26

But he was still tugging his arm against my restraining grip. I finally let go of his wrist and his finger slid easily out of my vagina. Panting heavily, I squeezed my eyes shut. My entire body was a tingling, writhing mass of arousal. I had been right on the brink of release!

Despite my extreme frustration, I sighed and said, "Oh daddy. You're being too moral about this." The second the words were past my lips, I realized just how strongly I believed them. My father was being too moral. And, more importantly, I realized that my own concept of right and wrong had shifted. I no longer felt like it was wrong to want my father. But how was I to get him to see it that way, too?

We didn't talk anymore after that and I didn't do anything physical with him. I just laid beside him until I could tell he had fallen asleep. I was alone with my thoughts for over an hour. I felt like that had been the most progress we had made yet. I was frustrated, but it dissipated as I lay there. By the time I finally fell asleep, my previous resolution was completely dissolved and replaced by a new one.

I was determined to get my father to see things the way I did.

[Suspicious.]

That Friday, my sisters wanted to watch a movie together "as a family". My dad and I agreed, of course. After dinner, we all changed into our pajamas and then we settled into the living room. I sat on the end of the couch, right next to my dad's recliner. My two sisters were at the other end of the couch, snuggled together under a blanket. Dad turned the lights out and started a new action-comedy movie with Ryan Reynolds that came out a couple months ago that none of us had seen.

My thoughts were too busy to pay much attention to the movie. My sisters were talking quietly, so they didn't seem very interested, either. But that also meant they weren't paying attention to me. My dad seemed to be the only one actually watching the movie. I decided to try to talk to him anyway.

"Daddy?" I whispered, leaning on the arm of the couch so my face was only a couple feet away from him.

He turned toward me, glancing over my head to look at my sisters briefly before focusing on me again. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Can I ask you something?" I said quietly. He frowned at me but nodded. I glanced toward my sisters to see if they were looking but they were both staring at their phones. Turning back toward my dad, I lowered my voice anyway as I asked, "Do you feel ashamed?" I knew he knew what I was talking about.

His frown deepened and his eyebrows furrowed. He opened his mouth and then closed it, then looked away from me, staring at the tv. I waited patiently, my stomach filling with dread. I didn't want him to feel ashamed. Finally, he turned toward me again and whispered, "Not exactly, no."

"Not exactly?" I asked. Then I added, "What then?"

He shrugged, shifting in the chair uncomfortably. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts. He looked over at my sisters again and then back to me before whispering, "I don't even know how to describe it, Gracie. It's just... wrong."

"Says who?" I whispered back, trying to keep the heat that I felt out of my voice. I didn't want my sisters to hear us.

My father lifted his shoulders and his hands and then growled, "I don't know. Everybody?"

I rolled my eyes at him. Then I tried to whisper but my heated words made it a little louder than that, "Yeah? Well 'everybody' is like saying 'they say'. But who the hell are 'they'? There's no rule book about it."

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes at me. When he answered me, he sounded irritated. He did manage to keep his voice at a whisper, though, "Actually there is. There are laws against it."

"Pffff," I made a vexed sound. Pulling myself a little more onto the arm of the chair to get closer to him, I spoke quietly, "I don't care about some stupid law. Those were probably made hundreds of years ago."

Dad looked at me and his eyes flicked up over my head. Then he whipped his head back toward the tv and stared at it like he was watching the movie. I couldn't help it, so I glanced over my shoulder and found Monica staring at me. Her expression was blank, but she was clearly looking at me and dad. Had she heard anything we said?

I waited a few minutes, acting like I was watching the movie again. Then, after checking to make sure both of my sisters were preoccupied again, I whispered to my dad without turning my head toward him, "I don't care what anyone else thinks."

He didn't answer me right away, but I could tell he was stewing on my words, mulling them over. Finally he leaned closer to me and whispered back, "It's wrong for me to feel this way."

"What way?" I asked, not quite whispering.

He turned toward me and looked me hard in the eyes and then turned back toward the movie without saying anything. I guess I didn't really need him to answer my question. I knew what he meant. So instead, I turned so both my elbows were on the arm of the couch and leaned forward. I felt my small breasts squishing against my arms. I craned my neck over the couch and got really close to my dad's face.

Then I whispered, "Do you think it's wrong that I feel the same way?"

He slowly turned his head toward me. Our faces were six inches apart. I could feel his warm breath on my chin. I held myself there, staring at him. Finally, he cleared his throat and pushed himself up off the chair, twisting his torso so he didn't bump into me. When his weight was off the recliner, it rocked backward and almost made me fall off the side of the couch. I pulled myself back into my seat and stared up at my father. He wasn't looking at me, but at my sisters instead.

"I'm heading to bed, girls. Make sure you brush your teeth before you get into bed, ok?" he said to them.

"Ok," Ally responded. Monica didn't answer him.

I stared longingly at my dad as he walked down the hall. When he got to his bedroom door, he turned toward me and held my gaze for a few seconds before disappearing into his room. I sighed, closing my eyes briefly. Opening them again, I turned to look at my sisters and froze.

Monica was staring at me, frowning. What was she thinking about? Did she hear some of our conversation? She was a smart girl. I probably shouldn't have had this particular conversation with my dad with the two of them in the same room.

When I stood, my legs were both asleep and I almost fell. Stumbling across the living room and trying to work feeling back into them, I told my sisters goodnight and walked through the kitchen to the basement door. When I opened it, I looked toward the living room again. Really, I was looking past that, down the hall toward my father's room. But I noticed Monica staring at me, so I gave her a small smile and then headed downstairs.

[Surrender.]

When I reached my bed and climbed into it, despair hit me. I started sobbing in my bed as I lay there, unable to stop the tears from streaming down my face. It went on for the better part of an hour before I stopped. That left me with a blaring headache that seemed to throb at both my temples at once.