In my third year of college, I dropped out for a lot of reasons and ended up living with my dad who is a lifelong psychotherapist, though that didn't stop my mother from leaving immediately after I left for college. I always found it odd that my dad had helped so many people with their problems and relationships but could never manage his own. It's weird having a therapist as a father. He promised he never tried to analyze me, but his entire adult life has been spent analyzing and helping people so he can't help but use therapy techniques on me. Our relationship often felt like therapist and patient instead of father and daughter. I can only imagine my mom felt something similar, leading to strain on their marriage. This also made it difficult to bring my problems to him growing up as he would try therapy techniques instead of just being there for me. Still, I love my dad and wouldn't trade him for any dad in the world.
He was more than eager to have me move into his new condo after college. My childhood home had been paid off and was where my mother resided. Regardless of how accommodating your parents are, failing out of college and moving in with your parents is very stressful. I frequently had trouble sleeping but hesitated to talk about my stress and anxiety with my dad. When I did fall asleep, I would have these intensely vivid dreams, often sexual. I never harbored sexual feelings towards a family member, but in these stress dreams, sometimes I would have intense and vivid sexual encounters with my dad. I would wake up with my heart racing and my pussy soaked. Even if my dad wasn't a therapist, I still wouldn't be comfortable telling him about my stress dreams.
One day at breakfast before he left for work, my dad commented on how he heard me in the kitchen late at night after I went to bed. I confided in him that I hadn't been sleeping well. He asked me if I was having bad dreams, and I told him I was but I didn't remember them. My dad said I had been looking tired recently and suspected as much. He offered me some affirmations. Again, it seemed like he had trouble seeing me as his daughter and not a patient, but I was constantly tired at that point and willing to try anything. He gave me a few sentences I should repeat to myself before bed and if I woke up in the night.
"I am a beautiful woman. I love my family, and my family loves me. I can sleep peacefully through the night."
That night I whispered the phrases to myself as I lay in bed. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remembered was a vivid dream. In the dream my dad undressed me and kissed my pussy. Then he fingered me as he sucked my nipple. I could even see his hard cock. I snapped awake and found myself standing naked in the kitchen, my nipples hard, and my pussy soaked. My heart was racing, and my whole body was flush. The memories of the dream were still fresh in my mind. I hurried to the guest bedroom and found my clothes and underwear in the hallway. I must have walked to the kitchen in my sleep.
I was still reticent to confide in my dad, but I needed to warn him I was sleep walking for my own safety. I didn't know how it worked exactly, but I read stories about people leaving their house or driving their car in their sleep. At breakfast that morning I told him what had happened. He said sometimes it came about from stress, and what I had gone through in the past few months must have certainly been stressful. He promised to check on me that night. I asked about sleeping meds, and he said they weren't a great remedy for nightmares or sleep walking.
