Author's note: This is a work of fiction, any similarity to reality is coincidental and unintended. All parties are 18 or over.
Author's note 2: I know this story doesn't really fall into the category of incest perse but I wanted to keep all the parts of it together.
If you haven't read chapter 1 (First Touch) already - you probably should as it provides some of the background information.
...
A little over a month had passed since the events I wrote about in chapter 1 took place. I was still torn between the love of my family and an inescapable desire to go further with my daughter Samantha. I fought with myself daily, going back and forth uncertain about how she felt, too afraid to talk to her about it, and my fears for what trying to go further would mean for my family - whether she welcomed my advances or not.
If Sam did want me to go further, and I did so I would be cheating on my wife, a woman I love dearly. I have watched days worth of incest videos, read countless stories about incest and that one theme always seems to be missing from them all.
The sly daughter seduces the "unwilling" father whose only reply is "what if your mother finds out". The father who slowly convinces the daughter saying "Don't tell mom" The sudden and unavoidable romance between two family members destined to be lovers... there is never a mention of "this isn't right because its cheating" or "no I love your mother!"
Then again, what if she didn't want me to go further? What if she really was the idyllic young woman, unwise to the desires of men; just allowing my advances out of an unconditional but completely benign love for her stepfather? What if I shattered that love? Would she ever forgive me?
I was torn. These were the thoughts that racked my mind in the span between the events that I have already written about and those that are to come below. Luckily, work provided something of a distraction. I don't think I mentioned it before - but the department I oversee provides technical support and training for some fairly high-end entertainment systems across the country. I was sent on a three week cross country tour to oversee the upgrade of many of the installations.
Of the three week tour, only one event stands out that is worth mentioning here: During my trips, I try to keep in contact with my family at night via Skype; especially with my son who is still too young to really grasp the length of time I am sometimes gone for. One night near the end of the trip I was talking to my son when my wife told him it was time to get ready for bed. He said a quick "Good night" and then passed the video camera to Sam as he ran for the stairs.
"Hi" Sam said, staring off into the distance toward the television. I could tell she was wearing that same Cinderella top she'd been wearing nearly three weeks prior. "Hey honey. How's it going?" I asked. "Good." "How's school?" "Good" "How's dance?" "Good. We're doing rehearsals." "Oh? When's the recital?"
Still staring off toward the tv she replied "Two weeks." And then she looked sad.
"What's wrong Sam?" I asked noticing the change immediately.
She was silent for long while, as if thinking it over.
"Will you be home to see it?" She asked, suddenly staring directly into the camera.
"I wouldn't miss it."
That seemed to put a smile on her face. "Good." She added, back to her usual cheerful self. We sat without talking for the next few minutes; almost as if we were sitting together and just enjoying each others company.
"Okay. I'm gonna get ready for bed." Sam said after the silence had dragged on for several minutes.
"Okay honey. Have a good night. I'll be home in three days." "Good." Sam said smiling, facing directly into the camera again. "Good?" I asked. Sam looked down toward her breasts, a large grin spreading across her face.
"My shoulders are sore." She said quickly, then looked up and winked into the camera before hanging up.
My jaw nearly embedded itself into the ground six floors below as I stared at the black screen for a space of time I could not guess at. My mind was racing. Even I could not possibly misinterpret her meaning. Sam had clearly understood what was going on that night, and what's more, she obviously wanted it to happen again!
Excitement crashed over me in a sudden wave. I hardly slept at all that night.
The rest of the trip continued on uneventfully, and I returned home three days later shortly before dinnertime. Despite her own work schedule - Jessica was busy putting the finishing touches on dinner when I came in.
"Daddy!" Michael screamed, nearly knocking me over as he jumped at me. He had run twenty feet in what seemed half a second as soon as he heard the front door open. He wrapped his arms around my legs and it was several minutes before I could convince him to let go.
I walked into the kitchen, Michael following me as if uncertain whether I would disappear suddenly again. Jessica was sliding chicken pieces from a pan when I stepped behind her. I leaned over her shoulder and she rested her head back onto me as we kissed. I squeezed her right but cheek, and she deftly swatted my hand away.
"No, none of that." She admonished, a sly grin on her face.
"Dinner before dessert." She added, returning to the task. Within a couple minutes, she had prepared three plates and set them out on the waiting dinner table.
"Sam's at Erin's till tomorrow." Jessica called, returning briefly to the kitchen as I poured a California Merlot into our two glasses. I did my best to keep my disappointment hidden.
The rest of the evening was spent catching up on the last three week's events. I cleared the table and did the dishes while Jessica finally had a few minutes to relax, I read Michael two stories - he insisting one simply wasn't enough, and I headed towards our room for bed.
Clearly, Jessica had other ideas.
As I entered our bedroom, I discovered a sign on my pillow that simply read "Downstairs. Clothing optional."
I smiled, ever amazed at how Jessica never failed to surprise me.
I tossed my clothes into the hamper as I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror. In the last ten years, the bathroom scales had failed to show more than a couple pounds difference in my weight, though it seemed to me that the weight had shifted some towards the center. I stood 5' 6" and 175 pounds, with short slightly thinning brown hair. I doubt very much if many people besides my wife or my mother would describe me as overly handsome, but I don't think I'm too hard on the eyes either.
