Thansgiving Stuffing

A few days later it's Thanksgiving prep time. I wake Megan at seven a.m. and she moans and groans that she needs more time for sleep, and I chidingly tell her she shouldn't have stayed up so late playing video games.

"Can we get faster internet?" She asks, rolling over underneath the covers.

"I... don't know. Why?" I ask, spotting the honey bottle sitting on the nightstand of her dresser, and the fact that it's almost completely empty. "Is that the honey?" I ask, pointing at it. "From the kitchen?"

"Yeah," she says innocently. "You left it in here."

"Where did all the honey go?" I ask, and then I narrow my eyes at her, and then I smile. "Are you just, eating honey? Right out of the bottle?"

Megan's face turns deep red, but she nods, her eyes transfixed on mine.

"Well, we'll need to get more I suppose. That's almost empty."

"Okay," Megan says softly, and then she smiles up at me. "The internet is slow. I want to do some live streams."

"Oh. Well, I can find out how much it's going to cost, but you'll need to help me with the woodworking to pay for it."

"I'll pay for it," she says, rolling over again and reaching into her purse, which she just got in the mail yesterday. She hands me a credit card and I look at it, dumbfounded.

"What is this?" I ask.

"Money," she says. "There's a couple hundred bucks on it. Is that enough?"

"Well, It should be," I say, still staring at the card. "How did you get this?"

"I redeemed some rewards online, and then I registered it and put money on it from my account."

"What account?" I ask.

"Oh! I do twitch!" She says excitedly, and she whips the covers back and slides to the end of the bed, grabs her game controller and headset, and then powers up her console with the push of a button. She signs in, switches through some things, and then shows me a library of videos she's captured of her playing the games I bought her. "Look. On this one, I have so many people and so many likes... I've made fifty bucks on this one video."

"How?" I ask, confused. "People pay to watch your videos?"

"They can do that, or they can subscribe, or they send me money."

"They just send you money," I ask in disbelief.

"Yeah. I play games, they watch... and they send me money." I shake my head. "Oh, and I've got a camera and a boom mic. Coming in the mail tomorrow. Just so you don't think, like, what's going on with these packages."

I nod and then realize Megan is wearing a one-piece teddy made of thin black lace, something I have never seen before. "What are you wearing?"

Megan looks down and then pulls her headset off and lays it on the bed next to her. She turns and puts a leg up on the bed, bent at an angle, and smiles up at me. "It's one of the surprises," she says in a soft sultry voice. "How do you like it?"

I swallow nervously and again, try to hide my body's knee-jerk reaction. She stands up, and slides her fingers into the teddy, pulling the material down and over her breasts and then tucking it under and it lifts each one of them into the perfect position. I watch as she reaches down between her legs, and does the same thing, making sure the material is smooth against her sex, pressing the middle of the teddy into her slit just enough that it's noticeable, and then lifting her gaze to meet mine. She slowly turns back and forth, smiling. "So?"

"It looks... amazing," I say.

Megan smiles and slides off the bed, coming right up to me and placing a hand on my chest. The move is something I would expect from a girlfriend, or a lover, or... a wife. Not my daughter.

"Do you really like it?" She asks, lifting her eyes to stare into mine. "If you don't like it... I can take it back."

"No. No, it's good," I say, smiling.

"Do you want to feel it?" I give Megan a wry smirk and she giggles. "I'm serious. You should feel it. It's amazing. It's so soft and silky. It feels like... like... really soft and silky."

"I'll take your word for it," I say, feeling highly embarrassed.

"What's wrong?" Megan asks suspiciously.

"I'm just... I don't want to... I don't want to get you upset."

"Upset?" Megan asks. "Why would I get upset?"

"I don't know," I say, my face burning with embarrassment. "Because you're my little girl. Because you're all grown up now, and you're this... hot... thing."

"You think I'm hot?" She asks, a giant smile creasing her face.

"Oh, there's nobody on this planet that doesn't think you're hot," I say. "And... I have to realize... you're an adult now. I mean, I look at you and... and I just think... wow."

Megan smiles even wider and she puts her hands behind her back and slowly turns side to side. Somehow, her nipples have gone from flat to stiff hard peaks underneath the teddy, and she bites her bottom lip, staring at me. "I'm not going to get upset," she says. "I want you to feel it. Tell me how soft it is."

I want to say no, but she reaches out and takes my hand, the one without the pre-paid credit card, and she pulls it to her left breast.

Her body is so soft, and warm, and the teddy is like silk against her skin. My fingers wrap around her breast, my thumb sliding over her nipple as I squeeze and relish the feeling of pure bliss in my hand.

"See?" Megan says, looking up at me as I continue squeezing and even running my thumb back and forth across her nipple. "Isn't it nice?"

"Amazing," I say, my cock now hard as steel in my pants.

"You can use the other hand," she says, and she grabs it, pulls the prepaid card out of my fingers, and puts that one on her other breast. Now I have her in both hands, and I gently squeeze and knead her tits, sliding my thumbs back and forth across her nipples, and even pinching them between my thumb and forefinger before Megan gasps and pulls her tits away, her face turning red.

"Sorry, sorry!" I say, fearing I've gone too far. I swear at myself, but Megan just smiles and giggles.

"You squeeze my nipples like that," she says playfully, "and I'll cum."

My dick jumps in my pants and I realize, at that very moment, I want to fuck her. I want to turn her around, pull the teddy away from her smooth-shaven mound and plow my cock into her pussy. I grit my teeth, trying to regain control, but it's harder done than said or thought.

"You wanna feel the bottom part?" She asks, and I swallow hard. I can't. I won't. If I touch her pussy now, I won't stop. I know I won't stop. And I have to stop. "Here," she says, grabbing my hand and pulling it between her thighs. She slides my fingers down her curving abdomen, and there's a little dip, and then her mound flares out. My fingers feel the divot where her crease begins, and I don't waste any time. I press my fingers into her slit, running them down the length of her, burying the teddy material deep inside her divide. I stop when I feel her hot wet hole parted on both sides, inviting my fingers inside of her, but I pull them back, mastering my willpower. I draw my slightly dampened fingers back up the teddy, pressing it tight, making sure it stays tucked between her inner lips, and as my fingers come out of her slit, I grab her clit between my thumb and forefinger, hooking my knuckle underneath the bottom edge, and I pinch it.

"Uuuggh!" Megan gasps, and her legs tremble. Her knees give out for a split second before she catches herself, and brings herself upright.

"Wow. That does feel nice," I say softly and Megan's eyes come up to lock on mine again. Her pupils widen, shrink, and widen again. I see the space between her lips part just a bit more, and her tongue wets her lips, snaking out quickly and then she bites her bottom lip, and turns around.

"I, uh..." she says quickly, searching for something. "I... need to get dressed."

"Your dresser is over here," I say, taking a step back.

"Oh yeah," she says, and she walks over to it now, and I see she's walking funny, like, she's never experienced anything like what I just made her feel. I wonder about it then. Obviously, she's not a virgin. She has no hymen and, while she might not be experienced, is it possible she's never had an orgasm? She said playing with her nipples would make her cum... but does she know that for sure? Has she ever had it happen? For real?

She sets the card down on the dresser and I take it. She opens her top drawer and pulls out a pair of jean shorts and starts putting them on.

"I'm going to the kitchen. I'm going to start prepping the turkey. There's a bunch of cans on the counter. I want you to open each one of them, and drain the water, okay?"

Megan glances up at me and she nods, and then hurries to pull her shorts the rest of the way up.

"You okay?" I ask her.

"Y-Yeah," she says, and she makes a move, turning like she wants to give me a kiss, but then turns back to the drawer, and then she reopens it grabs a t-shirt out, and begins pulling it over her head.

"Alright. I'll go check on the internet thing first," I say, and I turn around and head to my office to check my internet and cable and see about upgrading. It's not that much more, so I put in the change, click submit, and I'm finished.

A few minutes pass. I come back into the kitchen to see Megan standing at the counter, silent. She has this weird look on her face, but she's already opened all of the cans and has drained every last one of them.

"You did all of these already?" I ask.

"Yeah. That's what you wanted, right?"

"Yes," I say, nodding. I grab her arm and rub it affectionately, and then give her a kiss on the top of the head and I think I hear her give a little moan in response, but when I glance at her, she's still got that weird look on her face.

I make us both some scrambled eggs, so we don't have to work on an empty stomach, and then we eat quickly, at the counter, and I wash our dishes off and put them in the drying rack like they were never used.

"You want to peel the potatoes?" I ask.

"How?" She replies.

"You never peeled potatoes before?" I ask. "How is that even possible?"

"Mom always buys microwave ones," Megan says, and I shake my head.

"Here. I'll show you how," I say, and I grab the ten-pound bag of potatoes out of the potato crate and dump them into the sink. "First, we turn on the water. Not a lot of water mind you, just enough for a thin stream, like this," I say, and I show her how to work the faucet, and then I slide the drawer open to my left and grab the potato peeler.

"Alright. We start off by holding the potato in the left hand. You're right-handed, right?"

"Yeah," Megan says, nodding.

"Alright. So, you're going to place the blade at the tip of the potato, up here, and pull toward you. The peel will come off down here, and you just rotate the potato a bit, like this, and peel it again."

"What if I miss a spot?" she asks.

"It's not rocket science sweetie. Just go over it, and peel it until almost all the peel is gone. And then, you can peel the ends like this," I say, quickly shaving the remaining peel off before tossing the peeled potato into a nearby pot. "If you need to get the potato wet, use the water. That's why you have it running. To wash the potato off."

I have Megan to peeler and step back. I watch as she tries to peel the next potato, but it's clear to me that she's not using enough force. It's almost like she's scared to cut her hand.

"No, hold on," I say, stepping right up behind her. "Here," I say, and I reach around her to hold my hand over hers, and grab her hand holding the peeler, and I grip her hand tightly under my own. "Hold onto it. Don't let it go," I say.

"Okay," she replies.

"Alright. We put the peeler at the top, and pull down."

Megan drops the peeler and shoves herself backward against me as if I'm trying to stab her.

"What are you doing?" I ask sharply as she turns around and then looks down at the ground. "Seriously. What are you doing?"

"I don't want to get cut," she says.

"Baby. Look," I say, showing her the peeler. "Yes, it has a blade, but it's... not like that. When you pull it back, you're pulling toward the wrist, and it won't cut you. Look," I say, pulling the peeler back and forth but not putting any pressure on it. "Also, because the potato is round, you're not pressing in any way. That's why the peels come off because you're pulling the blade away."

I motion toward the sink and then gently spin her back toward it. I pull my right hand back to give her a playful swat on the ass, but then I remember what she said. She doesn't like to be spanked. I grab her right ass cheek and squeeze it tight, pulling it up, and Megan squeals in surprise.

"You said to just grab it," I say, stepping up behind her again.

"I did," she says softly.

"Alright. Now pick up the potato, and this time, don't let go." I show her how to peel the potato again, and this time, she doesn't jerk her hands away. The peel comes off and falls into the sink, and then I do it again, and again, only I'm using Megan's hands to do the peeling. "Okay. The potato is almost completely peeled. What do you do?"

"Toss it in the pot," Megan says.

"No. You wash it off first. Then you toss it in the pot."

Megan nods and I show her how to peel the next potato, and the one after that. "You think you can handle it?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says, and I feel her rub her ass against me playfully.

"Mmmm. This butt," I say, stepping out of the way and to the side. "How did you get such a big ass?"

She turns her face to me as if I've said something wrong, but my hand is already squeezing her buttocks, hard, and she squeals again.

"Daddy!"

I laugh, and she turns back to the potatoes, the weird smile forming on her lips again. I grab Turkey out of the refrigerator and start making the necessary preparations, cutting the bag open and pulling out the package of livers, gizzard, heart, kidneys, and neck.

"What is that?" Megan asks as I toss the neck into a pan, along with the rest of the things I'm going to throw away.

"What does it look like?" I ask, cutting off the tail and tossing it in the pan too.

"Turkey Dick?"

I laugh. "It's the neck," I say, cleaning the rest of the turkey out and making sure there's nothing left inside. I spray it out with the hand sprayer and then start patting it dry with a clean towel.

Megan continues peeling potatoes while I finish prepping the turkey and making the green bean casserole, and the yams. I'm working on a batch of brownies when she finally finishes and announces that the potatoes are done.

"Now, it's time to cut them up."

"Cut them up?" Megan asks. "Why do we need to cut them up?"

"Because that way they cook faster," I say. "We cut them up, let them soak overnight, and then tomorrow when we take them to Hattie's, all we have to do is bring them to a boil, drain them, mash them, mix em with some butter and milk, and they're ready to be eaten."

"So... we're going to Aunt Hattie's tomorrow?"

"Yes," I say, nodding. "Tomorrow is Thanksgiving."

Megan frowns for a moment, and then the frown slowly disappears.

"Did you have plans?" I ask her.

"Mmmm, noooo," she says lazily. "I mean, other than playing games and live streaming, no."

"You can do that stuff the day after tomorrow," I say as I grab the cutting board and a knife from the block.

"We're staying the night?"

"Yes," I say softly. "I told you about this too."

"I... I know," she says sullenly.

"Well, I asked Hattie if she had two rooms that were close, and she said the best she could do is three-"

Megan looks over at me and shakes her head.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Why do we have to have separate rooms?" Megan asks. "Doesn't she have a room with, like... a bed and a couch? Or even a chair? A recliner?"

"I... I suppose she does. Why? You don't want to stay in your own room?"

"No!" Megan says a bit too sharply and I give her a warning look. "No Daddy. I don't even know Aunt Hattie. The last time I saw her I was super little and... I don't want to stay in another room."

"Well... it's pretty late now. How about this? We'll take a look when we get there. If one of the rooms had a pull-out, or a couch or a recliner or something-"

"I'll sleep on the floor if I have to," Megan offers.

"Well, if anyone ends up sleeping on the floor, it's going to be me," I say promisingly. "You don't have to worry about that."

Megan smiles and nods her head. "Thank you, Daddy."

I smile, enjoying the fact that she seems to be getting into the habit of calling me Daddy instead of what her mother had always told her to call me, which is either Mr. Travis or Mr. Tate.

"You wanna make cookies to bring?" I ask after I show Megan how to cut the potatoes into similar-sized chunks.

"Oooo, yeah," she says, and I start pulling ingredients out of the cupboards and beneath the countertops. "What is all that?"

"Ingredients," I say.

"For what?" She asks.

"Cookies. You said you wanted to make cookies."

"I thought you just take the package out of the fridge, break em up, and put them on the cookie sheet."

"You've never made cookies from scratch?" I ask and she shakes her head no. "Well... you're in for a treat," I say, and I start measuring out ingredients into small bowls and placing them on the counter.

"Cookies are a couple of basic ingredients. Butter, flour, salt, sugar, eggs. That's it. You add vanilla, chocolate chips, nuts, all of that extra stuff, to change how the cookie tastes." I crack a few eggs, toss in a couple sticks of butter, add white sugar, brown sugar, salt, and vanilla extract, and start whipping it in a bowl.

"Oh my gosh!" Megan says, leaning over to get a closer look. "That smells so good."

"Oh, it's even better, if you try it. It has raw egg in it, so you really shouldn't eat a lot of it, but the eggs are fresh so it shouldn't be a problem." I bring the whisk over to Megan and put it in front of her. "You wanna try it?"

"You said it has raw egg," she says.

"Open your mouth," I say, and she slowly parts her lips. I push a bit of the batter between her lips with the whisk and she closes her mouth, and then her eyes open wide.

"Wow," she says, licking the rest of the sugary batter from her lips. "That is good!"

"I know," I say smartly, and I head back to the bowl.

"No, no! Bring that back," she says, racing around the countertop to get another taste.

"Uh-uh! They say for every taste you take now, it's like a full cookie out of the oven."

"Are you serious?" She asks, stopping right at my chest.

"Pretty serious," I say, glancing down into the bowl. "I mean... I guess I could spare another little bite."

She opens her mouth and tips her head back, sticking her tongue out like some sort of panting puppy and I laugh at her. "Stick your tongue back in," I say. "You're not..." I stop speaking before I can utter the words, "a porn star".

"I am," Megan says, opening her mouth again. "Come on. Put it in my mouth."

I raise both my eyebrows, something she clearly misses, but then I grab the wisk and put a dollop of batter into her mouth. She closes her lips and slowly moves her mouth in a chewing motion, savoring the sweet vanilla batter.

"Good?" I ask.

Megan nods and turns around to walk away, and I see her ass hanging out of her shorts once again. I can't resist. I grab her right ass cheek and squeeze it, hard, and she yelps and jumps forward. I chuckle as she hurries around the counter, and when she goes back to cutting potatoes, she has the same weird smile on her face.

I add the flour, baking powder, and chocolate chips, mix the batter up, roll cookie balls onto a parchment paper-lined cookie sheet, and set the oven to 350.

"When the timer goes off, let me know," I say, heading off to the bathroom.

"Alright Daddy," Megan says.

When I return from the bathroom, I find the oven smoking, and a moment later, the fire alarm starts blaring. I rush to the oven, shut it off, and hit the ventilation fan, and then I rush about opening windows and doors to air out the smoke. I check the oven and see the cookies inside are completely burned. My anger flares. Now, I'm pissed.