Good Advice

Then my eyes fell on a picture of the three of us. Dad, me and... Mom.

I hadn't closed my bathroom door, but I hadn't heard the front door open over the sound of the shower. I had never cultivated any habit of taking any of my fresh clothes into the bathroom, and wrapping a towel loosely around myself, I stepped out.

I glanced at the mirror, absently evaluating my chances of being desirable to Dad. Brown, curly hair that reached down to my nipples, brown eyes, small but sharp nose, thin lips, long neck, firm breasts that had been acknowledged as gravity-defying, pink nipples, firm stomach... Just the typical American teenage girl. Dad was around six feet tall, but I was just half a head taller than Mom's 5'3" frame.

Bending over, I threw my wet hair over my head and untied the towel. I had just started rubbing my hair when I heard my father's exclamation.

"Oops! Sorry, Kell!"

Looking up, I saw Dad staring at me for a split second before turning away, and I realized with a start that I was stark naked. Hurriedly, I wrapped the towel around my body, cursing myself for having chosen the shortest one I had. I dared pull it up only as high as my nipples - half of the areolas were no longer a hidden vision. To pull it up any higher would only expose my pussy.

"I should have knocked," Dad began to apologise.

"It's alright, Dad," I said, placing an arm so as to cover the rest of my breasts. If Dad hadn't turned around, I might have been bold enough to let him see as much as he could - hell, I might not even have bothered with the towel! "You can turn around now. In case you haven't noticed, I hadn't closed the door. You couldn't have knocked."

Dad turned around slowly, and it was a mixture of relief and disappointment that I saw on his face. He held a package in his hand, gift-wrapped, which he handed over to me.

"What is it?" I asked as I took it from him with one hand, not daring to risk the towel slipping off. "Anything special?" Something had to be special - Dad wouldn't have been home this early if it wasn't.

"I saw the doctor today," Dad offered by way of explanation. If he was looking for a reaction from me, I disappointed him - forcing him to continue. "He told me you have agreed..."

I nodded. I wanted him to take the initiative.

"I - I stopped at Lacy's on the way home," he said, changing the subject. Lacy was the local lingerie statement - a set from Lacy's would have me broke for a month. "Thought I would pick up something for you." Abruptly, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me half-naked and puzzled. Why Lacy's?

I shut the door after him, then placed the box on the bed. A part of me wanted to bawl myself out for having let an opportunity go begging, but I figured just as immediately that we would have to develop everything slowly, in front of Mom. My focus shifted back to the elegantly-packed gift on my bed.

Inside were a couple of complete lingerie sets - thongs, bras, slip... One was jet blacy, but it was only when I picked it up that I realized that it stretched at the slightest pull to turn translucent. The bra cups were little more than silk threads woven to hold the straps together. I expected the second set, of a full shade of body pink, to be of the same type, but boy, was I mistaken! The bra was a quarter the size of the usual cups, and the panties - thin to the point of being nonexistent.

I laid out the wisps - for they were indeed little more than that - of clothing on my bed. First glance told me they would be a tight fit, and when I tried to slip on the black bra, I realized that the female intuition is infallible. I reached around for the strap and clamped it with some difficulty - in the process, a nipple had slid out of the confines of the bra and peeked obscenely.

I slid on the bottoms, and studied my appearance. Okay, so the naughty nipple still threatened to poke out of the cup, but at least I had managed to get him back in. The back of the thong, as all thongs do, vanished into the crack of my ass, with the front V tapering so much that I could feel the air on my lips. I still didn't know, though, why Dad had gone to the expense and trouble of getting me these undies.

I reached into my wardrobe for something to wear when a naughty thought struck me. Still clad in the lingerie, with nothing over or under it, I decided that it would be the proper attire when asking Dad the why of his buying me these.

Dad's mouth gaped open when he saw me stroll into the kitchen, almost nude. I am sure he would never have thought that I would have modeled them for him so soon, which was why he was motionless until I stepped away after planting a kiss on his cheeks, my breasts lightly brushing against his arm.

"So what's the occasion, Pops?"

His eyes travelled the length of my body, dwelling partcularly on the dark shades of my nipples and my unshaved bush. Rather than distract him, I let him see his share of my body. I decided the next word would be his.

Dad knew the instant he met my gaze that I had caught him looking, and he immediately averted his eyes. I had almost made up my mind to say something when he asked, "Are you sure about this, honey?"

"As much as I can be," I relaxed. "It's all to get Mom back."

"Yes," he repeated, "It's to get Mom back, but have you realized we may have to go all the way?"

"Dad, Megan told me that it took them a baby..."

"And still, you agreed?"

"Like she said, that was one case. Maybe we wouldn't have to go beyond heavy petting and kissing before Mom flares up."

"But if we do?"

"I am willing to do whatever it takes, Papa, and I am sure I will never regret it."

"If you are so sure..."

"I am so sure."

"That's a load off my chest," Dad sighed.

"What about you? Any misgivings?" I asked.

"Just the fact that you happen to be my daughter. Anybody else, and ..." he left the rest to imagination.

"So what's with all this lingerie and stuff?"

Dad smiled sheepishly at me. "Part of the deception. I haven't bought your Mom something this daring in the last three-four years - too tempting! Maybe she will get jealous or something. Besides, a young thing like you should also dress sexy. Very sexy."

"So you like it?"

"Even better on you."

That brought some flush to my cheeks. "Speaking of it 'on me,' how did you get the size almost correct?"

"What do you mean by almost?" Dad roared in mock-indignation. "It's a perfect fit. You just better not try any exercising with those on, that's all!" Then he grinned sheepishly. "You won't believe the trouble I had just picking the right size. When I gestured your size to the saleswoman, she rattled off a range of sizes... It was a lucky guess, but I almost blurted out that I didn't know the cup-size of my own daughter."

"Gee! I wonder what they would have thought of a father who knew his daughter's size..."

"Good God! I never thought of it that way! Anyway, all's well that ends well."

"Not quite. These things are still a mite too small."

Dad looked at my wear, then smiled. "We could exchange them tomorrow, if you want," he offered, "I can also show them that my girlfriend is worth every cent I throw her way."

"That's a compliment," I quipped, "I think. What's your plan, Dad?"

"I was thinking of renting a movie. Dinner, then sleep. Got an early day tomorrow. Your Mom's coming on the five am flight. What about you?"

"Absolutely clueless. No date, nothing. Say, why don't we go over our 'affair'?"

"Good idea. It's already dark, so why don't I get the dinner ready?"

"Let me help - "

"Not in that costume you are not, unless you want some burnt potatoes and toast. It's too much of a distraction. Now, off you go."

As I walked out of the room with an exaggerated catwalk, Daddy made as if to slap me on my ass. I swerved, but his hands still brushed across the bare skin - it was exciting to know that there was something improper in the gesture. Giggling, I ran up the stairs to my room.

Dinner that night was a very pleasant affair, perhaps more so because of the fact that each of us were considering the occasion as an opportunity to see each other as a date. We were hardly in appropriate attire, though, with me just having thrown a loose shirt over a set of old panties, and Daddy had traded in his pants and shirt for an open-necked t-shirt and shorts. Dad and I joked and kidded each other throughout the meal, but neither of us spoke anything about Mom or our future. That was to be the dessert.

I was constantly aware of Dad's eyes on me as I stretched my hands so as to keep all the utensils - like I mentioned, I am not as tall as Dad - in their shelves. Eventually, he stood beside me and, holding me gently around the waist, gave me that extra lift. Together, we had the dishes put away in no time.

"Tell me something, Dad," I asked, turning around so that I was facing him. "What was your reaction when the doctor told you we could do this?"

"Quite frankly," Dad replied, "My first reaction was to throw the guy out of the window. Then he told me you had already agreed. That knocked me for a loop. I guess, though, once I knew you were okay with it, it wasn't sounding too bad anymore..."

"That's why you bought me all the lingerie ... but didn't even ask me, confirm whether I had actually agreed or not?" I pointed out.

"I jumped the gun there. You can't blame me, it ain't everyday that I find out my daughter wouldn't mind making love with me!"

"Honestly," I continued, "Was I just as ... attractive - before the doc pointed it out to you that we could be an ... item?"

Now Dad averted his eyes. "I don't think I can answer that question, sweetie. It might make you think bad of me..."

I placed a soft kiss on his lips. Instinctively, his arms cupped my ass-cheeks. Even though the kiss lasted only a second, I lingered on his touch, our lips so close his breath was tickling me. "If the answer is yes," I told him, "I wouldn't mind."

Dad cleared his throat. "I don't think every father feels this, but then again, not every father has a wonderful daughter like you. I've always found you attractive, sweetie, and your beautiful nature - and face and body - are something anyone might find a little too challenging to resist. There was a time when I even fantasised about sneaking into your room at night and watching you sleep naked... Are you sure you don't mind?"

Wow! This was a side of my father I had never known, never even suspected. I squeezed his elbow to reassure him. "The fact that you did nothing then... you are a good man, Pop. Did you stop, or do you still...?"

"It took a lot, but I was able to resist the temptation before I did anything wrong. You never used to sleep naked, but it was still a treat to watch your form on the bed. There were times when I wanted to kill myself lest I hurt the child I loved dearer than life."

I realized this was taking a lot out of Dad, but perhaps - no, definitely - he would feel better once we held nothing back. It was not just a little exciting to hear him admit that he fantasised me, and I regretted the fact that I hadn't worn a bra. All Dad had to do was touch my nipples and he would find them rock-hard. In spite of myself, I wanted to kiss this man deeply, assuring him every second that I could never think bad of him.

Not after what I knew.

"It's not that bad," I consoled him, "There are dads who go around raping their girls for half as much feeling. I don't just love you, Dad, I respect you. Even more now."

We embraced silently, my head on his shoulder, and we stood like that for almost a full minute. "That means a lot to me," Dad admitted as we pulled away. We held hands like lovers reluctant to part, before finally releasing each other. Dad smiled at me, and returned the favor. "What about you, sweetie? You ever think of me as a - um, hunk?"

I looked into his eyes, brown like mine, and smiled. "Ever since I was born," I said, "Not a hunk, Daddy, but something more." I searched for the appropriate word. "A person. Someone I would want to spend the rest of my life with. You are that kind of guy, Daddy, I would have married if you weren't my father."

"It always boils down to that, doesn't it, baby?" Daddy asked ruefully, drawing me closer towards him. "I will always be your father, and you will always be my daughter. Anything else..." His voice trailed away.

We hugged silently, my breasts quashed against his chest. I could sense an erection on him, but it was something that was now acceptable - at least, to me. In fact, it added to my feminine ego - Dad liked me enough to consider me as a grown woman.

We pulled apart, once again not wanting to but having to, and walked hand-in-hand into the living room. I sat first, and as naturally as if it had been routine, Dad stretched out on the couch, his head on my lap, on my bare thigh. It gave me the tingles just to know that Daddy was just a mite away from my sensitivity, and to distract myself from the feeling, I bent over and gave Daddy a kiss on his forehead. In the process, though, my breasts pressed against the side of his face. Even as I straightened, Daddy turned to left slightly, his lips brushing against my breasts through the material of the shirt, and I couldn't help but shudder slightly.

"God, if this is how things are now, how the hell are we going to act sensibly?"

I had to laugh at Dad's expression as he looked at me with a mock-terrified expression. "Who says we have to?" I shot back, and Dad smiled.

"Seriously, hun, I am still worried. I mean, we've covered a lot of distance in a single day, haven't we?"

"Humm!" I agreed.

"Can we walk back all the way? This is the first time we've been so... expressive, but I don't think I would ever want it to stop. Not now, not when your mother gets alright, not even if you have to get married. Jesus, not ever!"

"Ditto, pops." I knew where he was leading, but being the headstrong teenager, I wasn't about to make backing out any easier for him.

"What if we can't, sweetie, we have to but we can't?"

He was serious now, as worried as I had ever seen him. "Then we won't, Pop. If we don't want to..."

He shook his head. "We would have to want, honey. Your mother's worth it, isn't it? I don't think I can live without her, and I know I can't live without you. It's not just the physical intimacy, you know..."

I ran a hand through his hair. "I know exactly how you feel, Daddy. But I don't think I want to say no right now."

We locked eyes, mine stared defiantly back at him. In the end, he answered. "That goes for me too... I have built so many dreams... still, I just hope we can do what we have to do... now and later. Whatever happens, Kelly, I love you."

"Not more than I love you!" The tension was suddenly lifted, the two of us laughed.

We watched a couple of old shows on TV, for about an hour or so. Dad was lying on his side, and it was damn cheeky of him to rub his face against my bare leg. His day's growth of beard tickled me, and his breath gave me goosebumps all over. Surely, he would have noticed it - but no, Dad had no idea of the effect he was having on me.

Yeah, sure!

It was soon time to go to bed, and as Dad stood up, I stretched. Dad pulled me up, his hand catching mine, and we walked upstairs. We stood at my door, and Daddy asked me if I could kiss him good-night. I was puzzled until he retreated me against the wall, moving my arms behind until they were right behind my head, and then kissed me on my lips. Full. Wet. Tender. Just as I had imagined it would be.

Dad locked one leg of his around mine, balancing me from sliding forward, and teased my lips with his tongue. As soon as my lips parted, he was inside, probing, tasting, feeling... it was quite an exquisite experience. Every part of my body was alive, but my senses were now limited to touch. His touch. I closed my eyes as we tasted each other, and colors swirled around.

Neither of us noticed the need for fresh air, so intense had been the kiss. It wasn't the hard mashing of lips or senseless grinding of hips, but the sheer warmth in what we had shared was enough to fill the memory of a lifetime. We gasped for breath as we pulled apart, our lungs heaving, but there was this contented smile on his face, as there was, I guess, on mine.

"That was something," he said, obviously for want of something better to say.

"You can say that again," I concurred, still panting. My Daddy certainly knew his kissing!

"Okay," he replied. "I will. That was something."

That made us laugh. If ever there was any doubt whether I had fallen for this man, there was none now. I was head-over-heels, and gone hard at that!

"That's it, then," Daddy said, exaggerating his yawn. "I guess it's time to call it a night. G'night, love." - I loved the way he said it - "Sweet dreams."

"To you too, Pops. Love you." I didn't trust myself to kiss him once again, and so I just backed up until I was inside my room. Habit made me close the door even as Daddy was walking away, but I didn't lock my door. And I wasn't going to start now.

I took off the shirt and ran the back of my hand over my mouth. I could still sense the blood rushing from that incredible kiss that had seemed so short so long ago. I shook my head at my reflection. Girl, I told myself, it's hardly been a minute. And I was already wanting the next one.

I considered throwing on a nightie - I had never slept naked until then - but then ended up taking off my panties as well. On retrospect, I guess I must have been hoping that Dad would come into my room, as he had admitted he had, tonight... at that moment, though, I told myself it was too hot to wear anything to bed.

With all the turbulence - emotional and physical - that had graced my day throughout, I had assumed that sleep would just be a matter of falling into bed. As it was, I tossed and turned - but sleep was still a dream. I was thinking of Dad too much - every single memory of his touch was keeping me awake. Fingering myself was out of the question - without knowing it, I had made my body exclusive to Daddy.

It must have been close to an hour after I had come to bed, when I heard the quiet, unmistakable sound of the door creaking open. Assuming that it was Daddy, I was confused whether to let on that I was still awake, or find out what he would do now that walls had been broken down. I chose the latter option, knowing fully well that I wouldn't mind whatever he did.

Only a wafer of light streaked in from the hallway, but it fell right on my body. I could sense, rather than feel, him coming closer, muffled footsteps that were surely his. I could hear his expulsion of air as he stood over me, inches away from my nude body, powerful enough to do anything to me... and yet, he ignored that power. He did nothing.

A part of me was disappointed. The other fell in love with him even more.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Dad moved. That is to say, he bent forward. For a second, I thought he was going to do it - he was really going to do it - but all he did was reach for my blanket and pull it up my body. His hands quivered as they reached my bare waist, I could sense it, then crossed it and reached my breasts.

Like any dutiful father, Dad did the thing he would have done under any other circumstance - he made sure that I was properly tucked in. He was being careful not to touch me 'in places,' but as his fingertips brushed against my nipple, he caught his breath. Collecting himself, as I suppose he must have, he continued until the quilt covered me neck down.

Then, with just a loving touch to my forehead, he turned to leave. It was out of my mouth before I knew it, and it startled Dad.

"Goodnight, Daddy." There was only a hint of drowsiness.

"Sweetheart, I - goodnight, baby." He hurried out of the room.