Good Advice

By the time I awoke the next morning, the sun had already peeked into our house. Through the open door, I could hear the voices of Mom and Dad, although it was still indistinct enough for me not to make out what they were talking about. I smiled fondly within myself as I recalled my wonderful sleep - within moments of Dad leaving the room, I had fallen into a dreamy slumber, replete with images of Dad... and me...

I lay in bed for around five minutes, naked and on top of the sheets, naughtily hoping that it would be Dad who would come to wake me up. No one came, and in a way, I was relieved. It was one thing to flirt openly when Mom wasn't there, but when she was, it kinda put a crimp in our style, know what I mean? Still, I reminded myself, Dad and I were supposed to make Mom jealous, maybe even possessive.

It took me another one minute to decide that I would wear just a shirt over my panties. No bra, and I took care to choose a translucent shirt. I buttoned the top up to my breast, but as I walked down the stairs, my hands, seemingly of their own volition, unfastened a few buttons until my entire cleavage would be easily displayed. A part of me was numb to the point of blind following; the other was too excited.

If Mom thought my dress was improper, she didn't let on. Dad, on the other hand, was immediately flustered. I guess I had a really bad-hair look, something like I had just been truly fucked, and I have to admit I enjoyed the tease I was putting on. I gave Mom the obligatory peck on the cheeks, greeting her with a "Hello, Mom? Flight on time?" Dad, on the other hand, got a wet kiss on his cheeks and a bear hug to boot.

Mom couldn't have missed it, but she said nothing. My hopes rose - we might have to go a step further. And I would be the last one to complain, obviously.

I picked the chair beside Dad's, making no effort to disguise the fact that I moved even closer to him. As Mom settled down for her breakfast, I spotted the bottle of jam on the opposite side of the table. I made quite a production out of reaching for the jam, startling Dad when I pressed my chest into his hands. Involuntarily - or voluntarily - he squeezed my tit lightly. The sensation was so different that I stopped for a second, my nipple pressing into his palm through the thin material of the shirt, but my sudden, muted sigh did not even evoke as much as a raised eyebrow from Mom. She heard it, of that I am sure.

Eating passed without any other incident, and Dad heaved a sigh of relief when Mom stood up. It wasn't that you could blame him - in fact, I was rubbing my bare legs against his throughout the entire time, getting his dual-purpose shaft to stand erect. I almost broke out when he stood up, his boner so evident that you could hang a weight on it, and the shade of his face was priceless.

In a way, I was buoyed by the fact that Mom did nothing. Don't get me wrong - I know it asserted the Doc's diagnosis - but selfishly, I was glad that we didn't have to stop. With each passing moment with Dad, my heart was beating faster... it is only a matter of time, I told myself.

Dad was still a wee bit reluctant initially, but he warmed to my teasing. Sometimes, when I walked around in a bikini, he would make catcalls, especially if Mom was close enough to hear his comments. I allowed him the luxury of ogling me as much as he could, and as the days passed, so did any remaining inhibitions. I would bend over in front of Daddy, giving him - with Mom's knowledge - a good view down my cleavage.

Then, before we even knew it, a month had passed. It was my birthday.

Mom told us in the morning itself that she would be late coming home, that she had some business to take care of. Dad and I weren't too disappointed though - it was kinda expected. Still, the confirmation did put a crimp on the mood, and I vetoed Dad's idea of having a party that evening. Instead, we agreed, this evening would be a special one - but only for the two of us.

On retrospect, I guess both of us knew, rather than hoped, that we would go far today. I was eagerly counting the hours.

In the evening, Dad once again offered to take me out to dinner, but I declined. I wanted the intimacy of my home for this special event, and I told him so. We sent out for pizza and bought a carton of ice cream, and that was it. Dad asked me if I wanted a movie, and I asked him to get me the scariest one. Dad got the message, and grinned wolfishly at me.

Just as I was about to get the ice cream from the freezer, Dad ushered me into his bedroom. His and mom's. There, on a stand that was waist-high, was a white, cream cake. I was as surprised as I was touched, and the words on the cake, "Celebrating the day you gave me life... Dad," brought tears to my eyes. Dad just held me as I sniffled, his hand over my shoulder, another holding my hand. It was an atmosphere of love.

Nineteen candles is too much to blow out with a single breath, but I found myself wishing for what I wanted to have. Daddy. Even though it was just the two of us, it was great fun, what with Daddy and me smearing each other with the cake. Between the two of us, we managed to waste most of the cake onto our faces, laughing silly, until there was only a little of the cake left.

I have quite a fondness for cherries, but just as I reached for the red berry topping the cake, Dad swiped it off. "Give me that!" I shrieked as I tried to grab it out of his hand without success. Dad dodged, and ran to the other side of the room. I gave chase, and before long, I was pinned beneath him on the bed, Daddy grinning as he held the cherry over my pouting expression.

Big mistake!

In a flash, I craned my neck forward and snapped off the berry, putting it into my mouth. I didn't swallow it though, for I wanted it to share it with Daddy, a kind of symbolic invitation.

"Damn!" Dad said, smiling his frustration.

"You can still have my cherry," I replied, trying to give my voice a sultry touch. Dad's eyes brightened for an instant, then grinned as I brought the cherry up and held it between my teeth. Half in and half out. I made a small motion with my neck, asking him to come closer, and to my delight, Dad obliged.

He tilted his face and brought his mouth over the half of the cherry that was sticking out, and the touch of his lips against mine was definitely electric. Each of us bit off a half, more to let our tongues free than to eat the fruit, and kissed like we never had before. Over the last two months, Dad and I had kissed every single night - and yet, this was quite unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

Our lips were now sealed to each other, and I could feel the tongues dancing out of the intensity. The feeling was so exquisite that I allowed myself the luxury of closing my eyes as he savored me, as I was savoring him.

We rolled over on the bed, ending up with me on top, and kissed some more. Dad's hands started to fumble around the neckline of my blouse, and he hesitated for only a second before he started to started to pull down on the V. The material tore in his hands, and he completed the formalities by just ripping it off my body. It was a new top but I couldn't care less.

Dad's eyes lit up as he saw my tits for the first time. Anticipating just such a turn of events, I had decided not to wear a bra - and even if I had, he would have just torn that off too! We broke up the kiss, panting, and I smiled at Daddy. I guess I had the expression of a cheshire cat who's just had his share of milk. Dad smiled back, but there was no mistaking the desire in his eyes.

Before I could catch my breath completely, though, Dad whisked my skirt down and away from me. He twisted his body so that now, once again, I was underneath him. And then, ever so slowly, he slid down the length of my body until his face was just above my panties.

His first kiss to my navel threatened to send me over the edge, and I gripped the sheets as tightly as I could to keep from thrashing about. It was no more than a peck and I seriously doubted I could withstand a lot more. The assault on my senses didn't end there, as Dad trailed his tongue down my stomach to the waistband of my panties.

I felt his hands slide underneath my ass - instinctively, I raised my buttocks a little in the air. I was quite surprised, though, when Dad didn't use his hands to remove my panties; he used his mouth instead! He caught the hem of my panties between his teeth and slowly started to tug at them, moving them down my leg inch by inch.

As soon as my beaver was exposed, however, Dad forgot all about niceties. That he ravished me is a question beyond doubt, and that moment, I really didn't think I would survive the fireworks. Dad pushed the elastic band down to my knees and wrapped his mouth around my crotch. No one - and I mean NO ONE - had ever gone down on me before. It was quite a thrill to know that the first man to do so was my Dad.

Until then, I had to content myself with stories from my friends about how their dates drank dry their sopping wet pussies, but now that I was experiencing it, I was sure none of them had it this good. Dad's tongue sneaked into my hole, and I madly clutched his hair and pushed him even deeper, as much to my delight as to my shock.

Dad had his face buried between my legs until I came, bucking wildly against his face. Adding to everything was the feel of his stubble against my rather sensitive lips that made me cum the hardest I've ever in my life. Boy, was this a night of firsts!

I opened my eyes to find Daddy's gazing into mine.

"Sweetheart," Daddy asked, a little concern in his voice. "You okay?"

"You do that again, and I will die," I replied, holding his cheeks in my hand.

Dad placed a finger on my lips. "Hush, darling," he whispered. "Don't talk about death. There's still so much in life that we have to share..." And with that, without even waiting to see if I was going to protest weakness, he swallowed a breast, my erect nipple pressed against the back of his mouth.

Dad started to suckle so heavily that for a second, I feared my nipple was going to get sucked clean off my body. The hard bud didn't, though, and tortured me by being even more sensitive to Daddy's caresses. With one hand, my father kneaded the other breast, while the other rubbed my back lovingly.

And at that moment, the phone rang!

We ignored the first ring - hell, we didn't even hear it - but it continued incessantly, breaking into our coupling. I had more than half a mind to take the receiver off the hook and keep it there, but one look at Daddy's face assured me that it would be nothing more than a nuisance. There was nothing to keep us from finishing what we started tonight.

Were we mistaken!

"Hello, is this Mr.Harter's residence?"

"Yes, who is it?" I was aware I sounded rude, but whoever it was deserved it for their rotten timing.

"I am Deputy Stanford Whitman, from the Sheriff's Department. I've got some bad news for you."

"I am Kelly Harter, his daughter." Warning bells had started to go off. Was it something about ... us?

"Miss Harter, I am sorry to tell you this..." he paused before dropping the bombshell, "Your mother was in an accident on the highway an hour ago. Right now, we are at the Rev.James Memorial Hospital on 5th Street. She's ok, but could you come over right away? She might need some blood."

"We'll be there in ten minutes," the words came out automatically.

"What happened?" Daddy asked, seeing the shocked expression on my face.

"It's Mom," I said, the weight hitting me, "She's had an accident. She's now at the Memorial Hospital."

"Dear God! What happened?"

"I don't know... Daddy, I am so afraid. It was my fault..."

"Shush, honey." Dad put his arms around me, realizing that I was babbling, but he was no longer the lover. He was my father now, that strong, caring man who had always been there for me. "It is no one's fault. Come on, girl, cheer up! Daddy needs you to be brave..."

It took me a full minute to regain my composure, and Dad held me close the entire time. Finally, I stood up. "I'll go get dressed."

Dad nodded, saying nothing, but I could see something in his eyes I had rarely seen before. A faraway look that was filled with sadness. It tore my heart to leave him at a time like this, but I knew what had to be done. We had to be there for Mom, I told myself. We had to.

To cut a long story short, the trauma of the accident left Mom with a bit of amnesia. Her wounds took her three months to heal, and Dr.Malwinch visited her every other day to talk her through. Apparently, Mom had no idea she had been diagnosed with R-She-z, but the bright side was that she didn't seem to have it anymore. Her eyes lit up when she saw me or Dad, she was attentive, and she started to fuss over my choice of clothing and shared recipes. According to the Doc, the knock in the head did literally knock sense into her.

I had my Mom back... but that meant I would lose my love. It made me sick when I sometimes, for just a fraction of a second, wished Mom hadn't recovered; I wouldn't have had to lose Dad then. Sometimes I damned her, sometimes I damned myself. It took a month for Mom to get discharged from the hospital, and it was sheer pain to keep myself off Dad the entire time.

I still remember the conversation we had when Dr.Malwinch informed us that Mom had made a dramatic turnaround. After he left, and Mom was sedated for the night - it was less than a week from her accident - Dad and I drove home in silence. There were no midnight kisses, no flirting, none of the advances we had made towards each other. Instead, we sat down. We talked.

"Dad," I began, feeling that he was searching for words, "Now that Mom is alright, do we..." I dared not hope, for I knew the decision we had to make.

Dad shook his head regretfully. Words were not said much, but we conveyed what we had to. "She could find out. Maybe if we stop now..."

I nodded. We hadn't gone all the way - perhaps one day, I would look back and dismiss all this as a silly infatuated episode, Daddy said - but both of us knew that it would never be. We sat there in silence, holding hands, until Dad stood up. He gave a kiss to my forehead, very fatherly, and walked to his room. I heard the lock snap into place.

And I cried that night. I knew I would never find that part of me that I had lost to Dad...

It took Mom around three months to recover from the emotional side of the accident. Once in a while, Dr.Malwinch or his daughter Megan would call up and give an update, always very positive, and all of us, by some unspoken agreement, skirted what Dad and I had been about to embark on. We pretended as if it had never happened, but I didn't trust myself to be with Daddy again. It wasn't that I feared him - to me, HE was the irresistible damnation. I still wanted him, I still craved him.

After Mom was completely cleared mentally, a part of what had been her affliction was explained to her. Wisely, no one mentioned anything about the plan that brought Daddy and I together, and it was left to her conclusion that we were looking for a cure when she had her accident. She bought it.

A couple of weeks later, Mom suggested that all of us - Dad, I, Mom, Dr.Malwinch, Megan - go out for dinner. We had all become close friends in course of time, and I had confided to only one person in the world - Megan - that I still had trouble letting go of my feelings towards my father. She was supportive, sympathetic and tried to cheer me up, never letting up in spite of the lack of progress.

I wore a single-strap gown for the dress, something Mom bought to make up for missing my birthday, and as I slipped it on, I remembered that faraway night four months ago. How we had come so close to consummation...

As Mom and Dad danced together that night, I found myself growing jealous of her. Dammit! I thought, that should have been me, in his arms, dancing with him, laughing, loving... Megan and her father would occasionally cast me sympathetic glances, but that was not what I wanted. And then, something snapped inside me, something that had held me from really throwing myself at my father. The physical need was suddenly alive as I resolved that tonight - at least tonight - I would have daddy the way a woman has a man.

Inside me.

The two couples had just made their way back to the tables when I grabbed Daddy's hand and stole him from Mom. He made a smiling protest that he was too tired, but was just a step behind me as we walked into the dance floor. It was a slow, sensual song, ideal for couples in love, and Dad held me in his arms as we waltzed around.

I pressed myself against him, close enough to feel his arousal, yet far enough to avoid suspicion, and enjoyed the moment. The wetness between my legs grew as Daddy's hand started to rub my back, the other slipping down my bare shoulder to the swell of my breast, and I felt myself stiffening at his touch. God, it had been so long since I had felt that...

So long since I had felt alive.

As the dance ended, I moved closer to Dad, as if giving him a daughterly kiss on the cheeks, and whispered, "Daddy, I want you. Just follow my cue."

Dad gave me a shocked expression, which I sought to downplay by laughing out as if it were a joke, the charade mainly for my mother's sake, and Daddy played along. By the time we got to the table, Mom and Malwinches were looking at us rather amused that we should have enjoyed each other's company so much. Megan questioned me with a furtive glance, but I just smiled back as if it were nothing.

Halfway into the course, I could feel myself getting as wet as I ever had in my life. It was time, I decided, for everything. I couldn't wait.

'Accidentally,' I cut my finger with a knife, and although the gash wasn't deep, a few drops of blood was all it took for me to excuse myself to go the restroom and wash the cut. I picked up my handbag, ostensibly because I was having a strip of Band-aid in it 'somewhere.' Dad immediately caught on and was by my side in a flash, offering to help me, and we hurried away before anyone could say another word.

We went straight into the women's room. It seemed as if the Gods were finally on my side - there was no one inside, and I quickly pulled Daddy in and locked the door. Daddy whirled me around even before I had slid the latch completely, and planted one of the wettest kisses on my lips. I was as hungry for this touch as he was, and we were kissing like devils possessed within no time.

"Hmmm, Daddy," I moaned as we pulled apart with a slurp, "I love you. And I want you."

"I love you too, Sweetie," Daddy replied as he pushed the strap of my gown down my hand, freeing my breasts. They were heavy, I could feel their weight and their throbbing, but when Dad started to bend over, I pushed his face away.

"There is no time," I explained, my voice once again having a sexy undertone in it. Dad grabbed my hips and lifted me a few inches off the air as I slid off my soaked panties and pulled my gown up, bunching it around my middle. Dad placed me on the basin platform, then proceeded to unzip his pants and slid them down. I grabbed the hem of his underwear with my toes and pushed them downwards, and Daddy was as naked as I wanted him to be at that moment.

As we pulled each other closer again, Daddy rammed his pussy into my hole, on target the first time itself. No time was lost on niceties; he plunged all the way inside, right to the foot of his dick, and the sensation of having his balls crash against my lips was so delightfully wicked that I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from crying out. My legs, of their own volition, wrapped themselves around his waist, locking behind his ass, and Daddy started to pound me.

Dad cupped his hands underneath my butt and lifted me into the air, so that I was now totally supported on him, and used that to slide me up and down his cock. It took us less than a minute to let go, getting off simultaneously, and Dad set me back on the basin. Still coupled, the two of us struggled for another minute to catch our breath.