An Officer and a Gentle Dad

I'd like to thank ngnx for his wonderful suggestions and editing. He makes my writing better and more fun for me to do.

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Melanie is an 18-year-old college student who has given her virginity to her father, a Navy SEAL. Melanie has a lot to learn about love and sex. Her dad is happy to teach her.

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1.

Saturday Morning

I don't know who's panting harder—dad or me. It has become a competition. We share genes. We're both determined to win.

"Dad, you're wheezing." I tease him. "Do you want to slow down?"

"Actually, baby, you're sweating so hard you're a salt lick."

"You would know what I taste like."

He flashes me a naughty look out of the corner of his eye. "I would. Delicious."

I don't want to admit it, but I'm having a hard time keeping up. He might have twenty years on me, but he keeps in great shape from his training as a SEAL.

But I also hear him panting.

We've been at it for two hours. I'm getting tired. And hungry. And sore. "How about we slow down before our final push?"

He flicks a stream of sweat off his forehead. "You can't keep up with me?"

I love a good challenge. "Dad, you know I always come with you."

My innuendo catches him up short. He falters a step.

I take off like a rocket, pivoting my hips hard and fast. I narrow my vision to my goal. My breath accelerates with my pace. I'm so close, there is no way he can come first.

I hit the straightaway and kept my eyes on the prize. Seconds from my goal, I give it one last push. I'm jubilant as I hit my target. I slow down and enjoy the feeling of my muscles loosening, my body surrendering to the bliss of triumph.

Dad and I both love to win, and we are always thinking of ways to compete. Some of the ways are more fun than others. The ones that end with us sweaty, blissed out, and spent are the best.

Not far behind me, he puts his hand up to high-five me. "Great run, sport."

We stretch. It was a long run. We're both exhausted. And I'm cranky.

"High-five? 'Sport'? Dad, we're lovers, not teammates."

He lowers his voice. "Baby, not here. Not outside the house."

"We're in our own driveway."

"The neighbors could come out and hear."

I know I'm pouting, but I can't help myself. "I love you. I'm sick of having to hide that."

"Me too. We'll figure something out."

I cock my fist on my hip in frustration. "You keep saying that."

"Give me until I retire to figure something out?"

"Isn't that forever away?"

Dad smooths his palms down my arms, smoothing out my emotions. "A few months. We'll work it out."

He knows how to make me happy. "I'm done stretching. Let's go in the house so we can engage in private PDA."

He grins. "You got it, sport."

"Stop."

Since dad and I became lovers, I'm not the same Melanie. I'm a woman in love with her father, so grateful I was able to share the gift of my virginity with the man I love.

When we get in the house, he wraps his sweaty arms around me and buries his lips in my neck. "I wish we could do this anywhere."

He carries me to the sofa and sits with me straddling his lap. Inhaling my post-workout scent, he sighs like he's sniffing the finest perfume. "It's still early. What would you like to do today?"

Smiling and licking his salty neck, I grind my hips into his developing erection. "The same thing we do every day."

"We're going to save that for tonight."

"Tonight's great. But we don't have to wait for the sun to go down."

He sighs so hard it puffs out a lock of my hair. "Do you remember what we did last weekend?"

"No."

"We stayed in. What about the weekend before that?"

"I can't remember."

"We stayed in. How about before that?"

"I'm guessing we stayed in."

"That's right. Don't get me wrong, I could stay home every day and make love with you all day long."

"Me too. Perfect. Let's do it."

"Hang on. I think we should do something else. Since you're not from here, I'd like to show you some sights."

"Like your bedroom? And your bare chest?" I run a hand down to his pecs. "Those are nice sights."

"You're impossible."

"No, I'm in love."

"So am I. Which is why I insist on dragging you out. We're going to spend the day in a town called Temecula, then we'll have the whole night and all day tomorrow to make love."

"But—"

"Stop pouting. Go get dressed."

2. Temecula

With traffic, it takes two hours to get to Temecula. As much as I wanted to stay home in bed all day, I appreciate the time to talk with dad without the distraction of pawing and mauling each other.

He wants to know how my classes are going.

"Astronomy 101 is kicking my butt—the subject is tough and the teacher drones on and on. Plus I don't know what it has to do with nursing."

"Would you believe it might come in handy when you have kids?"

"You mean when we have kids."

He frowns. "I need a little time on that."

"Sorry to push it. You know how I feel. And I promise I'd still get my nursing degree after we have children."

"Baby, slow down."

"OK. But seriously, how is astronomy ever going to help me?"

"When you were little, you and I used to sit outside after your bedtime and look at the stars. I didn't know a lot about astronomy, but the little bit I did I loved sharing with you."

"I don't remember that."

"You were little. There's probably a lot you don't recall. But I do, and it meant a lot to me."

I turn to gaze at his profile. "Sometimes I wish I had grown up with you the whole time. But if you and mom hadn't divorced, then you and I wouldn't be together. And I wouldn't trade us for the world."

"I feel the same."

"Thanks, Dad."

He rests his hand on my thigh. "So what about your other subjects?"

"Introduction to Anatomy is going well, thank goodness, since I'll need that for nursing."

He winks at me. "Plus I can help you study certain parts of your anatomy."

I reach over and punch him on the shoulder. "Stop."

"Just offering."

"Back to my classes—Introduction to Statistics is killing me. It's required for nursing, and I still haven't figured out why."

"That doesn't make sense to me either."

"Luckily, Sociology is fun. Never thought I'd say that about a college class."

"Sounds like a mixed bag. Let me know if I can help."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Speaking of 'Dad,' that's something I wanted to talk to you about. One of the reasons I want to take you to Temecula is we won't run in to anyone we know. We can hold hands and act how we feel. But that means you can't call me 'Dad' up there. When we're not in San Diego, you need to call me 'Chris.'"

I giggle. "'Chris'—that sounds funny."

"You don't like my name? Thanks."

"You know what I mean. You've been 'Dad' for eighteen years."

"Well, sweetheart, I'm the man who shares your bed. You need to call me 'Chris.'"

"OK, I'll try to get used to it—Chris."

"Also, when we're together, you're twenty-one. I can't be a thirty-eight-year-old man running around with an eighteen-year-old."

"But, Dad—"

"Chris."

"Chris, you look young."

He rolls his eyes at me. "Not that young. Plus, Temecula is known for its wineries, and I'd like to take you to one or two. I want you to feel comfortable having a few sips if you'd like."

"That sounds like a blast. What else is there?"

"There's an old town area. It has wooden boardwalks and western-looking store fronts. And things I know you'd love to check out, like boutiques..."

"This sounds great. I'm so excited."

"And I don't know about you, but that protein bar has worn off. I'm getting hungry. And perfect timing—we're there."

***

We find a quaint restaurant in the downtown area. It serves all the food I love to eat—salads, sandwiches with whole grain bread, quinoa bowls. Dad would rather have a burger and fries, or a steak and potatoes, but he makes clear that this trip is for me. If I want tofu, we're eating tofu.

As we're wandering around after lunch, he agrees to go into as many antique stores and boutiques as my heart desires. Realizing we're free from the shackles of prying eyes, I throw my arms around him and kiss him square on the lips.

"Thank you, Da—Chris."

He grins at me and extends the hug, his hand at my lower back pressing me closer. We spend the rest of the day touching—holding hands, rubbing backs, stealing kisses when we think no one is looking. We look like May-December, but all we feel is love.

After several hours of perusing stores and wasting dad's money on quirky cards, a hand-made wallet, and a Temecula fridge magnet, dad announces that it's time to check out the wineries.

At the first winery, the salesperson tells us about each wine before we taste it. Dad and I nod knowingly, sip the samples with confidence, and even purchase a couple bottles. When we get to the truck, we laugh at ourselves. We know that there are red wines and white ones, and that's about it.

We go to the next winery, enjoying the perfect day as the green vines of the vineyards shimmer against the blue sky. We sample a terrible wine and develop an appreciation for the better ones.

On the way out, I notice a rack of pamphlets advertising local events. One is for cabins near Temecula. It's gorgeous there, and a weekend hiking and making love in a different bed would be fun. Plus dad loves being outside; he took me to Big Bear for a long weekend before he went on TAD. We could both use more time in nature.

He calls me by my first name, and I miss hearing his terms of endearment. "Melanie, what did you find?"

"It's an ad for cabins near here. How much fun would that be?"

"That would be great. Take that with us. Maybe we'll go sometime."

"Yay!" Maybe there will be more sex under the stars again.

He suggests we hit one more winery as the sun is setting. This one has a patio overlooking the vineyard. When I complain I'm chilled, he pulls my chair over and wraps his muscular arm around my shoulders. He leans down and kisses my cheek before whispering in my ear.

"Here, we get to be lovers."

I try his name on my lips. "I love you, Chris."

"I love you too, Melanie."

We order flights of sparkling wines. It feels like we're toasting ourselves with champagne, and we come up with the cheesiest toasts.

"To the man whose sexy chest hairs tickle my nose."

"To the woman who can outrun her old man."

I lift my glass with a grin. "I'll drink to that."

"I figured you would."

"To the man who makes me feel safe and secure just by being who he is."

He gets a naughty look on his face. "To the woman who makes me horny as hell."

"Hey, you can't say that."

He smirks. "Why not?"

"We're in a public place."

"So? I didn't yell it."

"To the man who pointed out the constellations to me when I was a kid, and will someday point them out to our children." I know I'm pushing it, but I'm buzzed, and I need to know his thoughts on the issue.

Dad takes a deep breath. "Melanie, do you want to talk about this now, here, while we're relaxing and enjoying the sunset and the wine?"

"Yes. I wanted to talk about it weeks ago. You keep dodging it."

"OK. I want to have children with you. No question about that. The question is when. We can't do that while people know who we are, and I need time to work that out. We've been playing with fire by not using protection. Can you go on the pill until we figure things out?"

I'm grinning like a fool. All I heard was, He wants me to have his babies! "Sure, Dad—"

"Chris, baby, Chris."

"I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you need. I'm excited you feel the same."

He pulls me closer and squeezes my hand. "I do. If it was up to me, we'd go home and start now."

"Nothing's stopping us from practicing."

"Exactly."

When we leave the last winery, I discover I've drunk too much. I don't normally drink, and we've been knocking it back all evening. We're the last to leave, so we have the parking lot to ourselves. As soon as we get in the truck, I'm all over him.

I lean over, grab his head, and pull his lips to mine. I'm like a bear that's been cage and starving for meat. While I'm sucking his tongue, I reach across to rub along his zipper. He's trying to maintain composure. Tilting his head back, he stills my hand on his groin.

"Baby, stop."

"Come on, Dad, there's no one around."

"It doesn't matter. I'm sorry, I let you have too much wine. I would feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

"No, you're not. I want to be with you."

"Sweetheart, I can't do that."

"At least let me rub you. I need to touch you. I can make you feel good."

"I know you can. And we'll save it for home."

"But that's two hours from now."

"Exactly. We'll get you food and you'll be sober by then."

His will is stronger than mine. At that moment, there is one adult in the truck, and it isn't me. I know when I'm losing a fight with my dad.

I move over and cross my arms over my chest. "Fine. But I might not be in the mood when we get home."

He knows me better than that. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him smirking. "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

We drive in silence for five minutes, then I fall asleep and drool on my shoulder the rest of the way home.

3. Jake's

I wake up when the truck comes to a stop. I look out the window, and we're not home.

"Where are we?"

"We don't have any groceries in the house, and we need to eat. I figured we'd stop at Jake's."

Jake's is packed. It's in Poway, which has spectacular vistas of the mountains. Jake's owner is former military and has a soft spot for service personnel. He helps us get two stools at the bar. Dad orders a heart attack special to make up for our morning run—two cheeseburgers, a huge platter of onion rings, and two IPAs.

"Dad, you always forget I can't drink."

"I'm sorry. After the wine today, I was taking it for granted." He drags his hand over his face. "You don't have to drink the beer. Want me to order you a soda?"

"No, this is fine. I like beer. It's funny that you always get it for me."

He whispers with a wink, "I'm trying to get you drunk."

I bring my lips to his ear. "It takes a lot less than that for you to take advantage of me."

"You promise?"

I nod my head, a big grin etched on my lips.

"Are you excited for your retirement?" I ask while we're waiting for the burgers.

"It won't be easy to leave the SEALs. I worked hard to get where I am. But I've been doing it for years. It's time for something new."

"What are you going to do?"

"I have a buddy who's looking for someone to run his security company. That would be a natural fit with my skills. I could also do contract work, but the hours are less predictable."

As I'm trying to focus on what dad's telling me, I realize the wine is still effecting me. And the beer on my empty stomach is knocking down my inhibitions. I lean my head on dad's shoulder and put my hand on his thigh. "I'm so glad you'll be with me all the time."

He puts his hand on mine. I read his signal wrong and move my hand north, toward his groin. He's a big guy, and it doesn't take long to reach his dick. "Melanie, what are you doing?"

I slide my head down to nuzzle his chest. He's all muscle, all man. "What?"

"You can't touch me like this in public."

"Why not? Aren't we lovers?"

"You're my daughter. If we see someone we know, this would look weird."

I lift my head from his chest but rub my hand over his zipper. "How about I make you feel good down here? No one can see my hand under the bar."

He takes my wrist and moves my hand to the bar. "We can't take any chances. No more beer for you."

The burgers arrive, and we eat at record speed. We're both uncomfortable with our inability to express ourselves at Jake's, and ready to get home and share our love—more precisely, share our bodies.

As we're finishing our meals, he brings up something he's been holding back all day. "I'm being sent on TAD again."

"What? You just got back from TAD."

"I know, but this is what I signed up for when I became a SEAL."

"How long will it be?"

"It could be one to nine months, but most likely three to six months."

I fight the tears in my eyes. "I don't know if I can take you being gone again. I love you. I want you with me. All the time."

Stoically, he says, "I know. I feel the same way. But this is the last one. After this, we get to be together every day, every night, forever."

"Why do you always know how to make everything better?"

"I say what I believe. I'm glad it makes you feel better."

Jake catches us on the way out the door. "Did I hear you say you're going on TAD?"

Dad nods. "Yeah, you know how it goes."

Jakes shakes my dad's hand. "It's been a long time for me. Proud to know there are still guys like you fighting the good fight."

"Thanks, man. And thanks for your service, too."

"When you get back," Jake insists, "come see me. The next burgers for you and your sweetheart here are on me."

Dad looks sick when Jake refers to me as his sweetheart. I'm glowing, but trying to hide it.

When we get to the truck, dad holds the door for me but slams it once I'm in. I'm sure he's uncomfortable that Jake saw us for who we are. We're not going to be able to hide it much longer. And I don't want to.

4. Sprouting Wings

On the way home, dad's mood changes. We're no longer in public so he's comfortable sharing our intimacy. Rubbing my thigh, he eases the hem of my dress up to my panty line. I look over at him in shock, and he flashes me a wicked grin. He teases his fingertips along the soft skin at the edge of my underwear, then pushes it aside to make room for him. I'm wet with desire, my slickness guiding the way for his needy finger.

He penetrates me like I was craving in the bar, am yearning for now, and seek every time I'm around him. He pushes in to his knuckle and pulls out until I feel empty and want him to probe me again. His one finger fills me to the brim, and I wonder how I have ever taken his entire manhood.

Pulling his finger out of me, he brings it to my mouth.

"Suck it for me."

"What?"

"Suck your juices off my finger. Taste yourself."

"Dad, I don't know—"

"There's so much you'd love to experience. We need to nudge you out of your comfort zone. This is a baby step. Taste yourself."

I can smell myself on his finger—not quite as strong as the sharp metallic odor I get after a hard run. But I haven't showered since this morning, so my scent has built up and lingers.

I ease out the tip of my tongue and close my eyes. His truck hits a bump and his finger lands square in my mouth. My taste washes over me—I taste like I smell, but more primal. Yanking my tongue back in my mouth, I cut my eyes at dad. I think the extra flavor is my desire for him, my near-desperate need to take him inside me.

When we get home, the house door isn't quite shut when dad cradles my face in his big hands and presses his lips into mine. He slides my mouth open with his, nibbles my bottom lip, and sucks in hard until my tongue is pulled into him. I moan when he opens my mouth, then again when he runs his hand through my hair then down my ear. I arch my back when he brings his lips down to my collarbone and dips his tongue in the hollow of my neck. Fondling my breasts with a needy hand, he teases my nipples into firm pink berries. With his every touch, liquid need pools between my legs.

My knees buckle. I fall into him like a lovesick school girl.

He scoops me up like I'm his bride—one arm under my knees, one arm under my shoulders—and carries me to our bed.

"Let's push your limits a little more."

"I don't know if I'm ready. I was a virgin until a couple weeks ago."

"I know, baby, that's why we'll take it slow."

"I trust you."

"Let's do things we've already done—I want to go down on you, I want to make love with you—but from different positions."