All characters are at least 18
It was about 6 in the evening. My wife had just started supper, telling me it would take a while to finish it, and that I could watch TV for a bit.
As I sat on the couch I realized our daughter, Mindy, wasn't in the living room. It was customary for us to watch the news together, but I figured the 18-year old senior in high school had homework to finish up. Since she'd had a dream from a young age to be a news anchor, she would pick apart every word coming from the man (or woman) on whichever broadcast was on. And she would insist that she wanted to watch every channel to get the nuances of the anchors. She'd said she never wanted to be biased, but to just report the news.
I didn't smell anything cooking, but since I had allergies and it was springtime, so it was possible my olfactory wasn't as acute as it typically was. I thought it odd that I hadn't heard any pots and pans rattling, but I also knew that when I watched TV, I often ignored things going on around me.
The program was almost over, when Jean, my wife, told me to call Mindy, that dinner would be on the table in half an hour. I called from the landing, but got no response.
"Mindy, honey, supper's almost ready."
Nothing. I started to call again, but figured she had headphones on and it would be easier for me to hear if I was closer.
"Well, go on up there. Come on now. I don't want anything getting cold," Jean said with a smirk I thought unusual, but I shrugged and went upstairs.
The door to Mindy's room was ajar, even more than open a little. I pushed the door a little farther. I normally knocked, but if she was listening to music, she might not have heard me.
I stopped in my tracks, my jaw dropping to the floor. Mindy was laying on her back, her legs spread, her left hand in between them, her bra pulled down below her boobs and her right hand massaging her left tit.
I was proud of Mindy. Not only did she have great grades, but the girl was smart as a whip, witty and could hold an intelligent conversation with the most well-versed adult. And although I often felt funny thinking of her this way, she had one hell of a nice body. Flat stomach, full, well-developed breasts and a butt to die for. But she was my daughter, and there were some lines I never even thought of crossing.
But seeing her now, in the throes of a very heated moment, I started to shake. She didn't seem to be aware of my presence. I stared at her prone body quivering, moans emanating from her full lips, groaning that was loud enough to wake up a rooster. I didn't understand why her mama didn't hear the sounds coming from her room, but I stood there, almost soporific, nearly in a stupor, unable to move as she fingered her private parts. I couldn't pull myself away, watching her, feeling lecherous and guilty for the bulge stirring in my pants, but still I watched for what must have been a full five minutes. Not sure how I did it, but I was finally able to shake myself out of my semiconsciousness and close the door. Then I knocked. There was a rustling of blankets in Mindy's room.
"Ye, yes?"
I called through the door I'd left just partially open to tell her dinner was almost ready.
"Come in, daddy," she said. Both scared and intrigued, not knowing what condition I would find my daughter in, I opened the door wide.
Mindy's smile was as broad as I knew it to be. She was seated up, but the quilt was pulled up completely, which I was grateful for. I had an internal conflict going on. My prurient side wanted to see her again, but my parental side was berating that part of me. Oh, come on Jack, she's your daughter. You ain't supposed to see your adult girl naked. But the darker part was egging me on. Go on Jack. Show her what a man can do.
"Uh, um, I mean, oh for heaven's sake, it's almost time to eat."
"Oh, okay daddy."
We ate our food silently as though we'd just had an argument, with Jean droning on about her day. The reason I hadn't heard pots and pans and could smell no food cooking was because it was just a salad dished out, which was fine with me. Neither one of us was vegetarian, but we all enjoyed a big salad now and again. After eating we sat around the table, eventually breaking the awkward silence with small talk. We wound up talking till nearly midnight. Mindy excused herself, said she had class in the morning.
"Daddy, would you like to tuck me in? It's kinda cool tonight."
I hadn't heard my daughter ask me to do that since she was little, but it was chilly and damp, so I didn't think that much about it. "Sure honey. I'll be right up. Did you want me to read you a bedtime story, too?" I asked with a hint of sarcasm, my laugh telling her I was really just kidding.
"No thanks. But if you'd like to tell me a dirty one, that'd be fine."
I raised an eyebrow and looked at my wife, who pretended not to hear that exchange, but she had a slight but unmistakable smirk easing across her lips.
Mindy went to bed. I gave her a few minutes to get ready, then tried not to be too eager to follow her, but that darker, salacious side wanted to see her diddle herself some more.
Damnit, Jack, she's your own flesh and blood. Get those filthy thoughts out of your head this instance.
Mindy was in bed, her blankets pulled tightly around her. I tucked the covers around her, then turned to leave.
"Daddy," she said before I started pulling the door shut.
"Yes, honey?"
"Did you enjoy the show?"
If my mouth could have dropped my jaw might have broken. I was tempted to ask her what she was talking about, but I'd never treated my daughter like an idiot, and I wasn't going to start now, but I had no idea what to say. Why yes, Mindy, I did and wanted to feel you up even more than you were doing yourself.
