This is the sixth part of an incest story, taking place between a twenty-six-year-old woman and her father. In fact, every character in this story is over the age of twenty-five.
If you haven't read Sharing a Bed with Daddy, and Sharing a Bed with Daddy Parts Two, Three, Four, and Five, this story will make much more sense if you do.
As with all my stories, this takes place in a happy alternate reality where people don't worry about pandemics, std's, or the need for birth control.
If you're reading this in June of 2022 please check my profile to read about a contest I'm running until the beginning of July.
This series started as an experiment nearly a year ago, and I wasn't sure how the incest would be received, but I wanted to write the sort of incest story that I enjoy reading.
Thanks for your indulgence into one of my kink interests.
Enjoy reading!
IE
~~~
From Part Five:
"Eventually we got out of bed and went downstairs." Aunt Becky told me. "We filled the tub up with hot water and took a bath together. He washed me from head to toe and then I washed him."
"Holy shit." I said.
We'd long ago finished our lunch, and the coffee was long gone as well.
I don't know how long I sat there, listening to that story about how my father and his sister took each other's virginity.
~~
My aunt and I talked longer, sitting there in my hotel room. I had several questions, and she answered them all.
Some of the questions that I had were intensely personal, and absolutely none of my business.
However, since she had caught me fucking my own father, and then proceeded to confess that the two of them had fucked each other regularly all those years ago, I think we both felt entitled to be intensely personal with each other.
Eventually the afternoon turned into early evening, and it was time for one last awkward question.
"How do you feel about my father and I having a sexual relationship?" I asked her. "I don't quite think that 'relationship' is the right word, but we care for each other and that makes it much more than a casual hook up.
"Oh honey, that's none of my business." She said. "I'm not trying to just say the right thing here, but I'm certainly not entitled to, nor interested in, any moral judgements."
She picked up her nearly empty water bottle and drained the last inch of water.
"And," she continued, "you are both grown adults who know how life works. If you're not being dishonest with each other or yourselves about what you're doing, I have no opinions, or advice, or comments to make."
"I largely agree with you." I told her. "And I am perfectly happy to do something that I keep hidden from people who would be bothered by it. But we were careless and now you know. That gives a right to be bothered."
"I suppose you're right." She said slowly. "But the truth is, I'm not bothered."
She reached out and patted my hand.
"If you were in a purely physical relationship with a man who treated you well I'd be happy for you." She said. "And I'd be happy for your father if he were to find a physical relationship with someone who was good to him."
She gathered up the sandwich wrappers from the small hotel room table and pushed them all into the bag they'd come in and smashed the entire thing into a ball of paper and plastic.
"I guess I'm saying that I'm delighted that two people I love are each having fun." She went on. "The fact that they're having fun together doesn't bother me. But most people will be a lot more judgmental than that. I guess you've thought of that though."
"I suppose you're right." I said. "And I don't know what the long-term prospects are for this. I guess I've kept thinking that it might just be something we're enjoying while it's happening, and soon we'll put it behind us and never speak of it again."
"That's probably something you need to talk about with him." She said. "Make sure that neither of you wants it to keep going while the other wants it as a memory."
"You're right." I said a grin. "We care about each other too much to risk any sort of hurt feelings I guess."
"You're both bright enough to figure all that out." She said. "You don't need advice from me on how to be good people. For whatever that may be worth."
She trailed off and smiled, and I understood what she meant.
"It's getting late." I said. "And we've left him wondering how this conversation went for long enough. One of us should go tell him it went okay."
"Why don't you do that?" She said. "I'm exhausted. I think I'm going to go downstairs and get a room, and head back home in the morning. Maybe the three of us could have breakfast?"
"That sounds perfect." I said. "I'll mention that to him tonight."
"I'll walk down with you." She said. "I'll register, and maybe go stroll around the campus to wind down before bed."
"Going to walk past your old apartment and reminisce?" I teased her as we walked toward the elevator.
"None of those memories will help me go to sleep." She laughed.
"No." I agreed. "But they might be fun to take to bed."
By the time we got the lobby we were laughing like old times, in sharp contrast to the sick feeling of dread I'd had walking through here several hours earlier on my way up to my room after she caught me with my father's cock inside me.
"I'll text you later and let you know about breakfast tomorrow." I said. "Feel free to ignore it if you're in bed asleep. Or in bed with a cute college guy."
"If I find a cute college guy I'll definitely answer." She said. "That's something I'd want to brag about. Tell your father I said hello and give him a kiss for me, will you?"
"What kind of kiss?" I asked. "And where?"
"A sisterly kiss." She said, pretending to be serious for a moment. "Although in this family that could be just about any kind of kiss. And it could involve any number of body parts."
I laughed and went out to my car.
As I pulled out of the lot, I wondered exactly what she'd meant by her earlier comment about old habits dying hard?
~
I knocked on my dad's front door as I pushed it open.
"Back here!" he called from the kitchen. "Who is it?"
"Just me Daddy!" I called.
I heard water running in the kitchen and realized that his water had been fixed.
"I'm alone." I told him, as he turned shut off the faucet and turned to face me.
"You and Becky have a chance to talk?" he asked.
"We did." I said. "We had a good talk, and she and I are okay. How about you I though? Are we okay?"
"I hope so." He said. "I hate thinking that maybe I messed things up."
