Brandy's Bedroom

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Daddy and daughter play truth or dare.
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- Hello! No warnings this time. This one is as tame as I get. Thanks for reading. Please comment and enjoy. -

*****

"Daddy!"

My daughter dove into my arms. I stumbled back and nearly tripped over the porch steps. It felt good to have her in my arms again after so long. "I've missed you, baby."

"Brandy!" her mother hissed. "Don't hug him like that!"

My daughter let go and stepped back, rolling her eyes for only me to see. I was taking her in. I don't know when she got so tall. She must've been 5'6". I was sure she was under 5' the last time I saw her. She really sprouted these last three years. She had filled out a little too, with a tiny waist and wide hips. Her breasts had grown as well, and her butt was a broken heart waiting to happen.

"Hello, Sam," I said to her mother.

"It's Samantha to you, Charles."

"Charles, a word?" Her scumbag brother stepped toward me. I don't know why this guy felt the need to escort my ex-wife and daughter here, let alone while wearing his police uniform. Probably trying to intimidate me.

"Gonna arrest me again, Henry?"

"Don't tempt me."

"I wouldn't dare," I said. "I know you don't bother with things like evidence or probable cause."

Henry beckoned me over until we were out of earshot of Samantha and Brandy. Brandy looked annoyed as her mother whispered things in her ear.

"I'm here to make something clear to you," Henry said.

"Henry, don't start."

"Shut up and listen," he snapped. "Brandy doesn't believe you're a sick fuck. But you and I know better, don't we?"

"You don't know shit, Henry. You lied in court to get your sister that restraining order, and you kept me away from my daughter for three years."

"And if she wasn't 18, I'd still be keeping you away from her, but if she wants to spend her last summer before college with you, I can't stop her."

"Look, just say what you're going to say."

"I'm going to be checking up on her all summer long," he said, his chin stiff. "And if I find out you've touched her, even looked at her the wrong way, I'm going to beat the hell out of you with my nightstick before I bring you in. You get me?"

"Jesus, Henry. Sam has really twisted your mind with all her lies, hasn't she?"

"Don't fuck with me, Charles. That's my niece."

"I get it. Are you done threatening me?"

He didn't answer, just clicked his tongue and rested his hand on his nightstick before walking back to Samantha. "I think we're done here."

Samantha gave Brandy a hug and then glared at me. "You behave."

"Jesus Christ, Sam. Give me some credit."

They drove off and Brandy waved goodbye. I had to keep from giving them the finger. Brandy smiled at me once they were out of sight. "I've missed you, Daddy. I mean, Dad. Mom says I shouldn't call you 'Daddy'."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Cause it turns you on."

I palmed my face. "That's just... call me whatever you want. Your mother is out of her mind, Brandy. I know she told you some things about me, but they're not true."

She smirked at me. "Okay, Daddy. Come on, I want to see the house. It's been forever."

"You know the way," I said.

She hurried inside. I picked up her suitcases and followed her heart-shaped ass into the living room.

"Oh my god," she said, "even the furniture is the same!"

"It's been three years, Brandy, not 30," I said, setting the luggage down.

"It's just like a blast from the past, you know?"

I followed her as she walked around, trying not to look at that ass she had, the way her blue skirt seemed to fall off it and ripple with every step she took. She had a matching blue halter top and blue sandals. I noticed she had painted her fingers and toes baby blue as well. It contrasted sharply against her long red hair, fanning around her shoulders and chest.

In the dining room, she pulled out one of the chairs and sat at it. I chuckled as I stared at her. "Now that's something I've missed."

"Me too. You were always so fanatical about eating dinner as a family."

"Still am."

"And no cell phones at the table?"

"The rule stands."

"I can follow it," she said, standing up. "Don't want to get a spanking." She winked at me.

I rubbed my face again. I was going to let that one go.

The kitchen was next. She tugged open the refrigerator. "Whoa, I think I left this Chinese food in here three years ago."

"Brandy..."

She giggled. "Seriously, you need to go shopping." She pulled out a bottle of wine. "Wine? No brandy?"

"You don't refrigerate brandy."

"Oh. Do you have any brandy?"

"Yes. Why?"

She shrugged. "Just curious." She put the wine back and closed the refrigerator.

I followed her down the hall, but she didn't go into her room; she went into mine.

"Wow, you still have this giant bed." She ran and jumped on it, lying on her back with her arms spread apart. My eyes were on her blue skirt, the way it was riding up her thighs. I could've seen her panties if I had done something perverted like bend over... but I didn't.

"You remember my bed?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I used to jump on it all the time."

I smirked. "Be my guest."

"Really?" she said, sitting up.

"Sure."

She kicked off her sandals and climbed to her feet. "I'm gonna do it."

"Do it," I said, my eyes darting to her skirt.

"Don't blame me if I break your box spring. I'm not 60 pounds anymore."

"I'm not worried about it."

"Okay, here I go!" She jumped, and as she came down, her skirt came up. I saw a flash of panties: simple white cotton, hugging tight to her crotch, and then they were gone. But up she went again and the skirt with it. My eyes feasted. She was giggling, and then she fell down on the bed. "Mom would kill me if she ever caught me jumping on the bed."

"I'm not as strict as your mother. Ready to see your room?"

"Yup." She jumped off the bed and passed me. Her room was right across the hall. "Wow, you left it just like I had it," she said. It was still painted purple with a purple blanket on the bed, and a desk off to one side that held a small TV. She laughed as she looked at a poster on the wall. "God, I can't believe I ever liked that band. So embarrassing." She ripped it right off the wall, crumpled it up, and dropped it into the paper basket. "It's so purple in here. Did you paint?"

"Not since you made me paint it the first time."

"So crazy. I was so immature." She opened the closet. It was empty. I had shipped all her clothes back to her a long time ago. "It's really weird being back in this room."

"This room has missed you, and so have I."

She stepped forward and gave me a hug. Her mother wasn't there to interrupt us this time, and I held her tight. So she was so warm and soft. It hit me then, I had my baby girl back, at least for the summer.

"I've really missed you, Daddy."

"Me too, kiddo."

"I'm sorry mom kept me away from you for so long."

"Not your fault. It's just how things happened."

She let go of me and sat down on the bed. "Still, it shouldn't have happened like that. I told the judge you never touched me or anything."

"After everything your mother and Henry said, the truth didn't matter. The judge had already made up his mind."

She bit her lip and looked down at her bare feet. She was bending her toes against the carpet. "But, like, is some of it true? Like, what Mom said, how you have a fetish for me? And she said you asked her to act like she was your daughter during sex?"

"Okay, look," I said, rubbing the back of my neck, "I really didn't want to talk about this, but if you want to get it out of the way, here it is. Your mother found out I had looked at some... things online, and so I admitted that, yes, I liked..." I paused, sighing. "I'm trying to phrase this so it's not weird or gross, because it was blown way out of proportion once. It cost me the last three years with you, and I don't want it to cost me anything else."

"Daddy, I'm not worried you're going to touch me or something. And I get it, I'm not a little kid. I know people are into different sex stuff. There's lots of porn out there where people pretend to be father and daughter."

"Okay, I'm going to act like I didn't hear the porn part, but yes, it's pretend. That's it exactly. It's all pretend, role playing. But your mother got it into her head that it meant I wanted to do something to you, which I didn't, and don't, and she used Henry to manipulate that family-court judge into giving her sole custody and refusing me visitation."

She nodded like she understood. "Okay, but is it true you were spanking me because you liked it? That's what mom said."

"No, that's not true. I was punishing you because you were misbehaving. You remember the rules I had about curfew and how you always broke them."

"Yeah, but is it true you told her you wish I'd been born a boy because I was a temptation as a girl?"

"Jesus, she said that?" I covered my face.

"Well, is it true?"

"That was out of context. What I meant was that she wouldn't be worried about me doing anything to you if you were a boy, and that if I wouldn't touch my son, I wouldn't touch my daughter either. That's what I meant."

"She also said you said you wanted to have sex with me on my 18th birthday."

"What the fuck. I never said that."

"Okay, I'm just telling you what she said."

"Well, your mother is exaggerating or lying or whatever, because she's trying to scare you away from seeing me, but I am and always will be your father, and I would never do anything to break your trust. Okay?"

"Okay."

"All right," I said with a heavy sigh. "I'll get your luggage so you can settle in."

I returned to the living room to grab her suitcases. I was glad that was over with. That talk was one I was hoping wouldn't come up, but just the same, I was glad it wasn't hanging over me. I wanted to strangle Sam for all the shit she told Brandy. What a fucking bitch.

When I brought the luggage back, Brandy was sitting on the bed with her back against the headboard, going through an old year book. She turned it around and held it up for me. "Daddy, look at my hair! It's like I'd never heard of a straightener before."

I kissed the top of her head. "Your hair is beautiful, now and then."

"Well, of course you'd say that. You've got the hots for me, now and then."

"Oh, come on, Brandy."

"Just teasing, Daddy," she said. "Hey, let's celebrate my summer vacation."

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

"With a toast, of course, a toast of brandy for Brandy."

"Baby, you're 18."

"Yeah, and I'm not ordering at a bar. I can drink. You know I've been drinking with my friends since I was like 14, right?"

"Believe me, I know."

"Come on, be the cool parent. Let me drink."

I sighed. "Have you ever even had Brandy?"

"Nope, just beer. You haven't really had Brandy yet either." She winked at me.

"Brandy, that's enough, that's not funny."

"Come on, I'll stop teasing you if you give me alcohol."

"You're going to hate it, but why not?"

I went back out to the kitchen and took a bottle of Brandy down from the cabinet. I had plenty of shot glasses. I poured two. I also grabbed a couple beers. She was going to need one. I brought the shot back and handed it to her. I put one of the beers down on her bedside table.

"You're going to need that."

She grinned. "Thanks! Here, sit down, we'll toast." I sat down at the foot of the bed. She raised the shotglass. "To an awesome summer!"

"To summer." We clinked glasses and I took my shot and then watched her take hers. She nearly spit up. She started coughing and turned on her side.

"Oh, god! It's terrible! I can feel my toes tingling!" She coughed again. "God, gross. Why did you name me after that stuff? Yuck. I'm going to name my daughter Appletini or something."

"Your mother named you, and the alcohol had nothing to do with it." I popped the lid off her beer. "Try this."

She took it and swallowed a mouthful. "Ah, that's more my pace."

"You're too young to have a pace."

She settled back into the bed and lifted up her feet. She put her heel on my thigh and crossed her other foot over. My eyes followed her toes to her calves to her thighs to that blue skirt that hinted at so much underneath.

"Rub my feet?" she said. "That brandy made my toes all tingly."

"Sure," I said, placing my hands on top of her foot. My thumb came underneath and ran along her instep.

"Mmm, thanks. Can I ask some more questions about... you know?"

"Baby, can't we just leave the past in the past?"

"I guess I don't understand. I won't get upset even if you're like 'Yes, Brandy, I am all hot and bothered by you and I wanna fuck you.' Like, yeah, that would be weird, but I wouldn't cut you out of my life or anything." She paused to take a gulp of beer. "So I wanna know, how can you separate the pretend stuff from the real stuff? If you like to pretend to have sex with a girl who's your daughter, wouldn't that mean you think of me like that since I'm your legit daughter? And I'm not judging. I'm just curious."

I focused a little more on rubbing her foot, as that task was infinitely easier than explaining my fetish. My thumb ground into the ball of her foot and she inhaled.

"Brandy, it's like this. Let's say you saw a really attractive guy, like maybe one of these guys in one of the posters on your wall. Let's say you met that girly looking boy up there."

"God, Daddy, that's the next poster to go in the trash."

"Just let me do my analogy thing here. So you meet him, and you think he's great and hot or whatever, but at the same time, you know he's not attainable, so you don't think of him like that, since he's out of your league."

"So that's what you think about me, that I'm out of your league?"

I switched feet, rubbing her other one instead. Her eyes seemed to flutter as my thumbs rode into her heel. "Maybe it's more like, I choose to play in another league."

"Hm," she mumbled. "So that means you are attracted to me then?"

I rolled my eyes. I was not going to answer that question point blank. "Don't you have any fetishes?"

She raised her eyes. "You're asking me what my fetishes are?"

"No, no, it was rhetorical. What I'm saying is you said you're not a kid, so I'm sure you have your own things you're into, and they're probably hard to explain to your father."

She shrugged. "Not really. I can explain my fetishes."

"Really?" I said, pausing the foot massage. Now I was curious. "Like what?"

"Do you really want to know?" she said, taking another sip of beer. "Because I might surprise you."

I chuckled. "I'm already surprised. I guess you aren't a virgin anymore." I said it casually, but I wanted a direct answer.

"You wanna know if I'm a virgin?" she asked. "Keep rubbing."

I started rubbing her feet again, running my thumbs up and down her instep. "I'm curious if you are. I think any father would be. And if you aren't, I'd like to hear more about your boyfriend."

"If I answer your question, will you answer my next one, no matter what it is, truthfully?"

"I don't know about that."

"Come on," she said encouragingly. "We'll do it like a game. We'll play truth or dare. But you always have to tell the truth when you pick truth, or if you're too scared, you have to take a dare. The dare can be anything, and you have to do it, but if you don't do it, you lose the game."

"Anything?"

"Anything," she repeated. "But you have to live with yourself if you dare me to do something really mean or wrong, like daring me to have sex with you... so keep that in mind."

I shook my head. "Brandy, come on, I would never dare you to do something that."

"So then let's play. Or are you scared?"

I thought about it for a second as I held her toes in my hand. I wonder what secrets I could hear, and what dares I could make her do. "Okay, deal. But we already started, and it's my turn, and you have to tell the truth. Are you a virgin?"

She smiled. "Okay, truth is... Yes and no."

"Yes and no?"

"Technically, I haven't had a cock in my pussy, but I'm not exactly a virgin."

I cleared my throat. "Well, grown up words..."

"You're the one who asked. Do you want to play or not?"

I did. "What does 'not exactly' mean?"

"I've had lots of things in my pussy, so my pussy doesn't think I'm a virgin."

"Like what?" I asked.

She smirked at me. "Carrots, bananas, I tried celery, corn on the cob, and a cucumber once, but it hurt, so I left it off the grocery list next time."

"Wow, so my daughter was gangbanged by the produce section."

"Clean up in aisle one," she said, taking a sip of beer. "Okay, my turn. Truth or dare?"

"Geez, okay. Truth."

"Did you, or did you not, call mom by my name while you guys were fucking?"

"What the... Who said that, your mom?"

"Yeah. She said that was the very last time you guys did it, and it scared her so much she went to Uncle Henry."

"Look, I, I don't remember. She says it happened, but when it happened, if it happened, I was drunk that night, and I don't remember it."

"You honestly don't remember?"

"I honestly don't."

"So that means it probably happened."

"I can't defend myself against something I can't remember."

She grumbled. "Fine. Your turn."

"Okay. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"You said you could explain your fetishes. Explain one."

"Okay, let's see." She took a sip of beer. "I'm into... daddy-daughter porn."

I nearly fell backward off the bed. "What?"

She bit her lip. "You stopped rubbing my feet."

"Oh, I get it. You're just saying that to fuck with me, aren't you?"

She shook her head. "You can't lie in a game of truth or dare. It's sacred. After mom told me everything about you, I did a lot of research and I looked at some of it online. It turned me on."

"I... don't know what to say."

"But it doesn't mean anything between us, right? Just like you said yours doesn't mean anything. It's all pretend, right?"

I was looking at her a little differently now. "Yeah. Yeah, of course not. I mean, yeah. Does your mother know?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Right, stupid question. I'm just so surprised. Why do you like it?"

"It's my turn. Truth or dare?"

"Truth," I said.

"Okay, why do you like it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Geez, can't you ask me easier questions?"

"You asked me the same question first!"

"It's just... this stuff is uncomfortable to talk about."

"You're telling me! Honestly, you're the only person I can talk to about this, so I'm kinda glad I can finally admit it to someone, you know?"

I smiled. I felt like I really knew her in that moment. We had a secret in common, something a father and daughter should probably never have in common. "All right. I guess I like the dominant and submissive relationship between a father and daughter, the forbidden nature, the trust that's already between them."

"And breaking that trust?" she offered.

I smirked. "My turn. Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Why do you like it?"

"Hm. Well... I guess I like the idea of a daddy taking advantage of me, using me, wanting me, taking care of me, loving me, protecting me. It's like you have a lover, a protector, and a family all wrapped up in one."

"You're really serious, aren't you?"

"Yeah. What, did you think I'm just lying to get you to talk?"

"Not anymore."

"Truth or dare?" she asked.

"Truth."

"Okay, Daddy, be honest. If I was in the 'daddy-daughter league' too, would you want to fuck me? You would, wouldn't you?"

I stared hard at her. "Are you in it?"

"It's still my turn."

I broke eye contact. "I would never do anything you didn't want me to, but I would do anything if you wanted me to."

She seemed to blush. "Oh."

"So what league are you in?"

"You have to say truth or dare first."

"Geez, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"What league are you in?" I asked.