I thought I'd try writing an incest/taboo story.
This story has graphic scenes of sex between an adult woman and her father; if this isn't your preference, you should consider skipping this story.
All characters are 18 years-old or older.
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I grabbed the keys from my bowl by the door and opened it; blindly stepping forward I nearly walked right into a woman standing outside my door. A girl really. I blinked in surprise and for an awkward moment we stared at one another. I think she was standing there for quite some time. Wisconsin was in full winter and despite her winter coat and Badgers knitted hat, her cheeks were rosy.
"Umm," was all I managed.
She scuffed her foot, "Uh, hey," she spoke with a bit of an accent, "My name is Ingrid. I think you're my dad."
I ushered her in, but I had a sneaking suspicion of how we're related. She took off her red hat, shaking out her platinum blond hair and when Ingrid turned back to me I noticed her large brown eyes staring back. She had delicate features, a slightly upturned nose and full pink lips; she was short, a little under five feet tall, with wide wipes and a tiny waist. Features all too familiar to me and before she spoke, I knew the name of her mother.
"I'm a sophomore at UW," she said, breaking the silence. "But my mom-I'm from Switzerland."
"Ah," was my brilliant reply.
"Yeah, I figured, you look a lot like your mom," I said with a little smile, awkwardly scratching the back of my head.
Ingrid brightened at that a little bit, maybe she was expecting hostility, but I guess the answer I gave was the right one in her books.
"She said you two met in a bar at Langnau."
I nodded, "Yeah, my parents thought that I should at least visit a different country before college," I replied. "How's Ella?" My memory wasn't great, but I definitely remembered the
woman I lost my virginity to.
She flashed a quick, small smile and I think that made me feel a little worse, "She was good, she passed away when I was 12 and my grandparents raised me." Ingrid nodded, more to herself than to me. "But, she was good," she repeated.
Yep, that definitely made me feel worse. She took a seat on the coach, relaxing a little bit more. "She didn't contact me," I said, trying to keep the awkwardness out of the air. "I would have helped or you know or whatever. You know, whatever she wanted."
Ingrid bobbed her head again, a nervous ticket and something I used to do when I was in elementary school whenever I had to give book reports. "Mom was fine, I didn't think she viewed it as a burden or needed support or anything. Opa and Oma weren't that old fashioned so it's not like they kicked her out if that's what you thought."
I didn't think of that, but nonetheless I felt relieved. Unconsciously, I nodded my head too, childhood habits coming back to roost.
"They passed away a year ago, so I thought I'd try to start something new. My mom had this old photo of you and her in a bar that had your name scribbled on the back. So, I thought I'd look you up when I started going to school here."
"Yeah," I said with a grin, "That's where we met, I didn't realize the drinking age was 16 so the first thing I did was get hammered. Your mom was nice and didn't mind showing a drunk American around, I always thought of how sweet she was."
Ingrid grinned back, "Yeah, mom said you were a little awkward but in a cute way," she nervously swept a lock of her almost-white hair behind her ear. I hoped my name wasn't a specter in conversations with her mother and it seemed that I wasn't all bad.
"So you're going to UW?" I asked.
"Yeah, university was always important to my mom; I'm studying nursing, like her."
"Well, I'm happy you're here and looked me up."
She smiled at that, but it soured a little bit, "I thought we'd do a 23andMe test, they'll have a website and it will match us."
"Whatever you feel comfortable with," I said. We exchanged numbers and she departed a little shyly. This was going to get some used to and I couldn't imagine doing this at her age.
We talked during the few weeks waiting for the 23andMe test and she grew on me; when her grandparents died she sold their dairy farm and applied to college. After a year she wanted to transfer to a US school and with a little legwork courtesy of google and the old photo her mother had, she found me in Madison, WI.
"I was pretty nervous, Jack," she admitted when we were sitting together in my apartment after we had dinner. We weren't quite at the dad-level of familiar yet. "My mom never said you were bad or anything, but she also didn't mention you a lot either. I was kinda glad you turned out to be normal." Ingrid blushed a little bit and bit her lip nervously.
"Thanks," I laughed. "You know, I didn't mean to abandon Ella or anything; I just didn't know."
"She never gave that impression, I just think she may not have been ready for a serious relationship. I wanted to ask her, but I guess I was afraid of what she would say."
I gave her a hug and we just sat there for a few minutes, thinking.
I already knew the result of the DNA test before it was returned, she was the spitting image of her mother with my eyes. So, when the results came back with a notification that I had a very near relative living in Madison and pointed at her address, I wasn't surprised. Still, I felt it was good to celebrate, even if it's just her accomplishment of finding me. I picked up some Goldschlager and after dinner we were again relaxing in my apartment.
She was tucked into my side, looking cute as a button with her cheek resting against me. We had just gotten to our second tumblers and I guess low alcohol tolerance ran in the family because we both had a little flush going. We were watching some old James Bond movie and the lead actress had just gotten out of the water, water dripping down here in a glamor shot. Ingrid was getting a little more comfortable and said, "Do you think she's pretty?"
"Yeah, sweetie, but not as much as you," I replied.
Ingrid flashed a shy smile up at me, "Thanks, dad," she hugged me tighter.
I smiled down at her, it was the first time she called me, "Dad." It felt strange, but it also felt nice. After discovering I was a father a certain amount of guilt had been weighing on me that I had missed so much of her life.
My daughter looked up at me, realizing the significance and hugged me tighter.
"How pretty do you think I am?" she said teasingly.
"Prettiest woman I've ever seen," I chuckled, kissing the top of her head and for the first time, really feeling like her father and felt a little less guilty.
When I woke up, I was holding onto a little blond angel. She smelled like lavender. I wanted nothing more than to hold her forever, but it was Friday and I had to go to work. She must have sensed me waking up because she stirred in my arms and opened her eyes, "Morning, Dad," she whispered, giving me a little peck on the cheek. Those words warmed me more than anything.
"Morning sweetie," returning her kiss. "And thanks."
"For what?" she asked.
"For calling me, 'dad'. I was hoping that last night wasn't a one-off remark," I picked her up off my lap and got up off the couch, but she bounced up and followed me into the kitchen with a glowing smile.
We had coffee and I saw how much happier she looked. I also became aware of things that a father shouldn't notice, like how round and full her breasts were and how nicely her bra pressed her breasts together. She wore a tight white tank top that showed off her curves and her petite waist flowed into curvy hips and long legs.
When we left, she stood on her tiptoes and gave me a kiss, lightly touching her tongue to my lips, "Have a good day at work, dad," she said, a little breathless.