This is an incest story, taking place between a twenty-six-year-old daughter and her father.
As always this story takes place in a happy alternate reality where people don't worry about pandemics, std's, or the need for birth control.
Please forgive the story if it feels rushed. I sat down to make some notes for this basic idea, and suddenly the story was pouring out onto the page. I've never submitted something just a few hours after starting to write it before.
This is also my first attempt at incest within the immediate family so I hope it works.
Enjoy reading!
IE
~~~
My mother had finally passed away after a lengthy illness.
She'd been diagnosed shortly before I graduated high school, and I'd stayed home through four years of local college to get my bachelor's degree. But when I was offered a chance to pursue my master's at an out of state school both of them insisted I go.
I came home on breaks and every summer, helping my dad who had become her primary caregiver. For the first few years she got along without much change in her ability to get out and do things, and the only real change to their routine were all the doctor visits and prescription pills.
However, by my twenty-second birthday she began to go downhill. She went from a cane, to a walker, to a wheelchair, to spending most of her time in a bed.
Dad wasn't much past forty-five but had retired a few years earlier, taking a sizeable fortune as a buyout, with plans to spend the next thirty years fishing, camping, and traveling with Mom.
Instead, he was bathing her, feeding her, and helping her live as comfortably as possible as the end of her life came at them at light speed. They enjoyed their time as best they could, but on a spring morning almost a year after I'd gotten my master's degree she called to him from the bedroom and asked him to hold her tight.
Within moments she was no longer suffering.
After the funeral I stayed with him for several weeks, sorting through her clothes and getting the house in order. We spent lots of time each evening sitting on the back deck, looking out at the moonlit lake and talking.
One evening he told me he was going to sell the house and move.
"Where will you go?" I asked him.
"Your mother and I talked about this quite a bit," he said, "and I have a place picked out. It's a small house on another lake, about four hours from here. It's near where she and I lived when we were in college, and it's perfect."
"Well at least you get to keep your boat." I said with a grin.
"Damn straight." He replied with a chuckle. "The new lake is even bigger, and the house is smaller. It's a win/win."
I was pleased. I'd loved both my parents of course, but I'd been a 'Daddy's Girl' through and through. We'd always gotten along, laughing and joking with each other, and I was genuinely happy for him to be carrying on with life.
"Probably plenty of women in that college town." I told him with a wink. "They'd be more than happy to share some sexy fun with a handsome man who has his own boat and a lake house."
"Oh bullshit." He said. "I suspect my dating days are long behind me."
"Keep dreaming old man." I teased him. "You're a catch, and some gal is going to catch you."
I wasn't really exaggerating. Every college friend I'd brought home to visit had remarked about how handsome my dad was, and they weren't wrong.
Something I'd never confessed to anyone was that my father figured prominently in my masturbation fantasies.
I hadn't really discovered masturbation until I was in college, and I'd spent lots of time in my upstairs bedroom fingering myself through orgasm after orgasm.
No matter what fantasy started my fingering sessions, at the moment of orgasm it was my father's face that often popped into my mind.
When I'd moved out of state at the age of twenty-two and gotten my first vibrator, the more intense orgasms had caused more intense fantasies. More than once I'd given into my sexual desire for my own father and built elaborate fantasies about him fucking me senseless while my vibe buzzed me through multiple orgasms.
"So when is the big move?" I asked, trying to focus on something other than the lustful image that I'd inadvertently summoned.
"In about two months." He said. "Tomorrow we'll go through your stuff and anything you want I'll drive down to you in a few weeks. Anything you don't want I'll have donated, along with all the furniture I'm not taking to the new place."
~~~
And so a few weeks later he arrived at my apartment with a rental truck full of childhood memorabilia, and with the help of some friends he and I had it unloaded within minutes.
He and I went out to eat that night before he headed back.
He told me everything was on track with the sale of the house, and invited me down in a few weeks to spend one last day at the place as the movers loaded up all his stuff.
"I'm bringing the rollaway bed down from the attic and putting it in your old room." He told me. "I'll spend one last night looking at the lake and then in the morning I'll throw the rollaway in the back of my truck and give the keys to the realtor and be on my way."
~~~
And so a few weeks later I threw a 'just in case' change of clothes into a backpack and drove to the old house to say goodbye.
As the movers loaded his stuff I walked around the property, saying goodbye to the place. I spent time in the house, walking from room to room one last time, grateful for the memories of a great childhood and great parents.
My father and I went into town and had dinner together, and before long it was getting dark and we were standing in the driveway of the nearly empty house.
"You're okay to spend the night here in the creaky old rollaway bed?" I asked him.
"Of course." He said. "I slept up there a lot while your mom was sick. It was where I'd go for a bit of solitude."
With her unable to climb the stairs I had a sudden flash of him being able to masturbate up there without the slightest chance of getting caught.
I don't know why I had suddenly thought of that, but the idea of him masturbating in my old bedroom turned me on.
"Well at least let me help you get it downstairs." I said. "That'll make it easier for you to get it out to your truck in the morning."
"Oh I can manage." He said.
"Nonsense." I replied. "One last excuse to visit my old room."
"Okay." He conceded with a laugh.
We went in and climbed the stairs, and once in the room I noticed his overnight bag on the bed. I grabbed it so I could put it aside and my eye caught the cover of a magazine inside.
The title was 'College Cunts'. There were other magazines underneath it. Apparently one last night of solitude was going to include some cock stroking.
I set the bag aside and made no comment. No need to embarrass him.
"You get that end and I'll get this one." I said, grabbing the base of the rollaway.
It didn't take the two of us long to get it downstairs, but as we put it in the living room we heard a loud crash of thunder outside that shook the whole house.
"Wow." I said. "That sounded like the end of the world."
"Maybe the end of you driving home tonight." He said, looking out the window. "It's about to storm!"
In the time it took me to get to the window there was another crash of thunder and a bolt of lightning that lit the sky.
"Shit." I said. "At least I have a change of clothes in the car."
"Go now!" he said. "Grab them before the rain starts. I'm getting my cooler from the truck."
We dashed out the door, and before we were off the porch the rain began to pour down in heavy sheets. By the time my backpack and his small cooler were back in the empty house we were soaked from head to toe.
"One last memory." I laughed at him, dripping on the kitchen floor.
"Keep laughing." He said. "There's only enough bed for one of us, but at least we have a few beers."
