Emily Untethered Ch. 02

He headed to the kitchen and grabbed another beer. "Would you like one?"

She was quiet for a second and then nodded. "Why not," she said.

He pulled out another one and handed it to her.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he said.

She shook her head. "You don't have anything to be sorry about."

He nodded. "That's what I mean. I'm sorry about being sorry earlier. Wait, that's not what I mean."

She smiled and took a drink, wincing at the bitter taste.

"I mean, you're right. I should stop beating myself up. I'm going to admit something, and it's hard to say, so bear with me."

She looked up at him, surprised, and then headed to the couch her beer in hand. He joined her and then cleared his throat and looked into his beer. A few minutes of silence passed, and still she waited quietly.

"You turn me on," he said, finally.

Hearing it had more of an effect on her than she thought it would. She was actually surprised. She'd known she turned him on, but to hear him accept it, to vocalize the thought, was something else.

"I know it's because you're a woman now, and that you look so much like your mother. That's the only explanation. I'd never picture my daughter that way, not if she didn't look so much like the woman I was married to."

"I know you wouldn't, Daddy," she said. "I can't help the way I look. It's not going to change enough for you to be at ease, until you find someone else to demand your attention."

He nodded. "I'm not saying I've completely accepted it, and I'll never be okay with noticing you in that way, but it's a step."

She smiled and leaned over to hug him. He squeezed her tightly. "I love you, Emily," he said.

"I love you too, Daddy."

She pulled back and smiled as he kissed her on the forehead.

"I have a question for you, that you might not want to answer," she said eventually, sitting back on her side of the couch. "God knows it's not easy to ask."

He looked at her curiously, but eventually nodded. "Go ahead, then."

She cleared her throat and looked over at him. "So since you haven't had any in a long time, why don't you just... take care of it by hand?"

He sighed. "We said we'd be honest. I used to have to jerk off, like I told you, but when I try nowadays, I just can't. I just see her, and then remember she's cheating on me, or see her in compromising positions with a myriad of guys."

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," she said, wishing she could do something for him.

He shrugged.

"Well, what about the internet?"

He shook his head. "I can't do that. I've never been into porn like that. All I ever needed was a picture of your mom."

She sighed. "Well, short of paying for a hooker, you have to be able to take care of yourself. Maybe you can think of someone else, like a supermodel maybe?"

He shook his head. "I keep seeing her."

She sat quietly, lost in thought for a few minutes. "I'll think of something, just give me some time," she said.

"I'll be okay," he told her, but could see that she'd already decided to figure out the problem. "No offense, but I don't really want my daughter trying to figure out a way for her old man to get off."

She took another drink of her beer and then turned to him. "So are you ready for more of what happened to me in California? It might be a good test for you. We can see if you can handle more and if not, we can just watch TV."

He was quiet for a second, but then nodded slowly. "Just ignore my facial expressions," he said.

She smiled. "Okay, so I think the last time we talked, I told you that I'd moved farther than hand jobs, correct."

He nodded.

She cleared her throat and thought quietly for a moment. "Well, I started..." she paused and glanced over at him.

"I'm going to have to get used to the thought, so just go ahead and say it."

*****

"Sucking his dick," she said, finally. He sighed. The image of her lips wrapping around a stranger's penis entered his head. He shook the image away.

"I was terrible at it at first," she admitted. "I basically just held it in my mouth the first time. He had to tell me what he wanted. I'd never done that before, so I figure I was pretty bad that first time."

"No blowjob is ever bad," he said, and then shook his head. "Did I just say that to my own daughter?" The amused expression on her face told him that he'd indeed said it.

"Well, Shawn would agree with you. He didn't last very long, that first time, and after that it kind of became a regular thing. I'd go to class, and then I'd go over to Shawn's and we'd fool around, and eventually I'd end up giving him... a blowjob," she said hesitantly, looking over and trying to gauge his reaction.

Her tender young lips wrapping around another cock flashed into his head and he shook away the image.

"Do I need to stop?"

He cleared his throat and shook his head. "No, I'm okay," he said eventually.

"He was true to his word though, and he didn't push the sex issue for a long time. We'd fool around and he contented himself with getting head."

He pictured her on her knees that time, and the image was harder to get out of his head.

"You know, Daddy, this probably isn't helping with you picturing me like mom," she said.

"Well, if I can learn to accept you doing this, then maybe I can learn to accept her leaving."

"Okay," she said. "After awhile of making him go on his stomach, he accidentally... went...in my mouth," she said, glancing over at him.

"FUCK," he thought, and felt a familiar stirring in his pants. "You aren't getting aroused, you aren't, you aren't," he kept repeating to himself.

"He told me that it surprised him and that he was sorry, and that he'd never do it again. I held out from him for a few weeks, made him take me to dinner and some concerts before I went down on him again. I didn't actually mind that he'd done it, though," she said. She'd apparently realized that she'd gotten lost in telling the story and forgotten about him. She glanced up at him and must have seen the expression on his face.

"Oh, Daddy," she said, "I'm sorry. Let's stop for tonight."

He nodded. "That sounds good."

*****

She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Oh my god, he's got a boner!" she kept thinking. She wasn't appalled, however. She'd just been talking about an ex-boyfriend coming in her mouth.

"I thought we said we didn't need to be so descriptive," he said.

She shrugged. "You also said you could handle the story,' she said.

"True," he agreed.

He was desperately trying to act like the tent in his pants wasn't there, and suddenly stood and headed upstairs.

She sighed. "What the hell am I doing?" she asked the empty room.

Was this really a good idea? What good could come from talking to her sexually deprived father about her own sex life. She stood then and headed upstairs, thoughts of sex out in California filling her head.

"Now I'm going to have to masturbate," she thought, and headed to take a shower. That's when another thought hit her. She had just started to play with her pussy when she realized that she was enjoying telling the story. She liked the idea of someone getting turned on by her sexual exploits, and the fact that it was her father didn't really enter into it. Did it? She shrugged and pushed the thoughts away, thoughts of her ex-boyfriend, Mike, thrusting his cock into her, while someone else, his friend Matt perhaps, filled her mouth. She began to come then, her knees going weak as she slid to the floor, water running in rivulets across her naked body.

"I miss having sex," she realized. Talking about it might be therapeutic, but she was masturbating after every session. She sighed and let the water run over her. "I'm just as bad as dad," she said.

"At least he's got a reason," she said, after she finished her shower and hopped out. "Maybe I can find some of mom's old sexy underwear and he can use that," she told herself in the mirror. The thought entered her head and made her wonder what was wrong with her.

"Maybe I just need to live my life and stop worrying about my dad's fucking sex life," she said.

Sighing, she exited the shower and went to her room, changing into a long t-shirt and some panties and brushing her hair. She headed downstairs and saw her dad back in his spot on the couch. She joined him and pretended to watch the show he was watching.

"So," she said, and he turned as she interrupted the dialogue of the movie. He sighed and turned it down.

"I didn't think we were done," he said, turning to her. She saw his eyes drop to her crotch and then back up to her face. She glanced down and swore silently.

"Sorry," she said, realizing she'd been flashing her girly white panties at him. She closed her legs in a more ladylike fashion.

He chuckled then and shook his head. "You know, I think we're just going to have to accept the fact that shit like this is going to happen."

She smiled, glad that he was finally admitting it was okay.

"What were you going to say?" he prodded.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe I could find some of mom's old underwear for you?"

He shrugged. "You can look, but she took everything of hers, save for a stray sock, and those aren't sexy in the least."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. "Well, what about a sexy photo of her?"

He shook his head. "She would have cussed before she did anything that risqué, for me at least."

She frowned. "I really want to figure this out," she said. "I really think that if we can get you back on a normal routine, you won't freak out or look at me so awkwardly."

"Look, you were rubbing you're sexy little friend with oil, it wasn't my fault."

Emily smiled. "I can always do that again, you know. You can look out the window overlooking the pool and... take matters into your own hands. You'd be looking at a perfectly acceptable person to masturbate to."

He shook his head. "I'm not having this conversation with my own daughter," he said.

"Yeah you are," she said, "you old pervert."

He looked at her, mouth agape. "I can't believe you just called me that," he said, but he saw the mirth in her eyes and knew she was kidding. "Listen here," he said and lunged forward, his fingers tickling her.

She began cackling in laughter, kicking her legs as he relentlessly assaulted her ribs. "Okay, stop, truce," she yelled.

He smiled and released her, letting her fall back into the couch. "So can I ask you something?"

She turned and nodded.

"Why are you so detailed with what you're telling me about California?"

She thought for a minute.

"I like reliving a lot of what happened," she admitted finally.

"So giving your boyfriend... what you gave him, doesn't bother you?"

"A blowjob," she corrected. "And no, that's not the reason that I had so much trouble out there. Here, let me see if I can make the whole story more succinct.

She turned and looked directly at him. "I did a lot out there. I mean, a lot. I don't know that I could even tell you everything that I did. Some of it is definitely sinful, and embarrassing, especially telling my own father."

He nodded, swallowing hard. "I expected as much."

"The problem I'm having is that I don't regret it as much as I should. I turned into a complete and total wanton harlot. I did whatever Shawn wanted. I was with other men, other women, sometimes all at once."

He swallowed hard again.

"I mean, I didn't regret any of it. It was so much fun! Even talking about it now makes me have to go shower and take care of things for myself. You said it yourself the other day, I was such a good girl in high school. I never did anything for you guys to be disappointed in me for. Then I move out to California and I turn into this sexual beast, and I couldn't have cared less. In the end, I was crying in my shower, picturing this black ooze just leaking out of my skin, like it was all the failure, and the pain that I'd experienced. I cried for hours that night, and packed my stuff up the next day to come home. I didn't even tell Shawn until I'd gotten home."

He sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"What is wrong with me?" she asked, turning and looking at him. "If I enjoyed it, why do I still feel bad? Why did I cry so much that last night I was there?"

"Nothing is wrong with you honey," he said. "Sweetie, you lived under the thumb of a religious tyrant for most of your life. You went out to a notoriously free place, and met a guy that knew how to push you to do things you'd never do here. I imagine that it felt so good, that it just snowballed and you couldn't stop. You might understand it better if you realize that sex can be a drug, just as hard to break as any substance."

She turned and brushed a tear away. "Wow. I never thought about it like that."

"Honey, you've got nothing to be ashamed about. I don't think any less of you, and I love you."

*****

She brushed another tear away and looked down, before a smile crept to her face. She half-stood then, and turned to hug him, but she was off balance and one of her knees was headed directly for his crotch. She shifted just in time and he found that she was straddling him.

She went with it, however, and wrapped him in a hug. His cock, however, had plans of its own and halfway through the hug, it throbbed to life. He patted her back then, trying to comfort her, but also signaling that the hug was over. She sat back then and looked at him.

"Thank you," she said, looking directly at him. "I feel better about all of that stuff now. Why is it that you always know what to say?"

She got to the word say before it was obvious that she felt his growing erection. They both froze. The expression on her face was hard to read. She seemed to be afraid to move, and he seemed to be as well, as his growing member pushed against her crotch.

Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, he felt the slightest pressure back on his groin.

"Oh my God," he thought. "Stop this!" His cock was pressing upwards, the tip just barely touching and pushing at her white cotton panties, sliding gently up into her slit.

She bit the edge of her lip and leaned forward in the hug, the act rubbing his cock directly up against her pussy and pushing it upwards across her clitoris. She moaned, an orgasm shaking her body.

"Oh, fuck," she cried. "I'm so sorry, Daddy," she said, between moans. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she said, her hips grinding into him gently, his cock prodding her softly. "I'm so sorry, I can't help it," she cried, tears running down her face.

Eventually her orgasm subsided, and she pulled back, tears on her face and pulled herself off of him. "Emily, wait," he said, and reached for her as she headed upstairs. She ran to her room and shut the door, locking it behind her.

He stopped at her door and knocked quietly. "Baby, please, let's talk about this," he said.

"Please go away," she said, obviously crying inside.

He sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong. We were both turned on."

She opened the door then, her face streaked with tears. "You have an excuse. You haven't been getting any. I've had acres of sex out in California, and now I waltz around my own house in my panties, telling my own perverted sex tales to my father, and then I dry hump him." She collapsed in her doorway, sobbing. "What's wrong with me?" she asked, looking up at him through tear streaked eyes.

"Shh," he said over and over again, sitting in her doorway. He held her there and stroked her hair for over an hour.

She eventually wiped her eyes and sat up. "I'm sorry," she said, looking up at him. "I'm some kind of deviant. I can't help myself. I thought I'd left that life out in California. I'm sure you'll come home one day and find me with five or six guys."

"Honey, stop," he said. "We were both there. I'm the one you were rubbing against, remember? I'm the one that had a hard on. It takes two to tango," he said.

She shook her head. "I should have stopped. I knew I should have. I just couldn't."

"Just stop, sweetie," he said. "We can just forget it happened."

She sighed and shook her head. "I don't think so. What the hell is wrong with me?"

He pulled her face up to look into her eyes. "It never happened," he said. "Okay?"

She looked him in the eyes for a minute before hugging him again.

"I'm going to go to sleep," she said, after a few minutes.

He nodded. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She sighed. "No, but I'll be okay for tonight."

He held her there for a while, intent on not breaking the hug until she released him. Eventually she pulled away and turned, shutting the door behind her. He shook his head and headed to his own room.

Sleep didn't find him, however, and he lay in the darkness staring up at the ceiling.

"Fuck, he thought, over and over. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

His thoughts kept drifting back to what had happened. He'd been semi-erect from what she'd been telling him. He had to admit that to himself. His reactions to her story ranged from complete bewilderment to raging hard on, sometimes at the same time. He'd gotten a massive erection the first time she'd said "sucking his dick" and he hated himself for it.

Christine entered his thoughts again. "Why?" he whispered. "If she'd hadn't left, I wouldn't be seeing her face when I look at my own daughter. She'd still be fucked up from California, but I wouldn't be fucking turned on by her damn stories."

He grabbed a pillow and put it over his face and screamed into it in frustration. Spent, he finally put the pillow down and closed his eyes.

"Fuck," he swore again.

Sleep eventually did claim him, but he slept fitfully.

Blonde hair cascaded over his torso, rose red lips against pale cheeks wrapped themselves around a thick cock, looking down, he realized it was his. His daughter's blue eyes look up at him as he erupts into her mouth.

John awoke with a start. "Fuck you, no," he thought, swearing at whoever had put the thoughts into his head.

He sat up, something didn't feel right. "What the hell?" he asked, feeling wetness around his crotch.

"Seriously?" he asked the darkness quietly. "Fuck, I just had a wet dream," he thought.

"What am I, twelve again?" he whispered, throwing the covers back in disgust and heading to his bathroom.

*****

Morning came and Emily headed downstairs. She heard her dad puttering around the kitchen and stopped, wondering if she should just head down and face the music, or hide up in her room until tomorrow.

She sighed and took another step down and entered the kitchen. "Let's just pretend it didn't happen," she told herself.

He turned and froze for a second, but then went back to making breakfast. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied, looking over at what he was making. "What terribly bad for you dish are we having this morning?"

He smirked at her and held up a bowl and pulled a whisk out of it. "Pancakes aren't that bad for you."

She smiled. "Yeah, I guess."

He turned and winked and reached for a package of mini-chocolate chips and poured some in the batter.

She sighed. "Not that bad my butt."

"Just like I used to make when you were a kid."

She couldn't help but smile at that. Breakfast was mercifully quiet. Finishing her stack, she stood and put the dishes in the sink. Glancing over at the clock, she turned and looked at her father.

"I think I might go to Church."

Her father looked over. "Yeah?"

She smiled slightly and nodded. "Yeah, as long as I don't burst into flames when I walk in."

He chuckled at that. "Honey, if your mom can make it, you'll be fine."

"Did you just compare me to her?" she asked, turning and looking directly at him.

He stared back dumbly for a second. "I uh, no, it was..."

She giggled and kept walking.

"Not nice," he called.