Disclaimer: All characters are 18 or older.
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Ch. 01: Welcome Home
Richard Johnson was a patient man. He had to be, bearing a name like his. He was a calm, level-headed man, who generally lived by the rules and made reasonable plans for the future. He was responsible, dependable, and cautious. For two years and three months, he'd been a loving husband, and for the seventeen years since then, he'd been a good, loving father to his daughter. That's not to say he was an average sort of man. He'd lived a very unusual life. He'd always been a bit of a jock, and played tackle on the football team in his school. When he was eighteen, he'd married his high school sweetheart. Unfortunately, he hadn't been impressive enough to merit a scholarship like some of his teammates, but he soon landed in his feet in an unexpected profession. Professional wrestling. Initially he was part-time, wrestling at a local gym for a cut of the tickets while he went to college. But when his wife passed, he'd left school and thrown himself into his work to make the money he needed. Over the next eight years, he'd risen up to the national stage under the persona of 'Tombstone'. The costume was a bit embarrassing, a weird combination of KISS's costume style and Lobo's personality, with a dash of Hulk Hogan for good measure. While his co-workers spent their fortunes on large houses and extravagance, he invested and saved his money. In his eighth year, he suffered an injury to his knee, and had to retire. Since then he'd spent his time at home living with his daughter, occasionally going off for a few days at a time to do commercials or the occasional movie appearance.
For a man of 36, he was in great shape. He had to be to fit into the costume. He stood 6'4", with broad, powerful shoulders, muscular arms, and sharply-defined abs. He had short black hair that he spiked up when in costume, sharp blue eyes, and a handsome face with a square, clean-shaven jaw. He had a fake moustache to wear in costume, he got recognized too often if he just let it grow. At the moment his muscular figure was wrapped up in business casual, a white, collared shirt that bulged around his muscles, black slacks, and worst of all, a tie. He hated ties. Currently he was driving back home in his favorite car, a cherry red muscle car with a very satisfying roar when he pushed down the gas. He only allowed himself to drive it when he was doing appearances. He cranked the wheel right and turned onto his street, casting his gaze toward his home. It wasn't a huge house, but it was more than big enough for just him and his daughter. Two stories, four bedrooms, a large kitchen, a finished basement with a home theater and a full gym, an in-ground pool and a hot tub in the back, and a two-car garage. And best of all, the place was paid for in full, no more mortgage to worry about.
Normally, the sight of his home after three days away was a welcome sight. But recently, his returns from these appearances filled him with a feeling of a dread. In the last few months, he had been struggling to deal with a fact that was becoming more and more obvious by the day. He daughter was hot. Incredibly hot. The realization had come on quite suddenly, and he was wrestling with the guilt it caused him. He'd been a good father for the first seventeen years, but in the months since her 18th birthday, he suddenly couldn't stop noticing her incredible body. Each time he came back she was more mature, more beautiful. The temptation to act on these observations was eating him alive, but he knew he had to resist it, to fight it back and ignore it. He knew what he was thinking was wrong on so many levels, and so he fought it tooth and nail, struggling to hold on to a pure relationship with his little girl.
As he pulled into the garage and it closed behind him he gave a small sigh. Reaching up he hooked a finger into his tie and pulled it down, loosening the business noose as he climbed out of the car and made his way inside. "I'm home!" He called out to the house as he pulled the tie completely off, tossing it over a shoulder as he started to unbutton his shirt. He soon had it open, revealing his powerful pecs and the white sleeveless shirt he wore underneath it. He rolled it off his shoulders, revealing powerful shoulders and thick biceps, slabs of muscle big enough to fit a softball inside. He tossed the shirt over the back of his chair as he undid his belt and shed his shoes and slacks, leaving him in only his boxers and tee. "Samantha?" He called out, curiously.
Listening carefully he could hear her talking to someone on the phone in her room. He couldn't hear much but he did hear her giggle and scold her friend. Probably Anna, that girl had a raunchy sense of humor. He heard her start moving again and she came out of her room and ran down the stairs. "Daddy!" She called out with a wide grin. For a moment, he saw her as his little ten-year-old girl again, running down those same stairs with the same grin on Christmas morning. But the illusion only drove the point home of just how much she had changed. Her long, black, wavy hair had been straightened into silky, straight tresses. She was wearing black lipstick on her plump, soft lips, which made them shimmer in the light. She was wearing some sort of half-length black and purple corset that made her eye-popping breasts into mind-boggling tits, an ocean of creamy, pale cleavage, but still exposed her smooth, lightly toned stomach, including her bellybutton ring with a soft purple stone dangling from it. She was wearing a black-and-purple miniskirt that barely counted as a belt in his opinion, which did practically nothing to obscure her flared hips and positively juicy ass. There had to be a thong in there somewhere, he reasoned to himself, though he saw no sign of it. And to top it off she was wearing thigh-high black-and-purple striped stockings, forearm-high black and purple striped fingerless gloves, and a pair of knee-high black buckled leather platform plus heel boots, the classic sexy goth boot.
She ran to him and threw herself on him, flattening her titanic tits against his broad, powerful chest and throwing her arms around his neck, nuzzling affectionately. "Daddy! I'm so glad you got home on time! I didn't want to head out before you got back." She cooed. He returned the embrace, trying very carefully to avoid putting his hands anywhere particularly erotic, but with a body like hers it was a challenge.
"Aww, I missed you too, baby. Where are you headed?" He asked, trying to pull away from the hug a bit. She let him step back, but kept her fingers woven together behind his neck, not letting him go yet. This only made the problem worse, as while she looked up into his face, he looked down directly into that inescapable valley of cleavage.
"I'm going to a party at Anna's. It's a goth theme and I wanna look good." She smirked, finally letting him go. She took a step back and give a twirl , showing her outfit off. The turn raised the skirt high enough to show off more than half her ass, which looked even more amazing than usual thanks to those boots. He bit down on his complaints, keeping his instinctual protective urges in check. It's just how the girls are dressing these days, he told himself, fighting her over it will just make her more determined, and then she's gonna go to the party looking to misbehave.
He forced his mouth into a smile. "You look great, baby. Very 'goth'." he commented, throwing her a thumbs up for good measure. "I'm probably just gonna stay in, drink a beer and watch some TV." He replied, gesturing his thumb toward the kitchen.
