Father/daughter incest, a little slow to get started.
The August heat wave was the least of Arthur's troubles. His house was like an oven, true, but his daughter Karen made him sweat more. His wife had died when Karen was only ten. He had tried to raise her as best he could on his own, but she was a rebellious child. At seventeen she had run off and gotten married to a man over twice her age. Now nineteen, she was recently divorced and had moved back into her father's house, still determined to do whatever she wanted.
Clothing was currently the big issue. Karen refused to dress decently around the house. Her entire costume since the onset of summer's annual broil consisted of a t-shirt or tank top and a pair of panties. Arthur tried to get his daughter to dress with more modesty without putting too fine a point on the issue. It embarrassed him to say he could see his daughter's nipples through her shirt, which incidentally wasn't long enough to cover the curve of her bottom or the mound of her crotch. Karen's panties were also small and quite tight, sufficiently so to outline the lips of her obviously clean-shaven vagina. Arthur's wife had started shaving her own pubes on their first wedding anniversary as a lark. She had kept her pussy all bare after she discovered how much it excited him. Seeing obvious daily evidence that his daughter also picked up the shaving habit caused guilty stirrings of arousal in him.
Arthur was ashamed to say that he liked looking at his daughter's body, that she was as beautiful and sexy as her mother had ever been, that his own daughter was exciting him. So instead he simply asked her to put some clothes on.
"It's too hot," she responded without taking her eyes off the television news. The weatherman droned on about the extended forecast as more of the same three 'aitches: hazy, hot, and humid. Arthur had set up a couple of box fans to move the heavy air around. They offered some minor relief. Karen had one fan directed on her, blowing her thin blond hair about in the breeze. "If you'd get an air conditioner, the house would be bearable."
"If you'd get a job, you could afford to buy one. Or move out to your own place." He knew where this dance was going. It had happened every night with minor variations.
"You sound just like Vance! Always harping on me!" Or, "I'm grown up! You can't tell me what to do!" Or, "Why are you always on my case?" Any of a handfull other similar responses might come up. These led to the inevitable return lines: "Maybe there was a reason Vance," or, "You certainly don't act like a," or the classic "As long as you live under my." None of these lines ever got finished. Karen would interrupt. Father and daughter would yell back and forth. After a few minutes of this Arthur would find himself glancing at his daughter's chest, mesmerized for an instant by the way her breasts, even so small as they were, could still jiggle hypnotically. He would close his eyes and rub the bridge of his nose, but he could still see her hard nipples pushing out the fabric of her shirt behind his shut eyelids.
Invariably, Arthur retreated in silence to his bedroom, embarrassed and ashamed and angry, without resolving the basic problem.
The heat wave was in its tenth day. Arthur's nerves were brittle. He dreaded going home. As he entered his house, he found his daughter asleep on the couch in front of the television, a talk show going unwatched. A fan blew on her body. Her shoulder length blond hair haloed around her head, almost making her look like a little angel in repose. A lewd angel, anyway.
Karen lay on the couch with her t-shirt bunched up over her breasts and her left hand inside her panties, tightly cupping her vagina. Arthur stood over his daughter, studying her. He looked at her small round face, pixie nose, and full lips so much like her mother's. He watched her little breasts slowly rise and fall with her breath, the nipples pink and hard. He noticed how her hipbones stuck out and cast sexy shadows in the light from the window. Arthur felt a tingle stirring in his loins as his penis began to harden. He saw his daughter's hand slowly moving inside her panties as she rubbed herself in her sleep. He heard her moan softly and saw a slow smile spread over her lips as her hand made deeper movements. Her finger made wet sounds, and the aroma of excited woman drifted into his nose. Arthur stared for long moments, trembling before he retreated embarrassed and ashamed to the bathroom for a cold shower.
For the first time in quite a while, they didn't have an argument. The weatherman promised rain in his forecast. Nothing fell in town.
The next night, Arthur came home to find his front door locked. He unlocked it. He opened it. The television was off. The lights were off.
"Karen?" Arthur called as he walked through the empty rooms. "Karen? Where are you?"
"Dad!" Karen answered from the back yard. "I'm out here!" Arthur took two steps out the back door into the yard and was hit with a blast of water from the garden hose.
"Got you!" Karen yelled.
"What-pu-you-pu-guh," Arthur sputtered in surprise and shock, wiping his eyes dry.
"You want some more?" Karen asked as she squirted her father again without waiting for an answer.
