I was left with a fourteen year old daughter to raise alone. Luckily my mother's older sister moved in with us for the next three years and helped care for my daughter and myself. I was able to go to work during the day, and my aunt took a part time job at night. I also provided her with free room and board; she refused any other compensation. Little Tracy's passage from girlhood to teenager was eased under my aunt's skillful domesticity; she had raised four children of her own. She left only when she was assured that my daughter and myself could function without her assistance.
I found a better job with another company. With a computer and modem I was able to do some work at home and insure that Tracy was off to school each morning. We lived quite well on my salary, but a shadow still enveloped us. I would look at Tracy, as she slowly grew into a near image of her mother, and a sharp pain would arc through my body.
Strangely I had no interest in women or sex during these years, possibly a result of the psychological residue of our tragedy. Whenever my daughter looked at me with her green eyes and pretty smile, I was filled with enough love to need nothing else. I always saw her as my little girl, even after she strode across the high school stage to receive her diploma with honors. Tracy chose to attend a local college and remained at home with me.
One night as I looked into her bedroom before turning in, I saw that Tracy was sitting very still on the edge of her bed, almost in a trance. She flinched when I tapped on her door and looked at me, asking, "Daddy, do you still think about mommy?" A pain shot through me, and I could say nothing; I merely turned away with my face filled with grief and staggered into my bedroom. I sat down on my bed and got myself under control. I heard a noise and looked up to see my daughter entering my room. She sat down next to me and put an arm around me, leaning against me. Obtaining no response, Tracy climbed onto my lap, wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me on the lips. "Don't be sad, daddy. I love you so much," she said. "I will be your little girl, and your big girl, forever."
My depressed mind was still numb, but forbidden, erotic images briefly flashed through it like electricity. My hardening cock pressed against the thinly clad bottom on my lap. "I love you too, Tracy, so much," I replied and hugged her against myself. Our lips met and remained softly pressed together for a long moment, but I became uneasy. I lifted Tracy off me, hugged her again, and sent her off to her room. My mind roiled with wicked ideas and my cock stiffened more, almost tempting me to masturbate in the privacy of my little bathroom. I wondered what Tracy was doing in her room.
My back bothered me enough during the night to wake me early. I needed to use the tub in the main bathroom. I filled it with hot water and immersed myself. The pain faded, and I lay there in a warm reverie, not hearing the door open, until a shadow blocked the light. I looked up and saw Tracy standing next to the tub. She was wearing a thin, short robe, but it hung open to show her bra and panties underneath. A look of concern was on her pretty face.
"Are you all right, daddy?"
"I guess so; my back was bothering me again, so I took a hot bath." My eyes wandered from her face to her crotch and chest. "Could you please hand me those aspirins and a cup of cold water, baby?" I didn't want to move. My daughter filled a cup and knelt down next to the tub, feeding the aspirins into my mouth with her dainty little fingers and holding the cup of water to my lips. I could just see a hint of her nipples and areoles through the sheer fabric of her bra.
"Let me help you, daddy." Tracy slipped the robe off and began to soap and wash me. Shamelessly, I lay in the warm water, naked under her eyes. A few stray splashes made her bra nearly transparent, and I could now easily see her nipples pressing against the thin material. Her gentle touch was stimulating me, and the innocent bathing quickly became an erotic episode unlike anything I had experienced in many years. Tracy ignored my rising penis at first, but then spent a suspiciously long time soaping and washing it. She seemed to enjoy her intimate touching of my body. Tracy ended by washing my feet and gathered several towels to dry me off. I found that most of the chronic pain was gone as I slowly eased myself out of the tub. My little daughter helped me to dry off.
"Why don't you lie down on that soft rug next to your bed, and I'll massage your poor back," she suggested. I agreed and walked naked into my bedroom and lay on the rug. In a moment Tracy was with me again. I smelled a pleasant aroma and noticed she had opened a bottle of fragrant oil. She poured some on her hands and began to dig into the locus of my pain. I groaned with contentment as the vestiges of the deep ache slowly disappeared. My daughter wiped away the excess oil with a dry washcloth and helped me up. I noticed that she was rubbing her own shoulders.
"What's wrong, baby?" I asked.
"I think the ache flowed from you into me, daddy," Tracy said, "or maybe I just wasn't used to massaging you so long." Her smile was so sweet.
"Turn around, baby," let me rub away the hurt." She spun about and I began to work my own fingers into her shoulders and arms. She reached around and lifted her long, dark hair up so I could rub her neck. Somehow this single act was so arousing that my penis rose up completely. I continued to work on her, listening to her little groans of pleasure, but my thick rod remained erect. Soon she dropped her hair, turned herself back to me, and moved forward to hug me. Her eyes dropped down when she felt something hard prod her stomach.
"Daddy, I... "
"I'm sorry, baby. I just can't help it," I interrupted. "You are such a beautiful girl." I tried to turn away, but Tracy held me and hugged herself against my naked flesh, trapping my hard cock between us.
"Daddy, it's all right. I want to be your big girl now, in any way that I can." She lifted her face up and pulled my head down. Our lips met again, but this time she slipped her little tongue into my mouth, and I responded in kind. "Let me help you, daddy," my little girl whispered into my mouth. She poured more drops of oil into her hand and gently rubbed them into my erect penis. I knew that I should stop her, but deep inside me I wanted her to do it. I allowed Tracy to jack me off. My legs began to shake, and I had to place my hands on her shoulders to brace myself or I would have collapsed to the floor.
She quickly bent over and picked up the washcloth. "Come for me, daddy; let me give you some comfort." Tracy resumed stroking me, but accelerated her little hand until I began to moan. She pressed the oily washcloth around the head of my throbbing erection. Its touch sent me over the brink, and I filled it with a stream of thick, incestuous cum. Tracy pumped and squeezed out every drop. After I stopped gasping, she carried the semen-soaked cloth to the bathroom, and I heard her rinse it and toss it down the laundry chute.
That evening I arrived home and heard the tub being used again. The door to the bathroom was open, but I passed the bathroom and went to my room. I took off everything but my underpants. Then overcome by my curiosity, I returned to the bathroom. I walked in; Tracy was lying in the tub, splashing herself with water.
"Want to join me for a bath, daddy?"
"Yes, honey." I stripped off my shorts and stepped into the tub. I began to wash her firm, young breasts with one hand coated in soap. Tracy began to wash me too, but, as I started teasing her protruding nipples, she closed her eyes and sighed. Her own hands limply soaped my chest, but I could tell that she was now occupied with her own desires. My hands moved downward and entered the space between her legs. My daughter moved her legs farther apart and sighed, her face flushing in the heat of the moment.
"Let your daddy get you clean, honey."
