Do you know the story of Adonis? Let me give you a brief synopsis, if you've forgotten. Adonis was born of a tree, that had become his mother. His mother had an incestuous passion for her father and with the help of a maid made love with him. The maid, getting the king drunk off of wine, helped sneak Adonis' mother into the room several times in the cover of night. When the king's curiosity got the better of him, and he wanted to know exactly who this young girl was, he found out that it was his daughter. He was so angry that he decided to kill his daughter, and again in the cover of night, she ran away. She ran through many cities and countries before praying and begging to the gods to save her. The gods felt bad for her and they turned her into a tree, and ten months later Adonis burst from that tree, the product of the incestuous relationship. He was Aphrodite's lover until he died trying to kill a boar.
My story isn't that of Adonis. I wasn't born of a tree, nor have I ever tried to kill a wild boar, but that of his mother, Smyrna. I start with Adonis, only because I find his story much more interesting. Things are not very interesting after you've been turned into a tree, or at least that's my opinion. Some might say that it might be very interesting to be a tree, but I veer from my point.
No, my father has never tried to kill me, nor have I ever got him drunk with the help of a maid; I speak in terms of the fact that I have an undying desire to be with my father. I ran far away, off to college to try and get the want to go away. When I was with my father, I couldn't help but to make him notice me. I promenaded around the house in the shortest skirts possible, the tightest most revealing shirts possible, and I know he noticed me. I'd hear him grunt when I walked into the room, and that pleased sound only made it worse. I had fantasies constantly of sitting in his lap and feeling his hard cock press against me, and feeling his hands pet me. I was in a constant state of arousal I masturbated on a continuous basis, just to try to calm myself down.
So, in the end, I left. No, I never went praying to any god or gods to save me. So, maybe my story isn't exactly like Smyrna's, but I like to think it is only because it sounds romantic to think of oneself in such ways. I did, though, throw myself into school. I took tons of classes, and worked my ass off to drive away the thoughts. I never called home. I never talked with my father in the four years I was away, and it seemed to help. The passion slowly faded, and stayed some where in the back of my mind. But I began to miss my home, and I began to miss my father, in a daughterly fashion. Plus, I felt bad for never returning his calls, or seeing him. I began to wonder if he thought I hated him. I didn't at all, I just had to get this thing to go away.
When I did return home, I felt happy just looking at the old place. I opened the door and sighed as all the familiar sights and smells came rushing to me. I put my stuff down and began to walk around the house yelling.
"Daddy! Dad? Are ya home? Oh Daddy, I'm back!"
I heard a door open loudly from upstairs and pounding footsteps on the hallway floor. I watched as Dad ran down the stairs, and I smiled as I saw how happy he was. "Oh my god! Jess! I've been so worried! I can't believe you've not spoken to me, or come home in so long!"
His happy expression turned into one of anger and hurt and I felt so bad.
"I know Daddy. I'm so sorry. There are reasons why I did what I did."
"Are you going to explain?"
"I don't think I can. At least not yet. Maybe in time."
He nodded and sighed, "alright. Well come on. Tell me what you've been up to."
We went into the kitchen and I made us both some lunch. I was happy that Daddy was willing to forget what I had done to him; and I began to drone on about the last four years. I let him know that I planned to stay, having now a degree in education, I was going to apply to some school districts in the area as soon as I was settled in. He seemed proud of me and said nothing to interrupt as I went on. When I was finished, we sat in silence for a while, and I watched him eat the sandwich that I had made for him. He finally nodded and broke the silence.
"You're more than welcome to stay here for as long as you need to. You know that, right?"
"Yes Daddy. I have money saved for a down deposit on an apartment, but I would like to stay here until I'm secure in a job."
"Of course honey. Your room is still exactly the way you left it. It probably needs some dusting and all of that. I'm not a good housekeeper."
He winked at me and I laughed.
"That's alright, I'm pretty good at cleaning house."
He nodded and patted my hand. We sat in silence for a while longer. I studied him. He hadn't changed much in the four years I had been gone. He was still an overly handsome man. His thick dark brown hair had begun to gray at the temples, which I thought looked distinguished and very sexy. His dark brown eyes were still beautiful, holding in them his intelligence and power. His mouth with its thin firm lips still looked enticing to me. The way he held is mouth in an authoritative fashion, always ready to give orders and always ready to put down someone for questioning him, made me want to kiss it. His tall, lean, hard body made me want to touch it. I wanted to know how his strong arms would feel around me. I wanted to know how his muscular chest would feel pressed against my soft full breasts.
I was snapped out of my thinking by the sound of his voice. "Jessi. Hello? Any one home?"
"Yes, sorry, guess I was lost in thought."
"Hmm. Well, I asked if you could make some coffee."
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
I jumped up and went to the coffee pot. I yelled at myself for diving right back into the same old thoughts. I guess staying away so long hadn't cured me. I just hoped that it didn't make it worse. I made the coffee, and took a cup of it up to my room. I changed into a pair of jogging pants and a tee shirt so that I could clean. I tied a bandanna around my head to keep my red locks from getting in my way. I looked around, not knowing exactly where to start. Daddy was right, it was just the way I had left it. There were stuffed animals covering chairs and the bed, and other little girl things all around. I shook my head and went back out of the room. I caught Dad coming around the corner.
"Do we have any boxes?"
"No."
"Trash bags still in the same place?"
"Yeah, why?"
"I'm going to pack up all those stuff animals and things and give them to Goodwill."
"Why?"
"Daddy, if you've not noticed, I'm not a little girl anymore."
I put my hands on my hips and opened my big blue eyes wider for emphasis.
"I know that. But some of those things are special."
He looked hurt, and I knew why. Some of those animals were given to me by mother before she passed.
"I know Daddy. I'm not going to get rid of all of them. Just the ones that hold no real value anymore. Okay?"
He seemed content with that, and I went off to collect trash bags. It took me nearly all day to finish cleaning the room, between stuffed animals, toys, and clothing I had ten trash bags neatly filled with things. I brought them all downstairs and set them by the front door. I went looking for Daddy but couldn't find him, and scribbled a note to tell him that I was off to the Goodwill store to drop the stuff off. When I came back, I found Dad laying on his stomach on my bed. I laid down beside him, and looked at the stuffed monkey he had in his hands.
"I'm really glad you kept this one Jessi."
"Really? I can't quite remember anything about it, but it seemed like something I should keep."
"I won this for you at a State fair. You were just a little girl then, around six, I think. And you were so happy. You carried it around forever, showing anyone you met the monkey. You called him Charley, and boasted about how you're Daddy won it for you."
I laughed, "Yeah, I remember now. I got so mad at grandpa cause he kept calling the monkey Curious George. I'm glad I kept it now."
Daddy turned over onto his side and grabbed my chin between two of his fingers. He turned my head his way and smiled.
"I'm glad you're back. I've missed you."
"I've missed you too Daddy."
He put his arm around me and hugged me. I felt my body give in. I began to throb in places daughters shouldn't throb in the presence of their father. I broke the hug and smiled.
"I'm going to shower and change, and then I'll make us some dinner."
"That sounds great."
He got up and left the room, but not without a long look at me.
I dove into finding a job, the thoughts had come back, and they were worse than before. I couldn't stop thinking about him. My passions had doubled upon my return, and I didn't know how to handle them. I thought at least I knew how to masturbate better. I started avoiding Daddy as much as possible. I knew he noticed, he looked at me sadly when our paths crossed. I felt bad, but I had to stay away from him as much as possible. I decided that to make it easier on me, I'd get an apartment. I had the money for the deposit and enough saved for rent and utilities if it took me longer to find a job than I thought it would. I brought the matter up after dinner one night. After I had picked out and applied for an apartment in the city.
"Hey, Dad, I have something to tell you."
"Oh so you're finally going to speak to me."
I sighed, shook my head, and ignored his statement.
"Look, I'm going to be moving out. I found an apartment, and I've put in the application."
He took in a measured deep breath, as though I had smacked him and he didn't know quite how to handle it. He looked at me, his deep brown eyes sad and angry.
"Do you not like me?"
"What? I like you. You're my father."
"You don't want to be around me. You won't speak to me. You've been here a little over a month, haven't gotten a job like you said you were going to before moving, and now you tell me you're going to leave me again."
"Dad, I just think I need to be on my own."
"I don't see why you can't stay with me."
"I just can't okay!"
"For the same reasons that you left me before?"
Our voices started raising as the conversation continued.
"Yes! So, I have to leave!"
"What are they? What are these fucking reasons or are you just making excuses!"
"No, I'm not making excuses. There are reasons and I'd rather not go into them!"
"You tell me now! I'm your father, and I refuse to be disrespected by my own daughter!"
