WARNING!!
This story contains Father and daughter incest. Between 2 consenting adults. It's written as a fantasy and is not based upon real life stories, or indeed the likelihood of it happening. If that's not your thing move on, there's thousands of other stories out there!
This story can be read solo, but it might be better to read from part 1 to get to know the characters and back story first.
How did it happen? Part 3
"I love you too Dad" she said happily, before disappearing around the door frame.
I closed my eyes, letting the water wash away my sin and I felt some measure of relief that Abby had come to an understanding with me that it could never happen again.
But I still wasn't at ease. I'd done the unthinkable. I'd had sex with my daughter. It crept around in my mind, stalking my conscience. I couldn't help but analyse. Had I forced myself on her? Was I to blame? The worst part was that I'd not stopped myself. I'd enjoyed it. It was a painful realisation and it made me feel dirty when I remembered my poor wife.
I reached for the shower gel and tried to scrub my guilt away.
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I won't bore you with the details of the drive to the hospital, collecting my wife or even the following couple of weeks. Abby and I didn't talk about our... indiscretion. She was bright like the sunshine and virtually floated around the house.
I began to worry. I'd expected some measure of sadness, maybe I'd even secretly hoped to see a hint of misery. But she seemed happier than ever. Bright eyed and breezy. My wife noticed immediately.
"Must be a boy" she sighed wistfully, idly toying with her hair. I was only half listening, lost in my own thoughts. "Hmmm... yes" I mumbled vaguely.
She gave me a long searching look.
"It wouldn't hurt you to pay some attention to Abby you know" She chided me. "She's a beautiful woman now, not a little girl. She'll outgrow you and drift away if you're not careful". For some reason this made me pay attention with a start, I nearly spat my coffee out at the irony. If only she knew just how close I'd gotten to our daughter whilst she was in hospital. I wanted to be close to my daughter. Really close. Images flashed through my mind and I suppressed a shudder.
"Time to move" my wife said with a small groan. "Can you help me?" she asked, a trace of discomfort in her voice. I snapped out of my day dream and rushed to my feet, nearly knocking my chair over. The operation had been a success, but had left her with dissolvable stiches and fading pain that flared from time to time. I held out my arm and she gently levered herself up, beginning toward the stairs and her long climb to the bathroom.
Abby breezed past, short floaty PJ shorts and a thin cropped top. She stood in the doorframe and discreetly watched her mother climb the stairs one at a time, clutching the rail for support. Once out of sight, she looked over her shoulder at me, a smirk creasing her lips. Turning slowly, she laid her back against the glossed door frame and raised her eye brows slightly. Time seemed to freeze, as did my heart beat. I watched as she slowly bent her left leg, resting her foot flat against the wood. She arched her back, her midriff tight and toned, her breasts pushing against the soft cotton. Her nipples erect, obviously not constrained by a bra.
She bit her lip and slowly ran her hands down her sides, her eyes fluttering closed. I gazed dry mouthed, barely breathing. Abby's fingers grazed the waistband of her shorts and for a heart stopping moment I thought, I hoped, that she would slip them off. Instead she floated her fingers to her navel, gradually tracing them across her bare tummy and up between her breast. I was transfixed as she caressed her collar, working her fingers sensuously up the sides of her neck and through her hair. She finally stretched her arms up high to lightly caress the top of the doorframe. She gave a satisfied, and smug smile, and turned toward me, dropping her arms to her side.
"Morning Daddy" she said in her best innocent voice. She stopped dead in front of me, not more than a foot. As she bent her head toward me her hair fell across her face and I could smell the light fragrance from her shampoo and conditioner. Lower she bent, and lower the neck of her top dropped. The tips of her hair brushed my cheek. I tried not to look, but I glanced down, her cleavage was on full display. Her firm, ripe teenage breasts were now only partially covered. In that brief moment, I longed to reach out, to touch them and caress them, to hear her sigh. Instead, I screwed my eyes shut and tilted my head upward and away from the temptation of her firm flesh. Abby's face was now so close to mine, I could feel the heat of her skin, my heart was racing, ready to burst from my chest with yearning. I made ready to speak, to put a stop to it by summoning my reserves, but as I opened my eyes, there was Abby, staring into my eyes. I stopped breathing; my words lost as she leaned in to kiss my lips. She was tender, she grazed my lips with hers, her breath hot as she broke away, reaching her hands behind my head, she pulled me toward her again and kissed me firmly, her tongue prying my lips apart, seeking mine. I didn't resist. I kissed her back. The gentleness fading quickly to fire and passion. It seemed like we kissed that way for an eternity, but it could have only been a few fleeting seconds.
A crash from upstairs startled us and we broke apart quickly, Abby wrenching herself away from me, stumbled. Breathlessly she gazed at me intently, animal lust and hunger across her expression. I'm sure mine was similar. I wanted to rush over to her and take her in my arms. Push her against the table and feast on her. Ravish her. Satisfy the animal within me.
I might have if my wife hadn't have called "It's OK, just dropped something in the bath".
I whipped my head to the empty stairs. Safe. But the spell was broken. I looked at Abby, she looked slightly bashful, bit her lip and smiled nervously whilst her right hand toyed with the neck of her top. We said nothing, both of us shocked at the intensity of the reaction.
She hesitated, then turned around and strode to the kitchen worktop, flicking the kettle on. She stood still for a moment, her back toward me. I couldn't think of anything to say, my lust still vying for control over my common sense. The air still crackled with sexual tension. I took her in. She was breath taking. Her long legs were toned and shapely, her shorts were slightly lose, but were cut to snuggle into her firm rounded ass. Her hips tapered into her narrow, toned waist before flaring out to her muscled back and strong shoulders. Abby glanced over her shoulder at me, she knew I was watching her every move. She slowly turned to face front, after a brief hesitation she raised herself on tip toes and spread her legs slightly as though to balance. Her bed shorts rode up her crack as she pushed her ass out a little she reached upward slowly toward a shelf containing spare coffee mugs, making sure I could see her muscles flexing under her bronze skin. She could have chosen one hanging under the cupboard.
Her legs were perfectly defined, amazing and seemingly longer for being stretched on tip toes.
Abby took her time, giving me ample time to gaze at her. Eventually she decided that she wanted one right at the back of the shelf, that she couldn't reach. She bent one of those incredible legs and placed the knee on the work surface, whilst the other leg balanced on the floor precariously on tip toes. The effect made her shorts even tighter and I as she pushed her ass out further to reach higher, I suddenly had a clear view up the leg of her short shorts. My breath caught as I nearly lost control realising that she wasn't wearing any panties.
