Truly a Daddy's Girl (Whtbitch4u2own & Intimate)

It was a sick game her parents were playing, at least to Phoebe. She had no idea what they were into and for her, this would be absurd. She’d rather not know anything about their practices as she knows right then that it wouldn’t be her cup of tea, not that she would want her father to play this game with her. She didn’t know what to do as he wouldn’t budge.

It was then, she called him out with some passion, asking him to come back up, inviting him as she used her hands to caress him. It was so odd but she was glad that it was producing results. He was calming down and saw him come back up but she couldn’t stop him from kissing her. She felt his lips and then felt his wet cheeks, wondering if he was actually crying. She didn’t mean to upset him and since he was in a fragile state, hurting him was the last thing she wanted.

He wasn’t asleep but he wasn’t fully aware and awake either. He was stuck into believing that the person in his bed was his wife, her mother and she couldn’t even slap him into senses. He was drunk and it wouldn’t work. “Shhh….why are you crying? I am right here.” She said as she wiped his face, “I am right here. With you.” One of her hands moved to this back as she caressed him there and another caressing his face, pulling him into her to rest his head on her shoulders, in laying position.

Harry felt her hands in his hair and on his face, she pulled him into her shoulder and he nuzzled her neck, his one hand still absent-mindedly stroking her thigh. "I want you Mon, I want you so badly," he mumbled.

They had played so many games, but they'd kept everything hidden from Phoebe. They'd wanted her to grow up without any of the usual pressures, but he wasn't sure they'd done the right thing. Perhaps she was too innocent, too naive. Boys could be very manipulative and peer pressure could be a terrible force. Phoebe. His little girl. Where was she? He should go and find her and protect her like a Daddy should. But this was warm and comforting. The combination of gentle movments, alcohol and emotional exhaustion sent him into a distrubed and dark sleep.

Phoebe was in danger, but he couldn't reach her, every time he came close, she was behind another wall or another door. Impossible. His head hurt.

She was trying to console him, to calm him down so he wouldn't pulls off any stunt he was just about it a minute earlier. She was very glad that she was able to get through to him as if she was his something important, other than his daughter. He listened to her, only in this state.

Finding his hot breath teasing her neck, she turned her head to the other side but with him on top of her and his crotch pushing right into hers as he had lifted her dress up and was resting between her legs, she couldn't move a single inch. It was hard and she figured that he would soon roll over considering he was drifting back to sleep.

But, no. Instead, her continued to fall asleep with him on top of her and his hands continued to hold her into him tightly. She couldn't escape by the time her eyes were wide awake as she laid there in hopes but eventually, she also fell asleep. She had a tiring day and before she knew, she fell asleep like a baby in his arms, finding the comfort that she needed from him.

Harry became aware of the pounding in his head. His stomach was a complaining void. He needed to pee. His eyes were sticky and heavy. He could smell the stale whiskey. What dumb ass. The alcohol dulled his pain temporarily, but made it ten times worse the next day when he was plagued with despair and guilt. The meaninglessness of life. Perhaps he should just end it all, but there was no easy way. He felt sick. He knew it would pass, it always did. It was warm and bright in the room. He could sense the sun, feel the light spilling over him. There were faint noises of an awakening neighbourhood.

He realised he was holding something. No, lying on something, or across it. Something soft. He moved his hand and realised it was a someone. He searched through his memory. Had he gone to a bar, met someone? His mind was blank, as if someone had dropped a thick gauze across it. He moved his hand. The form beneath him felt slender with clear definition. Young? Surely he'd remember picking up someone young. He opened one eye.

The soft curve of a breast was visible under the flimsy fabric of a dress. He started to become aroused. Then he titlted his head. The room span, then slowly coalesced into a fixed shape. A curve of jaw, soft lips, a fine nose and ..... It was Phoebe. It was Phoebe? It was Phoebe! What.... Why.... Had they.... Had he.... She was clothed. Wasn't she? He tilted his head down and saw his daughters fine smooth legs, but the dress ended at the top of her thighs. Could he move without waking her? He began to lever himself up.

The position they were in wasn't a suffocating or a disturbing one. Instead. they were almost spooning, him partially on top of her to partially restrict any movement. Though, the comfort and warmth was presence and that allowed her to sleep with ease. She wouldn't stir until she felt him move a bit.

She probably hadn't awaken through out the night,or else she would have mad sure to leave his bed and the bedroom to sneak into her room early morning. It was comfortable and when he actually would move, she'd stir more in her sleep.

She wasn't fully awake just yet and if he were to easily escape from the bed and her clinging to one of his arms, she wouldn't wake up, at least not yet. If he'd only make bit noise or shake the whole bed, then she'd find herself embarrassed since her dress had ridden up and it would be awful of a conversation later. She did lift her hand up to rest on her eyes to block the lights but didn't move much after that.

whtbitch4u2own said:

The position they were in wasn't a suffocating or a disturbing one. Instead. they were almost spooning, him partially on top of her to partially restrict any movement. Though, the comfort and warmth was presence and that allowed her to sleep with ease. She wouldn't stir until she felt him move a bit.

She probably hadn't awaken through out the night,or else she would have mad sure to leave his bed and the bedroom to sneak into her room early morning. It was comfortable and when he actually would move, she'd stir more in her sleep.

She wasn't fully awake just yet and if he were to easily escape from the bed and her clinging to one of his arms, she wouldn't wake up, at least not yet. If he'd only make bit noise or shake the whole bed, then she'd find herself embarrassed since her dress had ridden up and it would be awful of a conversation later. She did lift her hand up to rest on her eyes to block the lights but didn't move much after that.

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Harry slowly eased himself to the edge of the bed. He looked down at himself. What a mess. What was he doing. He felt sick and his heart was pounding. His head hurt, his eyes were sticky and there was a black cloud in his mind. Monica was gone. Life was empty. But he had to change something or he would simply spral out of control.

He slowly stood up, feeling a little light-headed, he padded to the bathroom. Stripped out of his shorts and t shirt he stepped into the shower. He leaned forward until his forehead rested against the cold tile and let the water just cascade over him. He was tired.

He'd slept next to Phoebe. But he was certain he hadn't done anything. Had he wanted to? He searched his soul. He had to admitt that his daughter was attractive, she had some of the finest qualities of Monica. But he'd never thought about her as a man thinking of a woman. His cock twitched and he shook his head - hating where this was going.

When her father slipped out of the bed, trying so hard not to wake her up, it almost worked to some extent. Though, it was soon after that, she heard the thud of the door being closed shut and she lift up her head, half asleep to see who was knocking on her door.

Though, when she looked up, she found out she wasn’t in her room and her concern grew exponentially. It took her a few seconds to recall how she ended up here. Last thing she remembered was how he had lifted her dress up and how he had listened to her when she played his wife. It was odd but she liked it when he listened to her.

As much as it was convenient for her to play the wife and get him to behave, she felt guilty for even liking it a bit. She…a wife? His wife? She must be going insane. She did remember that nothing had happened between the two but the way he had cupped her sex and her breasts, she noticed them getting harder at the thought. She freaked out and quickly pushed away the sheets, jumping out of the bed and to run to her room before he returned.

It would be odd to run into him. The whole thing was odd. Once she was in her room, she took a breather and then went to her bathroom to take shower and start up her day. While in the shower, she wondered if she should actually talk to him about this….this, as in what? What he had done to her while he was half asleep and assumed her to be his wife. Maybe… maybe she could pass it as a joke that he thought she was Monica. She wasn’t sure but something must be done. Could she not want to confess to him because some part of her likes it? The thought scared her. Maybe he would come forth, depending on how much he remembered. She went about taking shower and getting ready in her shorts and black top, when done, she’d finally come out of her room to see what he was up to. Maybe she can make something for them to eat and so, she started making some omelet and scrambled eggs after preparing a pot of coffee for them two.

Harry, grabbed a towel and put it around his waist. He didn't have the energy to get dressed. he wasn't in the mood to eat, so grabbed a glass of tonic water and walked to his study taking gulps from the bottle. He sat in his leather chair, leaned back and closed his eyes.

He saw Phoebe, in her slight summer frock. Her delicate features, the floaty material, the long smooth legs. The cute smile, the lovely nature, the small but firm breasts. What the fuck was he doing. His eyes snapped open. He took a long draft and cried.

She was gorgeous. he'd never thought about it, never acknowledged it. but she was. She inspired the same feelings in him that monica had. If he were in his twenties and saw Phoebe he knew he'd have fallen instantly in love. How could he possibly have such feelings, much less ever admit it to Phoebe. He needed to get away. Not be near her. He couldn't trust himself.

Harry decided to go to their cabin in the woods. He'd levae Phoebe a note and just skulk off during the day. A few days on his own might give him some perspective.

The whole time in the shower, she wondered what she would say to her father, what kind of conversation they might have since it was much needed. She woke up some time back, finding her dress way up high so it was obvious that her father, who was awake before her, must have seen her like that.

That alone should jog some memory if there was any locked away inside his mind as he was in drunken state. That was a fifty fifty chance that he may remember something. And of course, there were chances that he may not remember anything. That's why she was debating if she should bring up the matter as it could better the situation or worsen it.

The whole thing played over and over in her head as she went into the kitchen and started preparing something for them to eat. She waited for him to come because she didn't have it in her to go look for him. Even if she did, she wouldn't know what to say....hell, she'd barely be able to look him in his eyes. It was just weird. She didn't know what he was thinking and how she could help him. One thing for sure, after last night, she did want to help him. She saw how he listened to her in his drunken state, thinking it's Monica and not his daughter Phoebe. Can she take Monica's role in real life, for him? Even if that would make him better of a person, just like how he was before he was broken like this? She wondered as she sat on the breakfast table, waiting and when he didn't show up, she started taking small bites off of her omelets and coffee.

Harry heard Phoebe moving about in the kitchen and he felt trapped. How could he possibly face her. As far as he was aware they hadn't actually done anything but..... his mind was too black and full of confused thoughts. He was pretty certain he'd tried something, or at least said something. What was wrong with him?

He looked around, there were some dirty clothes he'd thrown in the corner, he quickly slipped them on, some old jogging pants and a sweatshirt. His trainers were still by his chair where he'd kicked them off. No socks, but he'd have to put up with that for now. He grabbed his car keys and wallet. Then he found a pen and some paper.

Phoebe, I'm sorry I've been acting like such an ass lately. Please forgive me. I'm struggling to deal with what's happened. I know it's no excuse. I need some time away to think and grieve and clear my head. I'm going to the cabin by the lake. I'll be fine, there's money in the usual place if you need anything. I love you dearly
Dad x

He took the note and opened the window. Sneaking out of his own house felt weird. Wanting to have sex with his own daughter weirder. He ducked under the kitchen window, slid the note into the postbox and hobbled to his car. He jumped in, gunned the engine and set off for their summer cabin. maybe there he'd be able to think straight.

Phoebe went about eating her breakfast really slow so her father can join her. Bringing up this awkward conversation sounded so weird in the back of her mind already. So, she couldn’t really imagine how it would be if he was here. Some part of her wished that the conversation never takes place but then it would continue to haunt her the whole time, for god known how long.

When he didn’t turn up, she decided to get up and put her dishes away into the sink since she was done. She didn’t know why he hadn’t come down, unless he’d gone back to sleep or was doing something else. She didn’t want to bother him.

She went ahead and cleaned up the kitchen after her and then decided to do some laundry. Almost an hour passed by and yet he didn’t come down, she finally decided to go upstairs to the guest room to see if he was there. He wasn’t there but a note he left behind was there and she quickly read it.

She was shocked that he had taken an easy way out of this. Cowardly almost. Though, she knew what he was going through and it must be very hard for him. For a second, she hated him for just bailing on her like this since she was here for him and she expected him to do the same. It was the only way they would get through this.

She read the note over and over again, ‘struggling to deal with what’s happened’ he wrote and that stuck to her mind. She wondered if he meant what’s happened between them. Does that mean he remembers? Because that would be awful….she thought in the back of her head. Though, she couldn’t be fully certain about it. Unless of course, he tells her exactly what it means.

She figured it out how he had left the house and she was a bit let down. She wondered when he will return back. Thinking it was for only few hours and since it was only morning, she expected him to return by the evening. She went about her day, a little sad that he had just walked out…snuck out. She debated if she should go after him…but then again, he wouldn’t want that. Would he? She asked herself…

Harry drove to the lake cabin without thinking, listening to some middle of the road station on the radio playing hits from the 80s. For the first time in a long time he was able to let his mind just wander without it looping over the loss of his wife. The music was soothing, the drive relaxed him and the fine day actually started to lift his spirits. He was on autopilot and barely noticed the journey until he was turning onto the last track that ran for a couple of miles through the forest leading to the cabin. He actually had the memory of a smile on his lips. The vabin had always been something of a sanctuary for him and although he'd been there with Mon and Phoebe, he'd also spent time there with 'the guys' in the days when he had hung around with them, and time on his own, supposidly to fish, but really just as a chance to get away and recharge.

Internet access and phone reception were hazy at best and the TV, even with a dish attached high up to a nearby tree didn't get half the channels they got at home. It was time to read, or walk, or row on the lake, maybe fishing, maybe just drifting, lying on a blanket and staring up at the azure sky. It was a claming and relaxing place. A place that comforted him. He would be able to avoid the pressure of the house here. Maybe he should have done this all along.

Monica was gone. She wasn't coming back and no amount of crying and wishing was going to change that. It was time to think about the future. To pull himself together an get a grip. He still had his job and he'd soon have plenty of time during the summer vaccation to maybe go on a road trip somewhere and have some fun. Fun? The concept was almost alien but he knew he'd feel better once he let himself move on.

Phoebe was another matter. He loved his daughter, of course he did. As any dad would. But he had to confess he also found her attractive. She was beautiful in her own right, not just because of the small glimpses of Monica. She had turned into a beautiful young lady and if they weren't related, even at his age, he knew he'd try to flirt with her and hope that she flirted back. He thought about what it would be like to be naked with her and the arousal confirmed that she pulled his strings. There was something delicious about the idea of a taboo relationship. But it wouldn't be fair on her. She deserved to find a guy and settle down and do all the things that a young woman should. Didn't she?

Harry was confused. It was wrong to think about her. But it was just inside his head. And she would no doubt be horrified if she knew what he was thinking. He didn't want to lose her. So now he had to play it cool. He stocked the kitchen, threw his bag in the bedroom and went outside to clear his head.

Phoebe didn’t know what to do now that he hadn’t returned all day long. She tried to call his cell phone but to no avail, she wasn’t able to reach him. The cabin wasn’t near. It was at least little over an hour away, if not more. She also knew that there were nothing around the cabin and that alone had her worried.

She was worried sick wondering what he would eat and about everything else. Given he usually was drunk by this time of the day, she wondered what if he goes out and crashes somewhere in the woods. The forest was full of animals from what she recalled since she’d gone with them to the place one too many times.

Nearly around 6, she debated if she should go after him and she was almost going to as well. Though, she realized that he might not appreciate her going after him since he did want some alone time. Who knows, he might come back by the dinner time. And nearly an hour later, she couldn’t wait so she decided to eat dinner by herself. She placed his share on the table for him to come and eat later. If he did come back that evening. Once she was done eating, she settled on the couch to watch some TV as she was trying to distract herself with it. Nearly 8 and then 9, yet there was no sign of him. Trying to call him again a few times as she even sent text messages and he not replying back just had her even more worried now.

Harry spent the day wandering in the woods, taking trails he wasn't familiar with, knowing he only need follow the slope down to the lake to make his way back to the cabin. The day was warm and bright and the light dappled between the trees. He listened to the sounds of the birds and the insects and as he walked he began to feel better. It felt as if he'd turned a corner, as if some unseen weight had been lifted. He stopped, took a swig of water, poured some over his head and looked up at the canopy 20 metres above. The pale azure sky was flecked with wisps of barely moving cloud and it was almost as if time were holding it's beath. As the day wore on the shadows began to lengthen, and while it was still warm he could feel the chill of the starry night begin to creep into the valley.

Harry headed back and when he finally reached the cabin he felt calm and peaceful. The natural air had detoxified him. Monica was gone. He knew that. He accepted it. She'd have hated the mess he'd got himself into. She also appreciated that he had a high sex drive and a need to deal with the darkness that they had both enjoyed. He needed to find another outlet.

Where, he had no idea. Or how for that matter. And what would he say to Phoebe? Phoebe. Briefly he'd forgotten about her but thoughts of her flooded back into his head. He took out a photo he'd got in his wallet from the previous summer. There she was in her short, light summer dress. And now he saw her with new eyes. She'd be perfect, totally his type and with skin as soft and young as when he first met Monica. Then he shook his head. Sick fuck. She'd never go for a guy as old as him - and as for her dad. It was ridiculous. But maybe he could find someone like her. He wondered idlly if she had any friends who might be interested. But how could he possibly talk to his daughter about that.

he sat in the cabin, enjoying the peace and some freshly brewed coffee, watching the darkness fall like a velvet cover. He sat in the dark. But this time instead of grief and anger, he felt peace and contentment.

Phoebe sat around for a long while, watching TV in the living room and the worry was killing her. She had even poured a glass from her dad’s bourbon and drank it all to calm her nerves. Of course, that didn’t help her at all. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to talk to him about what’s happened, it was more so that she cared about him and wanted to be there for him. He didn’t have to go through this alone.

Finally, it hit her and she couldn’t keep on waiting for him to come back. As time passed, she was worried that he might not return home that night and thinking that he might be drunk somewhere only made her worry even more. She stood up from her seat and made her way to her room to grab a coat to put on top of her black tanktop. She already had blue jeans on and with that, she grabbed her car keys and purse. She left her house to go to the cabin. She couldn’t help but think that he might need her help.


She wanted to be there for him and so, she drove down to where their cabin was. It was quite a drive but she didn’t care. The whole way there, she tried to reach him over the phone just in case if he’s only his way back while she’s going there. It would save her a trip. Finally, she lost her cell reception as well and she knew she was in that area.

She spotted the cabin from distance but she couldn’t tell if the lights were on until she came to park her car in the front of it. She even saw her father’s car and she was certain that he was here…hopefully inside the cabin and not outside, passed out. She walked over to the front of the cabin and peeked inside to see if she could see him, but couldn’t. Moving to stand in front of the door, she finally knocked a few times and waited for him to open the door. She grew with worry, thinking what he would say or what she would say to him.

Harry had let his mind wander and for the first time in many months he dwelt only on happy thoughts. A smile played across his face as his whole body relaxed. It was so peaceful in the cabin and he luxuriated in the lack of any noise, no cars, no people, not even animal sounds in the twilight. The only noise was the quiet, low hum of the refridgerator. It was calming and he drifted into a meditative state. As such when the two light beams swept across the windows and settled on the back wall he only slowly raised himself back to full consciousness. A car? There was no through road, but he guessed amybe someone had come out to visit one of the other cabins and made a wrong turn.

Then the engine cut out and the lights switched off. He heard a car dar slam shut and footsteps on the hard ground outside. He was just rising from the chair when the knock sounded. He had expected a hard pound, but instead there was just a soft rap. He grabbed the handle and opened the door and was met by the worried face of his daughter. A flood of emotion swept over him. "Phoebe!" He threw his arms around her. "Oh baby, I'm so sorry." He let her go and stood back, indicating for her to come in. "I had to get away. I know I should have spoken to you, but I just needed to be alone."

He smiled, a big open smile. "Everything's going to be okay." He hoped she believed him. "I'm so glad you're here." And he meant it, when he realised it was her his heart was lifted. How could anyone feel anything different when looking into such a beautiful face. He couldn't tell her how he really felt, but then, he'd be able to be close to her. For now, that felt like a win.