When my eyes opened the next morning I actually forgot where I was. It's always like that in hotel rooms. I wake up, think I'm home, and then have a strange sense of being out of place and confused.
It was like that... only this time, instead of remembering where I was I remembered who I was with and what we had done.
I looked at the empty spot on the bed next to me. Amy was gone. I could see the imprint she'd left in the sheets.
It all came rushing back. Amy on top of me. Her moans. The way she felt. She way she'd moved. The fact that I'd....
Oh god.
I looked at my phone. There were no messages. Where had she gone? The bathroom was dark and silent. Had she left? Please let her be okay.
A storm of thoughts made it hard to think. It was a mix of Amy's half-naked body writhing on top of me... of my daughter's body milking my cock when I came... and also where she was and what she was thinking. What if she was so upset that she called her mom?
I got up and pulled on some clothes. I even had a hard time doing that. I grabbed my phone again. Still nothing. Maybe I should text her?
Before my fingers could even work the door opened and Amy walked in.
"Hey," she smiled. She was dressed in yoga pants and a light hoodie. "I grabbed us some coffee."
Oh thank god! I searched her for some sign that she was upset, or had been crying, or was something other than what she appeared to be... just a normal twenty-something woman grabbing coffee for her and her father. Not a twenty-something woman who'd fucked her dad just a few short hours before.
"Thanks," I stammered and took the cup from her.
She glanced at her watch. "Better get moving. I have a conference call at 3."
She'd told me about it the day before and I'd forgotten. Her job at the paper allowed her to work from home most of the time. It was why she was able to come come with me for this little trip to the city.
We sipped our coffee and packed. Nothing was said. At least nothing about what we'd done. She excused herself for a few minutes to call in to work, but other than that the minutes between waking up and checking out were uneventful. The entire time I studied her. Waiting for her to shoot me some sort of knowing glance or far-off troubled gaze. I got nothing. It was as if it had never happened.
Had it? I was even beginning to doubt myself. I'd had realistic dreams before but never anything like that and never with my daughter in the starring role.
After checkout we stood together on the sidewalk and waited for the car to brought around by the hotel valet.
Amy was looking at her phone and I almost asked her if she was ok. But I didn't dare to. I was a coward. What if she said 'no'? What of she said that once we'd put the weekend behind us she never wanted to see me again?
Or what if I'd imagined the entire thing.
We drove in relative silence. This wasn't unusual as we typically did. Amy busied herself with work and answering emails and I followed the directions given by the GPS. It started to rain which made driving slow but soon enough we were only 30 minutes from home. Once we were there life would resume. At least that's what I hoped. Amy and her mom weren't always the closest and her mom hadn't really been as supportive as she could have been when it came to Amy's divorce. She'd really liked her ex. I, on the other hand, always felt our daughter could do much better. Then of course he'd cheated on her and I was proven right. Her mom had been of the mind that Amy should drag Dan to counseling and work on their marriage. Divorce was the last resort in her mind. I was the one who told Amy she could stay with us as long as she needed to. I never really understood their rivalry.
What was I going to do? I couldn't get my mind off of what we'd done. A part of me wondered if Amy had been too tipsy. What if I'd misjudged how much she'd had to drink? What if she'd blacked out? It would almost make sense. Why else would she have.... I tried not to think about it.
As we drew closer to our neighborhood she put her phone away and shifted uncomfortable in her seat.
"Are we almost home?" She asked, trying to see through the rain splattered window.
"Yep. Are you ok?"
"Yeah." She shifted again. "I think you're leaking out of me."
I almost went off the road. I shot a quick glance at her but she didn't look my way. She shifted again. It was the first thing she'd said to acknowledge what had happened.
"Um.... Amy...I..."
"When we get home I need to run to the bathroom and change ok?"
She glanced at me and all I could do was nod.
The next few hours were a blur. My wife, Tina, made dinner for us but it hardly registered. All I could think about was Amy. Even though she sat across from me at dinner I couldn't read her. She smiled, talked, and acted normal, but I didn't understand how. Tina asked me if I was feeling ok and I stammered something about feeling tired. Amy made a joke that I needed to get more sleep. It was a relief to hear her laugh but I was confused.
After dinner Tina and I settled down in the living room to watch a movie and Amy excused herself saying she had work to do. She kissed us both on the cheek and left the kitchen. As she walked away I thought about the last kiss she had given me... it had been on my bare shoulder after I'd made love to her....
Two hours later I was alone. Tina had gone to bed and I numbly watched a documentary that I couldn't pay attention to. I wondered if Amy was awake and what she was thinking. I couldn't stand it. So I pulled my phone out and texted her.
ME: Hey.
