In Love With Daddy Ch 03

Hello, my name is Taylor. If you've read my other story (In Love with Daddy, Ch. 1), you know that in it I describe how I, a regular 28 year old married man with a 4 year old boy, fell in love with my grieving, widowed father, Michael. I invited him to write the second part of our story (In Love with Daddy, Ch. 2), where he told you how my older sister, Lauren, found out about Dad and I (and was okay with it), how my gay coworker Jason invited us to a threesome, and finally, and briefly, about my decision to leave my wife, Becca, and be open about my relationship.

I will now try to give you a third story, from my point of view again. I will start only a few days after that last night with Dad, when I showed up at his house wearing a revealing top and a mini-skirt, with make-up. I found that I absolutely loved wearing women's clothing so, in a bold rush the morning after that last night, I made my way to the mall and bought several sexy outfits, as well as some new black bras and panties. I only wore them around Dad though, at his house and while going out to dinner with him, or to run errands. I didn't work the rest of the weekend, so I just spent time with Dad during the days—and the nights.

When Monday morning came I argued with myself back and forth over whether or not I ought to start wearing the ladies underwear and the make-up to work. Dad said he didn't care either way—though I know he loved me with it on and would feel very special if I did wear it to work for him. But in the end I decided on the safe course and changed into a clean pair of scrubs I had left at Dad's place, though beneath I still wore a black bra and silky smooth panties. I did my hair up like I used to always do it, and then stepped out of the bathroom where Dad was lying naked on our bed, his penis erect. I breathed deeply, looking at that beautiful strong body of his.

"What am I gonna do, sweetie pie?" he asked, grinning. "Mr. Teddy Bear wants his mama . . ." He spread his legs wide apart, so that I could see his anus, beneath his scrotum.

"Well, Mr. Teddy Bear is going to have to wait," I said, playfully. "If he's naughty, and plays with himself, then mama might not even come home tonight. What would Mr. Bear think of that?"

Suddenly Dad's smile broke, turning around into a mock frown. "Taylor, you're not serious, are you?"

I laughed. "Of course not, honey . . . but I do have to figure things out with Becca and Alex though. She's left a few messages on my phone, saying that she's already called her lawyer. She wants me to pack up my things, and sign the paperwork. I'll move out but I don't know if I should be signing anything until I can get a lawyer too. What do you think, Dad?"

He was somber now and sat up on the bed, scratching his arms. His penis was gradually going flaccid as he thought. He said, "I think you should. I know a good lawyer, a friend of mine—remember that guy in the gym that day when"—here a flicker of smile came over his face—"I touched you in the shower? That's him. His name is Bob—well, Robert McNamara, actually. He's good."

"Awesome," I said. "Well, Dad, I should be heading out now. I work until 7 tonight and will be stopping by my house to pick up some things. What do you do today?"

"Oh, jacking off to thoughts of you all day," he said, with a chuckle. "I don't have any plans yet. Now come and give your father a kiss, boy."

I giggled and let myself fall into his bare arms, kissing him. He still had some of my lipstick from the previous night on his lips—and on other parts of him as well. His right hand fell to my butt, which he squeezed tenderly. Just as I was about to let him go, I reached down with one of my free hands and wrapped my palm around the shaft of his penis, fully erect again. He moaned.

"That's it," I said, standing up straight and dropping his cock. "See you tonight, Dad."

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too."

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Work that day at the ER was busy, as usual. I had to help with a couple of patients who had had heart attacks, and one who had had a stroke. All in all, a very fast-paced morning. Jason was there but except for an occasion side glance at me, he didn't say anything to me, and I almost forgot that he knew about me and Dad at all. At lunch, however, he slid up next to me in the line and put his hand on my back between my shoulder blades.

"Is that a bra under there?" he asked. He fingered the strap through the thin scrubs material.

I turned to him and looked up—he was a few inches taller than me—into his smiling face. "Did you . . . could you see it?"

He nodded. "Yup, I could. It's pretty easy, you know. It's dark, and your scrubs are light. Did you think we couldn't see it?"

"No, not really," I admitted. "I should take it off, huh?"

He laughed. "And let those giant beautiful tits of yours sag? I don't think so, babe."

"Ha ha ha," I said, slowly. "Very funny. I like it, so sue me." I turned back towards the approaching salad bar, and picked up a tray.

"Well," Jason began behind me. "Even if you did take it off, we could still see your cute panties." With that he patted my butt softly.

After getting my food I made a point of sitting next to our manager, Sheryl, so that if Jason sat next to me he wouldn't be able to make his filthy jokes. Whether or not Sheryl could tell I was wearing a bra, or anyone else for that matter, I didn't know nor care. As I had told Dad last night: I was tired of it all, hiding, caring about that kind of thing. I was already compromising myself too much as it is by not wearing my make-up or doing my hair up.

As I ate, though, I found my eyes wandering around the cafeteria, checking out some of the hotter guys there—two or three nurses from other floors, some doctors, a unit clerk, and then there was Jason, of course, who eyed me back. He was a very good-looking guy—wide chest, nice cheekbones, a full head of dark brown hair—and if a rumor that I had heard from one of my female coworkers was true, Jason has a massive 10 inch cock. I don't know how she found out—as far as I could tell Jason was not bisexual. So it might be a myth. 10 inches is pretty big—Dad's is only 8 and mine an inch or more smaller than his. It was obvious to see the shape of his chest through his scrub top—his nipples were showing—so maybe I could find a way to see the shape of his penis through his scrubs bottom, just maybe . . .

What was I thinking? I am not interested in him, I told myself then, returning to the dull conversation at my own table. I could only endure it a moment longer, and thoughts of Jason came back to me. But I shoved them out and tried thinking of Daddy instead, of the taste of his balls, or of his anus. Beneath the table my penis was getting hard, so I again forced myself to follow along with the boring talk coming from Sheryl and the others. Soon lunch was over and I was back to work again, full blast.

Luckily, I managed to avoid Jason the rest of the night, and when I was off the clock I practically ran to the garage to my car. Before starting my car, I texted Becca to tell her that I was heading over there right now to pick up some of my stuff. When she replied a few minutes later, after I was already on the road, she just said "ok"—which I guessed was a good thing. In a few minutes I was there and walking up to the front doorway, where I unlocked the door and came inside.

The T.V. was on and my 4 year old, Alex, was sitting on the couch watching a cartoon. He had a blanket wrapped around him, and was eating a microwave mac and cheese supper. He raised his big blue eyes in my direction and, upon seeing me, exclaimed, "Daddy! You're home!"

He leapt from the couch and ran into my open arms. I hugged him tightly. It had been more than even a few days since I had last seen him, since he had spent a couple of days with Becca's mother and father.

"Where were you, Daddy?" Alex asked now, stepping back away from me. "Mommy says you were at Grandpa's house. She says you are going to live there now."

"Well, yes," I said. "I am going to live with Grandpa from now on. He is kind of sick, and needs a nurse like me to hang out with him all day and make sure he is okay at night too." I had prepared that lie over the weekend, with Dad's help. Alex would buy it, I knew—at least until he got older. He might get suspicious then, especially when his Daddy would start wearing women's clothing—which actually might be sooner than later (I had not quite decided upon the particulars of my public "show" yet).

"Yes," came Becca's voice, behind me, her tone cautious. "Your dad is going to live with Grandpa, and take right good care of him."

I turned and found her standing there in the doorway, her full blonde hair shining in the light coming from the kitchen to the side of her, at the end of the hall. She was very pretty, I still thought. She had a slim form, with full breasts and nice lady-like legs. Right now she was wearing a grey-green skirt with a white blouse, and an apron tied around her hips. She had the same deep blue eyes as our son.

"You can get your things from the bedroom," she said now, with a chilly undertone that had been missing a moment before. "Here, let's let Alex watch his television and finish his dinner."

With that I got up and, after patting my son of the head, walked behind my wife towards our bedroom where I sat on the bed and she closed the door. A lamp shone from a side table.

"So?" I started. "What's up, Becca?"

"You know," she said, remaining where she was. "Of course you do."

"Yeah, what do you want to say?"

She sighed, looked away briefly, and then lowered her eyes. "Do you really want to do this, Taylor?"

"You mean, do I really love my father?" I asked. I answered it myself: "Yes, of course. I love him."

"Love him . . .? Because it's your father and to love your father is natural?" Becca was now looking straight into my eyes and had taken a step forward, but her arms were clasped around her chest. "No, you love him in a different way, in a really disgusting way . . ."

I rolled my eyes. This was going nowhere. "Yes," I said. "I am his little bitch. He stuffs his penis into my ass. We—"

"Shh!" Becca said, putting her finger over her lips. "Alex might hear, you idiot! I don't even think he should be around you anymore, in fact. I think it's unhealthy."

"Oh come on, Becca," I said. "Don't even go there." I was ready to get up and just start grabbing my stuff, but she stepped towards me again and placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked at it, frowning. "What?"

"Taylor," she began. "Don't fight for Alex . . . for his custody, I mean. If you do, then I intend to inform my lawyer—and the judge—that you are . . . cheating on me, with a man."

"Becca, I am totally fine with you getting total custody of our son," I said. "Oh, and I don't care if anyone finds out, about me. I am even going to start dressing as a woman all the time, as I told you before. Dad and I are going to be as open as possible about us, and—"

"And what if Alex finds out?" Becca said, cutting me off. She let go of my shoulder. "We can never, ever let him know about you and Michael. You can do whatever you want, but when you're around our son you better not be dressed like a girl! I will put out a restraining order against you, if you fail in this."

"I was actually about to tell you that Dad and I are not planning on letting Alex know about us," I told her, truthfully. "We talked about this. But I will still wear women's clothing around him. What is wrong with that? He can know his dad is gay, at least. Right? Or are you homophobic now?"

She took a deep breath. "We will talk about all of this later . . ." she said, turning around and opening the door. "Get your stuff and get the hell out of my house."

I packed quickly—only the essentials: all of my scrubs, socks, a few books, my laptop, some bathroom stuff, and my stash of gay porn magazines that I had hid from Becca beneath a plank in our closet. Maybe me and Dad could learn some new tricks. I put all of this stuff—magazines first!—into a large duffle bag and left the room. I found my son fast asleep on the couch, and my wife—or ex-wife, almost—in the kitchen finishing up the dishes. She glared at me and said, "Well. We will stay in touch. At least our lawyers will."

"Sure," I said, and headed out.

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I was surprised to see my sister Lauren's car parked in Dad's driveway. Inside the house, I could see them both sitting down on couches opposite one another. Someone's—Lauren's, I think—arms were making some kind of gesture as if to aid in explaining something really difficult. When I entered the living room Lauren was in the middle of saying something. She cut it short and looked at me, gulping.

"Hey," she said, and bit her lip. "How was work?"

"Fine," I replied, setting my duffle bag in the hall before entering the living room. Dad was sitting there in jeans and a button-up shirt. He swallowed upon seeing me.

"Hi sweetheart," he said. "Lauren was just visiting. We went out to get something to eat earlier. How'd everything go with Becca tonight?"

I looked back at Lauren, who nodded. She said, "You know that . . . I know about you and Daddy, right?"

"Yes," I said, taking a step towards Dad.

"Good, well it's still a bit hard for me . . . but Daddy and I have talked about it all"—she paused here, and licked her lips—"and I am fine with it. Daddy has been so lonely since Mom died, and I know he loves you. All day today, every time he or I mentioned your name, his face would just light up as I'd never seen it before. That's what Mom would want for him, I think."

"Thanks," I said, sincerely. "That means a lot, sis."

With that, I stooped over slightly and kissed Dad on the lips. I sat down next to him and he put his arm around my shoulders with his other hand in mine on my lap. He gently caressed my thumb.

"I see that you're wearing a bra too," Lauren said now, pointing towards my chest. "Dad said you are going to start wearing ladies clothes all the time. You do have good skin tone, I think. Do you mind my asking if you are, uh, planning on becoming a girl? Maybe get some breast implants, or take estrogen?"

"Well," I began, stealing a glance at Dad. "A definite 'No' on 'becoming a girl'"—here I made the two finger gesture for quotation marks—"but I have thought, only thought, about getting breasts." I looked at Dad who remained silent all this time, gazing alternatively at my neck, lips, and eyes. "I haven't talked with you, Dad, about this yet. Would . . . would you like that?"

"Umm," he started, lost for words it seemed. "I . . . well, I wouldn't want you to do anything you wouldn't be comfortable with. And implants and all that can be expensive. I love you, and always will. The way you are right now, or any other way too. Do whatever you want. I mean that, honey." He kissed my cheek.

"That's why I love him," I said, chuckling. "So the answer is 'Maybe,' I guess."

"Did this start out that way—I mean, with you wanting to be more feminine?" Lauren asked. It appeared that she was definitely interested.

"I don't think so," I answered. "I was never feminine until Dad and I got together. But it feels so natural now, and Dad likes it."

"I sure do!" he said, and kissed my cheek again. "But like I said, I am okay with you however you are, son. I mean it!"

"And do you, uh, still see him as your father?" Lauren asked, biting her lip again.

"Yes," I said, rubbing Dad's hands between mine. "We even talked about this. Our first relationship is and will always be father and son, a dad and his boy. We are just a very, very intimate father and son. That's all." I turned to Lauren and, really wanting to know, asked, "Why do you want to know all of this?"

"Well," she said. "I am, uh, really into the 'Taboo.' Let's just say that. Daddy and I talked all about this today. I wouldn't ever do anything sexual with my own family members, but for some reason I really like incest, of all kinds. I was shocked at first by finding out about you and Daddy the other day, but I went home and remembered that I . . . had even had some thoughts about you and Daddy, having sex. Before I knew, I mean. I have had thoughts of even more than that, of a . . . family orgy, with Mom too. Now before you think I'm insane, just remember that like I said, I would never do it myself . . ." She was breathing hard now, and trying to manage a smile.

This was all news to me. I had not the slightest clue about any of my sister's secret fantasies. I guess everyone has them. But she said she would never "do it" herself . . .

"Do you just want to find out more about our sex life . . . or, what?" I asked.

"She was wondering if she could just videotape us, sweetie," Dad said, before his daughter could answer. "Just once. I told her it was okay . . . I hope it is."

My heart fluttered in my chest, and my penis suddenly came alive. But it was not just arousal; it was also a kind of panic. This was some of the craziest stuff I'd ever heard of.

"Umm, are you going to set up a tri-pod?" I asked now, looking again at Lauren.

"I want to tape you guys live, if that's okay," she said. "I also hope that's okay with you, Taylor. If it's too weird then don't worry about it. We don't have to do it. I was just talking with Daddy about it—it was his idea to tape it for me. Plus, I am not as interested in that kind of thing as I used to be a few years ago."

I thought it over. My own sister, and my lover's daughter, taping us having sex? I don't know if I can do it. But if Dad is okay with it, and it's just this once . . . it does sound exciting. "Did you want to do that tonight?" I asked.

"Umm, if that's okay."

"Is it?" Dad asked.

"Uh . . . yes," I said, nervous all over again at the thought. "You have your camera, Lauren?"

"Yes, I do," she said, and got up from the couch. "I will go get it from my trunk. Thanks again, Taylor. I . . . This is going to be a lot of fun for me. It's kind of a fantasy of mine . . . if you know what I mean. And I promise I won't, uh, you know, at all during filming."

She left the room and Dad started kissing me on the neck. I wanted to get up and head to the bathroom but Dad had me pretty firmly in his arms now, and his hand was trailing up my thigh to my erect penis. In a moment Lauren was back in and, having taken off her light jacket, had a small camcorder in her hands. Dad and I got up from off the couch and, my hand in his, walked up to our bedroom. Dad had apparently cleaned the room and replaced the sheets. There were also a few air fresheners in the outlets, filling the room with a sweet, flowery aroma.

I went to the bed and sat down, while Dad began unbuttoning his shirt. Lauren turned on her camera and its light—plus a supplemental light attached to it—shown brightly in my eyes so that I couldn't see Dad anymore. Although I was still aroused, the situation had made my penis go limp again. I was wondering if I would be able to perform under such bizarre conditions . . .

"Just do what you normally do," Lauren said now. "Try and pretend like I'm not here." With that she moved the camera towards a slightly different direction and angle, so that I could see Dad again.

He had his shirt and undershirt off, and was unbuttoning his pants. He had apparently already taken off his socks, because he was now close enough to me that his bare toes were touching the tops of my shoes. In a moment he was completely naked, his penis straight up and bobbing lightly against my chest. I put my hands on his hips and felt around him to his hard butt cheeks. I was conscious of Lauren maneuvering towards his backside to get a close up of Dad's ass. Meanwhile, I pressed my body against his penis, feeling it jab me like a hard baton. Dad brought his hands down to my scrub top and in one graceful swoop I was shirtless, my bra in view. As Dad slowly leaned over on top of me, kissing along my neck and my shoulders, I began to forget about Lauren and her camera—and to just relax and enjoy these precious moments here with my sweet, kind Daddy bear.