Many thanks to my friend Gayle for editing this story! Comments welcome.
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My name is Brooke and this is my tale of how my family dramatic recently changed drastically. It's amazing how one simple comment can alter the way one views things, and subsequently change our behavior as well.
I am an only child, and must admit have always been a Daddy's girl. I've enjoyed a wonderful relationship with my mom over the years, but for some reason my dad and I just clicked on a higher level. Dad was my role model because of his intelligence, strength, and integrity and I looked up to him with complete admiration for as long as I can remember. We also enjoyed joking and teasing one another, which we loved but my mom thought was childish.
Dad was a senior executive with a major insurance company based in the mid-western US. Given his background, he always stressed prudent financial planning to me, so when I began making decent money he encouraged me to purchase my first home rather than wasting money on rent.
With the help of a realtor, Mom, Dad and I looked at a number of houses before I found one I liked. It needed lots of work and updating, but Dad said it had, "Good bones," so I made an offer and before long it was mine. Thankfully, both Mom and Dad volunteered to assist on my numerous projects, so at least I was not on my own. I wanted to jump right in and make major changes, but didn't have a lot of money to spend after the down payment. Dad said the easiest and cheapest way to alter the house was a fresh coat of paint all around, so after moving in I worked with Mom to pick out colors for both inside and out. Since it was summer, Dad suggested we begin with the outdoor painting and could do the indoor later as the weather became more inclement.
Shortly after I settled in, Mom and Dad came down the next weekend and we all jumped into working on the house. Dad and I were going to paint the outside while Mom cleaned and put things away inside. The home was only 1,300 square feet, so Dad figured it wouldn't take long to finish the outside, even though it needed a lot of prep work.
Dad and I worked side by side in the hot sun, and although it was dirty work, had as much fun as was possible given the situation. We had a radio playing outside, and we both took turns changing the station to something we liked. Dad kept sneaking it back to a classic rock station, while I preferred more modern, danceable tunes.
Mom stepped out to check on us at one point, just after Daddy had changed the station again. I playfully slapped his butt with the back of my scraper, which drew an immediate response from my mother. "Stop flirting with your father and let him get some work done," Mom said, which candidly stunned me.
Had it been anyone else in the world, what we were doing would clearly have been seen as flirting, but this was my dad for goodness sakes. Did Mom really believe I was flirting with Daddy or was she just joking? I felt my face go red and moved away to work in silence, but I couldn't get the word 'flirt' out of my head. Was I the family flirt?
I let Daddy play his rock station the rest of the day, and remained fairly quiet thereafter. When Mom and Dad left late in the day, I showered and went to bed early. Unfortunately, I could not get what my mom said out of my mind. I kept thinking about my relationship with my dad. He was by far the most important man in my life, and someone I admired like no other. I loved him to death, but I was left pondering if it somehow could be more than that. Was I IN love with him?
As a twenty nine year old woman, I had dated a number of men, some of whom I really loved. Yet as I thought back, I found that I consistently measured them up to one person, my dad. They were not as handsome, not as intelligent, not as strong, etc. I always told myself I should hold out for someone better, after all, it worked for my mom. The realization slowly began to build until it finally sunk in; I really was in love with my dad!
I wondered if I'd be able to face my mother again, pondering if somehow she'd seen right through me and knew my illicit secret. And could I face Daddy again, afraid I'd let something slip and he'd learn my feelings were far deeper than a daughter should have for her father? Fortunately, I didn't have much time to stew as they would be back in the morning to pick up where we left off earlier.
My parents arrived early and we all set about working without much fanfare. Dad and I continued scraping the outside while Mom busied herself indoors. Fortunately, it was much cooler than the day before which made the task marginally more pleasant.
We broke for lunch and all enjoyed a cold beer on the porch as we ate. I had been quiet most of the morning feeling a tad ill at ease, but Mom and Dad appeared normal as ever, so I tried my best to dismiss the feeling that they were somehow onto me. However, I still found it difficult to look at my dad for too long without getting a strange feeling deep in my belly.
By the end of lunch and much casual conversation, I was far more relaxed. I was sure Mom simply used the word 'flirt' as a substitute for joke, and wasn't trying to imply anything else. My mom could be very direct, but she hadn't said anything else, so I was certain I'd just overreacted.
In the afternoon we finished the scraping and sanding, so Dad showed me how to caulk around the windows and trim. He laid a bead down and turned to me to see that I'd followed what he was doing. I was feeling somewhat naughty being so close to him, and said quietly, "Nice caulk, Daddy." I shocked myself with my boldness, blushed slightly before I glanced around to make sure Mom was not hovering nearby.
Dad just shook his head slightly and in a drawn out way, responded, "Princess," clearly admonishing me with his tone. His lips slowly turned into a grin however, which made me feel like I had gotten away with something.
I went inside and grabbed another couple of beers for the two of us, and when I returned Dad was busily caulking another window. I handed him a beer and stood back and watched while he worked. Dad just seemed immensely capable to me, like there was nothing he couldn't do. I marveled at how an executive who spent most of his time in a suit was so willing to do manual labor for his far poorer daughter. I don't think he'd even painted his own home in ages, hiring contractors to do it for him, yet there he was.
My parents left early that evening, promising to be back the next weekend to start the painting. As I showered, I couldn't help thinking of my dad and of my daring 'caulk' comment. Before I even knew what was happening, I had the shower massager head between my legs pointed directly at my clit while I fingered my over-heated pussy. As my orgasm approached, I couldn't help but moan, "Oh, Daddy." I came hard and my knees buckled, but I leaned against the tile walls and somehow remained upright.
Over the next week, I couldn't get Dad out of my mind. At work, I daydreamed about him, and in the evenings at home I found myself deeply lost in my fantasy world of being with him in an intimate way. I'm ashamed to say I rubbed myself off more than a few times to the illicit thoughts.
On my way home from work one night I picked up a few gallons each of primer and paint for my dad and I to use. I also tried to come up with a ton of indoor projects to keep mom occupied elsewhere. Knowing how manipulative I was being made me feel terrible, so I tried not to think about it too much. The guilt was hard to ignore though.
I was surprised when my dad showed up alone on Saturday morning. He explained that mom had decided to visit her own mother, who had been ill, so it would just be the two of us. I felt a tingle run over my skin, knowing I'd have him all to myself for the day.
The morning started off quiet as I avoided flirting with my dad overtly, but he was his usual jovial self and slowly pulled me out of my shell. It was even hotter than the previous weekend, and at about eleven o'clock Dad pulled his shirt off and set about working topless. I complained that it was unfair, and he simply smiled at me and stated, "I don't mind if you do the same."
