Daddy And Daughters 1

The light was still on as I walked into the kitchen. I
sat down and looked at the papers, old photographs,
and envelopes scattered on the table. I thought back
to the time almost a year ago before my world changed
and fell apart and then came back together again. I
picked the envelope with Marla's name on it. 'For
Marla on her 16th birthday' was printed on it.

August 2000

Like many couples today, my wife June and I work long
hours just to keep our house together. This would have
been even more difficult if we hadn't managed to get
different shifts so that we didn't have to pay for
childcare.

My wife worked as an executive assistant from 8:30 AM
to 5:00 PM. I tested mainframe computers from 6:00 PM
to 2:30 AM. Good childcare in the Twin Cities is very
costly and if we had not been able to work different
shifts we would have slowly gone broke. That doesn't
excuse what happened but it does explain how it
happened.

As I was saying, I get home about 3:00 in the morning
and my wife leaves at about 8:00. That means that I
have to at least try to be awake when she leaves so
that I can watch our daughter.

I was dead tired that morning when my wife June kissed
me goodbye. "Mark, try to get supper ready before you
leave tonight. I promised to take Becky shopping for
school clothes and if I have to cook, we'll be pressed
for time."

"Sure thing, dear." My brain felt so fuzzy I didn't
care what I agreed to.

Mornings tend to be pretty unstructured in our home so
Becky was still dressed in her usual cotton nightie
and panties. I was still in my under shorts and
bathrobe. I parked Becky in front of the television
and went to take a shower to try to wake up. It didn't
work all that well. I wrapped a towel around my waist
after I was done and checked on Becky. The childrens'
shows on public TV still had her enthralled.

I lay down on my bed to catch forty winks. I didn't
even bother dressing first. I was only going to sleep
for a half hour or so and then get on with my daily
chores.

One other side effect of my wife and I working
different shifts is that our sex life is almost non-
existent. Maybe that's just another attempt to shift
the blame but I feel I ought to mention it.

Anyway, there I was spread out on my bed, with a towel
around my waist, sawing logs and having a very
pleasant erotic dream. My daughter was in
the living room watching Barney or some such cartoon
character. I had the normal male reaction to an erotic
dream. I ejaculated all over my belly. My nocturnal
emission could not have come at a more inopportune
time (pardon the pun). I shot my wad shortly after my
daughter came into my bedroom. Well actually I don't
know how long she watched before I creamed all over my
belly.

My towel had come undone and was not covering any part
of my anatomy. My erect penis was lying on my belly
pointed directly at my chest. Becky watched me shoot
cum all the way to my chin. Most guys will tell you
that they wake up when they start to cum and that's
just what I did. I woke up to see my teenage daughter
staring at my crotch as glob after glob of cum
splashed on my chest.

My first instinct was to yell at her to get out. I
fought that completely normal reaction and tried to
think how I could get her out of my room without
traumatizing her. She had seen me naked and It was too late now.

"You should knock before you come into mommy and
daddy's bedroom, Becky. You know that." I calmly
draped the towel over my rapidly deflating penis. "Is
there something you need, honey?"

"Could you make me a cheese sandwich, Daddy?" Becky
was looking at my cum drenched chest instead of my
face.

"Why would you want to be a cheese sandwich? Don't you
like being a little girl?"

This was one of our games. We both found it to be
extremely hilarious and this word play seemed like a
good way to remove the tension from the situation. It
worked.

Becky giggled. "I don't want to make ME into a cheese
sandwich, Daddy, I want you to MAKE a cheese sandwich
for ME to EAT."

"Sure, honey. You go to the kitchen and put the bread
and cheese on the counter. I'll be out in a minute."

I breathed a sight of relief as I watched her cute
teenage butt exit my room. That's not how I should be
thinking of my own daughter. But that's what I
remember thinking. I could see the lighter colored
shape of her panties under the thin cotton nightie. I
watched her hips sway girlishly as she walked to the
door. She turned when she got to the door. She stood
sideways for a second. One perky little nipple poked
at the front of her thin nightgown. My cock was
getting hard again.

"Hurry up, daddy. I'm getting hungry."

"Be there in a minute, dear."

I tried not to think about my reaction as I dressed.
Fathers are not supposed to get erections when they
look at their sexy beautiful teenage daughters.

.

Becky was sitting at the counter when I walked into
the kitchen. The kitchen was already hot from the
August sun streaming in through the sliding glass
doors that led to the patio. I sat on the stool next
to Becky and grabbed a couple slices of bread. "How
many slices of cheese, Becky?"

"Umm, two."

"Mayo or butter."

"Mayo."

"Tomato?"

"Umm, no."

"Gopher guts?"

Becky giggled. "Daddy! We don't have any gopher guts
for sandwiches!"

"I could go get some."

That brought another fit of giggling. I continued to
make the sandwich through all of this back and forth.
I handed her the sandwich and went to wash the dishes.
Becky seemed not at all traumatized by what had just
taken place.

Becky finished her sandwich and went to watch more TV.
I couldn't let it rest, though. I followed her to the
living room. I sat on the couch next to her. Some
cartoon character was trying to teach Spanish words to
the audience. I muted the TV.

"Becky, I want to talk to you about what you saw in
the bedroom."

"O.K., Daddy."

Now that I had started this I wasn't sure how to
proceed. I took a deep breath. I needed to keep this
low key and non-threatening. "Now, you know that your
supposed to knock before you come into my bedroom."

"Yes." She spoke very quietly.

"O.K. Tell me why you're supposed to knock."

"Because you want to be in there alone?

"Yes. And I might not be dressed and want to dress
before you come in. Like today."

"I know, Daddy. I'm sorry."

I kissed her forehead. "I know you're sorry. I just
wanted to be sure you understood." I took another
breath. "I also want to ask you to not mention this to
Mommy when she gets home."

"Why not?"

"Well, it was an accident but Mommy might not
understand how it happened. I should have been awake
and dressed when you walked in not asleep and
undressed."

Becky shrugged. "O.K., Daddy."

I sighed with relief. I hadn't realized how tense I
was until now."

"Daddy."

"Yes, honey."

"What was that stuff that came out of your thing?"

That was one question I hadn't expected. "Why do you
ask, honey?"

"Welllll." Becky seemed reluctant to tell me why she
wanted to know. I started to wonder if I had affected
her after all.

"You can tell me, Becky. I'll be honest with you, if
you're honest with me."

Now it was Becky's turn to sigh. "O.K. Daddy, I'll
tell you. Marla says that white stuff comes out her
Daddy's thing when she touches it. I just wanted to
know if that's the same stuff."

That set me back. Becky's best friend Marla was
playing with her Dad's penis and watching him cum.
Jack and I were friends. His wife Betty had died a
little over a year ago and Jack had gotten pretty
depressed but he seemed to be better lately.

I was their daughter Marla's godfather. They had lived
right across the street from us since before our kids
were born. Our families had eaten at each other's
table so many times I couldn't count them. Betty and I
had had a short-lived affair before the kids came
along but our families' friendship had survived even
that. Was Jack really molesting his daughter or rather
having his daughter molest him? I had to be really
careful here.

"Yes it is the same stuff. Just what did Marla tell
you?"

"Last year her Dad got sick after Marla's Mom died. He
stayed home from work for a long time and Marla
watched T.V. with him. One day he took out his thing
and played with it until the white stuff came out. Her
Dad told her not to tell any one because he might get
into trouble. After that her Dad would play with his
thing every day while they watched T.V. Then one day
her asked her to play with it. The white stuff
squirted way up in the air and some landed in her
hair. Her Dad made her swear not to tell anyone. She
still plays with his thing almost every day."

"If she promised not to tell anyone why did she tell
you?"

Becky looked at me like I was dense. "Because Me and
are bestest friends. We tell each other everything."

"So you'll tell Marla about what you saw today?"

Becky shrugged. "Maybe. We talk about a lot of stuff."

"Has Marla's Dad asked her to do other things?"

"Welllll."

"You can tell me, honey. I won't tell anything that
should be a secret."

Becky sighed again. "He's also touches her on her
chest and between her legs. And last month he told her
to put her mouth on his thing. The stuff squirted into
her mouth and she spit it out. She said it tasted
awful. Why would he ask her to put her mouth on his
thing?"

"Well, honey, for most men it feels really good when
their girlfriends do that to them. I think it was
wrong of her Dad to ask her to do that, though. Does
it make Marla feel bad when her Dad makes her play
with him?"

"It did at first but now she says it makes her tingle.
Especially between her legs. She doesn't know how she
feels about it."

"What have they taught you in school about this,
Becky?"

"The teachers said that if anybody touches you in your
private places you should tell somebody right away.
But Marla doesn't want to tell anyone about her Dad.
She doesn't want to get him into trouble."



"Let me think about this for a bit. Could you invite
Marla over this afternoon? I'll talk to her about it.
Maybe we can work something out."

"Sure. We were planning to go to the park this
afternoon. We'll come over here first."

"Good, honey. All right, then, go get dressed and
let's get the housework done."

.

The morning went by pretty quickly. I managed to work
side by side with Becky without once getting an
erection. Maybe I wasn't a pervert.

I still hadn't decided what to do about Jack. I
guessed I would wait to hear what Marla had to say.

Marla came over just before lunch. The girls were
dressed in flower-patterned halter-tops and denim
shorts. They looked almost like sisters.

I served the girls chicken soup and tuna salad
sandwiches while we chatted about inconsequential
things. After the dishes were washed and set in the
dish rack to dry, I cleared my throat.

"Marla, Becky told me some things today that I feel
you and I need to talk about."

"I know. She told me on the phone this morning."

"Are you willing to talk to me about your Dad?"

"I guess so. Dad told me not to tell anyone but you
already know so. why not?"

"Do you want Becky to be with us while we talk?"

Marla hesitated. "No. I'll talk to you alone."
"Fair enough, Marla. Let's go to the family room.
Becky, why don't you play in your room for a while?
I'll use the intercom to call you if Marla wants you
to come down stairs."

"O.K., Daddy. Come up and get me when you're done
Marla"

Marla sat on the couch and I sat in my rocking chair.
She was so short that her little legs stuck almost
straight out. I still didn't know how to proceed. I
decided to get facts and hope something occurred to
me.

"Tell me what your Dad wants you to do to him."

"Becky already told you. He has me take out his thing
and rub it up and down until he squirts his stuff."

Marla watched her feet intently as she kicked her legs
back and forth. I felt that Marla had more that she
wanted to say. "What else does your Dad make you do?"
I asked quietly.

"He makes me to put my mouth over it and have the
stuff squirt into my mouth, it tastes kind of yucky,
and he puts his hand on my boobs and on my cunny while
I do it makes me feel kind of weird but sometimes it
feels kind of nice.."

"Do you want him to stop?"

Marla kicked her legs up and down for a few seconds
while she looked down at her lap.

"Sometime he makes me do it when I don't want to. Like
last night he came into my room while I was asleep. He
woke me up and made me do it to him. He didn't even
call me Marla. He called me Betty. I think he thinks
that I'm Mom."

"I think you might be right Marla. The important thing
now is to decide what to do about it. I could talk to
your Dad and tell him to let you be if you'd like. I
could also take you to a social worker and they could
have you live with someone else for a while until your
Dad can get some help. Do you know what you want to
do?"

"I don't want to go live with someone else, that's for
sure. You talk to him first. Maybe he'll stop."

"I'll talk to him as soon as he gets home. You have my
word. You and Becky go play now. Come back here when
you're done playing. Don't go home first. Your Dad
might be upset that someone knows."

"O.K." Marla crawled off the couch and ran up stairs.
I stayed in the family room for a few minutes trying
to figure out what to say to Jack. I heard the back
door slam a few minutes later. Jack should be home
early this afternoon. I had about an hour to come up
with something.
Contd.