Not My Daughter!!

Hi. I'm Jed Stevenson. I'm 42. I'm pretty good shape, having worked construction for the bulk of my life, but since I moved to management I'm starting to develop something of a dad bod. I've been married twice. Also divorced twice...evidently I spent too much time working when I should have been home taking care of my wife. Both of them left me for other men.

I have three children: Janice, Melony, and Grace. Janice, the oldest at 19, was the result of my first marriage with Caroline, the other two from my marriage with Renee. The kids, the ex-wives, and me all live within an hour's drive of each other.

I love all my kids. They're simply incredible. The two younger ones take after me in both looks and personality and I was lucky in that Renee's new husband was a pretty decent guy and set the same standards for them that I would have. Good grades in school, not getting in trouble, level heads, polite to people...I couldn't be more proud of them.

Janice...now Janice was a problem. I loved her, of course, but she was a wild child at heart like her mother. Always getting in trouble, hanging out with the wrong people, getting arrested at 16 for possession of pot. I'm ashamed to admit that I was shocked when she graduated high school. I honestly didn't think she'd make it that far, but I was happy that she did.

Another thing I'm ashamed to admit: she makes my dick hard as a rock.

Caroline kept her from me for the most part after we split. I saw Janice only very rarely, maybe once a year or once every other year, but when she turned 17 she started seeing me of her own accord. At that age, I was struck at how much she looked like her mother. She was almost a carbon-copy of Caroline, or rather a carbon-copy of Carline when she was that age. She was, for lack of a better term, thick...solid, not fat, and despite my attempts to not notice, her D-cup breasts and thick tanned thighs showed some polynesian heritage in her bloodline somewhere. She also had her mother's same pouty mouth, sultry eyes, and jet-black hair that had attracted me to her mother in the first place.

I was embarrassed and ashamed of my reaction, but didn't let it show. We met up more often over the next two years for an occasional lunch or dinner, and she'd started coming over to my house periodically to just hang out.

I was sitting at my desk in the trailer at the jobsite when my cell phone dinged. I checked the messages, it was from Janice.

"You home?"

"No, at work. What's up?" I typed in response.

"Have to talk to you. Need a favor, Daddy."

I frowned. She rarely called me "Daddy". In fact, after she turned 16 she seemed to go out of her way to avoid calling me "Daddy" or "Dad". She'd called me "Jed" a couple of times that brought a frown to my face, but I didn't say anything about it.

"Call me." I typed.

"Don't wanna talk over the phone about it."

"Ok. Come by the house after work."

"I'm already at your house. How soon can you get here?"

I looked at the clock: 2:30 PM. What the hell, there was nothing pressing at the jobsite and I could take off early one day. I let the leads know I was leaving, called the head office to tell them I had something to take care of at home, and left.

She was sitting in her car in my driveway when I arrived. She was texting furiously on her phone and must not have heard me pull up behind her. She actually jumped when I tapped on her window.

I smiled, pointed to the house, then walked up to the front door and unlocked it. Stepping inside, I left it open for Janice. She followed me in a minute later.

"So, what's up?" I asked, settling into my recliner as she flopped down on the couch.

"I need a favor," she said.

"You said that in your text. What favor do you need?" I asked. I hoped it wasn't money, because honestly I didn't trust her to not spend it on drugs or something equally stupid.

"I need a place to stay," she said.

"Something wrong at your mom's house?"

"Yeah, kinda," she replied.

There was a pregnant pause while I waited for her to explain, but she didn't.

"Ooookay," I said. If she wasn't going to explain, I wasn't going to force her to. "For how long?"

"I dunno," she said.

She was being really vague. She was my daughter and I loved her, but I didn't want to get dragged into some kind of drama between her and her mother. Plus, I was wary of having a 19 year old wild child having the run of my house.

"If there's problems at home, why don't you move out?" I asked.

She gave me an exasperated look. "What do you think I'm trying to do?"

Oh, yeah. "I mean, get your own place. You're 19, after all," I said, covering my embarrassment.

"I don't have any money or a job. I need to get out of that house NOW, but I don't have the means to," she said.

I sat there, considering, while she looked at me apprehensively. I felt I had an obligation to her as my daughter, but there was still the trust factor to consider. Eventually, I came to a decision.

"Ok," I said. A huge smile bloomed on her face.

"But there's conditions," I said, pointing my finger at her.

"Of course," she said quickly, her smile slipping a bit.

"First, no drugs in my house. Ever. And I mean that," I said. "No second chances if you break that rule."

What was left of her smile faded. "Jeez, I get busted for pot ONCE and I'm still paying the price for it. But that's not a problem. I'm SO done with that."

"Second, no strange guys over," I continued.

"I'm not dating anyone," she said quickly. "Hell, I haven't even fu...er, had sex in months."

At the mention of sex, I involuntarily flicked my eyes to her lush body then my face reddened as I realized what I was doing and quickly shifted my gaze back to her face, praying she didn't see where my eyes had gone.

"Third, you have to get a job. This is temporary until you're on your own feet."

"Yeah, I want to anyway," she said. "Get a job, that is. I have an interview on Thursday."

"That's great!," I said. "Last, you have to help out around here. Dishes, cleaning, that kind of stuff."

"I did all that at Mom's house. That's ALL I did at Mom's house," she said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. "So, again, no problem."

"Ok, then," I said, standing up. "If you can follow those rules, you can stay here."

"Thank you, Daddy!!" She jumped to her feet and rushed over to me, pulling me into a bear hug. My dick twitched at the feel of her large breasts pressed against my chest, and I

quickly untangled myself from her before she could feel that I was getting hard.

"Do you need help getting your stuff from your Mom's house?" I asked.

"All of my stuff is in my car," she said, excitedly.

I helped her bring her stuff in and it only took one trip. There was pathetically little to carry in, only two suitcases and one large box. I set her up in the spare room, then left to pick up an early dinner for us.

When I returned, I set the fast food bags down on the kitchen table then called out to her, saying I was back. I heard her coming down then stairs, then turned as she walked into the kitchen.

Oh. My. God.

She was wearing only panties and a tank top that barely held in her breasts. She was texting on her phone as she walked in, not looking at me, which was a good thing since my dick exploded into full hardness instantly.

"Juh-Janice!" I said, shocked, sitting down in a chair with a thud, more to hide the fact that my dick was starting to tent out the front of my pants than any other reason.

She looked up from her phone at me. "What?" she said, confused.

"You can't walk around the house like that!" I said.

"Why not?" she replied. "It's comfortable. And besides, it's just us."

My mouth didn't want to work properly, but I managed to spit out "That's not the point!"

She put her hand on her hip and gave me a level stare. "C'mon, Daddy, and it's not like you're going to get all worked up over your own daughter. Right?"

If she only knew. "No," I lied with a sputter, "but, uh, what if someone comes over? Or sees you through the window or something?"

"Well, I guess they'll get an eyeful," she said, sitting down and pulling the food from the bags. She ignored me as she sorted out dinner and started eating. I didn't know what to say so I quickly ate then got up, turning slightly so she wouldn't see my massive hard-on in my pants.

"I'll be upstairs for a bit," I said, then hurried out of of the kitchen. My bedroom had an attached bathroom, and that's where I headed.

I knew my dick wasn't going to go down any time soon with her dressed like that, but I couldn't walk around sporting a hard-on for the rest of the evening. I pulled my pants down, sat on the toilet, and furiously jerked my dick. It didn't take very many strokes before I came and came hard, images of her puffy lips and hot body dancing around in my mind.

Sitting there, heart pounding from the intensity of my orgasm, I was consumed by shame. "Way to go, asshole, you just jerked off to your daughter," I said quietly. I was disgusted with myself.

"Gotta get a girlfriend, quick," I mumbled as I cleaned up my mess with toilet paper. I hadn't had sex in over 10 months. That wasn't going to help the situation, not having an outlet besides my hand.

It took longer than I expected for my dick to go down and even when it did, it didn't go COMPLETELY down. Still, it was soft enough that I didn't think it was noticable. When I went back downstairs, Janice had moved to the couch in the living room still with her head buried in her phone.

I went to the kitchen, but she'd already cleaned up everything from dinner. Before stepping back into the living room, I said to myself (or, more specifically, to my dick), "Stay calm."

She glanced up from her phone as I came back in. "So, what do you wanna do?" she asked with a smile. There was no innuendo or anything in her voice, but I still felt myself redden slightly as my mind went places it shouldn't. That thought passed, then I turned even redder as I felt more shame about my thoughts.

"Uh, you know me, I'm a stick in the mud. I usually just watch TV after work," I said.

"That sounds good," she said, patting the spot on the couch next to her. I have a recliner that I usually sit in. I took a faltering step towards it, but ended up settling on the couch with her. I made sure to leave a lot of space between us.

The space didn't stay long. She scooted over to me and cuddled up to my side, tucking her legs underneath her. "Thank you again, Daddy," she said. "This means the world to me."

I handed her the remote, and after a moment of figuring it out, she got the TV tuned to some mindless comedy TV show with an overly loud laugh track. I tried to pay attention to it, but her nearness overwhelmed everything.

"So, what's up at your Mom's that made you want to move out?" I asked, trying to get my mind off her soft body against mine.

"A lot of things," she said, not taking her eyes off the TV. "I found some stuff out about her that pissed me off, then her new boyfriend moved in with us. Rick, or as I call him, 'Rick-head.'"

"Why do you call him that?" I asked with a laugh at the pun. Rick-head, dickhead.

"He's bossy," she complained. "He's like fourteen years younger than Mom, and only six years older than me. But the way he sees it, he's the 'MAN OF THE HOUSE' and I have to do what he says. Plus..." Her voice trailed off.

"Plus what?" I prompted.

She turned her head and looked at me. "Plus, he's always coming on to me. Very handsy, especially when Mom's not around. He even told me he could talk her into a threesome with me. I'm sorry, but that's just fucking gross."

"I can understand why you'd want to move out," I said. "Did you tell your Mom about everything?"

"Of course," she said. "She said that I was just reading too much into it. She didn't flat-out call me a liar when I told her about his threesome idea, but she refused to believe it. It's like he's got her wrapped around his finger."

I shrugged. "Well, she did always like aggressive guys."

"You don't come across to me as aggressive. How did you end up getting married to her?" she asked.

"We dated in high school. We weren't sure about getting married, but we did a couple years after graduation. You came along, quite unexpectedly I might add, a year later."

Her eyebrow raised. "Unexpectedly?"

"She didn't want kids," I said. "And it turns out that condoms evidently aren't 100 percent effective, so keep that in mind young lady. But, I'll tell you, she was the most beautiful woman on earth when she was carrying you and you were the most beautiful baby I'd even seen when you were born."

"Awwww," she said, smiling, and hugged my arm tightly. "Am I still beautiful?"

"Of course you are, sweetie," I said. My dick twitched in my pants, agreeing with me.

"So what happened? Why did you split up?"

"Your mother never told you?"

"Mom's priorities when I was growing up was cashing the child support check, keep me away from you, and taking care of whoever her boyfriend was that day," she said. I heard the bitterness in her voice as she said it. "We didn't talk much. There's been a lot of communication the last year or so, but it's not gushy lovey mom and daughter stuff."

"Huh," I grunted. "Well, I was working six and seven days a week, ten to twolve hours a day. I wanted to buy a house for us and the only thing that mattered was making money. When you were almost a year old, I came home one day and the both of you were gone. Found out later that she'd been seeing someone else since even before we were married."

"Jerry Nichols," she said.

I blinked. "I'm surprised you remember his name. He died when you were...what, four? Five?"

She didn't answer, so I continued. "Anyway, it took me a week to find you. I beat the shit out of him. I was really strong back then."

"You still are," she smiled, placing her hand on my bicep and squeezing.

Her touch sent a shiver through me. "Heh," I chuckled nervously. "I was a gorilla back then. Anyway, I got arrested and spent some time in jail. After I got out, I begged her to come home with you. She wouldn't. It was about a year or so before I finally broke down and got the divorce."

"This is cool. We never got to talk like this before," she said with a smile. "And every time I would ask Mom about you and her, she'd shut me down. Said that Jerry was more of a father to me than you were."

"Maybe because I never got the chance?" I said, a bit of unexpected anger ringing in my voice.

"Did you know that she tried to get my last name changed to his?" she asked.

"Yep," I said. "I blew a gasket. Hired a lawyer and threatened to take her back to court for custody. There was no chance in hell I would win, but she knew a lawyer would be expensive. Jerry died in that car crash just before that and she didn't have much money, so she backed off."

"Good for you," she said, hugging my arm again. "I kind of feel special that you fought for me."

"You are special. You're my daughter," I said. "It was important to me."

"So then what happened?" she asked.

"I met Renee and we got married. We were married for about six years, but I still had those money blinders on, working like I had when I was married to your mother. She left me for a guy she worked with that evidently paid more attention to her than I did. Guess I didn't learn my lesson with your Mom."

"So there wasn't anybody after Renee?" she asked.

"Nah," I said. "I, uh, dated a bit but there wasn't anyone that felt 'special'. I had the house by then so I slowed down on the work, I was still nervous about getting into a relationship with someone. Twice bitten, thrice shy, I guess."

She caught the hesitation in my voice when I said "dated" and giggled. "Dated, huh? You mean booty calls???"

"Janice!" I said, laughing. "You don't accuse your old man of having booty calls!"

"I calls 'em like I see's 'em," she snickered. "And there's nothing wrong with booty calls. People have needs, you know. Hell, even I have needs."

Her last sentence took my mind back to places it definitely shouldn't have gone. I suddenly thought that maybe her staying here with me might be a bad idea after all.

We watched TV for the rest of the evening, and about ten o'clock I yawned loudly. "I gotta get to bed," I told her. "Us working stiffs need our sleep. Don't stay up too long."

"Ok, Daddy," she said, laying out fully on the couch after I stood up. I made one mistaken glance at her, seeing her laid out like that, and my dick twitched again.

"GODDAMNIT!" I thought to myself. "STOP IT!"

I went upstairs, stripped down to my boxers, and crawled into bed. I've never had a problem going to sleep, and tonight was no different.

A loud crash woke me about 1:30 in the morning. It took me a moment to realize there was a storm outside, and a pretty good one at that. The first thing I thought was that it was going to fuck work tomorrow. We worked in the rain, but not in a storm like this. And even when we worked in the rain, it slowed everything down. As I started to fall back to sleep, I hoped the storm didn't last very long.

I was woken again by someone shaking my shoulder. "Wh-what?" I said, my voice thick with sleep.

"Daddy, there's a storm," I heard Janice say. There was a tremble in her voice.

I glanced at the clock again: 1:47. "It's ok, sweetheart," I said. "It can't hurt us. Go back to bed."

"It really scares me," she said. "Can I sleep with you?"

That woke me up completely. "That wouldn't be a good idea, sweetie," I said.

"Please?" she pleaded. "Mom always laughed at me for being scared of storms and would never let me sleep with her."

I could hear the fear in her voice. Shit. She was truly terrified. "Behave yourself," I told myself quietly, then said louder to her, "Ok. Only because you're so scared."

She quickly moved the other side of the bed and crawled under the covers without a word. I rolled away from her, and I felt her against my back as she scooted closer to me.

It didn't take her any time at all to fall back asleep. I, on the other hand, laid there for a very long time, acutely aware of her against my back and how close she was to me. Eventually, though, I managed to get back to sleep.

And dreamed. I don't usually dream or, if I do, I don't remember them most of the time. The ones I do remember are the incredibly vivid ones. Like the one I had that night.

I dreamed I was with Caroline and it was early in our marriage, back when we fucked at the drop of a hat. I could feel her full breasts in my hands, her tight wet pussy around my dick, her smooth taut skin against mine. The dream was a mishmash of fondling and sucking and fucking, of soft sweaty skin and heated desire.

I woke, slowly, the dream fresh in my mind. For a moment, it felt like I was still in the dream, yet awake. Suddenly, I realized where I was...in my bed, with my daughter. I was spooned up behind her, my arm thrown over her with my hand cupping one of her breasts through her night shirt. My dick had found it's way out of the leg of my boxers and was hard as a rock, pressed into the cleft of her panty-clad ass.

My heart started pounding from fear of moving and waking her up to find her father against her like this. At the same time, I HAD to untangle myself from her before she DID wake up.

I slowly released her breast and she stirred slightly in her sleep and shifted, making her ass rub against my dick. For one brief, horrifying second, I thought my dick would explode. I forced myself to stillness until she started softly snoring again.

I managed to pull my arm off of her and, oh so very gently, scooted back away from her. I quickly shoved my dick back into my boxers and laid on my back, relieved I'd managed to not wake her.