Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Spitting Image


Summary: Carly realizes her love for her father.


Keywords: inc,fic



   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&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."


   pics---->> http://bit.ly/1QdQXsD