Cute girl in white tank top having her shaved pussy played with.

video

Homecoming Girl

The luggage Emily dragged behind her as she came through arrivals looked big enough to not only hold enough clothes for a family of four but the family as well. I watched her, taking the opportunity before she saw me, the love I felt for my daughter welling up as it did every time she visited. Not so often these days, and as her Mom pointed out I had no rights anyway. Except Emily wanted to come. Emily always wanted to come. It was a tradition of sorts ever since Rachel and I broke up. Except broke up didn’t even come half way to describing what we went through. What I went through. It seemed to barely affect Rachel.

Emily was six when the separation came and burst our family apart. I didn’t see her for at least three years as the bitter divorce proceedings dragged on, all the while Rachel living with the young stud that was the primary cause of the breakup. Except Rachel didn’t see it that way. It was all my fault. Everything. Whatever everything was. And then the year she turned ten Emily came out to the beach house I’d moved into, insisting she had to, simply had to spend time with Daddy. Sometimes I wondered if I’d moved east because it was about as far away as I could get from Rachel without leaving the continental United States.

Now here Emily was again, fresh out of High School with a long summer vacation ahead and nothing to do until she went to college in Atlanta. My daughter was short, barely five feet, and I suspect that was an exaggeration. Blonde curls that the last time I saw her fell to her chin but which she’d cut hard since so her ears showed. Blue-gray eyes that always seemed to know everything about whatever their gaze fell on. High cheekbones, straight nose, and a mouth with lips that were made for kissing even if we’d not done that for a long time now, not since puberty hit and she decided kissing her Dad was yuck. I was fine with that because kissing this girl, who was rapidly developing into a true beauty, raised uneasy feelings in me. Feelings I didn’t welcome.

And now, all of a sudden, here she was. The full package. And it was some package.

She looked up, her face flushed with the effort of dragging the case, and saw me. She broke into a wide grin, abandoned the case and broke into a run. I had no choice but to grab her as she leaped at me. She flung her arms around me and hugged me tight enough to make it hard to breathe. Tiny she might be, but strong too. She kissed my neck and cheeks and only then did she pull back to stare into my eyes.

“Hey, Pop,” she said.

“Hey, pumpkin,” I said back, and she pulled a face.

“Not no more,” she said, and she was right. She hadn’t been my pumpkin for a few long years now. Puberty, growing up, the angst of teenage years all blunted the relationship between us. Now, for the first time in an age, we had the possibility of eight weeks ahead of us and it was fixing to be a great summer.

“You can put me down now,” she said with a grin, and I realised she was sitting on my clasped hands and I dropped her faster than a hot plate. “And you can carry that bitch for me.” She nodded at the case and I knew this summer was going to be different. I would be ours. A bonding we both knew was overdue, except neither of us quite anticipated the kind of bonding it would turn out to be, not then. Come Fall I would sometimes sit and think, out on the veranda with a good bourbon whisky, whether if I knew just what was going to happen would I have put her straight back on the plane or not? But I knew the answer. What happened had an inevitability about it. A rightness even if it was wrong.

I grabbed the case, started off and came to a sudden halt.

“Damn, but you got to be strong, girl,” I said, and Emily laughed and flexed her arm so a tiny muscle popped.

“You still got that stupid giant SUV?” she asked, and I nodded.

“Think we can get this mother in the back?”

“There’s two of us,” she said. “And don’t forget, I got muscles.”

*

Between us we manhandled her suitcase up the stoop into the house. From there it got easier and I wheeled it along the wood-boarded hallway to the room she always used. Except the last time had been five years before and I’d seen her only twice since, both times fleeting when I found myself in Los Angeles and her mother allowed us to catch up with her supervising. But Emmy hadn’t forgotten.

At last the suitcase went flat and she knelt to unbuckle the security straps and turn the combination on her TSA locks. She tossed the lid back like a magician performing a trick.

“How long you planning on staying, Em?” I asked. There were a lot of flimsy looking underwear on top, together with what looked like five different bikinis, none with enough material to make even a single swimsuit. I pressed my lips together, not wanting to say anything, trying not to act like a Dad.

“How long can I stay?” she asked, looking up at me, her face perfect in the afternoon sunlight falling through the window.

“Long as you want, baby.”

She grinned. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” She looked around, looked in her suitcase, looked back at me. “You want to go for a walk along the beach when I’ve unpacked?”

“Sure. We can go up to Harvey’s and eat fish for supper.”

“Harvey’s?” she said. “Hasn’t that place blown down yet?”

“Close, but not quite. Is it a plan?”

“Damn right it’s a plan. Go make coffee, Daddy, while I get changed. My clothes stink of airplane.”

I did as I was told.

Emmy almost gave me a heart attack when she appeared a half hour later. I’d put the coffee on slow, knowing it would take her a while to transfer the contents of the suitcase to the closet drawers. She stood in the doorway and leaned on the side. Lean legs crossed at the ankle. Flat belly with a line down the middle where she had been working out some, I guessed. And breasts. I tried to remember ever noticing Emmy’s breasts before and, other than knowing she’d got some, couldn’t. It was hard not to notice now. The string bikini barely contained them. They weren’t big like her mother’s, but that hardly mattered because from what I could see — which was a lot — they were perfect. The bikini pants were no better, barely there at all, and I swallowed and turned away.

“Cream and sugar, same as always?” I said, uncomfortable at my reaction. She looked nothing like her mother but there had been the same raw rush of arousal as I stared at her, and it scared me. I didn’t think I could manage with her wandering the house dressed the way she was. I might have to have parental words with the girl after all. Damn it.

As I poured I sensed rather than heard her walk across the kitchen and the next I knew her arms had snaked around my waist and her near nakedness was pressed against my back. God damn but I started to come hard, a deep sense of shame and guilt accompanying my arousal.

“Are you writing at the moment, Daddy?” she said.

“Some. A couple of ideas is all, while I wait for the Fall tour.”

“I been doing some things.” She released me and came around, took the mug of coffee and walked on to the porch. She leaned on the rail, allowing me to study her from behind, where the view was just as fine as the front had been. Then I shook my head and sipped my coffee, too hot but I needed a distraction.

“You’ve been writing?” I said, walking out and taking one of the rockers.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” She turned, grinning, came and took the rocker next to mine and put her feet on the rail. “It’s genetics, ain’t it? You write, I write.”

“Can I see some?” I said.

“Not yet. And not what I’ve written so far.”

“I could give you some pointers.”

“Not this stuff you can’t,” she said, and sipped her coffee, snub nose wrinkling at the simple pleasure of it.

“Are you sure?”

She looked at me, smiling. “Oh, yeah, I’m sure.”

“What, you writing porn of something?” I said, joking.

“Not porn, Daddy. Erotica.” She looked at me, at the expression on my face, then laughed real hard. “It’s all the rage these days. Sells like hot cakes.”

“You, uh, published anything?”

“Not yet. Tried on a couple of websites to see how it goes.”

“And?”

She shrugged, almost spilling her coffee. “OK, I guess.”

I waited a while before saying, “I’m all growed up, Em. A bit of tit and ass isn’t going to shock me. I could still give you some pointers.”

“Let me think on it, Daddy,” she said, and it was the last time either of us mentioned the matter until three days later when I found her laptop open and unlocked with a Word document on screen and sat at the desk and read what she’d written. But that’s getting ahead of our story. Besides, by then it hardly mattered much. But it was a catalyst, speeding up what was going to happen anyway.

We turned south from the house and walked along the surf line, Emmy wandering in and out of the water. When I’d mentioned she might want to bring something to wear over the bikini she pulled a face but went and found a linen dress which I was expected to carry until it was needed.

Now and again she stopped and went to one knee to examine a shell or starfish.

Later, as we walked on, she went deeper and swam, coming back with her hair wet and her bikini almost transparent so I had to look away. But she came running up and flung herself against me, getting me wet too, laughing like a wild thing.

“You can look at me, Daddy, it’s all right. I don’t like to think of you getting embarrassed. Besides, you used to give me baths, remember?”

“That was a long time ago, Em.” I tried to extricate myself but every time I thought I was making progress she slipped near again until eventually I gave up and let her cling against me. It wasn’t too hard to get used to. Not too hard at all. And I guess it was around then I began to think those things a father should never think about his daughter.

“But I was nekkid then!” She laughed and hugged my waist, one leg curled around mine.

“And you didn’t have…” I trailed off.

“Didn’t have what, Daddy?” Her tone so innocent I had to laugh. “You mean these?” She put her hands under her breasts and lifted them, nipples almost popping free. “Oops,” she said, and settled their small weight back inside the ridiculously tiny slip of material. “They’re only titties. You’ve seen titties before, haven’t you?”

“You didn’t used to have those,” I said.

“Shoot, I’ve had ’em for ages now. And really, I don’t mind if you look. You’re my Daddy after all. We’re family and I love you.”

Yes, I thought. We’re family. That was the trouble.

I started along the beach, leaving Emmy standing there, then she gave a rebel yell and came running past me and on up the sand ahead, her breasts bouncing, her ass swaying and shimmying like wild creatures trapped in a sack. A very small sack.

Dinner at Harvey’s was wonderful, as always. Emmy had slipped the linen dress over her head to cover the non-existent bikini and old man Harvey himself came out to chat, not believing she was the same little Emmy that used to play around our feet when her mother and I used to eat there not quite two decades before. After a while his son, young Harvey who was now almost fifty, came out the kitchen and joined us. I caught him slipping glances at Emmy and felt a jealousy rise within me, trying to tell myself is was no more than a father’s protection of his daughter.

It was near dark when we left, walking back hand in hand through the low surf. When full dark came the ocean shimmered florescent around our feet and Emmy started to sing a song I didn’t recognise and then I did. It was Wooden Ships. I used to love that song but hadn’t heard it in years.

I was tired when we reached home. I poured a bourbon for myself and Emmy came and took the glass from me and sniffed it.

“You want one?” I asked.

She wrinkled her nose. “But I’ll have a glass of wine. White, if you got it, but I’m easy.”

“And you’re eighteen,” I said.

She made a face, screwing her eyes up tight and went “Bwah-hah! Daddy doesn’t love me no more.”

“Don’t tell your mother I’ve been plying you with booze, then.”

Her face changed in an instant and she leaned against me as I looked in the refrigerator, sure there was a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc I’d bought for a launch party and never used. Her shoulder pressed against mine, the sea scent of her winding tendrils around my face, her woman scent curling out to enchant me. I tugged the bottle out and opened it, poured her a small glass and, when she made another face I poured a bit more.

We took our drinks out to the porch and watched a cruise ship drift by far out. Stars tried to outdo each other in their splendor, and when we’d finished our drinks I went inside and filled them again. Some time later I glanced over to discover Emmy fast asleep, her wine glass hanging almost upside down. I took it, reached down and lifted her, lighter than I expected. I carried her through to her room and laid her on the bed. I stood watching her for a while, tendrils of guilt stalking through me. Then I closed her door and went to my own bed, but didn’t sleep until the small hours, and when I did dreams kept snapping me awake, hovering on the cusp of fear and arousal.

*

I woke to something bouncing beside me and came awake bleary to discover Emmy lying there. She must have woken in the night and changed because now she had on a pair of tiny blue panties and a red tank top with, as far as I could tell, nothing beneath it but belly and breasts. She lay on her front, chin on her hands, and stared at me.

“What?” I said.

“I can look at my Daddy if want, can’t I? I made coffee. You want some?”

“Does a bear—” I stopped. “Is the Pope a Catholic?”

Emmy grinned and lifted up, causing the tank top to present a tantalising glimpse into a smooth expanse of cleavage, then she was gone, ass tweaking as she went through the door, and I was sure she was putting on a show for me. Why didn’t occur to me right then, but it would before too long.

She returned with two mugs of coffee and pushed me across so she could cuddle beside me, nudging until I lifted an arm and allowed her under. I laid my hand awkwardly along the pillow because the natural place for it was along the side of her breast and no way was I going to touch her there. But the mere idea had an effect, arousal and guilt my familiar companions now, and I raised my knees to hide the fact my cock had thickened.

“What do today?” Emmy said, wriggled closer. She drank her coffee fast and put it on the nightstand, then came back and lay on her side, one arm over my waist, one leg over mine. “If you got nothing planned, can we do the same as yesterday? I feel all…” She shimmied herself, her body soft and slack, “… all fuzzy, like I need to do nothing at all but be with my Daddy. Unless you got something you need to do?”

“Me? Not a thing.”

“Good.” She pecked me on the cheek and lay even closer than before, her small breasts pressing one either side of my flank. After a while she started to snore softly and I couldn’t move for fear of waking her. Didn’t want to move. Her softness lay against me, the smell of her wrapping around me so I inhaled her with every breath, and eventually my erection softened and went slack along my leg and I slept too.

The next time I woke Emmy was gone.

I heard the shower running and smiled into the sun filled room, wondering how long I could manage to keep my thoughts in line. I knew I could play the heavy Dad and send her back to L.A. but I wanted her here in the house with me. I loved Emmy more than anything in the world. I had missed out on so much. Her growing years, her curiosity and a bunch of questions that could only ever be asked for the first time once and were now lost in a past I hadn’t been part of.

The shower stopped and Emmy peered around the door, a towel clutched against her wet body.

“Ah, good, you woke up. I’m going swimming.”

“You only just showered.”

A grin. “So I’m already wet. Not a problem. You coming, old man?”

“Wanna race?” I said.

“If you wanna lose.” She turned away, revealing the wonder of her naked wet back to me and I lifted a hand to cover my eyes, hearing her laughter and knowing she knew exactly what she had done.
I let her win the first time, and the second, then pulled the stops out. When she stroked up to me she was trying to pout but grinning too much for it to work properly. We splashed each other a while, swam some more, then walked up the hot sand to the house and lay on the porch, me in the shade, Emmy in the sun. She lay on her front in a different bikini. Different in color, about the same in the way it both hid and revealed in equal measure.

After a while she reached back and tugged on the bikini top tie and pulled it free, dropped the slip of material to the floor.

“You got a girlfriend, Daddy?” she asked, her voice soft with lethargy and sun.

“Nope.”

“But you’ve have had girlfriends, haven’t you, after you and Mom split up?”

“Sure.”

“Anyone famous?”

I smiled. “I could tell you, but then the secret service would come and take you away and do terrible things to you.”

“Big secret service men?” she said.

“Huge secret service men. And a woman with a moustache.”

“Hmm. Keep your secrets, then. When was the last one?”

“Famous or not famous?”

“Either. The last one. When was it, Daddy?”

I thought back to Hannah. “A couple of years,” I said.

“A couple of years?” Emmy sat up and turned to me before remembering she was topless. I stared at her breasts until she raised her hands to cover them. “You haven’t been with anyone in two years?”

All I could think of was the color of her nipples, pale, pale pink with hardly any change in tone from the skin surrounding them. And the shape of her breasts, the nipples pointing upward, the undersides not heavy enough to touch her belly. They looked a little bigger than in my imagination but not by much. Emmy was eighteen, only now coming into full womanhood, and she was magnificent.

“Do you have one night stands when you’re on tour?” she said. She leaned over and picked up her bikini top, the removal of one hand partially revealing her left breast, then she turned and put the top on.

“Is this an appropriate conversation for us to be having?” I said.

“I’m worried about your well-being, Daddy. You’re, what… how old are you?”

I smiled. “You know how old I am.”

“So a forty-four year old man in the prime of life, a good-looking forty-four year old man who is not in possession of a pot belly and bears no visible scars, must be in need of, you know, some relief now and again. There are women out there, I hear, who provide such services for a fee. Do you use them, Daddy?”

No, not an appropriate conversation at all, which is why I said, “Needs can be taken care of without all the mess of relationships.”

“So you do use them,” Emmy said, leaning forward, which didn’t help. Didn’t help at all.

“That’s not what I meant.”

She stared at me a while, then snickered. I’d only ever seen a snicker on a cartoon until then, but she did it well. She lifted a hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh, Daddy. Two years?”

I said nothing.

Emmy got up and walked across to me, stopped when she was as close as she could get without touching, but the heat of her body crossed the gap and I wanted nothing more than to reach out. But I did no such thing. Of course I didn’t.

I stared at the fine down of almost invisible hair that kissed her arms and belly.

Looked up to see her watching me in turn, knowing what I had been doing.

She caught the corner of her lip between her teeth.

“Maybe you should read some of my stories. They might, you know, help with the relief.”

“Help?”

She nodded and made a movement with her fist and I laughed and after a moment she laughed too and collapsed on top of me, all skin and heat and the smell of the sea in her hair. I buried my face against the top of her head and breathed her in while her skin touched mine and her body moved as she breathed. I laid my hand in the narrow of her back and Emmy moved her head so if I wanted I could kiss her. Not how we’d ever kissed before, father to daughter, but man to woman, with lips parted and tongues seeking. And I almost did.

Almost.

Then I thought of the implications and put my hands around Emmy’s waist and pushed her away. She went without the expected resistance and got to her feet. She glanced down at me, then turned and went inside. I heard her in the kitchen, then the door of her room closed, and then I heard nothing.

I shifted on the lounger. Laid my hand across the ridge in my bermuda shorts, knowing Emmy must have seen it too. I wanted to strip them off and grasp my cock and rub myself until I spurted. But I knew Emmy might return and catch me. I thought of going to my room and snicking the lock, but then what would she think when she found it that way? She would know what I was doing, why I had locked it. What would she think of her Daddy then, I wondered?

I stood and waked down and into the ocean and kept going until my feet no longer touched sand and I swam hard, trying to think of nothing at all, trying not to think of my beautiful daughter and what I feared I wanted to do to her. I was sick. Evil and twisted. I ought to just keep swimming, further and further out until the ocean took my guilt to itself and swallowed me down

I didn’t, of course.

When I stopped and trod water to look back I was maybe a mile out and the water was cool under me and I thought of cruising sharks. Now that would serve me right.

When I walked onto the porch Emmy was on the sun-lounger again in just bikini pants like nothing had ever happened. She turned her head to look at me as I dripped water onto the planks.

“Better?” she said.

I nodded.

“Good. Me too.” She lowered her head and after a while her breathing slowed.

I sat in my lounger and watched her sleep, the way her back rose and fell, the way the small weight of her breasts pushed out on each exhalation, drew back when she inhaled. I stared at the bikini pants caressing her ass. I stared at her feet, plump and short, even those becoming objects for my perverted desire.
After a while I got up and went into my office and closed the door.

I opened a new document and started to type, words spilling from my fingers onto the screen, words I needed to erase from my soul in the only way I knew how.

*

We drove into Heartsville and ate junk food in the mall. I asked Emmy what movie she wanted to see, going along with her choice and secretly enjoying the show. After a while in the dark her hand came out and took mine and I let it. She drew my hand across until it lay in her lap and I allowed that too, disgusted with myself but unable to stop. I was starting to think I wasn’t the only one wanted something more than we should have, father and daughter, but the idea of that scared me almost more than my own perverted thoughts.

We? I thought.

We?

Really?

I pulled my hand free and reached for some popcorn, but when I raised it to my mouth all I could smell was Emmy from where my hand had lain in her lap.

We shopped and Emmy tried on clothes, coming out for approval each time, and when she was done I paid. She slipped her arm through mine as we walked through the Mall, stopping to study windows then moving on. It felt good. It all felt so damn good it scared me.

So good we decided to have dinner before going home, which is where things started to go wrong.

I picked the restaurant, Emmy picked the food. It was fun to see her scan the menu then order for both of us.

We were on dessert before Hannah walked in on the arm of a man who had to be her husband. At least I hoped it was her husband and she wasn’t cheating again. She didn’t see me at first, and then she did. I saw her eyes widen and she said something to the man before starting across. He veered away to a table behind the Maitre-d but Hannah came straight as a die toward us.

“Steve!” As if she was pleased to see me. She waited, and eventually I stood and kissed both cheeks. She smelled of perfume and powder and sex. Hannah had always smelled of sex. It was one of the things that drew me to her and one of the things that drove me away when I found that, for her, one man was never enough. It was fun for a while, a wild ride, like hanging on to a bucking bronco with no straps. In fact, almost literally like that.

When the kisses were done she put a hand on my chest and looked toward Emmy.

“Hannah,” I said, “this is my daughter, Emily. She’s staying with me over summer.”

“Hi, Emily.” A slim hand, touched and released. “You are such a lucky girl to have a Dad as good as yours.” She smiled my way, a smile full of meaning, lust and memory.

“Your husband?” I asked, nodding to where the man was studying the wine list far too hard.

“Sure, if you want,” she said, and I knew she hadn’t changed.

“I think he’s waiting,” I said.

“He doesn’t mind. Besides, I’m worth waiting for. As you know.” The pressure of her hand increased then trailed away, her fingers running across my belly. “It was good to see you again, Steve. Give me a call sometime.”

“Sure,” I said, but it would never happen. Not that Emmy knew that, not then.

“Who?” she asked after the waiter had brought coffee. She added cream and sugar to hers, stirred.

“Just an old friend.”

“A hot old friend,” Emmy said.

“Hm.”

“She is, Daddy. Real hot. I saw how she looked at you. Is she the old girlfriend? The one from two years back?”

I nodded.

“Hmm. I can see why you have to jack off a lot now.”

Then she laughed at my expression.

“What,” she said, “I know all about jacking off. Well, not the male version maybe but the female version. It’s OK, Daddy, everybody does it.” She reached out and touched my hand. “Even me.”

I saw Hannah watching us and drew my hand away. “You want to drive on the way back?” I asked.

“Really?”

“Sure.”

We hadn’t brought the SUV. Instead I’d taken the tiny Miata out of the garage and popped the hood down. It wasn’t fast until you came to a corner and then it just stuck like it was nailed to the highway.

“Can I go fast?”

“Sure,” I said. “Fast as you damn well like.”

“So what are we doing still sitting here?”

I caught the waiter’s eye for the check.

Emmy’s short blonde curls danced in the wind and the warm night air kissed everywhere it touched. I tried not to be jealous. I tried not to think at all, because every time I did those thoughts careered off toward disaster.

She sat low in the bucket seat, legs straight, skirt riding up to show most of her thighs. When I glanced a little higher her nipples showed as sharp nubs through the linen shirt. She was smiling, hands and feet coordinated as she threw the little car through curves as fast as she could but still not fast enough to lose grip.

“I want one,” she said, raising her voice.

“You’ll have to wait for your next birthday,” I said, laughing when she pouted.

“What did I get for this one?” she said.

“It was so long ago you can’t remember?” I knew what I’d gotten her, same as I had every year, a mindless parent with too much money and too little thought.

“I wanted something personal.”

“Sorry,” I said, having no idea what that something personal might be but willing to do better next time. Maybe even a Miata.

She pulled a face. “Geoff bought me underwear.” Geoff being the new husband. Banker, groomed, not my favorite guy.

“Underwear?”

“Yeah. Like slinky, silky underwear. As if I might model it for him. Not appropriate. Not appropriate at all.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Will you, Daddy? Will you fight him for my honor?” She grinned.

“Of course. Beside, he’s a sleazy fuckwad buying you underwear. What the hell was he thinking about?”

“Oh, I think we both know what he was thinking about,” said Emmy. “So punch him good and hard. Punch him in the balls, that’ll cool his ardor.”

“Does your Mom know?”

Emmy shook her head. “Uh-uh. And I threw them out, the slinkies. They were cheap and tacky, the kind of thing a fuckwad would buy thinking it might get him into a girl’s panties.”

“I will kill him,” I said.

“Swoon, swoon,” Emmy said, then grinned and gunned the engine as we tore down Beach Road toward the house.

Emmy stopped the car and leaned across and before I knew it she had one arm around my neck and we were kissing like this was a first date and we both wanted to know if anything else was going to happen. It was my cue to cup her breast and I almost did as I let the kiss go on too long before breaking it and pushing Emmy away. She stared at me, her lips parted, color in her face.

“What, you don’t like kissing me, Daddy?”

“What kind of kiss was that?” I said.

“I bet that woman Hannah used to kiss you even better than that.”

“You’re not Hannah,” I said. “You’re my daughter.”

Emmy made a face. “One more? Just one, Daddy?”

I looked at her face, her neck, her ears and hair and legs and arms and knew the war was lost, but there were battles I could still fight.

“One,” I said, and she practically climbed onto my lap. Damn, she did climb onto my lap, straddling my waist and pressing her ass down against my erection. Then she grabbed my face and kissed me hard. Her tongue came out but I kept my lips tight so it had no access and eventually Emmy gave up.

“You’re no fun, Daddy,” she said. She climbed off me and got out the car without opening the door.

“I think that’s the point, isn’t it?” I said to her retreating back, and she gave me the finger.

By the time I got in she was in her room. I hesitated outside, knuckle raised to knock but afraid of what might happen if I did.

“G’night, baby,” I called through the door.

“Goodnight, Daddy. Sleep well.”

As if.

“And try not to jack off too much.” A coarse laugh followed me as I paced away.

As I undressed and stared down at my raging cock I thought of how Emmy’s voice had been shaky when she called out to me and I think I knew what she had been doing. The same thing I wanted to do. The same thing I almost started doing until I stopped myself, knowing I would be thinking of Emmy when I shot my load and I wasn’t sure I wanted that.

Just how wrong can a grown man be?

*

She was late with coffee the following morning but I lay in bed waiting, thinking, wondering how to avoid the inevitable fallout of what was about to engulf us. I wasn’t what Emmy needed. She needed a nice kid her own age she could take her frustration out on. I tried to think if there was anyone I knew, one of the boys of summer who came down each year. Maybe, I thought, just maybe. In fact, anyone who wasn’t her father, for God’s sake!

When she came in she looked like she’d lain awake about as long as I had. She was dressed in the usual panties and tank top and put our coffee down on the nightstand and slid under the sheet beside me, came across and hugged me tight like we hadn’t seen each other in a month.

“I’m sorry about last night, Daddy. I was in a funny mood. And I didn’t like your girlfriend. She was too sexy.”

“Too sexy?” I said.

Emmy giggled. “Yes, way too sexy. I didn’t want to think about what you two might have gotten up to.”

“Well if it helps, the same things me and your Mom got up to that brought you into this world.”

“Did you love Mom?” she asked, snuggling tighter, her fingers stroking the hair on my chest and I knew I should have worn a top not just my shorts.

“Once,” I said. “Very much indeed.”

“She’s a bad person,” Emmy said.

“She’s your mother.”

“Which means I know her, and she’s bad. She’s selfish and self-centered and obsessed with money and image.”

“And?” I said.

She kissed my shoulder and I shifted to hide the tent my cock was making in the sheet.

“I wish I could have lived with you instead of her. We’d have had fun, wouldn’t we, Daddy?”

“The court said otherwise,” I said. “Besides, you know me, how could I look after you when I have to go away all the time?”

“You would’ve taken me with you.”

“You’re here now,” I said, and without thinking I slid my arm around her. Emmy rolled onto me, her thigh between my legs, her belly against my erection, and she shifted ever so slightly from side to side to let me know she was aware of what was there.

“I love you so much, Daddy.”

“I know, baby girl.”

“I mean…”

I put a finger against her lips. “Don’t say it,” I said.

“Oh, Daddy, I have to.” She moved again, shifted position so my cock wedged between her thighs. “This can’t be wrong, can it?”

“We can’t do this, baby.”

“I want to. And I can tell you want to too.”

“That’s just a thing,” I said. “A reaction I can’t control.”

“Then don’t try to control it, not for me. Kiss me again, Daddy, like you did last night. More than you did last night. Kiss my anywhere you want.” She used a hand to lift her tank top, revealing a breast. “Kiss me here. I want you to kiss me here so much.”

“I can’t, Em, you know I can’t.” But my hands were cupping the cheeks of her perfect ass and she was moving against me harder and I knew if she kept doing it everything would come crashing down, our summer, our friendship, our world.

I pushed her away too hard and she rolled out of bed and landed on the floor.

“Ow, Daddy!” She sat up, rubbing her ass.

“Go to your room, Em,” I said. “If you have to take care of yourself you know what to do.”

“Are you going to?” she said. She knelt at the side of the bed and stared at the tent my cock made in my shorts. “I can help if you want.” Her hand came across and I caught her wrist to stop it.

“Go,” I said. “Go now before we both do something we’ll regret the rest of our lives.”

“Not me,” she said, but she got up and stamped out. Her bedroom door slammed, then I heard her call out, “And I won’t try to keep quiet this time.”

And she didn’t. Her groans and cries filtered through the wall. The creak of her bed. The momentum to her act of self-love growing, fading, growing again, each time like the incoming tide, unstoppable. And I kicked out of my shorts and gripped my cock, almost coming there and then, but instead I held back, waiting, listening to Emmy work herself higher and higher until a final ululating scream rattled the house.

I grunted as seed jetted from me, harder and higher than I could remember since I was a teen and Mary Peters jacked me off for the first time in the back of her Dad’s sedan.

I wiped my belly and chest with my shorts and tossed them to the floor, then lay as my body cooled in the breeze from the window and listened, but Emmy was making no noises now. I closed my eyes, saw her naked on her bed, one leg half raised, a hand against her own breast, the fingers pulling at a pale nipple. I almost went through to her but knew how close we had come to oblivion. I was the adult. I had to behave like one. But it was hard. So, so hard.

I must have dozed again. When I woke the sun had moved and fell across my feet, warming them. I listened to the house, the surf. There was a new sound, one I recognised but not when it wasn’t me making it.

In her room Emmy’s fingers flew across a keyboard.

I lay and listened, wondering what she was writing. It went on for a while. After an hour I got up and showered, making sure to lock the door between us. The sound of typing was louder in the bathroom. She was fast, and didn’t seem to make many mistakes, the words flowing from brain to finger to screen. I knew the feeling when it was like that. The best feeling there was. Almost the best feeling.

By the time I dried off Emmy had stopped. I found her on the porch dressed in denim cut offs that cradled the checks of her ass and a familiar tank top with nothing underneath but her. She had coffee and pastry, crumbs scattered across her top.

“Can we take the boat out?” she said.

“If you want.”

“And catch dinner?”

“Snapper,” I said, and she nodded.

I let Emmy take us away from the dock, standing close behind in case she made a mistake, but she didn’t. She stood square on those plump little feet, body swaying in time to the swell of the waves.

“Best spot is about here,” I said, tapping the GPS screen, and she nodded.

I hung around a while longer then went to sit up front. Water splashed from the bow to mist against me, and I put on a cap and dark glasses and watched the ocean roll toward me.

“Here?” Emmy called and I stood and looked over the side. I could see rippled sand and as I watched a flicker where fish scattered from the boat’s shadow.

“Here’s perfect,” I said.

I baited two rods and handed one to Emmy, showed her how to cast and retrieve the line.

Time passed in companionable silence and I started to think things were going to be fine. Shows how much I know.

She was first to hook a fish. A snapper. Big enough to keep and I took it off to despatch so she wouldn’t see.

“We only need the one,” she said, slipping her rod into the holder on the side of the transom. “It’s a shame to catch them just to throw them back.”

“You want to go in?”

“Not yet. Let’s kick back out here for a while. It’s quiet.”

She was right. The land was a distant haze. Another cruise ship passed a couple of miles east. As the ocean settled, growing used to the presence of the boat, fish leaped close by. A school of dolphin came near as if checking us out. They tumbled and twisted under the water for a time then moved on when we didn’t want to play.

“You mind if I take my top off?” Emmy said.

I glanced across. She lay one side of the prow and I was on the other, a raised pod between us offering minimal headroom to the cabin below.

“You got anything underneath?” I asked.

“Sure I do. Boobies.”

I smiled. “They’re your boobies,” I said. “Burn ’em if you want, just don’t come complaining to me later.”

Emmy tugged the tank top over her head and stood for a while as if deliberately posing for me. I considered it impolite not to look, seeing as she’d taken all that trouble.

“If I didn’t go to college we could do this every day,” she said, turning toward me.

I shaded my eyes. Her nipples were stiff little buds staring up at the cloudless sky.

“That’s not going to happen,” I said. “Besides, I have to work, and travel, and a whole bunch of other stuff. My life isn’t staring out a window waiting for my muse to turn up.”

“Can I be your muse, Daddy?” She pushed her hip out, hand on her waist.

“You already are, baby.”

Emmy smiled. “How about I come home weekends when you’re here? Atlanta’s only a couple hours drive.”

“More like four,” I said.

“Four’s not so bad. Can I, Daddy, come home for the weekends?”

“You’ll have your own life to live, baby. There’ll be boys you’ll fall in love with.” I grinned. “Maybe even girls.”

She pulled a face. “What if I was a lesbian, Daddy? Would you still love me?”

“Of course.”

“Except I’m not. I might be curious, but I don’t think I am.” She sighed and sat to lean against the transom, the skin of her belly folding twice in a delicious way. “Sexuality is different from when you were my age. More fluid. We’re not hung up over whether we fuck girls or boys or whatever we want.”

“Good,” I said.

“Really?”

“Sure. Am I meant to be shocked? What were you writing this morning, Em?”

“Just something,” she said. She slid down and rolled onto her front, tugged at her denim cut offs as if they were tight. “Daddy?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Would it totally freak you if I took these off as well?”

“And you’re naked underneath them too, I suppose?”

“Duh.”

“I have seen you in the bath, remember,” I said.

“You have. So is that a yes?”

“It’s your ass gonna get burned,” I said, original as ever.

Emmy lifted her hips and wriggled out of the cut offs and I watched the entire operation with a sense of total wonder that something so glorious was part of my life.

“And can we go skinny dipping later?”

“We?”

“Sure. We. You seen what I got now it’s my turn.”

“You want to stare at your Dad’s skinny old-man ass?”

“When you put it so nicely, sure. And the rest.” She grinned.

“I’ll think about it. We need to go in before long. Got a big snapper to barbecue.”

“Yay. Barbecue,” she said.

More time drifted by like the seconds had grown lazy with the heat of the day and could barely drag their feet by us.

Emmy stood and stretched and I watched the play of muscle beneath her skin, saw how sunlight glowed along the gap between her thighs, and then she dove over the side to cut the water clean. She stayed down, kicking hard, before surfacing forty metres from the boat.

“You coming in, old man?”

I pulled my t-shirt off and hesitated only a moment before tugging my bermudas down. I wasn’t as hard as I had been, but I wasn’t totally flaccid either and I saw Emmy look, saw her eyes widen a little before I followed her into the blood heat water.

I dove down and swam hard, came up under her and grabbed her waist and lifted her high before tossing her back into the waves. She squealed, arms and legs flailing. Then she came back at me, going under and dragging my ankles so I was pulled under. I twisted, grabbed her, slippery and wet against me and where I wasn’t hard a moment before suddenly now I was and Emmy felt my cock against her belly.

When we surfaced she laughed and splashed my face.

“Not bad for an old guy,” she said.

“No, I didn’t think so either.” I stroked away from her, not needing the closeness, less worried than I was because I knew something was going to happen and already the idea had nestled in my mind like both a promise and a threat.

When I turned Emmy was climbing onto the boat. She shaded her eyes to find me and waved. I noticed there was no trace of hair at the junction of her thighs and wondered if that was normal for her. I remembered asking her mother to shave herself there for me and her refusal, like I’d asked if she took it in the ass or something.

I pulled slow back to the boat and climbed aboard.

“You don’t have to get dressed if you don’t want, Daddy,” Emmy said.

“Oh, I think I do.” I bent and picked up my shorts but let them hang from my hand for a while as Emmy’s eyes tracked my body.

“You know, for a, what, almost eighty year old you’re not in too bad shape,” she said.

I threw my shorts at her and she caught them, laughing, then tossed them over the side into the water.

“Not clever,” I said.

“You think?”

“Really, not clever,” and I dove over the railing to retrieve them. By the time I climbed back on board they were safely covering me.

I left Emmy to commune with the sun and started the motor and turned us back toward shore and whatever the rest of the day might bring, knowing some corner had been turned, content with what was to come now.

I cleaned the snapper and buried it in white charcoal coals while we opened a bottle of wine and sat around in chairs on the beach. Emmy had finally put some clothes on, which was lucky as a few people passed by, waving as they made their way toward or from Harvey’s.

We ate the fish with our fingers and Emmy wiped hers on my face and I rolled her to the ground and sat astride her, both of us suddenly serious. I stared down into eyes that promised me the world and more and knew I was lost, but didn’t know what to do about it.

I stood and walked away, letting the coals settle and the gulls take the rest of the snapper.

I was on the sofa when Emmy came in a half hour later.

She came across and sat on me, a leg to either side, and put her hands on my shoulders.

“Whatever you want, Daddy. You know you can have whatever you want.”

I held her waist and looked at her like a man looks at a woman, knowing she could see the hunger in my eyes.

“Soon,” I said.

“Really?”

“Not tonight, baby, but soon.”

“Promise?”

“It’s a big thing.”

Emmy grinned and rocked against me. “It sure is. And I’m only a little girl.”

I slapped her ass and she pretended it hurt, then leaned close and kissed me. This time my lips refused to obey my mind and her tongue came sliding through, slippy and hungry and wet. I grasped her ass and pulled her down against me, hard in an instant, and she breathed into me, the breath whistling through her nose. I kissed her neck, her earlobes, and then my hand was beneath her top and a breast had miraculous fallen under my touch.

“Oh, yes, Daddy,” she whispered, kissing me on my nose, my eyes, my earlobes.

I pulled on her nipple, feeling it stiffen to my touch, feeling the small weight and potency of the breast I held, and then reason came calling and I pushed her away.

“We can’t,” I said.

She came back. “We can, Daddy. Of course we can.”

“What I want to do to you is illegal.”

“I want it too, just as much as you.”

“Yes. No.” I rubbed a hand across my face. “We just can’t, baby, we can’t.”

“Fuck!” She stood and ran from the room, her bedroom door slamming a moment later.

I expected come morning for her to be gone, but I knew I’d done the right thing, the adult thing, the thing a father is meant to do for his daughter however much he might not want to.

I expected her to come back at any moment, knowing if she did my resistance would crumble like the sand under our feet, but she didn’t, and slowly my resolve grew.

I got up and started toward my own room when a green light caught my attention. My MacBook was still turned on. I detoured and reached for the switch, then hesitated. Emmy had been typing on it only that morning.

I sat and woke the screensaver.

A Word document was still open and I scrolled to the top and started to read.

After a while I printed the pages, ten of them, and took them to my room.

The writing wasn’t bad, wasn’t great, but it wasn’t the writing I cared about right then.

I almost got up and went through to her then lay back down. Then I got up and undressed, slid under the single sheet that was all I needed in summer. I must have read those ten pages twice, maybe more, before Emmy’s voice called me back to the present.

“What are you doing, Daddy?”

I had been somewhere else, with someone else. Or not. With Emmy in my mind.

“Did you write this?”

She looked at the pages. “Dunno, what is it?”

I started to read. “He touched the deep cleft between the cheeks of her ass then used both hands to draw them apart to reveal the sweet bud nestling deep within, calling to him, and he knew she wanted this as much as he did.”

“Oh, that, sure. Yeah, I wrote that.”

“And this? ‘She held his cock loosely in her fingers while the copious pre-cum drooled from the head onto her face, wetting her until she had no choice but to lick the sweet nectar from her lips.”

“That too. Is it any good?”

“It needs work,” I said. “You’ve got two deeps in that first sentence.”

“But you can help me fix it?”

I looked at her over the page. Tank top and panties, but I knew what wonder lay beneath them.

“Is this what you like to write, to read?” I said.

“Some, sure.”

“Some, or all.”

“I write what turns me on,” she said. “I haven’t done hardly anything. Well, nothing, to be honest.” She caught the corner of her lip in her teeth. “But I’d like to. P’raps you can help me with that too, Daddy?”

She walked across and sat on the edge of the bed.

I flicked through the pages, found the passage I was looking for and passed it to Emmy.

“That?” I asked.

She read, nodded. “Sure. That sounds interesting.”

I touched the side of her breast and she closed her eyes.

“Daddy?”

“What is it, baby.”

“I’m a little bit scared all of a sudden.”

I withdrew my hand.

“We don’t need to do anything,” I said.

“I want to. Kind of. But… Is it OK if we just, you know, make ourselves come before we do anything with each other?”

“Sure it is, baby.”

“Can I lie down beside you?”

I nodded.

She stood and tugged her panties off, pulled the tank top over her head.

I made room so she could lie beside me, her flank against mine.

“I think you’d better take your shorts off too, Daddy, or you might cut off the flow of blood from somewhere important.”

“Do it for me,” I said.

Emmy hesitated, then knelt. She slipped her fingers beneath the elastic of my shorts. I lifted my hips to help and she drew them down. My cock jumped free and slapped against my belly. Emmy emitted a little gasp.

“I never dreamed you’d be so big,” she said.

“Sorry.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s OK, I like it you’re big. It’s just… you might be too big.”

“Too big for what?”

I saw her eyes widen as a bead of pre-cum filled the slit in the tip of my cock, grow and then slide down the side to trail onto my belly. Her hand reached out, hesitated.

“You can touch me if you want, baby,” I said.

“Not yet.” She seemed to make a decision and lay down at my side again. Her hand ran across her breast, along her belly, finally nestled between her thighs.

“How long have you been shaving yourself?” I said.

“Since I left L.A.”

“Why?”

“For you, of course.”

“How did you know I liked it?”

“I didn’t, but it made sense, and I wanted to do it anyway. I like it too. It feels smooth and sensitive and I thought of how your tongue would feel against me there and couldn’t stop myself.” She grunted as her fingers began to work inside herself. “I’m glad you like it.”

I stroked my cock, teasing another bead of pre-cum free. I caught it on my fingertip and raised my hand, held it near to Emmy’s lips and waited.

She stared at the clear fluid, her pupils blown wide, then she lifted her head and kissed my fingertip and when it was done the liquid was gone. Emmy licked her lips.

I rolled on my side and looked at her. “You like that?”

She nodded.

I stroked her breasts, first one then the other. I ran a thumb across the nipples, first one then the other.

“Use your fingers, baby. Make yourself come for me.”

“You too,” she said, her neck flushed.

“After,” I said. “I want to watch as you get close, watch you as you tip across the divide. And then I’ll do the same.”

“I want to do it for you, Daddy,” Emmy said, her breathing faster now.

“Then you can.”

I drew her nipple between my teeth and nipped it and Emmy made a sound and clasped a hand behind my head.

“Fuck yourself,” I said. “Fuck yourself for Daddy.”

“Oh. I wanted this to last for ages but I know it’s not going to. Can I come now?”

I kissed her, breathed words into her mouth. “Come for me, baby, come now, come hard.”

She bucked beneath me, crying out, flailing like a current ran through her. She writhed, clinging to me, releasing me, and I held her close as she shook inside my hands and only after she had crested and slid down the other side did I kiss her face and breasts and belly. Then I slid between her thighs and kissed her sex, strong with the scent of her climax, sweet with the nectar she had released.

“You can fuck me if you want,” she said, her voice soft with sleep. “If you want to you can fuck me anywhere just like in my story.”

“I know,” I said, kissing my way back to her lips. “I read it, remember?”

“I’m too sleepy to help you come tonight, Daddy, but go ahead and do yourself, I don’t mind.”

She rolled onto her side and I took her small body inside my arms and pulled her against me. My cock lay along the cleft of her ass and she wriggled against me but I knew there was no intent there, not yet. When her breathing turned soft I closed my eyes, but sleep took a long time to find me that night.

*

“Let it drip on me, Daddy,” Emmy said. “Just like in my story.”

I sat astride her, my cock hovering above her pretty face.

She had woken me with her mouth and I had almost spilled before I was fully awake. Then she had dragged me on top of her and made clear what she wanted.

“This is for you, Daddy,” she said. She pecked a kiss on the underside of my cock and wrapped her fingers around me, teasing out a thick bead of pre-cum which hung before dripping onto her lips. Emmy smiled and licked it inside and said, “Mm-mm.”

“You really like it?”

She pulled my face down to hers and kissed me, opening her mouth.

“See?” she said. “It tastes sweet. It is sweet. And it’s so hot when you do it. I want more, Daddy, lots more.”

She stroked me faster.

“You’ll make me come if you do that,” I said.

“Really?” Her hand speeded up. “When will you come, Daddy?”

“Pretty soon.”

“Will you come all over my face?”

“Is that what you want?”

She nodded and ducked to kiss my balls, then slid even further back and her tongue flickered against my perineum, infinitely sensitive.

“Ah, careful baby,” I said.

“I want to make you come, Daddy,” she said. “I want you to come all over me. Everywhere. Soon. Everywhere.”

She slid from beneath me and laid my cock along her cheek. My balls rested beneath her chin, the head of my cock touched her hairline, and she ran her hand along the surface of me as I slid against her face, streaking her with pre-cum until her cheek glistened.

I reached back and found her cleft with my fingers but she grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away.

“No cheating. This is your time, Daddy. Come on me, fuck my face.”

“Oh baby.” I knew I was close, even closer when I grabbed the headboard and lay my cock across her lips and stroked.

“Next time I want you to come in my mouth.”

I might have said something, but if I did I was beyond making sense. The release built inside me, painful, urgent and my body stiffened. I tried to hold back, wanting the sensation to last longer, and for a moment I managed but then the need was too great and I cried out as a rope of creamy cum jetted across Emmy’s beautiful face. She grinned, grasping my cock, directing the stream so I splashed her cheeks and chin, then she put the tip to her closed lips and I came against them hard.

When I was done she kissed the tip again and I slid down her body, my hands stroking her skin.

“You’re a mess,” I said.

Emmy grinned. “You made it,” she said.

I reached for the sheet to clean her up but she shook her head. “Not yet, Daddy. I like knowing it’s all yours.” She ran her fingers through the fluid, touched them to her lips.

“Do you like the taste?” I said.

She laughed and before I could do anything pushed her finger into my mouth.

“Try it and see.”

When we’d stopped tussling she was astride me, my soft cock trapped against her ass. She leaned over and laid her breasts on my chest and kissed my cheek.

“I want to kiss you, Daddy,” she said, some need in her voice I had not heard before, even after everything we had done. “I know I’m messy, but I want to kiss you so bad.”

I raised my head close to hers. “You already made me taste it, so I guess you can kiss me.”

And she did. I had done the same before with another woman, no-one she knew and it was long in the past, but she had liked it too, the taboo, the wickedness. And, I had to admit, so had I. And if kissing that other woman with cum on her lips had been taboo, kissing Emmy, my daughter, with cum splashed across her face was way beyond taboo.

*

The smell of coffee roused me and then Emmy was sliding under the covers beside me, rousing me even further. We had crossed a boundary and come out the other side where everything was new to both of us. I think she was a little shy because she pulled the sheets to cover her breasts and cupped her coffee close to her face, avoiding my eyes.

I sipped my coffee but it was too hot and I sat it on the dresser and turned to stare at Emmy. I couldn’t believe how beautiful she was. I could barely believe what we had done together the night before. And a pain started up in my chest because I was scared Emmy might regret it now.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I said.

Her eyes flickered toward mine, away again. She raised a shoulder, the movement releasing a breast and she left it displayed. Perfect. I wanted to touch her but resisted.

“What are you sorry for, Daddy?”

“You know what for.”

A trace of a smile and then it was gone.

“If you’re sorry then I’m sorry too. I did kind of throw myself at you.”

“I could’ve said no.”

“I didn’t want you to say no.” She leaned over and put her own mug on the dresser on her side.

I offered my arm and she came under it, her naked body against mine and I thought of all the other women who had lain naked against me and every one of them faded into insignificance.

I kissed the top of her head. “What I did was wrong, baby.”

“No,” she said. “And it was we did it, Daddy, not just you. I wanted it as much as you. More than you, I think.” Her hand stroked my belly and I grew immediately hard and she laughed as my cock tented the sheet.

“Not bad for an old man,” she said.

She reached for me and I pushed her hand away.

“We need to talk about this, Em,” I said. “It’s serious.”

She pouted. “I don’t want to talk, Daddy, I want to rub your cock and make you come. I’ve wanted to ever since I knew what sex was, and I’ve known that for a long time.” She pushed the sheet down, wanting to see my cock, and I tried to pull it back up but my resistance was draining away.

“Let me do this for you,” she said, resting her head on my chest. “Let me make you come.”

“It’s wrong, Em.”

“No,” she said. Her hand drifted down, waited. “You look so big, Daddy. Are you big?”

“What about the boys you’ve been with, Em? Am I big compared to them?”

“No boys,” she said. “I never wanted boys.” She stroked a fingertip along the side of my cock and I jerked and made a sound. Emmy said, “You’re not gonna come all fast and messy on me, are you?”

“I just might.”

“Is it because I’m touching you, Daddy? Because my hand is on your cock? Your baby girl is going to touch your cock?” Except she wasn’t. Not yet.

“What do you think?”

“I think it is.” She wrapped her slim hand around my cock, not moving it yet, but I groaned again, the sight close to tipping me over the edge. Her hand moved, fingers tracing the length of me, exploring my balls. “If you’re really no bigger than other boys then I think I might have trouble,” she said. “You can touch me too if you want, I don’t mind.” She leaned closer and giggled. “Oh my God, look at all this stuff coming out of your cock, Daddy.” She dipped a fingertip in the bead of pre-cum that had appeared and lifted it, the liquor stretching then breaking loose. “Does this happen to you all the time?”

“Uh-huh,” I said, watching as she rubbed the clear fluid between her fingers then sniffed it. She looked at me, her eyes wide, a grin on her face, then popped her finger into her mouth and sucked on it.

Her hand dropped to run across the head of my cock, smearing the copious pre-cum that was now almost streaming from me. She lifted it to her mouth again, her cheeks hollowing as she savored it. “Mm, I’m glad you got such a lot because I love the taste. It’s kinda sweet, isn’t it?”

Her hand went to my cock again and she tried to push her finger between my lips like she did the the night before when she touched me. We tussled, her laughing and naked half on top of me, her breasts against my chest, the nipples pale pink, long and hard. I pretended to fight her off but when I kissed her I could taste my pre-cum on her lips. God, but she was wild, just like her Mom was before it all went wrong. But the tussling had stiffened my resolve, as well as something else, and I rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom and locked the door.

“Hey, Daddy, do you need to pee? Can I come watch?”

Just like her mother, and I knew I was in deep, deep trouble.

“I’m taking a shower,” I said.

“Me help!” she yelled, knocking on the door. Then I heard her feet running along the hallway and moved fast to throw the lock on her bedroom side, just in time. I pictured her out there, naked, glowing, and I almost weakened.

I looked down at my cock jutting hard from the base of my belly and groaned. How the hell was I going to make it through the summer? But I knew the answer. I wasn’t. Either Emmy had to go or we were going to end up fucking each other every which way, and that was wrong. So, so wrong. But it was my head saying that while my heart said no, it would be perfect, it would be what I knew had to eventually happen. Emmy was her Mom but not her Mom. Emmy was sweet, not bitter. She was everything a man could ever want. Every man except me, her father.

She rapped on the door again. “Hey, Daddy, are you beating your meat in there? Can I come watch? I bet you’re gonna come real hard and messy. Mmm.”

“Go for a walk of something,” I said.

“Open up and let me see, Daddy. Besides, I got no clothes on. You want me to go walking along the beach naked? What kind of father are you?”

The kind that wants to fuck your brains out, I thought, but I wasn’t going to say that.

What I said was, “You got enough clothes to last until Armageddon in that case, Em. Put some on and go away.”

“Don’t you love me no more, Daddy?” Her voice was close, like she was in the room with me, and when I listened hard I could hear a slight sound. I padded to the door and put my hand against it. Felt a vibration.

She was doing herself right there, the other side of the wood. She was pushing her fingers into herself. I wondered if her eyes were open or closed. Wondered what she was thinking of, but knew the answer. The same thing that stalked my mind.

My hand circled my cock of its own volition and I began to stroke myself, moving in time to the vibrations I could feel.

“Is that you doing it, Daddy?” Her voice was tight, a shake far back in it. “Is that you jacking off? You know what I’m doing to myself, don’t you.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. I hadn’t meant to answer but it just came out, like something else was going to just come out if I didn’t stop what I was doing.

“How can this be wrong, Daddy,” Emmy said.

“Because it is. I’m, your father, Em.” And my hand broke free and I laid both palms flat against the door. Last night had been a mistake. A big mistake I was resolved we could never repeat.

“We should be doing this to each other. I want us to do this to each other.” Her voice was tighter and the vibration against the door faster.

“What are you doing, Em?” I said.

“I’m sitting on the floor, Daddy, with my back against the door, and I’ve got three fingers inside myself and I’m about thirty seconds from screaming out loud.”

“Are you a screamer, Em?” I said.

“I guess. A little. Is Mom a screamer?”

“I don’t want to talk about her. Not ever, Em, not this entire summer.”

“It’s only me and you, isn’t it, Daddy?”

“Yes, Em, it is. Me and you.”

“Touch yourself, Daddy. Put your hand around your cock and rub until it spurts. I want to see it, but maybe tomorrow you’ll let me. I’m gonna come now, Daddy. I’m gonna come harder than I ever have before.”

The door rattled on its hinges and I almost threw the lock to let her fall against me. Instead I listened as she gasped and squealed and shuddered against the door, her head rat-tat-tatting. And then I splashed across the pale wood, making a sound of my own, and on the other side of the door Emily said, “Oh, Daddy, yes…”

I pictured her beautiful face looking up at me, no door between us as I splashed my seed across her, and knew I was utterly lost.

*

It had taken no time at all. The smell of fresh coffee had my cock thickening even before Emmy came into the bedroom and kissed me on the mouth, a quick peck rich with the promise of more. Foolishly I thought we might have put this whole thing behind us when we managed to get through the previous day without incident.

She pushed me and I slid across the bed to allow her to sit.

I touched her leg, the skin there unbelievably smooth, unblemished, and for a moment I wondered what she saw in a forty-two year old man. Let alone a forty-two year old who was her father.

“We need to talk, Daddy,” she said. She lay at my side on her belly, staring into my eyes. Her beauty was so perfect, so pure, I ached with a mixture of need and guilt.

“What about, baby?”

Her expression was serious. “About this, of course. About you and me and what we want to do.”

I ran my thumb across her cheek, over her chin, recalling how my cum had streaked her perfect face, dripping from that chin.

“I guess we got to be adult about this, Em. It was fun, but I know how wrong it is. I’m sorry, baby, I’m your father. I should never had let this happen.”

“Oh, Daddy,” she came along me, pressed her lips against mine, but it was almost innocent. “I don’t mean that. I mean us, me and you, doing things together like we’ve been doing. I want to talk about how we can do this always. This and more.” She kissed me again, less innocent this time and I laid a hand on her barely panty-clad ass. “And I need to know something. Something important.”

“Right now?” I started pushing her panties down, stroking the impossibly perfect skin exposed.

“Yes, right now.” She slapped at my hand. “So stop playing with my ass or you’ll distract me.”

“I want to distract you.”

“Now who’s being the adult, Daddy?” She sat up, hands in her lap, but I noticed the peaks her nipples made through the pale blue tank top. She seemed to have an infinite supply. No wonder her suitcase had been so heavy, and I wondered had there been anything else in there other than bikinis, panties and tank tops, and doubted it. Not that I was complaining.

I sat up, keeping the sheet over my cock which had thickened in anticipation but was not yet hard. Emmy glanced down once, back up to my face.

“OK,” I said, and she smiled.

“College,” she said, confusing me.

“What about it?”

“You said I had to go to College and I said I didn’t want to.”

“Non-negotiable,” I said.

“You sound like Mom now.”

“Is that what she says?”

“She doesn’t love me. Not like you love me.” She couldn’t help herself. Her fingers traced across my chest, the thin brush of hair that grew there little more than a dusting.

“I hope not,” I said, and Emma frowned before the frown turned to a smile.

“Of course not,” she said. She lifted the rumpled bed sheet and stared at my cock, which responded to the attention by thickening more and she smiled again. “Do I make it do that?” she asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“You make me wet, too, Daddy.” She shifted on the bed. “I’m wet right now.”

“I can take care of that.”

“Soon. If I go to College can I come back here every weekend and all the vacations.”

“What about your Mom?” I said. I rubbed my thumb against her thigh and she parted them a little to show me just how wet she was. And yes, she was very wet indeed. I recalled how she had tasted and wanted to taste her again.

“She doesn’t care. She’s told me she’s glad I came here because now her and honey boy can do whatever they want. I doubt she even remembers she’s got a daughter anymore. You know she only fought for custody to get back at you. She never wanted me.”

“She’s your Mom,” I said, my thumb stopping its attentions as the tone of our conversation turned serious. “She loves you.”

“She fucking doesn’t.”

I wondered if I was supposed to be shocked.

“And as for him, he’s got hands like an octopus.”

“He’s got suckers on his hands?” I said, and Emmy slapped my belly, left her hand there.

“Might as well have. They don’t even try to be quiet, you know, when they’re fucking. Sometimes I think they try to make more noise than they should. Mom would—” Emmy stopped as I gripped her wrist, stopping her hand making its lazy way down my belly.

“I don’t need to know about that,” I said.

“You loved her once.”

“Maybe. She was hot, and it was exciting going out with a model. And she liked my fame until she realized it came with a lot of baggage. I was supposed to pour my attention on her, not the next book or the movie treatment, her.” I lifted Emmy’s hand and kissed the palm and she curled it against my face. “You’re not like her at all, are you?”

Emmy shook her head. “I’m like you, Daddy. Sometimes I think I am you.”

I laughed. “I’ve never had that idea,” I said.

“The night before last, when we were touching each other, when I let you make my face all wet and then when you came on me, it was like it was me coming on my face too, like I was inside you as well as myself. We’re not two separate people, we’re one. I think I know exactly what you like and you know exactly what I need.”

“No,” I said, “I don’t think I do.” I sighed and pushed her aside and got out of bed. “Stay there, I need to pee.”

I went to the bathroom, lifted the lid and let my stream splash into the bowl for what seemed like an hour. When I turned around Emmy was right behind me. I hadn’t heard her at all.

“My turn,” she said. “You can watch me too if you want.”

She stripped out of the panties and kicked them across the room, sat and leaned forward, an expression of concentration on her face. I didn’t hunker down and peer at her peeing but I heard her stream, strong and fast. When she was done she wiped and stood in front of me so her stiff little nipples touched my belly.

“I want to do something for you, Daddy, or to you.”

“What?”

“It’s a secret.” She grinned.

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

“Go back to bed, I’ll be right behind you.”

And she was.

I lay back, hands behind my head, pillows lifting me and watched as she padded back toward me in only the tank, top, her sweet pink pussy on display, and when I saw what she had in her hand I knew what she wanted to do.

She sat on one side of the bed and touched my belly, laid the razor there.

“Have you ever done this before?” she asked, head tilted as she examined my cock and balls.

“A few times,” I said.

Emmy looked up at my face. “With Mom?”

I smiled. “It was never something your Mom was into,” I said.

“I am.”

“I noticed. Why?

“Why not?”

“Did you do it for a boy?” I said.

“No. For a man.”

“Who?”

Emmy pulled a face. “Sometimes, Daddy, for someone who has been called a genius, you can be fucking stupid.”

“Ah,” I said.

“I thought, to begin with, I might shave your balls, if that’s all right with you?”

“Knock yourself out,” I said. My cock was filling again, snaking along my belly and I saw Emmy watching it fill.

“Does it turn you on, the thought of me shaving your balls?”

“A bit.”

“Me too. And after I want you to pretend to shave me even though I’ve got hardly nothing down there but I like the idea of you doing it to me. And then we’ll make each other come again.”

“You first,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because I think after I come I’ll be useless for at least an hour.”

“Oh Daddy, you underestimate me.”

She was probably right. I stared at the brightness in her eyes, the pink rising along her neck, and knew we would need to come back to the conversation that had been interrupted, but we had the entire summer for that. Right then the idea of her shaving my balls seemed exquisite.

Emmy tugged my legs apart and lifted my knees. She went down so her face was between my thighs and reached for the razor.

“I don’t think we’re going to need foam, but yell if I hurt you.” She lifted my cock vertical so it was out of the way and brushed her fingers through the patch of light hair above it. “You’re not real hairy like some men, are you.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Have I been meant to go around checking other men out?”

Emmy giggled. “I think before long I’m going to want to shave it all off, but today just your balls. Is it OK if I do the rest later? Tomorrow or the day after? We can do it in the shower, get you wet and soapy first.”

“You want to come shower with me now?”

“Duh, Daddy.”

She pulled my balls to one side, then the other, before she ran the fresh blade across one side. I watched as hair curled loose. Emmy blew it away, used the blade again. She lifted my skin and continued. I got harder, my erection setting up an ache through my lower belly and I wondered if I would be able to hold out until she had finished.

“Don’t forget you have to come first,” I said.

Another giggle. “We’ll see about that, Daddy. Lift your knees for me… no, higher than that, you’ve got hair back here behind your balls.” She drew the blade across my perineum and I jerked. “Are you sensitive there, like me?”

I nodded and Emmy caught the corner of her lip in her teeth. “I am so sensitive there it’s crazy,” she said. “I can make myself come just by using the shower head there and on my clit.” She looked up from her work for a moment. “That’s not too much information, is it, Daddy?”

“Not considering what you’re doing to me right now, no.” My voice was tight and I was desperately trying not to think of Emmy bringing herself off with the shower head. Later, I promised, I would watch her.

“You look so hot with no hair,” she said. She ducked her head and kissed my balls, used her tongue to wet them. “Now, roll over and stick your ass in the air so I can finish you off there.”

I thought about objecting but couldn’t see the point. Besides, Emmy’s delicate fingers, the rasp of the razor, were making me ache with a need I’d never experienced before.

“Spread your legs,” she ordered. “And get that ass higher.”

I felt her get closer and her hand pulled my cheeks apart, and then the scrape of the razor.

“You’re not so hairy here,” she said, “but it is so much nicer with it shaved.” She continued, her fingertips laying along my cleft, sliding slowly inward.

She stroked the razor and then her free hand came underneath and circled my cock.

“I think I need you to come like this,” she said.

“You need me to.”

“If you don’t want—”

“Why?” I said.

“Because it’s a bit wicked and you have a real nice ass, Daddy. I have a thing about asses, about my own ass, just so you know, and I was wondering if you did too, seeing as we’re the same person under the skin.” She laid the top of her finger against my sphincter, no pressure, just letting it sit there. And then it was gone, but only for a moment. When it returned she had wetted the tip in her mouth and ran the spit around my asshole.

“Oh, Daddy,” she said, her breath hot against me there. “This is sooo naughty.” She pressed her finger so it entered me the tiniest bit. Her other hand stroked my cock, slow and long, trying to delay the inevitable moment. “Do you like that, Daddy? Do you like Emmy’s finger in your ass?”

“Oh,” I said, “is that what it is.”

A laugh, then, “Or I could do this if you want.” The finger went to be replaced by something warm and wet and she licked across my opening and then pushed the tip of her tongue inside me and I jerked. Emmy pulled back. “I think you like that too, don’t you? I know I would. Will you do that for me after, Daddy, after I make you come? Will you put your tongue in my bum hole?”

I nodded into the pillow, unable to respond rationally, and she returned her tongue and pressed it deeper. I tried to hold back, the sensations so exquisite I didn’t want them to end, but it was impossible.

“Ah, Emmy!” I cried, bucking, and my cock spilled onto the creased sheet, spilled again and Emmy added another finger to the mix, pushing it as far inside as she could until I cried out again, collapsing onto the bed. My chest heaved like I’d swum a mile fast.

Emmy climbed on top of me, the tank top discarded, her perfect silk skin against mine. She kissed me ear, my neck and I turned my face so she could kiss my mouth.

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered.

“You better had after what you just did.”

*

It took me ten minutes to get hard again, but most of that was Emmy’s doing. She undulated against me and then I pushed her off, rolled her onto her front and lifted her ass high. The sight greeting me was beyond perfection. I pretended to use the razor on her but there was no need and I discarded it when the need to touch her grew too much to resist.

“You don’t have to do the tongue thing,” she said, “not if you don’t want. A finger will be fine.”

“Will it,” I said.

“Sure. Did Mom—”

I slapped her ass and she squealed. “Let’s not talk about the bitch,” I said, and Emmy giggled.

I tugged her around until she was lying half on her side, one leg splayed so the cleft of her ass lay open beneath me. I kissed the cheeks of her ass, ran my finger along the depth of it and over her perfect bud. Then I reached with my other hand and cupped her sex, my thumb pressing on her clitoris that lay bare to my touch. Then I put my face against her and extended my tongue.

I had done this only once before, with a woman in Madrid who had loved nothing more than to have her ass touched and fucked. I had always wanted to explore a woman this way but that long distant Spanish woman was the first and, until this moment, the only one. I tried to conjure her name but was unable to, foreign to my mind, lost in time.

I ran the tip of my tongue around Emmy’s asshole and she moaned. She was rocking slowly against my hand and I allowed the movement to guide me.

I stiffened my tongue so that each time she thrust backward the tip entered her.

“Oh, Daddy,” she sighed, “I knew it would be good, but this is… this is amazing… You can, you know, put your cock in me if you want.”

I said nothing, but the thought had been there, sparked by the memory of Spain and Isabella — yes, that had been her name, Isabella, big breasted and coffee skinned, not beautiful but striking — lying just as Emmy was half on her side pleading with me to fuck her ass. That time I had done as she wanted, half afraid, half mad with lust. She had been tight and needy and I’d slid deeper and deeper inside her until I could go not further and she cried out as she came, fast words in Spanish I couldn’t understand, only the raw need.

Now I pushed my tongue deeper into Emmy, the taste of her clean and fragrant. I lay my cock along her thigh, half curled around her to lift it as high as I could.

“Yes, Daddy, do it if you want to,” Emmy said, and I knew she meant it but something held me back, so I did as she had and added a finger to the mix, pressing it into her, feeling the tightness fighting back, imagining how that tightness would feel around my cock. I was close to coming again, barely believing how aroused I had grown so quickly.

Emmy grunted as my finger reached as far as it could and she came, shuddering and making sounds as incomprehensible as those made by Isabella, but she hadn’t finished and I could tell she hadn’t so I used tongue and finger to bring her to a second peak, added a second finger and she screamed the third time she came, slapping at me even as she did so.

“Stop it, Daddy, you’re going to kill me!”

I smiled and allowed the natural pressure to push my fingers clear, then lifted up and laid my cock against her ass and she sighed and went still. I didn’t press, there was no pressure, only a promise of what might be, one day.

Then Emmy sat up and came around behind me, wrapped one leg around my waist, her chin on my shoulder. Her hand reached beneath my arm and circled my cock and she started to rub me hard.

“Make it fast for me, Daddy. I like it when you come fast for me. Don’t hold back. I want to watch you spill.”

She writhed against my back, soft and silk, and I did as she demanded, letting arousal flood through me until almost at once I was ready again.

“Oh, Daddy, yes!” Emmy cried as I jetted across her foot. “Oh, Daddy, I love you so much.”

She released me and pushed me flat so she could suck my softening cock into her mouth. Then she lay her head against my belly and hugged me and I lay my hands across her back and wondered what would become of us, knowing I could no more stop what we were doing than I could stop breathing. I wanted her more than anything in the world. Would give up whatever I had to, my career, my reputation, everything, if she asked.

*

It was a day of long promise and anticipation. A point of no return had been crossed and we both knew more delight waited for us on the other side. We exchanged fleeting touches, feather-light kisses, and long moments of eye contact where I felt my cock thicken and knew Emmy could see it and didn’t care. I wanted her to know what she could do to me and how easily I had fallen under her spell.

I tried to work, made a few calls I had put off too long. I heard Emmy’s fingers on the clattery keyboard I had bought because it sounded like an old manual typewriter and knew she was weaving her stories again, and I wondered what this one would say. I almost didn’t want to know.

We ate a light dinner and around ten Emmy padded from the living room and a moment later I heard water running into the bath. A little while after the scent of bath salts reached me and I rose and followed her through to the big bathroom where as well as a shower cubicle a claw footed iron bathtub sat under the window so you could bathe and watch the ocean. I hoped there would be nobody walking past tonight.

Emmy was already naked, lying almost full length in the tub.

She smiled as I undressed, nodded when she caught sight of my cock which jutted from the base of my belly. And then, when I went to step into the water she grabbed it, stopping me. She leaned over and took me into her mouth and I cried out and grabbed her hair.

“No, baby, if you do that I’m going to come right off.”

She stared up at me. “So?”

“I want this to be for you,” I said.

“It will be.” She tried to reach my cock again but I had my fingers twisted in her hair. “I want you to spill in my mouth, Daddy.” Her face so innocent her words served only to make me harder. “Don’t you want to fuck my mouth, Daddy?”

I groaned again and released my grip and Emmy ducked her head and sucked me inside, drew me deeper than I thought possible.

“Oh baby, have you been practicing on someone?”

“Mm-mm-mmm,” she said.

I grasped the edge of the tub with one hand, clasped her small breast in the other and squeezed and she hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head faster.

“Ah fuck, baby, no,” I said, but I didn’t mean no, I meant yes, I had to release, but I wanted to offer some moment of warning. A warning Emmy ignored.

My body stiffened and all my focus centered on my cock and balls, the fire in my cock, the warmth of Emmy’s mouth, the need to spill what I was trying to hold back into her.

Emmy jerked when I shot the first load against her tongue but she held firm, taking the next without flinching as I emptied over and over into her. Her mouth moved as she swallowed, and then I was done, collapsing against the side of the bath, breathing hard.

“Don’t go having a heart attack on me, Daddy,” she said.

“All your fault if I do.”

She kissed the top of my head. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I hope you do.”

Emmy giggled.

I raised my head, touched a bead of cum that clung to the side of her mouth.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

“Books,” she said. “And, um, a couple of, you know, online movies? And that website where I put my stories.” She stared into my eyes. “I want you to kiss me, Daddy, but I understand if it will gross you out.”

I kissed her.

It didn’t gross me out.

There was some residue of what she must have tasted, what she must have swallowed, but no, it wasn’t gross.

“Why did you do that?” I said when the kiss was done. I stood and stepped into the bath, settled so our legs were tangled around each other.

“Because I wanted to,” she said. She stroked her own breasts, touched her pussy. “And now I want to come. Watch me, Daddy, watch your baby girl come.”

“Oh, Em,” I said.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and pushed three fingers into herself. Raised her knees and arched her back.

I knelt and leaned over her, running a hand along her sleek flank and she pushed me away.

“No, Daddy, just watch me. Watch me come for you.”

So I did.

It took some time, water splashing against the sides of the bath, Emmy’s body shaking as she pushed almost her entire fist between her thighs.

Sometime along the way my cock began to grow hard again. She made me feel eighteen and invulnerable. I saw her note my arousal and smile, but she was close to her own peak now and starting to turn inward. I watched, given permission to watch, her nipples tight nubs, her neck and cheeks turned pink. And then she came.

She came hard, crying out, shaking, water cascading over the sides to splash across the floor. I wanted to hold her and resisted the temptation.

Emmy’s body went taut, all her weight on her head and heels as she grunted, grunted again, then slid back into the hot water.

It was she who made the move. Knelt and lay across me, her body lissom and slippery with salts and soap and water.

We kissed.

“Did you learn that in a book, too?” I said.

“Oh, Daddy, that was easy. I’ve been doing that for years. Just not in front of you. But I been thinking about that. More and more just lately.” She stared into my eyes, her own serious even as she undulated against me, one hand seeking my cock. “Tell me this isn’t wrong, Daddy.”

“I can’t, baby, because it is.”

“Then tell me it’s not wrong for us, me and you, doing these things, loving each other this way.”

“Not between us,” I said. “But we have to take care.”

“I don’t want to take care,” she said, lifting up, and when she came down the head of my cock lay against the tight cleft between her sweet plump labia. “I want to do this.” And she sank onto me so my cock filled her and I watched her eyes widen and her pupils bloom.

“Oh, Em,” I said.

“Fuck me, Daddy.”

She started to move, slow at first, then the pace gradually rising so the water splashed again but we had both stopped caring. Out beyond the window the surf painted an iridescent line along the beach and the moon hovered almost full on the horizon.

“Come in me, Daddy,” Emmy said, her face against my neck.

I grasped the slippy globes of her ass and pulled her down onto my aching cock.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Do me hard like that. Slap my ass. Bite me, Daddy.”

I did no such thing, but I did slap her ass a little, only lightly, and she yelped and grinned and pleaded with me me to do it again.

Her eyes were glassy with lust and I knew she was going to come before she did, her climax sneaking up all at once until she arched her neck and pushed her fingers through her hair, jerking as she rode my cock to ecstasy.

Then she went limp, lying against me, still impaled, moving softly.

“Now it’s your turn, Daddy,” she said.

“Oh, baby.” A sensible father, a responsible father, would have pulled out then, but I was obviously none of those things because I grasped her ass again and rode her hard, both of us desperate for a new release, until it was my turn to cry out as I jetted deep inside her.

We lay that way, intimately joined, until Emmy sat up and said, “The water’s going cold, Daddy. We should go to bed.”

Not our separate beds, but our bed. Hers and mine. And it would forever be that way from that moment on.

I kissed her nose and helped her out of the tub. Patted her dry and then she did the same for me. She lifted my limp cock, pecked it with kisses, then did the same for my balls.

“Think you can get hard again tonight, old man?”

“If you keep doing that the chances are pretty high.”

“Mm, good, ’cause I’m not finished with you yet.”

*

I watched Emmy sitting on a hard plastic bench in the terminal at O’Hare, aware of how much I loved her and how far we’d come, both physically and emotionally. She had gone to College but then one of her stories sold, then another, and when a third came out she stopped going to Atlanta and lived full time with me in the beach house.

She looked up, perhaps aware of my attention on her, and when she saw me pulled a goofy face and crossed her eyes. Even that way she was still the most beautiful woman in the world.

We were flying to Paris to start a new book tour, but this time it wasn’t mine, it was Emmy’s. All three of us were flying.

A voice called our flight and I stood, reached down and picked up the baby carrier and strapped it to my chest.

Emmy came across and kissed me, then kissed Dina on her brow, but our child continued to sleep. I only hoped it would last at least part way through the flight.

Emmy lifted on her toes but I still had to lean over so her lips touched my ear, not wanting anyone to hear.

“Come on, Daddy, I got an idea for something we might want to try once we get up there.”

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