This is an entirely fictional father/daughter love story of consensual adult incest. If such a topic upsets you then please go somewhere else.
This is the continuation of the story "For The Love of My Father -- Ch 02". Please read the first and second chapters before continuing or else it may not make complete sense. Thank you!
*
"Diana!"
I jumped up, wiping my mouth with my hand as my father zipped his trousers up. We quickly exited the study and I ran downstairs to greet Miranda and Ali.
"Hey!" I grabbed Ali and squeezed her tight, then threw my arms around Miranda and hugged her. Ali smiled and her cute little dimples were accentuated, the spray of freckles across her cheeks illuminated.
"Di I want to tell you all about what happened the other day! I was going to ask, could you help me bake some stuff for the hospice for Saturday please?"
"Sure, Ali!" I grinned at her. It was so nice having my sisters on planet earth for a change!
We spent a couple of hours in the kitchen getting covered in flour, but I can cook rather well and soon enough, we had some beautiful results. I don't enjoy cooking, but when it's for my sisters I'll do anything for them. We aren't close enough as far as I'm concerned.
Eventually I heard my father's footsteps descending the staircase, and he walked through into the kitchen from the living room. He found me in my floury state and grinned.
"How's my baby!" he smiled at me.
"Dad!" Ali yelled. "Di, I'm going to go clean up. Can you put the cakes away once they cool?"
"Sure" I said absently. I was just happy to see my father. As soon as Ali had left the room he wrapped his arms around me tight playfully, giving me a big kiss on the forehead, then on the mouth. We laughed like schoolchildren. "You'll get flour all over you!" I screamed.
"See if I care!" He cuddled me tight while I giggled uncontrollably.
"...Kevin?"
We spun around. There my mother stood, bags in hand, her coat still wet from outside. My father moved away from me, trying to act nonchalant.
"Sharon" he greeted her quietly. She stared at him for a moment before continuing.
"I need help with these bags. I'm leaving in the morning instead of tonight."
"Sure" my father replied. My father was covered in flour now, but he didn't seem to mind at all, even in front of my mother.
We had been caught in what my mother could have possibly seen as a compromising situation. However my mother didn't seem to notice. If she did she certainly kept her suspicions to herself. But why would she suspect anything? My mind ran back to all the times we had been with my Mum and sisters. There weren't that many incidences; my mother was out a lot and usually ended up eating alone at whatever hour she got back from work. There had been the occasional family dinner occurrence. No doubt we would all be eating together this evening, as the rarity of having my entire family indoors suggested.
I decided to help my mother in the kitchen, and set about preparing the food.
"You look a little bigger than usual" my mother retorted. My Mum has the habit of reporting on everything like it's the ten o'clock news.
"What do you mean?"
"You just look a tad bigger than usual, that's all" she replied, turning back around to face the cupboards.
"Nonsense, Diana looks more beautiful than ever" my father jumped in defensively.
"I didn't say there was anything wrong with it."
"Well there isn't" my father told her sternly.
She had her back turned to us and my father reached out and stroked my hand, smiling. I smiled back at him happily.
I did know what she meant though. That very morning I had scrutinized myself in the mirror and I did look a little rounder than usual. I put it down to my nonexistent periods and left it at that. I'm on the contraceptive implant so it was nothing unusual, my weight did go up and down a bit.
When we all sat down to eat, things were tense. My father sat opposite me, and was therefore extremely hard to avoid. An awkward silence hung in the air until my mother spoke.
"So, what have you girls been up to then?"
Ali and Miranda both jumped in at the same time, whereas I sat quietly. As they conversed with my mother I could feel my father's eyes on me, burning brightly into me like two hot coals. I caught his gaze, silently questioning his attentiveness to my presence. I looked at him hard then gazed down at my plate. I wasn't feeling very hungry. My stomach churned like a cement mixer.
"So how about my little Diana?" my mother finally asked. I paused.
"Im fine."
"Just fine?"
"Yes."
"What about work?"
"Work is okay. How was your trip?"
"Trip?"
"Yes, your work trip last weekend?"
"Oh! Yes that was fine I was accompanied by another member of staff so it wasn't all bad."
"Who was that then?" my father asked noncommittally.
"...Tony." My mother went back to eating. There was an air of uneasiness. My father glanced at me and smiled. I smiled back and tried not to look at him again. I felt his foot touch mine under the dinner table and I almost jumped out of my chair.
"Diana, please do not spill the peas" my mother said coldly. I put my fork down amenably and stared at my plate.
"Diana, are you alright?" my father asked quietly.
"I'm not too hungry, I think I'll go and have a lie down if you don't mind"
"Of course not, do whatever you need to do" he advised, reaching across the table to grip my hand.
I ascended the staircase slowly, trudging up to my room. When I finally slumped onto my bed I fell into a dreamless sleep.
