A story about a widowed father who had struggled to bring up his daughter alone, and who tried in vain to control his lust for her.
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Chapter One: Consoling Shawn.
The slamming of the front door closing lifted Craig Hermann's head from the pillow, and the sound of footsteps quickly padding up the stairs brought him to an upright position in his bed. Shawn was home. Craig never slept while Shawn was out, at least not what you could really call sleep, but now that Shawn was home Craig usually found that sleep came easier.
Before Craig got too comfortable, he decided to go to the bathroom, and on the way he passed Shawn's room. Craig thought he heard what sounded like sobbing coming from Shawn's room, and after relieving himself and rinsing his hands, stopped outside Shawn's door and listened.
Shawn was crying. Craig could hear the muffled sounds of sobbing coming from inside, and brought his hand up to the wood, pausing a second while debating on whether to knock. He was so bad at things like this, he thought to himself. Times like this were when he missed his late wife Denise most of all; the times that called for a woman's touch. What did he know about 18 year old girls anyway?
The tortured whimpering from inside compelled him to help, or at least make the attempt. It always tore him up inside whenever Shawn was hurting, and it sure seemed like she was hurting now, her voice cracking when she answered his tapping on the door.
"Come in Daddy," Shawn called out, and when Craig entered Shawn was laying on the bed fully dressed, hugging her pillow and looking sad.
"What's wrong baby?" Craig asked, sitting on the bed next to Shawn and putting his hand on her shoulder. "Kevin?"
Kevin was the boy she had been seeing for a few months; a long-haired snowboarding dude that she went to school with. Craig thought that he was a real doofus, and hoped they would never get to serious, because she could do much better than him. Trouble was, no one would ever be good enough for Shawn in his eyes, and he knew it.
"Yep," Shawn said as she looked up at him with reddened eyes and a tear-stained face, biting her lip and nodding.
"It'll work itself out baby," Craig said, resisting the urge to tell her to lose the guy and concentrate on school and the final exams coming up in a couple of months.
"Over," Shawn said, and held up her hand, and in particular the ring finger, now naked. The finger that the cheap ring Kevin had given her a month back was now barren.
"Oh, I'm sorry baby," Craig said, and Shawn spun around and hugged him tightly, letting it all out as her body shook from the force of her sobbing.
No prom, no Kevin, no nothing. That was Shawn's assessment of her life as she choked it out between tears. Craig held Shawn tightly and tried to console her as best he could until she finally regained a little control over her emotions.
Craig looked at Shawn when she lifted her face from her father's shoulder, and his heart skipped a beat, just as it always seemed to do whenever they were close. The spitting image of her mother, Craig thought, especially around the eyes.
Those pale blue eyes, with the smeared eye shadow around them, were the mirror image of her mother's. Shawn's light brown hair was almost the same shade, except that Shawn had frosted hers a little blonde, and the faint aroma of perfume that drifted into his nose together with everything else painted a picture of a little girl trying so hard to be a woman.
A woman. Shawn was a woman now, and that was something that was hard for Craig to comprehend fully. To him right now, Shawn still looked like the little girl learning to ride her first bike. Scared and lonely.
"Sorry I'm such a baby," Shawn sniffled as she looked at him.
"You aren't a baby," Craig said. "It's normal to act that way when you lose someone you love."
"Could you stick around for a while Daddy?" Shawn asked as she got up and went over to her closet, stepping inside the walk-in and turning on the light. "I want to put my jammies on so I'm comfortable like you."
2. In the closet.
Craig was not comfortable, that much was certain. He was flushed and sweating from being held so close and so long by Shawn. Now, as he heard Shawn rustling in her spacious closet, Craig was ashamed that he was wishing he could see through the wall at his daughter undressing.
The mirror. Craig's eyes drifted over to the mirror that hung on the inside of the closet door. There she was. Shawn was in the process of taking off her jeans, and as she bent down to pull them off her legs, her full and round backside strained inside her skimpy white panties.
Shawn had such wonderfully shapely legs, just like her mom did, Craig observed. He could not turn away as Shawn pulled her blouse over her head and reached back to unhook her bra. Craig wished so badly that Shawn would turn around so he could see her breasts, but Shawn kept turned the other way.
Such soft looking white skin Shawn had, and the smattering of freckles on her shoulders and upper back were so cute looking. Shawn pulled her bra off, and tossed it over toward her laundry basket. 34A, Craig thought, and noted that a father should not know such intimate details of his daughter, but he did.
Saw one of her bras in the laundry room, Craig remembered, and was curious, so he had casually glanced at the lacy, slightly padded undergarment. No harm in looking, Craig recalled thinking at the time. Imagining what the breasts that were nestled inside the bra would look like - well there was something a little wrong with that.
Shawn was putting on a short sleeved pajama top, and then pulled down her panties and kicked them off. What a beautiful bottom Shawn had, Craig thought as he saw the gorgeous buttocks of his daughter bared for the first time, the faint creases of where the elastic cut into her were the only marks on them.
Shawn had the pajama shorts in her hand now, and then suddenly she turned around, facing the mirror, and Craig gasped as he saw his daughter naked from the waist down.
Down. That's what it must feel like, Craig thought as his eyes devoured the modest little wisp of light brown hair that guarded her womanhood. Just like mom, Shawn had hardly any pubic hair, and Craig's cock surged when he remembered how soft the pussy hair of his late wife Denise used to feel against his hand, and face.
Craig was so lost in his own world, looking at his daughter's reflection in the mirror, that he had no idea how long Shawn had been looking at him in the mirror. Watching him watching her. Their eyes met, and Craig quickly averted his attention from the relection, hoping against hope that she had not seen what he had been doing.
3. Out of the closet.
