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Okay” I said.
“Okay?” She asked. “You’re not fucking with me, you’ll really take her?”
“Yeah, My house is kind of small and she’ll probably be miserable but I’ll do it. Is Chelsey going be cool about moving halfway across the country to live in po-dunk Oklahoma with her long lost dad?”
“She’s in no position to veto anything Jack. Besides, I’m moving to Chile with Manuel and she’s just 16 so we can’t just abandon her.” Brenda said.
I stared at my cell phone which was on speaker on the kitchen table in front of me and felt like telling my ex wife that I felt that that’s exactly what I thought she was doing to our teenage daughter. But I knew that would just start an argument like the hundreds of arguments we’ve had in person and on the phone over the past decade and a half. Brenda had met this Manuel dude at work he’d been brought in temporarily a year ago from her company’s South American branch to Fresno California where my ex worked and they quickly became “soulmates” as she put it. Fresno was where we grew up. Who was I to stop her? My daughter had told me in one of our rare phone conversations that he was a pretty decent guy and had some money and seemed to really like Brenda so moving to Chile to marry him was probably a good move for her. Brenda’s grandmother had died so I’m all she has besides her mom.
I guess I should give you some background. Brenda and I were high school sweethearts and I knocked her up in our junior year. Her grandmother was raising her and would hear nothing about Brenda getting an abortion so 2 days after I got my license at 17 I became a father to a baby girl. Brenda would stay at home with the baby and finish school online and I took extra classes so I could graduate early, start working, and we could get married and start our marital bliss. My only family was my old man and we hated each other so my new wife and child would be my future life.
Well as you can guess it didn’t work out that way. We did get married and moved into an apartment but soon our immaturity and poverty led to endless fighting and infidelity on both our parts. A divorce followed and she moved back in with her grandmother and I lived with a buddy from school. Over the next few years I played part time dad to Chelsey. We had the standard dad daughter weekends at amusement parks and teaching her to ride a bike and stuff and I got a job with a big national construction company. Me and the ex still fought about everything and when Chelsey was eight Brenda told the court that she was in fear of me which got visitation with my daughter revoked. That pissed me off so badly that I said, “Fuck it” and took a transfer to a better job the company had in some little town I never heard of in Oklahoma working at a big concrete plant.
Things worked out decent for me in Oklahoma. I worked at the plant and also started working part time for an old guy who had a carpet cleaning business. A couple years later he wanted to retire so I quit my main job and he sold me the business. Business was good and I bought an older 2-bed, 1-bath house on a couple acres off a country road with farmers fields all around and put a big security/privacy wall around the property and eventually an in ground lap pool with a round area at one end in back of the house. When the construction guys finished the pool we all got a laugh because it was kind of shaped like a penis with a big ball sack at one end. In the 8 years since leaving California I only returned to visit once when Chelsey was 12. I hadn’t even looked at her social media because I felt kind of shitty moving away even though her mom instigated it plus I just didn’t want to be reminded about my past.
One train wreck of a marriage and one kid I never see was enough so I swore off marrying again and got a vasectomy. Dating was mostly a waste of time and I soon found it was easier to just fuck some of the single, and married women I’d meet when I did their carpets. As you can tell, I’m not an angel but I guess I justify it by telling myself that if they didn’t cheat with me it would be with someone else. I’m not some super attractive, suave player by any means but I turned my garage into a home gym and use it regularly plus 4 mile runs a few times a week and a healthy diet keep me lean. I’m not real tall about 5’10’’ but I still have a thick head of messy blonde hair and a decent shaved face. Women don’t complain about my medium width seven inch shaved circumcised cock with its mushroom head or the pretty big loads I shoot either. In addition to, and especially when I don’t have access to a woman, I watch a lot of porn and read a bunch of erotic literature online. One of my guilty pleasures is father daughter incest stories and the fake “step daddy” videos. My other vice is drinking and a little weed. I only drink hard alcohol every couple weeks at home and only if I have the next day off because I usually get plastered and sometimes do stupid shit that I regret the next day.
I currently have a thirty year old chick that I see that’s married to a much older banker guy from the next town over. He spends all his time making money and traveling around the world to take pictures of himself with exotic fish he catches so he only fucks her a few times a year and doesn’t seem to care what extra curricular activities she has as long as she plays the dutiful wife at public functions. She’s really into rough “forced” sex and although I initially played along to make her happy I grew to like it too. I think hidden somewhere in every man’s mind is an instinct to conquer and to relish taking things by force.
So I wasn’t real enthusiastic about my comfortable and somewhat pleasurable life being interrupted by my teen daughter coming to live with me. Chelsey has her own troubles. A few months ago she had gotten knocked up by some boy at school at the same age her mom did. Brenda got her the Plan B pill and started her on birth control pills. She had also been staying out, drinking, and Brenda had even found some weed in her laundry. As salty about the world as I am it still surprised me because I guess I still thought of Chelsey as a little girl.
A month after I agreed to have my estranged daughter come live with me I was pulling my Tacoma into the short term parking at Will Rogers Airport in Oklahoma City. The early July Midwest heat had me starting to sweat before I had reached the air conditioning of the terminal. I had left early to avoid possible traffic delays but it was smooth sailing so I had a solid thirty minutes before her flight arrived from California. I was kind of nervous. I had never really been a father at home raising anything more then a baby and now I would have a sixteen year old living with me full time for at least the next 2 years. I had searched for Chelsey’s social media because I really didn’t know what she currently looked like but after she got pregnant her mom had flipped out and made her scrub all her online stuff. My own daughter could walk by me on the street and I doubt I’d recognize her. Would our blood ties have us bonding in no time like we’d never been apart or would we be strangers that happen to share a house? The 767 nosing up to the gate broke me from my thoughts.
She was one of the last passengers to come out of the gangway. I was only positive it was her because she was the sole teenage girl that was alone and even closely resembled the 12 year old I had seen on my last trip to California. Four years had changed Chelsey dramatically. She had the same somewhat pretty face just more mature but the skinny pre pubescent girl that I had briefly visited a few years before had filled out into a developed young woman. She still had shoulder length blond hair but her flat chest now sprouted full sized C+ breasts that stood out proudly under her white T shirt. Her flat hips were now full and wide and when she turned looking around for me I could see her beautiful round high ass encased in tight shorts all held up by a pair of full, smooth, somewhat muscular legs. She had voluptuous figure without being fat. Brenda was thin and barely filled out an A cup so Chelsey clearly had the genes of the women on my side of the family. I noticed just about every other man, and a few women checking her out as I was. “Wait Jack, that’s your daughter not some piece of jailbait you check out when you pass the high school on the way home from work!”
I broke from my spell and called her name and she came over to me and we hugged awkwardly. All of her belongings were being shipped so she only had a carry on. The hour drive back home was mostly quiet I could tell Chelsey was a bit nervous. I had warned her my house wasn’t real big and that she’d probably find rural Oklahoma boring. “We just had an apartment and the neighborhood is getting overrun with gangs and the crime is getting worse so I don’t think I’ll mind a little bit of boring cow country.” When I asked about her friends she gave a little snort. “They’re pieces of crap. They all spread it around school that I got pregnant and made fun of me even though they were all fucking as much or more than me.” I thought about saying something about her language but as I said, I was never an angel myself. I noticed Chelsey had a couple piercings in each ear and a small diamond stud in her left nostril. She clearly wasn’t a little girl anymore.
Two years later:
“She did it again” I shook my head seeing that instead of parking in the carport next to my Tacoma, Chelsey had parked the white Mustang I had bought her a year ago on her seventeenth birthday right in front of the cleaning supply shed I park my business van in front of. It was Saturday and a local office building wanted their carpets done while no one was there. I started early and was done by noon and was looking forward to being home for the rest of the day. “I’ll swim some laps in the pool, have a cold beer, and make myself a nice thick ham sandwich.” Walking past the dirty Mustang I saw Chelsey still hadn’t cleaned out all her clothes, food wrappers and other crap that was piled up inside the used, but formerly pristine little car I paid nearly $16,000 for. She also never explained how the dent appeared in the corner of the rear bumper but I’m pretty sure she backed into something and then just drove off. She had promised up and down she would take care of the Mustang but even trying to show her how to do basic maintenance like oil changes and checking tire pressure was a waste of time so I did it myself so the car wouldn’t break down.
Walking into the house I could see her bedroom door was open so that meant she was in the garage/exercise room or more likely lounging out by the pool. A month ago when she graduated high school with a C average I had flat out told her that since she wasn’t college bound I wanted her working full time but with like almost everything else with my daughter, she responded with a “modest” amount of effort. She had increased her hours at the coffee shop from 16 to 32 and complained that it left her no time for life. Chelsey’s life basically revolved around her barely full time job, endless interaction with her phone, television, hanging out with her only friend Alyssa, and loitering around the house and pool. Even getting her to do half of the housework was a constant battle. One constructive habit I had managed to instill in her was to start working out with light weights and regularly running on the treadmill in my exercise room. In addition she would go to aerobics at the health club when she was in the mood.
It was then that I saw the empty cold cut wrappers on the counter. “That little bitch ate the last of my ham and Swiss cheese! Well fuck, there goes my sandwich.” I stomped out the old French doors onto the back patio and pool area and found Chelsey doing exactly what I thought she would be doing which was laying in a lounge chair with a Diet Coke listening to her ear buds under one of the big triangle shaped shade cloths I’d set up above the pool area to give some protection from the harsh Oklahoma sun. “Chelsey, did you have to finish off all my cold cuts!?” “But dad I was hun-greee!” She said as she gave me her patented wide eyed pleading look biting her lower lip that I’m sure had gotten her out of trouble numerous times including a bunch of occasions with me. “I swear, you eat more than a NFL lineman. Jesus!”
One of my other small victories with Chelsey was to improve her diet from the processed crap her mother raised her on over to much more nutritious food. I considered myself decent in the kitchen and by the copious amount of my cooking my daughter ate I could tell she thought so too. The fact that she ate so much yet had the body of a stripper was something physiologists at the university should probably study. As I said my daughter had the opposite type of body of her mom who was built like a distance runner. Chelsey was slightly shorter 5’7’’ and thicker but was thick and rounded in all the right places. She was wearing one of her numerous bikinis this one in baby blue the top barely concealing the silver dollar sized areolas on her C cup melon breasts. The bottom fabric was just a 2X4 inch piece of fabric held on by strings bulging out slightly over her plump pubic mound. She was laying face up but like most of her bikinis, I didn’t need to see the back part to know it was just a thin strip of material running between the globes of her firm teenage ass. A fake diamond stud glistened from her newly pierced belly button. I had agreed to that piercing and even paid for it since I didn’t think it looks trashy like the tattoos that most young women have and that I had forbidden Chelsey from getting under threat of throwing her out. She had also cajoled me into paying for several laser hair removal sessions for her at the spa.
“I’m going to swim some laps.” I said turning to go to my room to change. I didn’t leave so quickly because I wanted to change but because looking down on my voluptuous sexy daughter had my cock inflating and I didn’t want her to see that when I’m supposed to be angry at her. She had never dressed modestly but over the last two years Chelsey had been wearing increasingly revealing clothing around the house. Short shorts and tube tops. Tight jeans with blouses opened way too much. Old threadbare nightshirts with flowered panties barely covering her plump butt. One nightshirt was so transparent it was how I knew the size of her areolas. She frequently walked around the house or left her bedroom or bathroom door wide open wearing nothing but a bra & panties (usually thong). And of course the bathing suits and bikinis. She hated tan lines so while I was out someplace she would occasionally torture me with a text saying she was sunbathing “Au naturel” and to let her know if I was coming home so she could suit back up.
As I said I’ve always had a thing for daddy-daughter videos and stories, but it’s all just harmless fantasy right? At least it is until you have a scantily clad, nubile young nymph living under the same roof with you. I knew it was dangerous, wrong, taboo.. But it just made me want my daughter even more. Many times in the last couple years Chelsey had seen me get hard or caught me looking at her in a non fatherly way. She had even made playful comments like “It looks like you’re happy to see me” and “Yeah, I guess you like this bikini”. I would just play it off as a natural biological reaction and tell her to wear more clothes which she never did. She knew she was teasing me but like many other things in her life I think my daughter saw it as an innocent game. She also seemed to like to taunt men in public with her sexuality and I had to warn her about the bad shit that can come from that.
She wasn’t just a tease. Chelsey had a few boyfriends the last couple years and I was pretty sure she had sex with all of them. I knew I wasn’t going to stop her plus, given how young me and her mother had been, it would have been pretty hypocritical of me to chastise her. I did remind her to take her birth control pills though. Her senior year boyfriend had moved to Georgia to live with his uncle and go to college there so as far as I know she isn’t currently with anyone. I wonder if after she retires to her room at night whether she takes care of her sexual needs herself. The thought of Chelsey on her bed frantically fingering or using a dedicated or improvised toy would make my heart skip a beat and when I would get up at night to use the bathroom we shared I’d linger near her door for a moment hoping to hear something. Sometimes she leaves her door open and I stop and watch her sleep and occasionally the covers would be partially or fully off her and I would be rewarded with a view of her scantily clad beautiful sleeping body. Chelsey is such a deep sleeper that I had to buy her a super loud alarm clock and still have to sometimes walk across the hall to shake her so I never worry about her waking up and catching me staring at her.
Yeah, I know. I’m a sick fuck. What’s worse is that soon after Chelsey moved in the main focus of my daily jerk off sessions gradually went from random porn fantasies to my own daughter. I tried a little not to think about her but when you have a hot teen prancing around in front of you half naked every day, you’d have to be gay or dead not to want her even if she’s your own flesh and blood. I thought about getting on a forum and asking other fathers if they are or have been in this situation with their female offspring, but even anonymously I didn’t want that out there. To make things worse, three months ago, banker dudes wife ended things with me. She was divorcing her husband and marrying one of his younger colleagues. Since then all I’ve had is my hand and my deviant thoughts about Chelsey. Maybe I can live like this. As long as Chelsey doesn’t know about my deep lusting for her what can it hurt? As long as things don’t go further..
But like the summer thunderstorms that break open on the Midwest plains, I knew something tumultuous and life altering was coming upon the two of us.