I used to frequent a message board, now defunct, for people who get off on incest. One of the forums was for incest-related photos. The story that follows was inspired by one such picture. The last three words of the story are the caption that accompanied the picture.
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I run a successful home-remodeling company. I started it with my then-wife Lauren, who left me for her Tai Chi instructor a while back. After our daughter Donna finished college, I gave her a job in sales, and she proved to be damn good at it. A little over a year ago, we were exhibitors at a home improvement expo on the other side of the state. She's taken on other responsibilities since I hired her, and she made the reservations for us. I did worry that she was getting so comfortable living in the same house that she wouldn't "launch," to use the phrase from a few years back.
We carried our bags to the check-in desk and Donna asked for our pass keys. I won't try to give you the entire exchange verbatim, but somehow they had only reserved a single room for the two of us. Donna insisted that she had reserved separate rooms for each of us. "I even asked for two that were next to each other," she added.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Estes, but the reservation is one room for double occupancy," the clerk said.
Donna protested, "It's Miss. Frank is my dad, not my husband. I distinctly remember telling you—I mean, the reservation agent, not you personally—that we needed rooms, plural."
"Be that as it may, the reservation is what it is. We always send a confirmation e-mail. But let me look at it more closely. The reservation was made—Oh. No surprise there. The agent who handled your call no longer works for us."
I could see that Donna was ready to strangle him, so I interceded. "Mistakes happen. Just get us two rooms, preferably a suite."
"I'd like to, but we're completely booked tonight. Here's what I can do. Your reservation is for three nights. If a room becomes available, I can put one of you in there. In the meantime, I'll let my manager know what happened, and he has the authority to do something to make it up to you."
I looked at Donna and nodded. Donna told him, "I guess that'll have to do."
"Here are your pass keys, and again let me apologize on behalf of the Prince Edward." He handed the pass keys to Donna, who gave one to me, and we took our luggage to our room on the fifth floor. Personally, I was more annoyed at our distance from the exhibition floor than I was at having to share a room with my daughter.
I started to think that I shouldn't have asked her to come with me to this convention halfway across the state, not because I doubted her word about the call, but because we were going to be in closer quarters than we normally are at the house. Then I remembered that she had volunteered to come with me. She'd probably regret it now.
To make matters worse, the room had only one bed, and there wasn't room for another. We both changed into clean clothes so we could set up our booth and grab some dinner afterward. When we came back, my back was hurting so I took an ibuprofen and lay down. Donna said she was going to the hotel's gym to work out her frustration. I was asleep when she got back.
We got leads from several people the first day, so it was off to a good start. We ate dinner at the hotel's restaurant, which wasn't fancy, but it was nice. The whole day was enough to make Donna forget our accommodations until we got back. As soon as we were inside, she told me, "I need to take a shower so I can relax."
"I need one too, but you can go first," I told her. She pulled a medium-size robe off one of the permanent hangers, and she headed into the bathroom. I turned the TV on to see what they had. Immediately I was faced with several adult movies on demand, and I clicked away from them quickly so Donna wouldn't see the titles. After I heard the weather forecast, I got undressed. When I heard her start the blow dryer, I knew that I had time to take everything off as well as putting the robe on, so I did. Of course she's seen me in my underwear enough times that I wasn't really worried.
Donna came out wearing only a towel. She could tell I was staring at her, and she explained, "The robe wasn't big enough. The towel covers more."
"No need to explain," I said, but I tried to look away while I pulled a fresh pair of briefs out of my suitcase. Donna had a baby when she was sixteen and gave it up for adoption. She went from being on the slender side to borderline voluptuous. I tried not to notice, but I knew that guys looked at her admiringly.
I got into the shower and thought about work. Our current accounts-receivable person was about to go on a leave of absence to care for her mother, and I thought about who should take over while she was out. I also wondered whether we'd brought enough fliers. Once I'd finished in the shower and dried off, I put my underwear on and stepped out of the bathroom. Donna was on the left side of the bed, from her point of view, with the hem of the bedspread just below her neck. I wondered whether she remembered that her mother used to sleep on that side. Something didn't look right, but I wasn't sure what.
I turned the last light off. As I pulled up the covers on my side of the bed, I said, "Night, Donna."
While I was getting under the covers, she answered, "Night, Daddy."
I pulled the covers up. My briefs were riding up on my left side, so I reached underneath to adjust them. Donna moved to the edge of the bed so I'd have room. When I was done, she came back and put her arms over the bedspread. When I brought my hand up past my waist, I felt skin. I thought, "That's probably her thigh." I straightened my leg out to get comfortable, and I felt her knee against mine. The bare skin I felt wasn't her thigh. I put my hand back underneath. I felt around looking for her wrist and reached over. I hadn't watched her pack, so I didn't know whether to expect pajamas, a nightgown or a long T-shirt. I felt her stomach. I pulled back and found her thigh. When I reached over from there, all I felt was more flesh. I turned over, replacing my left hand with my right. Before my hand felt anything, I could feel her bare back against my chest! Now I knew what was amiss earlier—I should have seen straps on her shoulders. I continued the motion of my right hand and felt her bare hip and thigh. I moved it down and felt pubic hair.
I thought I heard Donna giggle before she said, "Hi, Daddy." I put my palm over her mound, and my middle finger bent a little further in than the others. She hummed her approval.
"Donna ..."
"I just wanted to see if you were as straight-laced as you usually act around me."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I hear you make semi-lewd jokes with the other staff that you never make around me. You even tell 'em when women are around. Just not me."
"Is that a problem?"
"No one minds," she assured me. "I hear you laugh at the same jokes when they make 'em. I'm just saying, there's a whole area of conversation that doesn't happen if I'm there. I wanted to see who's the real you, 'Daddy' or 'Frank'."
"And?" I probed.
She looked down at the bulge in the blanket where my hand was. "And you haven't pulled away," she said.
I could feel my dick getting hard. "Neither have you," I pointed out.
Donna started to roll over toward me. I scooted back to give her room. We were both lying on our sides. Donna put her hand on my hip, taking the edge of the waistband of my briefs between her fingers. "How long has it been since you had sex?"
I laughed uncomfortably. "I guess that's that 'area of conversation,' isn't it?" I didn't want to admit that I had enjoyed some nice afternoons with various female customers over the years. I thought out loud and answered, "Well, it's been seven years since Lauren left, so ... I guess eight."
