly with
her about this. If he came to his senses, would he ever be okay with
addressing this again?  
  
"So that was the first time we touched each other," Mark said after taking
another drink and crunching on the ice. "But you asked first about our first
time making love."  
  
Carly nodded, trying to control her excitement.  
  
"Once we had touched each other that first time, it became much more frequent.
After a few more weeks, we started with oral sex, and I learned to really
appreciate her taste and the texture of her pussy on my mouth. Like I said, I
started to crave it. There were times I would meet her between classes just so
I could pull her into a corner somewhere and get a taste of her. Maybe I would
pull her pants down or flip up her skirt, or sometimes I would just run my
fingers into her underwear and suck my fingers clean like a junkie."  
  
"Oh my god, Daddy! You loved the taste that much?"  
  
"I loved her that much AND I loved the taste that much."  
  
"That's so hot," she said, now rubbing herself through her gown. She didn't
seem to hide it and didn't seem to care if he noticed it. He did.  
  
"Is this turning you on, sweetie?" Mark asked plainly.  
  
"Yes, Daddy," she breathed.  
  
"It's okay if you touch yourself. I don't mind. I'll look somewhere else."  
  
"You don't have to, Daddy. It's okay if you watch. And Daddy?"  
  
"Yes, angel?"  
  
"It's okay if you touch yourself, too."  

"I don't know that I should."  
  
"It's all right. I know you're thinking about Momma. But..." she paused,
biting her lip.  
  
"But what, sweetheart?"  
  
"But if you think about me, that's okay, too."  
  
"Oh, god," he breathed, dropping his head back against the couch.  
  
"Finish your story, Daddy. You and Momma were just about to... fuck."  
  
His head shot up and whipped around to look at her. There was a fire in her
eyes. The veil had been removed and she wasn't hiding her lust anymore. He had
seen that same fire in her mother's eyes for almost fifteen years and
recognized it, plain as day. "It was finals week," he began, his eyes never
leaving hers.  
  
"We had both finished some big tests and she had two easy finals left, but I
only had one, which would be only moderately difficult. Even if I didn't show
up to the exam I could still walk away with an A in the class. We were at the
pizza place near campus and Amy said, 'It's such a relief to be done with
those classes. We should celebrate!' I agreed and hinted at dessert. I leaned
over and told her I would eat her out until she collapsed from exhaustion. She
nodded and took a sip of her Coke with a smile, but then took a bite of pizza
as she said, 'Or you could just fuck me bowlegged.'" He laughed at both the
memory and at his daughter's wide-eyed expression.  
  
"She really said that?" she exclaimed, eyes wide open.  
  
"Yeah," he laughed. "And I had the exact same expression you do right now, and
your mother busted up laughing at me. I played it off, laughing with her until
she grabbed the next waitress that walked past and asked for a to-go box. She
placed the pizza in the box as I worked on my slice and she stood up from the
booth, pizza in one hand and purse over her shoulder. I said, 'Oh, you were
serious?' She laughed and said 'Absolutely! I've waited long enough.' That was
the fastest I'd ever started out of the gate!"  
  
"Her apartment door was barely closed when she dropped to her knees and fished
my cock out. She had me in her mouth as she unfastened my jeans and I peeled
off my shirt. I'd never seen her this horny before. I tried to pull her up,
but she slapped my hand away and continued to suck on me while her hands
unbuttoned her shirt, released her bra, and unfastened her jeans. She was
working herself over as she gave me a world-class blowjob."  
  
Mark noticed his daughter's hand had moved into her panties, her gown gathered
up above the waistband, trapped by her wrist. He could see her knuckles
circling as they kept the fabric of her panties at bay, stretching it to
accommodate her fingers. He risked sliding his own hand into his shorts and
slowly stroked himself. He looked up at his daughter's face and noticed that
her eyes were fixed on his groin. Oddly, this prompted him to keep going. He
felt the slick moisture on the back of his hand as it glided over the wet spot
his pre-cum had left on the inside of his boxer briefs.  
  
He continued to watch Carly's face as she watched his hand move beneath the
fabric of his shorts. She looked up at his face and they made eye contact. As
she looked into his eyes, her hand continuing to explore herself, he said,
"Your mother came on her hand, her fingers probably delving into her pussy as
she sucked my cock. Her orgasm was enough to bring on mine. I didn't even warn
her. I just placed my hand on her head and came in her mouth. I knew she would
swallow it. She always did unless I asked for something different."  
  
"What else did you ask for?" breathed his daughter.  
  
"Sometimes I would ask for her to let it run back out onto my cock and balls.
Sometimes I would come on her tits or her face." Carly gasped, her hand moving
more rapidly. "Sometimes she would spit it back into her hand and rub it on
her tits or pussy or ass. She looked so sexy covered in my spunk."  
  
Carly grunted and flinched on her hand. "Oh, Daddy," she gasped, her eyes
squeezed shut as her climax bolted through her.  
  
Mark couldn't hold it in if he wanted to. All this talk of fucking his wife,
the images and replays of his time with her, the knowledge that his daughter
was both masturbating and watching him do the same, and the final straw of
watching her come, pushed him over the edge. Flashes of light burst behind his
eyelids and he groaned as his seed burst from his head to fill his shorts and
run down over his hand. He didn't know if Carly saw or not. She could have
still been wrapped up in her own release.  
  
His question was soon answered when he opened his eyes and saw her looking at
him, pulling her slick fingers from her mouth with a smile.  
  
Post-orgasmic bliss never came for him. Instead, he was immediately smacked
with guilt and shame. He stood and walked toward the stairs.  
  
"Daddy?" she called, partially panicked.  
  
He stopped, but didn't turn around. "Yes, angel?"  
  
"Aren't you going to finish your story?"  
  
He thought for a moment before answering as he looked at the picture on the
wall in front of him. It was he and Amy and six-year-old Carly in a studio
shot, all smiles. His heart sank. "I think I've said enough."  
  
"Oh. Okay." He heard her shuffle toward him before feeling her hand on his
back, touching him gently. "Good night, Daddy. I love you," she practically
whispered, breezing past him up the stairs without looking back.  
  
"I love you, too, baby girl." His voice cracked.  
  
  
  
"I'm not a little girl anymore."  
  
Mark was startled awake. The sun was barely coming up and he was awakened
early from a fitful "sleep" on a Saturday. He turned to see Carly sitting on
his bed in her lounge pants and t-shirt, staring at a picture in her hands.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said I'm not a little girl anymore, Daddy."  
  
He sat up, sure to keep the covers at his waist, even though he had opted to
sleep in his underwear last night after cleaning up and changing. "I know
that, Carly," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. It was too early for this.  
  
"Do you?" she demanded, her voice harsh. She dropped the picture in his lap.
It was the one he was staring at last night, the picture of the family when
she was six. "Are you sure you don't still see me this way?" she asked,
pointing at herself in the picture.  
  
"You don't understand, angel."  
  
"Then please explain it," she begged. "Help me understand." Her shoulders
dropped as she looked at him pleadingly.  
  
He sighed. "Part of me knows that you're a young woman now, the same part that
knows that legally you can make all your own decisions and that I can't stop
you from any of it. You can go to whatever college you want and I can't
prevent it, you can join the military and fight in a war, you can vote, you
can drink in some states, buy pot in some states, and there's not a damned
thing I can do. You can date, make porn, marry, have surgery, buy insurance,
get in credit card debt, and whatever else you want and whether it's a good
decision or a bad one, it all falls directly on your shoulders! I get that!
And it scares the shit out of me!"  
  
"But why, Daddy?"  
  
"Because I'm your father, sweetie." His tone softened, as did his heart. "Part
of my job as a father is to care for you and protect you. It's my job to give
you opportunities, but also to temper those opportunities with guidelines and
advice so you can learn to make good choices. Sometimes that means I even have
to protect you from myself, from my own wishes and desires. You may not be a
little girl anymore, sweetheart, but I'll always be your daddy."  
  
"I know you would never do anything to hurt me, Daddy." Her voice was softer
now, too. "I know what happened last night wasn't what you were expecting. And
I kind of wasn't either. But I don't regret it."  
  
She reached over and took the picture from the bed and replaced it with
another one, this one just a snapshot without a frame. "This is the girl I
want you to see now. Look at it, Daddy," she said softly.  
  
"Baby..."  
  
"Please, Daddy. Look at it."  
  
He picked it up and a mix of emotions flooded him again. It was from her 18th
birthday party. It was a pool party barbecue with a few of her friends. He
remembered that day vividly because he had to concentrate so hard not to
continually watch his daughter and her friends in their bikinis. He gave an
excuse that he would leave them alone and would only come outside to check the
ice and drinks in the cooler and to refill snacks if they needed it. He
presented it as if he was trying to give them their privacy, but instead it
was him who needed to be away from them. From her.  
  
"I saw how you looked at me, Daddy, how you've looked at me for a long time. I
see you checking me out when we swim and when I'm laying out. I know you do
yard work while I tan so you can look at me from behind your sunglasses. Do
you work in the yard without a shirt so I can see you, too?" she asked.  
  
His face was flush, his heart racing. "I think you need to leave, Carly."  
  
"Answer my question."  
  
"Carly!"  
  
"Answer me, dammit!" she yelled, her eyes filled with rage. "Don't leave me
out here by myself!"  
  
"YES! I see you as a beautiful young woman! I hate that I can't see that line
anymore!" he began to weep into his hands as he confessed to her. "I never
wanted to want you like this! I've tried to be a good father, to take care of
you and to protect you, to give you everything. I've been waiting for a storm
of boys to come knocking on my door for years, but they would never come. I
prepared myself as I watched you grow, that one day I would have to fight them
off with a stick, but I've never had one phone call asking you out, one visit
from a boy interested in you. Why, Carly? Why am I the only one who wants
you?" He sobbed as he asked.  
  
"You're not," she said, her own tears hot on her cheeks. "I've just turned
down all those boys because you're the one I want. The only one I want."  
  
Mark Ricks was blindsided by his daughter's confession. He looked up at her
and part of him wanted so badly to hold her as she cried, to be her father.
But he was afraid, so afraid, that if he touched her, held her close, that he
wouldn't be able to help himself. He was so weak.  
  
"I'm such a freak, Carly. I'm sick for wanting you like this, and now that I
know you know, I need you to help me fight against it. If you need to move out
or go to a college far away or cut me out of your life forever, I'm prepared
to make that happen. I hate to lose you, but if the best thing is for you to
stay away from me, then I understand that."  
  
"Fuck you!" she wailed, standing up suddenly, her fists balled at her side.
"You don't get to push me away because you want me. You don't get to deny me
my only family because of your own weakness! And you don't get to throw me out
like nothing so you don't have to look at me. You made promises to me just
yesterday that I was going to see you all the time, and now all of a sudden
you're backing out? Where does that leave me? How do I answer those questions?
'No, I'm not going home for Christmas because my mom's dead and my dad wants
to fuck me.'"  
  
"What do I do, Carly?" he sighed, trying to settle himself and her.  
  
She dropped onto his bed by his hip. After a moment of silence, the air thick
with tension, she simply posed a question. "Why do we have to do anything?"  
  
Mark looked at his daughter who was fidgeting with a string on the seam of her
pants. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Now we both know how we feel. Nothing is really different than it was
yesterday, except that we know."  
  
"Yeah, but that changes everything."  
  
"Why? Why does it have to change everything?"  
  
"It just does," he said, exasperated.  
  
"Daddy, how long have you wanted me?" she asked.  
  
He thought for a minute, hating to answer her. "A year, I guess, maybe a
little more."  
  
"Five," she said. "I've wanted you for five years."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Remember that beach trip with Breanna when I was thirteen?"  
  
"Yeah." Carly raised an eyebrow and nodded. "That long?"  
  
"See what I mean? We've been doing this for a long time already. Last night we
just opened up a little and this morning we are closer because of it. I didn't
know all that stuff about you until the last twelve hours. And now you know
something about me that you didn't know until the last twelve hours."  
  
"I guess, but a lot can change in a day."  
  
"It's not a car wreck, Daddy; it's a profession of mutual love."  
  
"Romantic-slash-sexual attraction between a father and daughter."  
  
"Be that as it may..."  
  
"So now what?"  
  
"Are you willing to see how it plays out? Just let things flow, not forced one
way or the other?"  
  
"Are you sure this is what you want? You're okay with this?"  
  
"I'm positive, Daddy."  
  
He sat for a minute, staring at the ceiling, Carly quiet by his side. He
looked over at her and smiled and nodded. "Okay, let's see what plays out."  
  
"Really?!" She squealed. He nodded before she knocked the back of his head
into the headboard by lunging at him to hug his neck. "Ouch. I'm sorry,
Daddy," she laughed as he laughed while rubbing his head.  
  
"It's okay. If you'll let me get up, I'll take you out for breakfast."  
  
"Our first date?" she asked.  
  
"I was just thinking of a dad taking his daughter to breakfast, but I'm okay
counting it as our first date."  
  
"Yay!" she squealed, bouncing off his bed and running out of his room before
slamming her door closed to change.  
  
Mark just laughed to himself, appreciating her excitement. He was still
nervous about it, but there was also a sense of relief about having it out in
the open and knowing that she was okay with his feelings for her; even more,
she had returned them in kind.  
  
  
  
They caught the breakfast crowd just right. They were too late for the early-
risers/yard salers, but ahead of the brunch crowd. Carly prompted him to ask
for a table in a corner, reminding him quietly that they were on a date. To
anyone else, it would look like a daddy-daughter breakfast, but to Carly
especially, it was her first date with the man of her dreams. And he didn't
mind one bit.  
  
The older hostess smiled as she seated them at a small corner table by a
window and they were quickly greeted by a genteel young woman who cared for
their needs throughout the remainder of their meal. As soon as she left after
taking their order Carly poured cream into her coffee and stirred it in as her
father was taking a sip of his.  
  
"You didn't finish your story," she smiled, setting her spoon on a napkin.  
  
"What? Here?" Mark asked, astonished.  
  
"Trust me, you're safer here than at home."  
  
"Good point. Where was I?"  
  
"Momma had just swallowed your spunk while she played with herself."  
  
"Oh," he blushed, "Right." He cleared his throat. "That helped me last a
little while, which was her plan all along. She said the last thing she wanted
was for me to be done in under a minute." He smiled and shook his head.  
  
"Does that really happen?" she asked.  
  
"Yep. If a guy is excited enough, he can be quick on the trigger. Relieving
some of that pressure may help him stay up and ready a little longer. Of
course, he can train himself over time to establish that stamina, but
remember, this was my first time and the anticipation itself could have been
enough to make me blow early."  
  
"Was it Momma's first time?"  
  
"No. She had had one other boyfriend in high school, but after that first
semester in college, he broke it off. We met the next fall. So Amy knew a
little bit, but she said he wasn't a very good lover (go figure), so although
she had some experience, really it was our time together that made for great
sex."  
  
"Okay, so go ahead."  
  
"She pulled me to the bedroom and lay back on the bed. While she watched me
take off my pants, she started ma-"  
  
"Here ya go," said the waitress, setting down two giant country breakfasts in
front of them. They thanked her before she left. When she was out of earshot,
Mark continued.  
  
"She started masturbating and was really giving me a show."  
  
"We do sound a lot alike," Carly added with a smirk.  
  
"Wait, you mean..."  
  
"I liked you watching me last night. It was hotter than the story."  
  
He shook his head in disbelief, smiling at the thought. "Just like your
mother," he said. He continued, "So she's bringing herself over and I'm
getting hard again. She smiles and says, 'Come on, Lover. I'm all yours.' I
was on her in a flash. I ate her for a minute, but she put a stop to that,
reminding me that she wanted, in her words, 'to be split by my big cock.'"  
  
"Oh, my god, Daddy," muttered Carly, "I can only imagine." She knew her
nipples were hard, but didn't care if he noticed or not. She kind of hoped he
did.  
  
He did. Mark tried not to stare. Last night he was hesitant to share this
story. What he learned this morning turned that completely around.  
  
"Needless to say, I didn't last long. The wet velvet embrace of her pussy was
the most amazing thing I had ever experienced."  
  
"Did she let you come in her or did she make you pull out?"  
  
"She wanted me to pull out, but as soon as I did, she stroked me off and I
shot all the way from her cheek to her bush. That was the first time I had
seen her sprayed and it's like snapshot in my mind." He shrugged and said, "So
that's the story of our first time." He took a bite of his eggs, letting that
statement hang for a moment.  
  
"Wait, so that's it? She didn't come at the same time?"  
  
"Carly, I told you it was our first time. More specifically it was MY first
time. That doesn't just happen. You have to learn each other, work together,
communicate, and make adjustments. Most of the time we didn't come together
anyway, but we would make sure each other were satisfied."  
  
"So all those movies where the first sex is stellar is..."  
  
"Fiction. Sex can be stellar, but a lot of times the first time two people are
together it can be exciting, but it won't be the best sex they have together."  
  
"Nicholas Sparks is a liar," she said, stabbing at her eggs while her father
burst into laughter.  
  
  
  
As Carly stepped around the car to take her father's arm again, she asked,
"So, what do you have planned for today?"  
  
"I have some work to do in the yard."  
  
"Mm," she looked up at the sky. "It looks like a nice day to tan." Carly
looked up at her father's face with a sly smile. He returned her smile as he
opened the front door.  
  
"I guess it's a little warm to wear a shirt while I mow the lawn."  
  
"It does seem that way," she replied.  
  
After Mark closed the door behind him, he turned back around to see Carly
standing before him with her hands behind her back. "I enjoyed our date,
Daddy," she said, taking a step toward him. "Would you think badly of me if I
let you kiss me on the first date?" She didn't think it would occur to her
father that this would also be her first kiss with any boy, but she didn't
want to put any pressure on him. She was nervous even asking for a kiss, but
she at least knew that they both wanted the same thing.  
  
He stepped toward her with a smile. "I wouldn't think badly of you at all. As
long as you promise not to judge me for being so out of practice."  
  
"Maybe you should start practicing more. Like, a lot more." Her stomach
tightened up as his hand snuck around her waist to rest on her lower back. She
felt him pull her the closing inches into him until they were pressed lightly
together. For some reason she licked her lips. Her eyes closed on their own
before she felt her father's soft lips rest on hers for a moment before a
tingle traveled to her stomach and surprisingly, down to her groin.  
  
Mark hadn't kissed anyone in over a decade. Yes he had kissed his daughter on
the cheek every night before he tucked her in or left for school, and at
random times during the day. He had probably kissed her cheek or the top of
her head fifty thousand times over the years, but he's never kissed her like
this. The only woman he'd ever kissed like this was her mother, but not since
the morning of her death.  
  
The kiss she had asked for was affecting him more than he had expected it
would. His cock began to stir and he found himself tentatively aggressive.
This was new and he wasn't sure yet how he should play it, but he couldn't
help himself.  

The kiss was nice, Carly thought. She loved the feel of her father pressed
against her. Her nipples twisted up in excitement at her father's first kiss
after their first date, but it was the soft tongue grazing her upper lip that
made her jump and gasp before backing away.  
  
Shit, thought Mark. I pushed too far. "I'm sorry, Carly."  
  
"For what?" she giggled, lightly touching her fingertips to her lips. "That
was nice."  
  
"It was nice," he agreed.  
  
"That's not all I get, is it?"  
  
"It's up to you. I'll kiss you as much as you want."  
  
This time she stepped forward on her own and wrapped her arms around his neck.
His hands made their way around her waist again, only this time he responded
to her tongue, and found himself becoming aroused. They both worked into the
kiss, overwhelmed with passion. After a few minutes, Carly stepped back.
"Wow," she breathed, sliding her hands from around her father's neck.  
  
"That about sums it up for me, too," he confirmed.  
  
"Well, I'm, uh, I'm gonna go change," Carly explained, backing away. "I'm sure
you need to get started on that lawn." She turned and ran up the stairs. Mark
snickered and shook his head before walking upstairs himself to change.  
  
  
  
"Daddy!" Carly shouted, drawing Mark's attention. She stood on the deck by the
pool in her yellow bikini and mirrored sunglasses. She waved a bottle of
sunscreen in her hand as she smiled at him. Shutting off the mower, Mark
walked toward his daughter, eying her from behind his own pair of sunglasses.  
  
She smirked at her father as he approached, his taut abdomen and broad chest
hosting a sheen of sweat in the late spring sun. When he was an arm's length
away, she asked him, "Oil me up, Daddy?"  
  
"Of course, angel." He took the bottle from her hand and flipped open the top
to pour a small pool into his upturned palm. Handing it back to her, he rubbed
his hands together as she moved her long, black hair, shining blue in the sun,
to the front of her shoulder.  
  
"Be careful not to miss any spots, okay?"  
  
"Okay. I'll be very thorough." His groin tingled at the thought of caressing
this nubile form, the woman he loved, from head to toe. He eyed her form,
taking in every detail, realizing that for the first time he didn't need to be
coy about it. He no longer had to hide his desire. She wanted him to see her,
to touch her.  
  
Starting at her shoulders he lightly rubbed in the oil, creating a gloss along
her shoulders and upper back, even tucking his fingers under the string at her
neck. She moaned a little at his touch. "That feels good," she encouraged.
"Keep doing that." He continued to pour oil into his hand and caressed down
her back and sides before kneeling behind her to coat her legs, starting at
her feet and working upward. A knot formed in his stomach as he approached her
bikini bottom.  
  
Carly's pussy and ass involuntarily clenched at her father's touch, the tingle
in her core creating a warming glow. While the sun was warm enough on its own,
it was the flash of heat from her father's touch that forced the sweat from
her pores. She knew her bikini bottoms were getting damp at her father's touch
and wondered if he would know. She wanted so badly to touch herself as her
father was also touching her, but resisted the urge.  
  
Mark cupped his daughter's cheeks as he rubbed tanning oil into her ass and
thighs. Her bikini was immodest, the sides cut high, held together by side-tie
strings. The side of his finger grazed across her fabric-covered pussy when he
rubbed oil on her inner thigh, being sure not to miss any spots, just as she
had requested. Her body was emanating a moist heat from her center. His shorts
were uncomfortably tight from his arousal after oiling her entire body,
finishing at her upper chest.  
  
When she turned around so he could do her front, he noticed her nipples
pointing at him through her yellow top, tiny pebbles begging to be touched.
Her whole body was coated now and she offered to return the favor, pouring oil
into her hand. Mark couldn't move, and wouldn't if he could, when he felt his
daughter's small, soft hands rubbing oil on his shoulders and down his arms
before pouring more oil into them.  
  
Carly loved the feel of her father's strong chest under her hands. His heart
beat fast as her fingers glided lightly over his chest and down to his
stomach. His abs were tight and she could feel him flinch at her touch. She
knew he was hard, but dare not touch him there. Once on her knees to oil his
legs, her face was even with his groin and the image of her mother sucking him
jumped into her mind. After oiling his legs, she stood and turned him around,
oiling his back and shoulders before recapping the bottle.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered.  
  
"My pleasure." He leaned down and kissed her again, this time without
reservation. After breaking the kiss, he turned to walk away again, restarting
the mower as his daughter settled onto the towel-covered lounge chair. They
watched each other without shame, knowing now that the dance had begun.  
  
  
  
It had been two weeks since their first date and Mark was comfortably
flirtatious with Carly. As much as he had wanted to touch her more intimately,
they had agreed to let the relationship flow naturally and not to force it.
They touched and cuddled and kissed almost constantly, like new lovers, but he
let her take things at a pace she was comfortable with. They did masturbate
together under their clothes a few times since that first night, but it was
not a daily occurrence. Their individual, private masturbation, on the other
hand...  
  
Dinner was over, the romance movie Carly had chosen was playing on the Blu-Ray
player, and Mark was hard as a rock with his daughter's tongue dancing in his
mouth. She lay on top of him on the couch. He gripped her around her waist as
her hips rolled against his throbbing erection, pressed into her belly.  
  
Carly knew her father was trying to respect her wishes and boundaries and she
loved him for it, but she was becoming impatient. She wanted more. She knew it
would fall on her to take the lead. Pushing herself up off her father's chest
just far enough for him to see her face clearly, she smiled at him while
reaching behind her and grabbing his wrist. She looked into his eyes as she
pushed his hand down onto her ass and smiled before dropping back down to kiss
him. The feel of his strong hand squeezing and caressing her butt was new and
exciting.  
  
"Damn, your ass is fine, baby girl," he said between kisses.  
  
"Mmm, you like it?"  
  
"It's amazing. So round and firm." He continued to squeeze it.  
  
"It's all yours. Touch it however you want, Daddy," she whispered into his ear
before running her tongue along the rim. His dick twitched and he brought his
hands back up before tucking his fingers under her waistband, awaiting a
protest that would never come. "Ooh, under my clothes?" she giggled. "You want
to touch my bare ass?"  
  
"I've been watching you in that damned bikini long enough, watching your hips
sway. So, yeah, I want to touch your bare ass."  
  
She simply sighed and kissed him again as his hands traveled deeper beneath
her shorts.  
  
Her skin was soft and firm and even in this way, she reminded him of her
mother. He had always loved Amy's ass and made sure she knew it. Once she
realized how much he loved it, she gave him full access.  
  
His daughter groaned into his mouth as he pulled her downward, cupping her
globes and pulling her into him as they kissed. Her passion seemed to
intensify as he caressed her. His fingertips were in the crease where her
thighs met her ass, and she was surprised at the sensitivity of that area. She
was even more surprised when, during the first time he touched her here, his
fingertip stroked into her crack and down across her anus.  
  
"Oh, god," she breathed, pulling away.  
  
"You like that?" asked Mark, relieved at her response. She really was allowing
him access.  
  
She nodded with her eyes closed. "Very much. Wow." She dropped again and
kissed him as his finger traced a very gentle circle around it, her hips
rotating in time against his groin.  
  
"I want to see you, sweetie," he said, sitting up, causing her to straddle his
waist while he cupped her cheeks. Her shorts were pulled tight across her form
now, trapping his hands.  
  
"Let me take off your shirt, Daddy. I'll feel more comfortable if you start."  
  
She pulled up at the hem of his t-shirt while he worked his hands loose from
her shorts. Once she had his shirt off, she tossed it on the floor and ran her
hands over his chest and shoulders, no pretense of tanning oil this time, just
pure pleasure. He loved when she touched him like this, just as he had always
loved it when Amy did it.  
  
Carly wore a pink tank top and cotton cheer shorts. Mark ran his hands along
her ribs and back over her shirt, and realized he didn't feel a bra strap. He
had suspected because of her nipples being so erect, but this was the first
time they had begun undressing each other.  
  
"No bra tonight?" he asked. She bit her lip and looked at him nervously as she
shook her head. "Are you okay with me taking off your top?" She nodded and
smiled, still biting her lip.  
  
Butterflies again danced in her stomach, hoping that he would be pleased with
what he saw. She had always hoped her breasts would be bigger, but her father
had reassured her repeatedly that she was beautiful as she was. She also knew
that her mother had smaller breasts and her father had loved her deeply. She
placed her hands on his shoulders as he pushed her shirt up her sides,
watching her skin as it was exposed. He paused just under her breasts,
probably giving her another chance to chicken out, she thought.  
  
Mark was hesitant to move forward, but he was surprised when Carly grabbed the
hem of her shirt and quickly lifted it over her head, looking him in the eye
with a smile while she dropped it behind her. Her breasts looked just like
Amy's: round, smallish, pert and capped with small, dark nipples and areolae.  
  
"Oh, baby, you're so beautiful," he said. "More beautiful even than I
imagined." His hands caressed her thighs as he admired her.  
  
"Don't tell me I took off my shirt so you could touch my leg," she laughed.  
  
He smiled and reached for her, bringing a moan from her as he cupped her
breasts. Again, he felt her shift on his lap, rolling her hips so her pussy
ground against his manhood. She responded with moans and shudders as he
played, just enjoying the look and feel of her this way. She leaned forward
and kissed him passionately as he felt her up. Her nipples were like tiny
stones poking into his palm. Taking a chance, he pinched one nipple
moderately, causing her to yelp into his mouth, convulsing on his prick.  
  
Her father had just made her come from pinching her nipple. She couldn't
believe it.  
  
"Oh, my god, that was amazing," she cooed, her forehead on his shoulder.  
  
"Is that all you need?"  
  
"Not even close."  
  
"Tell me," he said. "Tell me what you want."  
  
"I want to get off this damned couch and into your bed," she said.  
  
He stood up, cupping her ass in his hands, feeling her breasts pressed against
him, the first bare breasts to touch him in ten years, and only the second
pair ever. She gasped when he stood, and wrapped her legs around him, helping
him secure her weight. She laughed as her nipples glided up and down his chest
with each step. She was aroused at the thought of his strength as he ascended
the stairs while he carried her, never once complaining, not even breathing
heavily.  
  
Once near the bed, she dropped her legs and stood before him, kissing him
passionately. She continued to kiss him as she turned them around so that his
back was to the bed. With a laugh, she shoved him onto the bed. He laughed as
she jumped on him, lying on top of him, rejoining their lips and tongues in a
duel. With one hand he grabbed her ass and with the other he reached for her
breast.  
  
She rolled off to the side a little and looked him in the eye with a smile. He
didn't see her hand, but felt her grab his cock through his shorts, squeezing
it firmly. He flinched, but not out of pain or fear, rather simple surprise.  
  
"You're so hard, Daddy," she whined. "Are you hard because of me?" she asked.  
  
"You know I am, angel."  
  
"Well, since you went under my shorts..." She moved her hand up swiftly, but
smoothly, and tucked it under his waistband, quickly finding him again in her
small, cool hand.  
  
"Damn, baby girl," he groaned. "Your touch is electric." He pinched her nipple
again as she lightly stroked him, her first cock.  
  
"Do you think we could..." She hesitated, biting her lip again.  
  
"What, honey? What do you want to do? Just ask."  
  
She took a deep breath. "Do you think we could... masturbate... each other?"  
  
Her father snickered, dropping his head back onto the bed as she continued to
stroke him. He looked back down at her, wrapping his arm around her back, and
pulled her onto him. "I would love to do that with you."  
  
She pulled her hand free and giggled, kneeling beside his hip. "Can I go
first, Daddy? I want to see you so bad."  
  
"Sure. I need to get some kind of lubricant first, though," he said, sitting
up.  
  
"I'll get some," she said. "What should I use?"  
  
"If you have some actual personal lubricant, like K-Y or Astroglide, that
would be best, but Vaseline, cooking oil, conditioner..."  
  
"Would you be disappointed if I said I had some K-Y?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow and smiled. "I won't even ask why you have it."  
  
She giggled again, running from his room, her breasts bouncing lightly. When
she returned a moment later, she was wearing just her shorts still. "Stop," he
said. She stopped, a confused look on her face. "I just want to look at you.
You're so... sexy."  
  
She blushed at his comment. No one had ever called her sexy before. Cute, yes.
Pretty, hot, beautiful... but never sexy. On the one hand it shouldn't have
been her father that called her that, but on the other hand, he was exactly
the one she wanted to hear it from. "Thank you," she smiled. She walked over
to him, enjoying his gaze as he sat on his bed scanning her body.  
  
"Where should I... uh...?"  
  
"Oh. Well you can lie down beside me and we can kiss while you do it, or you
can sit on my stomach or legs, or kneel between my feet. Whatever will be most
comfortable for you. I'm going to enjoy it either way," he smiled.  
  
"Scoot back and I'll kneel between your legs on the bed. I want to be able to
see what I'm doing. I want to be able to remember everything about our first
time doing this." He scooted back and propped against the pillows at the
headboard. He loved that she was topless, her nipples perpetually erect. She
pulled at the waistband of his shorts and underwear together. As she pulled
down, the tent got larger and he had to tell her to reach in and move it to
the side so it wouldn't point to far downward and hurt.  
  
She happily reached in and grasped it, pulling one side of his shorts down as
he pushed the other side and also lifted his hips a little to make it easier.
She beamed with excitement when she saw his erection. "Oh, wow," she breathed.
She looked at her father. "Mom was right. It's beautiful." Carly noticed the
bulbous purple head, the darker skin of the shaft, mapped with veins, and the
wrinkled sac hanging low between his legs. His balls were stirring, she could
see, moving slowly around and it made her giggle.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your balls... well, you're moving," she snickered, pointing at his sac.  
  
He reached down and lightly cupped himself, smiling at her as he felt them
roll. He moved his hand away. "What can I say? You do that to me." he smiled.
"Go ahead. Touch them."  
  
Tentatively she reached out and gently cupped them like she had seen him do.
Her eyes grew wide and she looked up at her father's face with a smile.
"That's so cool."  
  
"Carly?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"When you're touching me or... whatever we're doing... I want you to talk to
me."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Talk dirty or ask me questions. Use some slang."  
  
"You mean like," she used an innocent voice and made sad eyes at him, "Daddy,
do you like me touching your balls?"  
  
His dick twitched and he groaned. "Yes, baby girl. Like that."  
  
"Do you want me to make my hands all slippery so I can stroke your big, hard
cock?"  
  
"Damn, I think you're getting the hang of it," he moaned.  
  
She smiled and stroked him lightly with one hand while flipping open the cap
of the lube with the other. She poured a dollop of the clear gel in her hand,
closed the cap and rubbed her hands together for a moment as she looked her
father in the eye. She climbed over his leg, kneeling between his knees and
lightly held his erection in both hands, fist over fist. "Make sure you tell
me what you like," she said in her little girl voice again, "I've never done
this before, and I certainly didn't think my first cock would be soooooo big."
She giggled, bringing a groan from her father's chest.  
  
Carly was enjoying herself. The heated prick in her hand was a new and
exciting experience for her, but the look on her daddy's face and his raspy
breathing and occasional moan or grunt had her practically dripping in her
panties. He continued to direct her in how to move and the pressure to use,
encouraging her to experiment and to be bold. She eyed his face, his core, his
cock and balls, and even his thighs as his whole body seemed to randomly
flinch at her effort.  
  
She had applied a little more lube a couple of times as the gel became sticky,
but her father never objected to her exploration. "Fuck, baby, I'm coming," he
groaned. He had the presence of mind to tell her to "keep doing that and cup
my balls." She was on edge herself at the thought of bringing her father to
orgasm by her own hand. His hips thrust involuntarily and she found it best to
keep her hands still with a firm grip as he thrust up through her fingers.  
  
"FUUUCK!" he groaned as she felt him throb in her grasp, each time forcing a
jet of cream out the tiny hole in the head of his prick. The first jet was
small and didn't go high, but landed on her hand. The next two brought squeals
of excitement from her, flying high into the air and landing on his stomach
and groin. The next couple didn't go high, and the last couple simply trickled
out and ran down over her fingers and thumbs. He didn't say anything at first,
but placed his hand on hers when she tried to stroke him again. He laughed and
shook his head.  
  
"Wait... Too sensitive," he breathed. After a deep breath he looked at her
there, topless, nipples erect, hands and his shaft gleaming with oil and
covered in his cum. "That. Was. Amazing," he said.  
  
"Really?!" she asked, excited at his response.  
  
"You sure you've never done that before?" he asked with a smile.  
  
She smiled back, filled with pride.  
  
"Why don't you go get a washcloth and clean us up while I recover?"  
  
"Okay!"  
  
A few minutes later, Carly was wiping the last of her father's semen off his
stomach, humming joyfully.  
  
"Are you ready?" he asked with a smile. "I know I'm ready."  
  
"Soooo ready," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I hope you like my body."  
  
"I love your body, baby girl. I'm sure I'll love every square inch of you."  
  
She noticed that he was either starting to get hard again, or was just
naturally long as she lay back and he moved over her. She felt his cockhead on
her thigh as he kissed her, his hand cupping her breast. "Daddy, are you
getting excited again?"  
  
"I never stopped being excited. My old body just can't keep up with my heart.
So, how do you want this? Hands only?"  
  
"What?" she sat up on her elbows, a look of surprise on her face.  
  
"Relax," he snickered. "Just asking. I can just use my hands this time. I'll
control myself."  
  
She dropped back onto the bed and looked at the ceiling. "Oh, wow," she
breathed, the thought of her father's mouth on her. She had never felt that
and couldn't imagine what it would be like, but was looking forward to it. For
now, however, she just wanted to feel him touch her... there.  

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, caressing her stomach, feeling her taut
muscles flinch under his fingertips. Curling his fingers under her waistband,
he pulled downward. She lifted her hips up a little and he watched as the top
of her shorts and underwear rolled down, exposing a little more of her lower
belly. When he saw the first sign of her dark thatch of hair, he stopped.
"Carly."  
  
"Yeah?" her voice quaked. Was that nerves or excitement? She still didn't look
at him, but was looking at the chain on the ceiling fan, watching it swing
around and around in small circles.  
  
"Look at me, Carly." She took a deep breath and propped up on her elbows and
looked him in the eyes, worry carved into her face. He smiled slightly. "I
want you to see my face the first time I look at you. I want you to see how I
truly feel about it." She nodded, biting her bottom lip.  
  
He pulled further down, watching the triangle of hair narrow before finally
the deep purple of her vulva and labia appeared from behind the veil of her
white cotton panties. She seemed to relax, letting out her breath when she
noticed the look of pure adoration on her father's face. He never took his
eyes off her pussy when he pulled her shorts past her feet, the panties rolled
up inside them.  
  
His fingers brushed through her hair, tight curls wrapping around his fingers
while she sighed. "Absolutely beautiful," he said quietly.  
  
"Ooh, touch me, Daddy," she whined. "Teach me how to respond to your touch."
She dropped back and reached down to scratch at her own mound. Her father
stroked up and down her vulva. He needn't have worried about lubrication like
she had done for him. She had been dripping wet for a long time now. She
writhed and moaned, gasping at his touch. She couldn't believe how much better
if felt when someone else touched her.  
  
Mark loved to watch and hear her respond. She was slick and warm from her
arousal. Her bush was barely trimmed, but it was shaped so it wouldn't stick
out from her panties or bikinis. The dark patch highlighted her womanhood. She
was right; she wasn't a little girl anymore. He hadn't felt a woman's pubic
hair in ten years and he loved it. He also loved the scent that hit him when
he had rolled down her shorts: the scent of a woman's desire.  
  
Carly caught him smelling her. She saw him breathe in deeply, eyes closed, and
could only assume that's what he was doing. "Daddy, are you okay?" she asked.  
  
"You smell great, baby. Just enjoying it." They both smiled as he again
caressed her vulva before causing her to gasp by sliding his middle finger
between her lips.  
  
"Oh, yeah," she whined, dropping back to the pillow again. He found her
opening and slid back and forth across it, bringing more whines and soft
commentary. She jumped when he finally touched her clitoris, which was small
and barely visible, but was hard as a button. He continued to stroke inside
her lips, stroking back up to run over her clit, then back down again,
caressing the rim of her vagina. "Stop tea—, [GASP!]" He drove two fingers
smoothly into her, landing his thumb on her clit. She grabbed at the sheets as
she felt another person invade her for the first time.  
  
"How do you feel, angel?" he asked, knowing the answer already as he slowly
worked his fingers in and out. His thumb consistently rubbed back and forth on
her bean, slowly walking her to the edge.  
  
"So... good."  
  
"Say it, baby. Don't hold back." Still stroking.  
  
"Fucking amazing!" she squealed. "Oh, god!"  
  
He moved up beside her, his penis bobbing in front him, again erect. As he
continued to stroke her, he reached out with his other hand and pinched her
nipple. She burst into another string of obscenities, her eyes squeezed shut.
Leaning down close to her ear, he whispered, "You like having your daddy's
fingers in your pussy?"  
  
"Damn, oh fuck!" she yelped.  
  
"Stroking you, pinching your nipple, touching you inside. Doing what he can to
make his little girl come on his hand." She grunted, her hips flinching.
"That's it, baby. Come for me. Come on Daddy's hand." She was becoming more
aggressive in her movements now.  
  
"Talk to me, angel."  
  
She knew what he wanted. "Your fingers feel so good in my pussy, Daddy. Fuck
me with your fingers! Fuck your little girl's pussy with your fingers!" She
grabbed at the wrist where he pawed at her tit, and she squeezed it in a death
grip.  
  
"You've got me hard again," he groaned. She let go of his wrist and looked at
his prick hungrily as she grabbed it and began stroking it. It was
uncomfortable for him, her dry hand furiously stroking him with a death grip,
but fortunately she was moving the skin rather than creating friction on it.
She was close enough that he knew it wouldn't last long and he could endure
it. Just to make sure, however...  
  
Mark switched fingers quickly, thrusting into her with his index and middle
fingers while rubbing her clit with his thumb. She gasped when she felt his
pinky at her anus, but didn't have time to object, and didn't know that she
wanted to, when he pressed it into her.  
  
That did it. She wailed before her throat closed up. Her hips thrust off the
bed and Mark struggled to stay inside her. Both hands clasped at the bedspread
before one hand came and pulled on her nipple again. She twitched silently for
a few seconds before dropping onto the bed. Mark slid his fingers out and
sucked them clean without her seeing it.  
  
"So did you come?" he asked seriously. She just slapped his leg with a laugh,
causing him to laugh before leaning in to kiss her. He stood up and rewarmed
the washcloth before cleaning her up, bringing a series of sighs and coos.  
  
"Can I stay here tonight?" she asked. "I want to stay in bed with you."  
  
He nodded. "Of course. I want that, too." He pulled down the sheets on his
side of the bed and she rolled over that way. He pulled the sheets back up
over her before climbing in on his side and turning off the lamp, then curling
up behind her.  
  
  
  
Mark walked in from work Thursday evening to smell the grill. The glass door
was open, but the screen was closed. Carly was out on the patio turning over
some meat with the large grill tongs.  
  
She turned when she heard the door slide open. "Hi, Daddy," she said with a
smile, looking cute as ever in her jeans and gray fitted t-shirt. He leaned
down to kiss her and patted her rear, bringing a smile.  
  
"What's the occasion?" he asked, smelling the ribs as she basted them again
with the sponge.  
  
"I just thought you'd like a nice dinner and I'm in the mood for ribs."  
  
"Oh, okay."  
  
"Daddy, I'm worried."  
  
"About what, sweetie?" he asked, taking a sip of the beer he had pulled from
the outside refrigerator.  
  
"About missing class next week. I don't want to miss anything important."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
She turned to look at him, her face showing a sad expression. "I'm afraid I'll
miss something when Clemson flies us out next Thursday for the weekend. Plus I
don't know if MY barbecue is going to be as good as what we'll get in South
Carolina."  
  
"Clemson?!" he shouted, setting down his beer and picking Carly up before
spinning her in a circle in his arms. He set her back down and kissed her
lips. "I'm so proud, baby girl!"  
  
"Thank you, Daddy," she laughed. "Will it be a problem for you to get off
work?"  
  
"When has that ever been a problem? I may have to work a few long hours all
week to make up for it, but I'll be there." He couldn't stop smiling.  
  
  
  
Dinner was fantastic. Carly had gone all out with ribs, baked potatoes, cole
slaw, bread, and even made some brownies and topped them with ice cream. As
she was getting up to clear the table, Mark quickly stood and said, "Let me do
this. After all, you made dinner." She insisted on helping so they quickly
cleaned up the kitchen, continuing their dinner conversation of all Clemson
had to offer and whether it was something she should really consider. She
reminded him that this was still just the first call and invitation and there
were lots of other options.  
  
As he wiped down the table, she said, "Daddy, are you up for some playtime?"  
  
"I'm always up for playtime with you, angel."  
  
A few minutes later they were kissing and undressing in "their" room. She
hadn't slept in her own bed since last weekend and didn't see herself going
back. She lowered herself to her knees in front of her father and unbuckled
his belt, looking up at him as he gazed at her adoringly and ran his hand
through her hair. She unzipped his pants after unbuttoning them before pulling
them off his feet. His boxer briefs were right at eye level and Mark groaned
when she stroked her palm up and down his shaft.  
  
She pulled his underwear off and as she pulled them off his feet, she asked,
"Did you like your ribs tonight, Daddy?"  
  
"They were great, sweetheart."  
  
"I'm glad." She stroked his erection while she watched her hand glide across
it. "But that wasn't the meat I most wanted to taste tonight." She immediately
took him into her mouth, pumping him with her hand as she took the top half
into her moist heat, her tongue swirling around him.  
  
"Damn, baby girl!" grunted Mark.  
  
"Is it okay if I suck your cock, Daddy?" she asked innocently. "I've wanted to
do it for soooo long."  
  
"You can do it any time you want," he groaned. "God, your mouth feels good."  
  
"Can you teach me to suck you good?" She only stopped long enough to talk and
then continued.  
  
"I think I can do that."  
  
"Tell me what you like. I'll do whatever you want, Daddy."  
  
"I think I should sit down," he said. "Daddy's feeling a little lightheaded."  
  
She knee walked over to where he sat on the bed and took him right back into
her mouth. Mark told her what he liked, guided her to pay attention to his
balls, to be generous with her hands, and told her specifically what he
wanted.  
  
"Take off your panties, angel." She stood and peeled off her underwear before
kneeling before him again, eagerly accepting his rod into her mouth. "Now play
with yourself while you suck me. I want to see you come."  
  
She was more aroused than she thought she was. As she sucked and licked her
father, stroking him with one hand, she plunged two fingers into herself with
the other, bringing them up to circle her clit, building toward an orgasm.
Again and again she dipped her fingers into herself and stroked her bean. As
she built toward her release, she became more frantic in giving oral pleasure
to her daddy.  
  
Mark couldn't hold out long. She felt amazing. This was his first blowjob
since his wife died and it was his sexy daughter doing it. Her enthusiasm more
than made up for her lack of skill. She was an eager student and he knew she
would learn quickly, but by the feel of things right now, she was kind of a
natural.  
  
"You're making me come, Carly," he groaned. "I'm getting close."  
  
"How do you want it, Daddy?" she asked. "Whatever you want." He didn't answer.
He couldn't decide, honestly. He hadn't had time to plan. She decided for him,
her hands and mouth working over time. "Tell you what," she breathed. "I'll
swallow it; we can talk later."  
  
That did it. He blew his top straight into the roof of her mouth, forcing her
to close her mouth and begin swallowing immediately. She didn't even taste the
first three blasts because she was swallowing so fast to make room for the
rest. The rest settled on her tongue before she could swallow. It was unlike
anything she'd ever had. She wouldn't order it off a menu, but she loved the
thought of what she had done and she wanted to take her father's expression of
his pleasure, completely into her. She loved him deeply.  
  
As soon as the first rope launched into her mouth, her own climax crashed upon
her. All the thoughts of the day had her on edge and the knowledge that she
had her father's cock in her mouth, had brought him to orgasm and that she was
now swallowing his cum, forced her over the edge. She couldn't scream like she
wanted or she would choke for sure on the bursts flooding her mouth. She had
to concentrate, but she felt the flood on her fingers and the jolts of
electricity. She barely heard her father grunt, "Fuck! Come with me, angel!
Come for Daddy!"  
  
She collapsed onto her hip on the carpet and her father plopped back onto the
bed. "Oh, my god," she wheezed. "Daddy, we just came at the same time!"  
  
"Yeah, we did." He sat up and she looked at him, each smiling to the other.
"You were amazing. I can't believe you did that! I was not expecting that at
all."  
  
"I'm glad you liked it. It was fun," she giggled.  
  
"I hope you're not too tired, sweetie," he said, dropping to his knees on the
carpet, "because it's time to return the favor." Before she could object, his
face was in her pussy.  
  
"OH!" she squealed. "Are you hungry?" she whined.  
  
"Starved!" He was not gentle. He did not ease into eating her, but she loved
it. It wasn't what she expected. She thought he would be gentle and romantic,
but she loved his hunger. What was wrong with her? The only thing she could
figure is that she was already super horny, ready for action, and her daddy
went after it. She felt his lips pull at hers, felt him bury his tongue in her
and move it around to caress her from the inside. She felt his tongue dance
over her sensitive clit and her hand grasped his head, pulling him in by his
hair. It wasn't until he reached up and pinched her nipples that she again
exploded into another orgasm, howling into the air while her father's verbal
appreciation was muffled by her body.  
  
Mark crawled up to lie beside Carly on the soft carpet, pulling her into him.
She draped one arm and one leg over him, neither saying a word. Carly started
to get cool, so he recommended they get in bed. He helped her up into bed and
went through the house locking up for the night. When he returned to his room,
she was watching television, waiting for him. They spent the next hour
watching TV with his daughter resting on his chest as he stroked her back. He
turned off the television as he found it hard to hold his eyes open, Carly
already asleep. He was not far behind.  
  
  
  
Carly spotted him first. "There he is, Daddy!" she exclaimed, taking him by
the hand as each of them pulled a rolling suitcase. She pulled her father
toward the young man in a Clemson polo shirt and navy blue pants.  
  
"I'm Carly Ricks," she said, pointing to the sign in his hand that had "Ricks"
scrawled across it in black marker.  
  
"Hi. I'm Steve. Welcome to Greenville." He smiled warmly and shook both their
hands before taking Carly's suitcase and leading them to the parking garage.
During the walk he asked her about herself and asked Mark questions about
himself as well. He was amicable and warm. He had been recruited correctly and
coached well, Mark thought. As Steve popped the back latch on the minivan, he
reached in and handed them each a rolled up Clemson t-shirt. "These are for
you," he smiled before placing their suitcases in the back and closing the
door.  
  
That evening they had dinner with the recruiter, coach, and athletic director,
just to get to know each other and to discuss Clemson's program. They talked
scholarships, benefits, and everything they could possibly say to win Carly's
heart. And they paid plenty of attention to Mark as well, feeling that his
input and probably his checkbook were going to be the biggest hurdles to
getting Carly to commit.  
  
The weekend was a flurry of activity for the family of two. Mark was
overwhelmed, but excited. He had never offered enough to a college to be
courted the way Carly was. He beamed with pride at the way they fawned over
her, but inside his heart was breaking a little. Clemson was so far away. He
knew it would take extra effort to visit her regularly, but he was committed
to be there. His mind wandered to the day she would call him to talk about her
first date with someone she would inevitably meet here, or wherever she went.
There were literally thousands of solid choices of young men on a college
campus and he feared, maybe feared is the wrong word, that one day she would
realize the impracticality of their relationship or grow tired of him as he
quickly aged while she entered the prime of her life.  
  
"Isn't that right, Daddy?"  
  
"What?" he said. "I'm sorry. I'm just overwhelmed with this campus and got
distracted."  
  
"I said, this is a lot to think about and I'll have to talk with you about
it."  
  
"Oh. Yes. That's right. We'll need to talk more."  
  
"Honestly, I think Clemson would be a good fit," Steve said as they walked
back to the van. "The educational programming is top notch all the way around
and our reputation is very good. Wearing a Clemson ring can get you into just
about any door you want to enter." He smiled warmly.  
  
Steve dropped them at the hotel and Carly was amazed that first night. They
had booked a suite at a nice hotel, nicer than most she and her father would
ever stay in for a family vacation. She stood by the floor-to-ceiling window
and looked out over the sprawling town. "Isn't it beautiful, Daddy?"  
  
He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "It sure is, baby girl."  
  
"Do you think anyone can see us up here?"  
  
"I wouldn't think so. I don't even know why they would want to look for us."  
  
She walked over to the door, locked the indoor latch and flipped off the
lamps. "I'm just making sure." The only light coming in, now, was from the
outside. It was dim, but they could see each other clearly. She reached up and
kissed him, her hand resting on the back of his head.  
  
He nibbled down her jaw to her ear and neck, kissing her sensuously. "That
feels so good," she whispered. "I want to make the most of this weekend,
Daddy. This hotel is fabulous and it can be romantic if we make it."  
  
"I like the way you think," he said, unbuttoning her shirt and reaching in to
cup her breast while his other hand cupped her butt through her skirt. She
moaned at his touch and reached around to cup his ass through his dress pants.
He pulled her closer, releasing her breast. She felt his swollen rod against
her belly and it spurred her on.  
  
Pushing away from him, she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands up his chest
and shoulders, pushing his shirt off and down his arms. She leaned forward and
kissed his chest before licking one of his nipples and then the other one. He
had never had anyone do that before and was surprised at how good it felt. It
wasn't particularly arousing, but was instead erotic; mentally it was nice
even if the physical contact was little more than mildly pleasurable. Still,
the fact that she had thought to do that was sexy.  
  
He turned her around so she was facing the window and he was behind her,
pressing himself into her ass and reaching around to cup her tits. "Mmm,
squeeze my tits, Daddy. Play with my nipples. You know I like my nipples
played with." Who was he to argue? He untucked her shirt, but didn't remove
it. She was beautiful standing there, barely lit from the city lights, the
campus close by. Her red shirt hung loosely now, draped over her black skirt,
which came to mid-thigh. Her hair draped over one shoulder, leaving her neck
exposed to his kisses.  
  
While one hand pulled her bra cups down and alternately pinched and pulled
each nipple, bringing groans and gasps, his other hand traveled down to reach
inside her skirt, inside her panties and scratched at her thatch of hair
before descending to caress her lips. Her panties were soaked. She let out a
long slow groan as he caressed her and her hips rolled at his touch.  
  
Pulling his hand out quickly, surprising her, he traced his finger along her
lips. "Open." She opened her mouth and sucked her own juices from his fingers
with a moan. He grabbed her wrists and firmly placed her hands on the window,
palms flat. "Don't move," he growled. She nodded quickly, never even opening
her eyes. She felt his hands trace quickly down her spine, over her globes and
down the backs of her thighs.  

Mark dropped to his knees behind his daughter. Running his hands up her
thighs, he pushed her skirt all the way up over her hips to rest on her lower
back. She wore a small black bikini panty. He ripped it down her legs,
bringing a rush of breath from her, but she didn't move. She didn't dare move.
There it was: her perfect ass and pussy, the dark hair separated by moist gash
in the center. He could smell her again and his erection pulsed.  
  
Carly felt her father's tongue on the back of her upper thigh, and then on the
other one. Then he licked one cheek before repeating on the other. Placing
both hands on the globes of her ass, he separated them, forcing another gasp.
With his tongue wide, he dragged it up the inside of one thigh, then the
other, then right down the center, finally tasting and feeling the soft,
moist, musky flesh of his young lover.  
  
She wanted so badly to move. To pull away. To push herself back. To grab his
head. To rub her clit. To pinch her nipple. To... any number of things.
Keeping her hands on the glass of the window was pure torture. Her father's
tongue and head worked in circles. He would change the shape of his tongue,
curling it, pointing it, flattening it back out, varying his touch, the
pressure, where he licked her. She could never guess and it kept her on edge.
Closer and closer she came to her release. Her hips moved on their own, but he
tightened his grip without a word, holding her in place, making it clear that
she was not to move.  
  
He surprised her, bringing a flood of heat to her belly, a charge through her
when his thumb circled her clit while his tongue suddenly moved up to circle
her anus. "OH!" she gasped. "Oh, my god, that feels oooohhhmmmm."  
  
"You like that?" he asked before resuming his task.  
  
"Yes," she nodded frantically.  
  
"Say it."  
  
"I love it."  
  
"Tell me what you love." In between each sentence he returned.  
  
"I love you licking my a-AASSSS!" She exploded at the sound of her own
confession, her hips thrusting at nothing. She involuntarily stepped forward,
but he chased her with his tongue until the front of her body was pressed up
against the glass, her nipples against the cold, her face pressed between two
steamy hand prints since her hands had quickly grabbed her own ass to hold
herself open for her father.  
  
He backed away when she stopped convulsing, but she turned and dropped onto
him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. He was overwhelmed, but didn't mind
one bit. Her hands wrestled with his belt and button before she finally worked
his pants free, rapidly unzipping him. Without ceremony she fished his cock
out of his boxer briefs and jammed her mouth down onto it.  
  
"Damn!" he grunted. She pulled his pants and underwear down and he worked to
push his shoes off with the toes of the other foot, but was having little
success. "Shit," he laughed. "I can't get my shoes off."  
  
"It's always something," she complained, hurriedly yanking his shoes off.
While he worked to push his pants down, she removed her shirt and bra before
standing to shove down her skirt and panties. She stood over him naked and
impatient as he peeled the second sock off, quickly tossing it across the
room. She straddled his head, facing his feet and said, "Let's try something
new," as she lowered herself.  
  
As soon as her knees hit the carpet, he was bumping the back of her throat
while shoving his face into her cunt. She moaned around him and drooled both
down his cock and into his mouth. He wasn't going to last long. "Here it
comes, Carly." He could barely get the words out his stomach was so tense.  
  
"Do it," she urged, stroking him with her hand. "Come for me." Her mouth was
once again on him, her head bobbing furiously. She was about to come herself
with her father's tongue buried in her. She let loose on his tongue, gripping
his shaft tight. Her breasts were trapped against her father's toned stomach
and he had his face buried in her twat while she sucked his cock, waiting for
him to blast into her mouth. She couldn't have stopped her orgasm if she had
tried. "SHHHHMMMmmm!" she wailed, cutting off her cry by jamming the prick
back into her mouth. She came down right about the time she felt the first
pulse.  
  
Lifting her head away quickly, she stroked him as he had taught her. The first
shot hit her right in the cheek. She was surprised, but not repulsed. She
aimed his blasts at her closed mouth and other cheek, feeling his blasts
splatter on her cheeks, nose, and mouth before running back down over her
hand. She had wanted this after hearing about her mother's request to be
covered in his spunk. She smiled and sat up. She turned around and stayed
seated on her dad's stomach, her pussy dribbling on his bare skin.  
  
"How do I look, Daddy?"  
  
"Beautiful, baby girl."  
  
"Do I look sexy?"  
  
"So sexy."  
  
"Like Momma?"  
  
He paused and smiled, nodding. "Spitting image."  
  
"Thank you, Daddy."  
  
"No. Thank you, sweetie. I enjoyed that."  
  
"Me, too." She stood up. "Come on, get up." She offered her hand. As she
helped him up, she said, "Let's go take a shower. The night's not over yet."
He raised an eyebrow, but she simply shook her head with a smile.  
  
The shower was uneventful. Of course they groped each other and lathered each
other up before rinsing off. Their hands roamed freely and they kissed,
enjoying the slick, wet nakedness before getting out and toweling each other
dry.  
  
"Do we have any wine, Daddy?" Carly asked.  
  
"There's probably some in the bar."  
  
"Would you check for me? I could go for something to relax me a little. You
know, add a little romance?"  
  
Mark turned away to search for something to drink and pulled a bottle of wine
and two glasses from the cabinet. After pouring them each a glass, he looked
up to see Carly standing by the window again, still nude after their shower.
She was silhouetted against the cityscape, but was lit dimly from behind by
the soft light over the bar, the one he had turned on to search for the wine.
He stood silently, admiring her form: the tone of her legs, curve of her hips,
the way her narrow waist widened at her ribs. Her hair was wet and hung
loosely over her shoulders. He could see the faintest hint of her crack as it
split her ass in the dim light. He shook his head in disbelief at her maturity
and sexiness, damning the voice that reminded him that she was his daughter
and that he shouldn't be doing these things with her.  
  
She heard him pad softly behind her before a strong hand with a wine glass
floated from her side to hover just in front of her. She smiled as she took
the glass. "Thank you," she said quietly. He simply slid his arm around her
waist and took his place behind her again, his soft penis resting against the
top of her crack.  
  
They stood silently for a few minutes, looking out the window and sipping
their wine. "I want you to make love to me tonight," she said.  
  
"Are you sure, baby?" he asked, not uncertain, but simply making sure.  
  
She turned to face him, her nipples against him. With a reassuring smirk, she
nodded. "Positive. I can't think of a better time. Look at this place," she
said, looking around the room. "We're in a beautiful room with a beautiful
view, a new place, and our relationship has grown so much. I want this... I
want you."  
  
"I want to make love to you more than anything, sweetie," he said, brushing a
strand of hair back behind her ear, "But I want to make sure you're ready. You
can't lose your virginity a second time." She nodded, still smiling. "And you
can't un-fuck your father," he smiled. She giggled at that and planted a quick
kiss on his lips.  
  
"Oh, Daddy, I would never un-fuck you!" she snickered, bringing a deep laugh
from him.  
  
"Well that's good to hear. I would never un-fuck you, either, angel."  
  
"It feels like someone is getting ready for the main event," she giggled,
reaching down to caress his growing erection.  
  
"I've been ready for this for a long time."  
  
"Then what are we waiting for?" She held onto his prick like a leash, walking
over to the bed and setting her wine down on the nightstand, her father
obviously following close behind.  
  
"Shit!" he blurted out.  
  
"What?!" she panicked, hoping he wasn't backing out.  
  
"I don't have any condoms!"  
  
She was relieved. "Don't worry," Carly said quietly. "I don't want a condom on
you. I don't want anything to separate us tonight."  
  
"I can't get you pregnant, Carly," he shook his head. "That would change
everything."  
  
"I don't want you to get me pregnant. I just want to feel your skin on mine
without anything in the way. You can pull out and come anywhere you want.
Maybe when you see your big, hard cock sliding in and out of my young, tight,
wet pussy, you'll think of a good place to shoot your load." She looked up at
the ceiling with her finger on her chin. "Let's see... you could come in my
mouth or... on my face or... on my tits... on my ass... or on my mound and
stomach."  
  
"Dammit, Carly, you're not making it any easier for me to control myself."  
  
"Who says I want you to control yourself?" She stepped into him for a kiss and
while their tongues intertwined and their bodies responded, she took his glass
from him. She stepped away, holding his hand, and turned to set the glass on
the nightstand. Sitting on the bed, she took both his hands, kissed the palms,
then placed them on her head. She leaned forward and cupped his sac while she
slowly lowered her mouth onto him. She took as much as she could, but not
enough to make her gag. She wanted to be sensual, not dirty; romantic, not
coarse. She didn't want to fuck her father. She wanted to make love to him.  
  
Mark felt the cool dampness of Carly's hair and caressed her scalp as she
brought him pleasure with her hands and mouth. She had moved one hand to his
hip while her other gently stroked and scratched at his balls. Like he always
thought, she was a fast learner. She knew his sensitive spots and had paid
attention to what he liked. She was a fabulous lover.  
  
He pulled her head away. "Lie back, baby. Let me take care of you." She smiled
and lay back. Mark kissed his way up her legs from the arches of her feet,
bringing a series of moans and gasps, to the inner thighs before tracing her
triangle of hair with his tongue. She moaned and giggled, bringing a smile to
his face when she looked down her body at him. She smiled down at him.  
  
"You look so good, Daddy. I don't think I've ever told you how sexy I think
you are."  
  
"Not in words," he said, taking a brief break from licking, but still
caressing her thighs, "But you've made it clear enough." He went back to work
on her, gently licking her and watching her begin to respond more
passionately.  
  
"If you keep that up I'm going to come before you're in me," she whined.  
  
"That's okay. It'll make you more ready for me, and I want to feel you come on
my cock while I'm in you." She groaned at the thought and her stomach
twitched. While he circled her clit with his tongue, he pressed two fingers
into her, sliding them in and out steadily. He could tell she was quickly
approaching orgasm as her breathing increased and her voice became raspy.  
  
"Oh, god, Daddy, your fingers feel so good. I'm coming," she whined. He felt
her clench around his fingers rhythmically and more juices seeped out of her.
"Oh, wow," she sighed, her hands flopping down at her sides.  
  
Mark stood between her knees where he had been kneeling on the carpet. He
reached over her head and began folding down the bedspread. Carly sat up with
a smile and crawled onto the fresh sheets, shaking her rear at her father,
winking at him over her shoulder.  
  
"I may just force my way in from behind if you don't watch yourself," he
smiled.  
  
"Later," she answered with a smirk as she dropped onto her hip. "For now, come
make love to me like this." She held her arms out to him and lay back on the
pillow. He knelt down between her knees and leaned over to kiss her. He gave
each nipple a playful suck before hovering over her and looking into her eyes.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
"Split me with your big cock," she breathed with a gentle smile.  
  
Holding his shaft, her rubbed the swollen purple head against her slick lips,
bringing moans from both of them. He kissed her gently, grazing her lips with
his tongue until she opened and returned his kiss while he pressed forward
into her. He could feel her walls hug him almost as if they were politely
moving aside as he slid into her.  
  
It wasn't painful like she thought it would be. He gently continued pressing
into her until his balls rested against her ass. He was deep into her, but not
stretching her uncomfortably. "What do you know?" she sighed. "It's a perfect
fit."  
  
"I love you, baby girl."  
  
"I love you, too, Daddy. Very much." She rested her hands on the back of his
neck and with one hand she caressed the hair at the base of his skull.  
  
He felt so connected to her at that moment, so in love. He withdrew most of
the way, drawing a contented sigh from Carly. When she opened her eyes, he was
looking into her soul with such love. Her smile was gentle and sincere. He
moved gently in her and after a few moments he felt her legs wrap around him,
her heels on the underside of his ass, pulling him into her.  
  
Neither said a word for the longest time. They didn't need to. They were
connected in body and soul and their breathing and the sounds of their mutual
pleasure were all they needed to hear.  
  
Her breathing picked up and she brought a hand down to move herself along. The
constant stimulation inside, her father's swollen head moving back and forth
inside her, was only amplified by her fingers on her clit. When her hips
rolled, she felt the turgid probe touching her differently, grazing along
different places in her most intimate space.  
  
"Come for me, Carly. I don't know how long I can hold on. You're so sexy, so
tight and wet, gripping me..."  
  
She cried out at her release, her first orgasm around a living, pulsing man.  
  
"That's it, baby! Here it comes."  
  
"Come on me, Daddy! Cover me!" Carly continued to abuse her clit as her father
withdrew quickly and fisted himself right above her mound. Blast after blast
of the pearly cream spattered her almost olive skin. From her cheek, down over
one nipple, to a few streaks across her neck, cleavage and stomach, and
several drops pooled on her deep raven triangle, split by her swollen lips.  
  
Mark dropped onto his heels, his hand on her knee and he looked at his
beautiful, cum streaked daughter. She had a look of serenity and elation.
Running her finger through a streak on her stomach, she scooped up some of his
cum and sucked it off her finger. He laughed and shook his head.  
  
After cleaning up with a warm washcloth, they spooned together that night. The
next morning Carly woke him early with a blowjob until he was throbbing hard,
at which point she declared that she wanted to ride on top this time.  
  
  
  
Carly didn't go to Clemson. She chose a school that was only a couple of hours
from home, but offered a full scholarship and had the degree in sports
medicine and physical therapy that she decided she wanted. She wanted the
freedom to come home whenever she could and to make it easier for her father
to visit her on campus and to attend her home meets.  
  
  
  
"You never could tie these things straight, could you, Daddy?" she laughed as
she straightened his bow tie.  
  
"I hate these things."  
  
"But you look so handsome," she said.  
  
"And you're more beautiful than ever," he sighed. He cleared his throat and
led her to a small chair by the wall. Kneeling down in front of her, he took
her hand. "Are you sure about this?"  
  
"I sometimes wonder... but ultimately I know this is what I want."  
  
"Marriage is permanent and our relationship is... complicated."  
  
"Was... complicated," she corrected.  
  
"Was. You're right."  
  
"Do you remember what you told me that first morning I came into your room and
this whole thing started? You told me that even though I would grow up to be a
woman, you would always be my daddy."  
  
His eyes filled with tears. "Always."  
  
"Then you know me well enough to know that I don't just jump into things like
this. Love is funny and you know as well as I do that it can hit you
blindside. I'm in love, Daddy, and I can't think of anyone else I would rather
spend my life with."  
  
He smiled at her and she wiped away the tear on his cheek with her thumb. "I'm
so proud, Carly. You're going to be an amazing wife."  
  
"Just like Momma?"  
  
He nodded. "Just like Momma."  
  
There was a knock on the door. "Mr. Ricks, we're ready for you."  
  
He stood up. "Yeah, okay. I'm coming."  
  
He helped Carly up and kissed her on the cheek, straightening her veil before
snickering and pulling his handkerchief out, handing it to her. "You're going
to need this, and I already have a spare," he said as he patted his jacket
pocket. She laughed and blotted at her red eyes.  
  
"Thank you, Daddy." She kissed him chastely on the cheek before he turned to
walk out the door.  
  
  
  
Ten minutes later Carly was on her father's arm, he in his black tuxedo and
she in a conservative traditional wedding gown. The doors opened and three
hundred people stood and turned as the string quartet began to play. A series
of gasps and "aww's" accompanied their slow march down the aisle where Mason
beamed as he watched his fiancée float toward him on the arm of her adoring
father.  
  
Mark liked Mason. He had watched the love grow from the first time he met him
Carly's junior year. Carly had talked with her father about meeting him,
worried that he would be crushed. And he was, at first, but Carly had helped
him learn to love again in a way that helped him realize he wasn't
disrespecting Amy's memory to open his heart again. As his romantic
relationship with Carly drew to a close after two and a half years, he found
himself rooting for her in love, and found himself longing for it himself. Not
in a way that would compete with Carly or replace her, but in a way that he
could truly invest in.  
  
So he liked Mason. Mason is short, not much taller than Carly, but handsome,
is kind to her, passionate, romantic, and gentle. He'd heard them in an
argument on more than one occasion and learned that even when he was upset, he
was respectful to her, quick to apologize, and gracious with her. And Carly
had assured him that Mason was a generous and patient lover. And Mason treated
Mark with respect and dignity. When Mark finally met Mason's parents, he
realized why: they were the same way, and their love was obviously strong and
tempered, something he had always wanted for Carly, something he had had with
her mother.  
  
As the music played, Carly thought back over the last five years, from that
first day of the state championship, the day her relationship with her father
changed forever. She remembered the pain of her confession and the relief of
his. She remembered his touches, his words, the gentleness of his direction,
and the respect for her sexuality and ignorance. She thought back to Clemson
and their first time making love. A tear escaped and she quickly blotted it
away. Everyone said that this was her special day, but she had already had
some of those with the man walking by her side.  
  
She knew Mason had no idea of her relationship with her father and that was
okay with her, and with her daddy. They had talked about it. It would bind
them together forever, but everyone else would be kept on the outside.  
  
As they passed the front row of chairs, she stopped and bent down to kiss
Stephanie on the cheek. Last year, Mark met Stephanie, a gorgeous redhead with
ivory skin and kind eyes that glimmered emerald. Carly was at first jealous,
but realized two things: she had met Mason first and changed the relationship
with her father, and she had taught her daddy to love again. Stephanie had
formed a bond with Carly and they had had many, many late-night talks and
girls' nights. She spoke of Momma with respect and loved to hear stories of
her antics. And Stephanie loved her daddy.  

Carly stood again and Stephanie was slow to release her hand, but quietly did
so as her other hand dabbed a tear from her ivory cheek. The bride and her
father took the final few steps to the altar, where Mark handed over his
daughter, the love of his life, to her future husband. Mark was surprised, but
shouldn't have been, when Mason hugged him with tears in his eyes before
reaching for Carly. As Mark returned his hug, Mason whispered, "Thank you for
trusting me to care for Carly. I love you both." He backed away and wiped a
tear from his eye, along with about 200 other people in the room, including
Mark himself, before Carly reached up and kissed her father on the cheek.  
  
Mark took his seat next to Stephanie, who placed her hand on his and patted
his shoulder. "You're a good man," she whispered, "And you've raised an
amazing young lady. Mason's a lucky man." Mark simply nodded, his eyes hot
with tears.  
  
  
  
After a beautiful ceremony, Mark and Stephanie drove to the reception. Mark
was quiet and Stephanie let him be. She just held his hand on the drive over.  
  
Mark was fine for the reception. Carly spoke with her friends and Mark laughed
like everyone else during the best man's toast and the maid of honor's toast.
He smiled at Mason's toast to his bride and his parents.  
  
And then Carly stood and took the microphone. She looked at Mark, both of them
holding champagne flutes. It took her a moment to speak. She turned to Mason,
"I never thought I would find someone like you, Mason: someone who would love
me unconditionally, who would adopt my dreams as his own, and care for my
needs at the expense of his own. I've only known one other man to love me like
that," she said as she turned to look at he father in the corner, tears in her
eyes. Her voice cracked as she spoke and the tears rolled freely. No one said
a word.  
  
"Daddy, I've watched you push your own life to the side to strengthen mine. I
don't know what opportunities you've sidestepped so that I could have so many.
You've taught me everything I know about life and love and sacrifice. You have
fought hard to protect me since the day I was born. I know that you have
always said that you didn't know if you could be a single parent after Momma
died, but I want to tell you now that you were wrong. Dead wrong. You were...
are... an amazing Daddy." Mark began to weep openly at her tribute.  
  
"I love Mason, Daddy, because of you. He is the kind of man that you have
always been to me." She looked at Stephanie. "Stephanie, take good care of
that man right there," she said, pointing her champagne flute at her father.
"He doesn't open his heart for just anyone, so the fact that he fell in love
with you says a lot about the kind of person you are. I love you because he
loves you. I'm not saying I love you because he told me to or because he
married you. I'm saying I love you because I trust his judgment and after
getting to know you for a year, I can say that his heart is dead on. So you
take care of my Daddy." Her face turned to a scowl. "If you don't, I'll come
back and kick your ass." She winked and smiled, the whole room laughing.  
  
"I love you, Daddy." The room burst into applause as he mouthed back, "I love
you, too," and blew her a kiss through his tears. Stephanie squeezed his hand
and kissed his cheek. The DJ started Carly's choice for the father-daughter
dance, and Carly came around the table to meet Mark in the center of the dance
floor. As Sinatra crooned and the crowd watched and milled around the edge,
Mark and Carly danced and they had their own private talk.  
  
"Carly," he asked quietly, "Do you ever think about... us?"  
  
"All the time."  
  
"Do you regret what we did?"  
  
She looked right into his eyes. "Not at all." Her look turned to worry. "Do
you?"  
  
He smiled. "No. I miss it, but I don't regret it."  
  
She smiled again. "I miss it, too."  
  
"Mason's a good man," he said.  
  
"The second best man I know."  
  
"May I cut in?" Mark heard, accompanied by a tap on his shoulder. The Sinatra
song was transitioning out to a more modern love song. He turned to see Mason
smiling at him.  
  
"I guess." Mark let go of Carly and took Mason's hand in his, placing his
other hand on Mason's shoulder. "But I don't usually dance with other men."  
  
"Daddy!" Carly laughed, bringing a smile from Mason.  
  
"Oh! Sorry." He let go and backed away as Carly smiled at him while Mason took
his place.  
  
Mark turned around to see Stephanie close behind him. She smiled and stepped
close, wrapping her arm around his shoulder as he took her hand. He loved the
feel of her, and he loved her deeply.  
  
"She's a beautiful bride," she said. "And she's right about you, you know."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"You're an amazing man. And I plan on taking very good care of you. I would
hate for her to kick my ass." She winked as he smiled. She looked over at
Carly and got a smile back as Carly watched them dance before turning her
attention back to her handsome young groom.  
  
"She was right about you, too."  
  
"Thank you for saying that. She's going to be a good wife," Stephanie said,
looking Mark in the eyes. "Just like her mother."  
  
Mark looked over at Carly, who was stroking her husband's cheek as she looked
at him lovingly. Mark's eyes teared up again as he nodded.  
  
"Spitting image."




End file.

