I softened and relaxed against him as I implored gently, “You will join me?”

He kissed the top of my head as he murmured, “Of course.” This is all I longed for. To be held in my father’s arms. Loved by only him. I released him and skipped up the steps, light and full of expectation.

My parents had a large room, with a walk-in closet and full bathroom. I had a bedroom and bathroom of my own, but all the space in theirs was amazing. Double vanity, separate shower and bathtub, and the toilet even had a little room of its own. I remember placing in the stopper and then turning on the tap. I tested the temperature before standing and walking into the closet. My father kept his clothes on the left, and I held a shirt to inhale deeply. I would sit in this closet for hours as a child. As I got older, he permitted me to wear his shirts to sleep whenever loneliness overwhelmed me. I always missed him terribly while he was deployed. At least his scent would act as a comfort throughout those long nights.
I remember how heavy my heart suddenly felt. He was leaving that week, and it would be another half a year before I would see him again.
I sighed and headed back to the tub to check the water level. I untied my top and skirt, then collected the fabric and folded them properly. I spotted myself in the vanity mirror and twisted my head and body to look myself over. There was no end to my captious thoughts. I ran a finger along my tan lines and wished I could sunbathe naked. My honey complexion suddenly gave way to a pale beige as my eyes travelled across my swelling breasts. My nipples were puffy and always erect, while every day my breasts grew more sensitive. My copper-colored hair wavered ad nauseam, caught between a red and brown tone. These “beach curls” were more like wild waves that remained incorrigibly frizzy.

His voice seemed to fall out of the ether, “You didn’t use any bath salts?”

I glanced from his form in the doorway to the tub before shaking my head. My father stepped into the room and placed his half-filled glass on the rim of the tub as he retrieved a bottle from the shelf. He sprinkled the bath salts into the water as I knelt beside him to agitate the pool. Dried lavender buds began to float and dance across the surface of the water. The bathroom soon filled with the scent of lavender and sandalwood.
My father was still dressed, so I watched the ice as it bounced within his glass. I could take a sip if I wanted but found no need to. Instead, I closed my eyes to the familiar shuffle: my father replaced the bottle of bath salts, then dropped to sit behind me. I relaxed back, basking in the feeling of his brawny chest as our heartbeats began to harmonize. He lowered his face, and my chest and shoulders rose in anticipation.
His voice reverberated in my ear while his beard tickled my neck, “Hard water will make your hair brittle and dry out your skin. As a young woman, you must tend to your body properly.”

I could smell the liquor on his breath and welcomed his arms as they slid around my waist. I wanted to fall asleep to the feeling. We were still dirty, but he kissed my neck and shoulders anyway. It was mostly a slow sweeping of his goatee. Sweetly, he covered me in butterfly kisses, so light that his lips would have been imperceptible if I were any less sensitive to him. He raised a palm to my breast and the mass swelled between his fingers. The sensation ignited my longing. My knees became weak as his free hand travelled to my thigh. I lifted to press against his lap as an invitation, allowing two fingers to easily slip into me. They beckoned, then stirred me ever so gently before sliding back out. Now syrupy, they slowly rubbed against my most sensitive spot.

It was bliss. My father focused his tongue and licked circles onto the nape of my neck. The sound of his breathing was hypnotic. I found myself lost until he stopped. I was suddenly cut-off from the comfort of his grasp. He ignored me, reaching to turn off the water as my need took ownership of my body. I slid back to my knees as he stood completely. I watched, growing more desperate, as he stepped away to close the door; I even considered clambering after him. What felt like an eternity was a mere blink.

He faced me and his hunger was apparent. He held his fingers to his nose and his eyes glistened as he smirked, “Such a feminine smell mixed with sweat… Thank you for your show earlier. You know I am always watching you, Veztia. You captivate my every faculty. I promise to show you lots of affection today.”

I smirked and nodded as he returned to me. Once close enough, I nuzzled the bulge in his pants as he fiddled with his belt. He was stalling, making me wait, and I looked up at him as I placed my hands over his own. I wanted to remain calm, but my desires began trickling out. I took over, deftly unclasping his leather belt as he petted my hair.

“Is your thirst so overwhelming?” His sarcasm was apparent as I freed his erection and wrapped my mouth around it, savoring the sweat and musk. I found it impossible to wait any longer and loved the rough taste and smell. I swallowed around him, then rolled my tongue as I released him, so his manhood glistened as it hovered over my nose. I looked beyond it and caught his eyes with mine.
“Yes, but I can be patient. I want to drink it all, only not with my mouth.”

I lean back as I spoke, spreading my legs to give him complete view of my body. He needed to see how desperately I craved him. I remember arching, stretching my neck and reaching down to slip two fingers into my virgin hole. I desired him so intensely. He swore to protect my chastity, but I gyrated against my hand with hope that he would succumb to the impetus.

It took years for my father to descend and willingly join me. My innocent form provided enough allure to bewitch him into watching, but he remained reserved. My father refused to even kiss me until I reached adolescence. My breasts were finally budding, and I was allowed to keep the small patch of pubic curls on my mound. Only after I turned eleven, and with coaxing and liquid courage, he finally allowed me to touch him. His body and tongue became my playground. In that moment, both Veztia and my blue flame were conceived. Alongside my white Bindi, my waist beads were a constant reminder that my body was mature enough to pursue further delights. Every auspicious year, he would pierce a new hole through the cartilage of my ears. Now, we only had two years left before my coming-of-age ceremony. Before he pierced my nose, before his ring finger dotted my forehead with turmeric, I wanted to give my father everything. If he insisted on surrendering me to someone far less worthy, he should at least have the first taste.
I watched him, matching the tempo of my wet sounds to the pace of him masturbating over me. His eyes burrowed into mine and I was plunged into delectation. My orgasm came too quick. I was too wound up to hold back, and my father took the opportunity to press his enflamed tip to my mouth. I kept conscious by sucking and gagging at his frenzied pace.

His knuckles were clenched tight, recklessly jerking until his breath was finally caught in his throat. I wished I could have a second-hand orgasm. He was fully absorbed with my blowjob, and I held my breath as I watched the moment. His eyes were pressed closed, and he breathed out his mouth. His ejaculation came in waves. As the white strands hit my lips, I licked them off as he aimed the rest at my cheek and neck. He said he loved me so much, but the only proof I could obtain was dripping down my chest. I touched my fingertips to the mess. Even after the warmth dissipated, I enjoyed the slick feeling against my skin.

I accepted his softening manhood back into my mouth and sucked him clean. When he slipped from my lips, I licked and lapped at his balls in gratitude. He was immensely grateful, but I only wanted to express my appreciation. Aside from being gifted the thick load of semen, I acknowledged that I also came from them. No matter how often I thought about it, it was amazing to me.
I let him go and he fell to his knees to kiss me. I knew I must wait before he would be ready for more, but he made being patient nearly impossible. I pushed against him, straddled his lap, and grazed my moist slit against his recovering member. He pulled back from our kiss, startled, then placed his hand on my chest to halt me completely. He slid me off him but then offered me a hand so we could stand. I hid my upset by helping my father take off his shirt so he could accompany me in the shower.

Bathing was secondary. Foremost, my father lulled me with his words, “You’re growing so quickly, Veztia, becoming a woman right before my eyes.”
He towered behind me, “This alone is an honor.”
At least he was giving my petition sincere thought. I felt honored. He washed me carefully, but I pouted. I watched as the soap suds and water rinsed away the only tangible trace of our love. I longed for something less ephemeral.
He turned me to face him, then dropped to his knees. I looked down at him as he lifted, then washed, my feet. He worked his way up my legs and was entertained. He pressed my lower lips together while lamenting that I was once so cute and far less smooth down there, “You still look delicious. Such a tender and puffy pussy…”

Obscene language was embarrassing, but my full body flush only heightened my arousal. I felt every kiss, then his tongue, and shuddered. I ran my fingers through his wet hair as he flicked and licked at my clit. His beard and mustache tickled against my silken skin. I stifled my giggles and they morphed into moans as he stirred my insides. He was enthralled, the alcohol freeing his tongue as it lubricated his mind, “I can’t go any deeper, but you’re sticky and still trying to suck my finger in.”
His voice tormented me, and he stopped his good work before I could orgasm again. This was my chance to implore him further. He loved to touch me. He constantly left me wanting, so my body would climax at the snap of his fingers.
I chose my words carefully, “So you can feel it then? How deeply I want you inside me. Fingers neither compare to your length, nor can they spread to your girth.”

He presses his mouth to my nipples in thought, then massaged my butt as he rested his cheeks against my breasts. His reply was muffled.
“You’ve developed here too. How curious… The more I fondle you, the bigger you become.”
My father was too absorbed to spare a single thought towards my rhetorical question.

Then again, no response was a response in and of itself. I should be more direct. He began suckling at my breast as I inveighed against myself. We could’ve continued this banter for hours. He opted to ignore me, so we were at an impasse.

My voice escaped as he suddenly gripped me tight. His tongue lapped circles as he drew more and more of my supple breast into his mouth. My moan began to echo as he held me firmly. I was startled but refused to sink back. Even if he deliberately hurt me, I stood determined to endure it. He pulled away from my breasts with an audible ‘pop’, then stood. His erection continued to threaten me as it pressed against my stomach while he kissed me. I could suffer this much. It was so easy to lose myself at the touch of his tongue to mine. I submitted to his pace and pressed my hands to his manhood. I would prove I was worthy of a man. I wrapped my fingers snuggly around and jerked him methodically. He was aroused by me and my body, and that alone made my ego swell.

His palm collected my thigh and I lifted my leg to brace myself against him. I relinquished complete control of my body. Once his free hand collected my remaining thigh, I was easily lifted off my feet. There was still a difference in height, but I was flexible enough to manage. I began to drown, unable to breathe with my mouth occupied. The shower splashed between us; reminding me that this was not a dream. Just a single shift, subtle nudge or sudden jostle, would be enough to allow him to plunge into me. I was resolved and at least his body was too. If he needed a scapegoat, we could blame it on gravity. Everything was ready and in place, so it all came down to my father. He refused, and I doubted that his choice would change, even if we stayed in that moment forever.

I broke our kiss, then offered to wash him in return. He lowered me back to my feet, so I dropped to my knees to scrub in between each of his toes. The water sprayed above me, soaking my hair as I moved up his body. I lathered his legs good, then used my mouth to wash his manhood properly.
“You’ve gotten good at washing cocks, Veztia. You must’ve had a great teacher,” he stroked his beard as he complimented himself.
I nodded and answered, but my response emerged as mere vibration down the length of his manhood. He gripped my hair while thrusting his hips slightly, his voice becoming a low grumble, “Good girl, cover it in your drool…”
Perhaps this was enough for him. I kept my hands busy, fondling his balls as my saliva frothed and collected in my palms. I was angry but would not express it.

“I’m gonna let it out in your mouth Veztia. You want a taste of me? Do your best to swallow it all.” That was a challenge. As badly as I wanted his load inside of me, his words were a direct order.
I collected as much as I could before needing to swallow. My cheeks became full and bulged, but I managed to contain and gulp down most of it. I sucked and licked him clean again, then licked my lips and wanted more as I stood. My mouth was warm and wet, but oral sex should pale in comparison to steeping himself within virgin flesh.

He turned off the shower, then transformed me into a slobbery mess as we kissed. I found it hard to think or be upset as his tongue explored every corner of my mouth. His hands traversed my body and awakened goosebumps as his fingers found their way to my anus. I shivered as a fingertip pressed steadily against all resistance to gain entry. The foreign feeling was terribly naughty, but I fought against nature to relax and accept the desperate intrusion. My father would not rattle me. Regardless of how embarrassing or terribly dirty the act would be, I would neither fret nor make a scene.
He seemed to have satisfied his curiosity and withdrew. He continued to confound me. Our kissing eventually slowed enough for him to carry me into the tub. I was further unsettled. Did I somehow fail him? I was open to any sexual experience with him. Perhaps my body was still underdeveloped. He would know best when I was ready enough to accommodate him.
I was plagued as I sat on my throne, the space between his legs. My lower lip disappeared between my teeth while my father braided my hair. I chewed as I pondered. He only learned the skill for the sake of his daughters, but as a navy man he proved adept with his hands. Once finished, I turned to face him. I pressed my thumb to his lips and looked deep into his eyes. I must know.
I gathered my resolve and asked, “When will you enter me? I love you and I want to be fully yours.” My blue flame had yet to fully form, and I imagined this was why. He left me feeling insecure.

He looked me in the eye, then used his free hand to collect my own. His eyes were clear and honest as he replaced my question with his own, “How many times must I fall in love with you? The first, was the moment I held you as a baby. Ever since, I have been left bewildered, swooning over your beauty and astonished by your tenacity. You insist on crossing every bridge. I fear I will fall again, the moment you become my woman.”
I pouted as my selfishness bubbled up. His face became tired, his expression weary, so he closed his eyes and sighed. After a long drink, he ran his hand down my long plait. He reached the end, and I felt the water become unsettled as his fingers began to twist.
My head was suddenly tilted upwards as my father abruptly tugged. A gasp escaped my lips and our eyes met again as he opened his own. He wanted to scare me. Frighten me with his strength. He continued wrapping my braid around his fist, but I calmed my heart and continued to flood him with desire. I was not my mother. He was free to fulfill his every desire and I would still love him. I was his daughter.
He caressed my cheek in consideration, “I’m stuck in a paradox Veztia, where time is moving so slowly and yet passing by too fast. Are you sure you want to shed the remains of your childhood? What of the consequences? This is something that can only be given once, and the repercussions might not be felt until you least expect it.”

I only knew that I loved him and wanted all of him. He was of course married, and my father, but I was apprehensive. The war could never end, and he had duties that sent him far away from me. I knew my time by his side was limited and I must accept the future that was prepared for me. One day I would leave: either sent off as a wife or sworn to the self-sacrifice of war. Even if we could never wear matching rings, I wanted my father to have all of me. As flesh of his flesh, I accepted there was no man greater than him.
My stance was unyielding, “You are my beloved and I belong to you. Every precious first belongs to you. I will, however, acquiesce.”
He kissed me in response, and I deepened the contact. I licked his tongue, and we began a game of chase within our mouths. We were bonded by our arousal and held together by the need to catch and suck on lips, cheeks, ears… any free patch of flesh that elicited a moan or sigh, until we were breathless and interrupted by a knock at the door. It was always so hard to part, so we chose not to. I recall reaching for his glass as he caught my nipple between his teeth, and I quivered.
The pain was welcome, and I loved feeling the sharp tingle that travelled my spine in response. I would rather him pierce my nipples, than my nose. I did not want a Nath and I never needed to become a bride. Only he needed to see me as a woman.
My next yelp became a mischievous grin. Both of my nipples stung, so he grabbed my hands to pull me close again. Face-to-face, he soon caught my tongue again with his. One hand travelled to my back as the other intertwined its fingers with my own. It was sweet, until my mother opened the door. There was no need to separate, but we pressed our foreheads together and looked her way in tandem. His hands clenched into fists before loosening to free me completely.

She shook her head in displeasure. My mother was past the point of flushing red whenever she walked in on us, and merely exhaled, “I wondered where you two were. I’m about to start on dinner, so come down when you’re done.”
She focused her gaze at me, and I straightened so my father had his face enveloped within my breasts. If it fazed the older woman I could not tell, as her nasally voice continued, “Renne, have you finished your homework? You have school tomorrow.”
My father dropped his hand from my back. I forced a smile as I nodded, “Of course, mother,” I handed my father his glass, then turned to sit and press my back to him.

I doubted her sudden interest in my schoolwork. I was always ranked first in my class and she had never seen me complete my assignments. I usually finished them before leaving the school building. This was all convenient justification for barging in.
She continued to hold the door ajar, and a chill swept in to fan my disdain. I harbored very few secrets from my father, and there was little about me that he refused to accept or understand. My father felt me shiver and wrapped his arms around me. He should understand that as Veztia, my mother was my rival. I questioned who his frustration was aimed towards, as his deep breath warmed the room. He used his pyrokinesis subconsciously, warming our bodies and the water as he spoke.

“Love, the bath’s getting cold. We’ll be out in a bit.”

I felt him tilt his head and my love for him became insignificant. My parents also had a way of communicating with only their eyes. I was immediately excluded from the rest of their conversation.
They married for love instead of convenience. I was a part of my father but held at a distance. I have heard him having sex with my mother, and I worried that meant he loved his wife more than me. I became restless. I was as much of a woman as she was, but I was still young and could give him so much more. There were so many reasons why he should choose me.
Could we go away? Move to an island where no one knew us and simply start fresh? After the divorce, he would be free to love me. Or we could stay right here. Continue to love each other as we have been, only without hiding behind walls and closed doors. I had so much to offer him. I just needed the opportunity.

My mother looked away and shook her head again. I was no threat to her. I was not even seen as competition since she was already avowed to my father. Their wedding rings shone like the color of daybreak and I was wrought with jealousy. They had two kids and a full life together.
“Alright, just keep it down in here; Izu is downstairs,” she sighed.
My mother closed the door as she left, and I wondered if she would ever leave my father willingly. There had to be some way I could have him all to myself without killing her. He told me that marriage was only “the way for two strangers to become family” and since we are already family, it was unnecessary. We could not be any closer to each other since we shared the same genetics. That was also why our bodies were so compatible. I was born to be loved by him.

“Veztia, stand up.”

I barely registered his voice, only the command. I stood, naturally obedient, then turned to look down at him while he took a long drink. He studied me while my disparaging thoughts ran rampant. He was irked, but his irritation was not my fault. Eventually, his focus softened.
He brought his glass to hover at his lips as he spoke, “I’ll honor your request, if you honor one of mine. Turn around and spread your pussy for me. I want to memorize the sight of it immaculate and undefiled…”

My world brightened and my skin flushed. I licked my lips, then nodded and turned my back to him again. I leaned forward and reached beneath me to spread my lower lips. I used only my index and middle fingers so he could get a good look into my vagina as I chewed on my lower lip.
“Oh, Veztia… I can see all the way up your pussy. It’s so pretty inside…”
His voice was crystal clear, and he moved closer to press his cold glass to the back of my thigh. My insides tightened in surprise and caused my father to hum deeply. Was it my imagination, or had he also forsaken his usual hushed tone? I remember shivering at the coolness of his tongue. It wriggled and swirled inside me, before leaving a cold trail of saliva as it made its way to my butt. He licked, attempting to insert his tongue as he rubbed his fingertips against my vaginal walls.

The sensation numbed my mind until he continued, “Such a wonderful sight. You’re so sensitive, even your anus twitches at contact. You’re determined to violate every taboo…”

I became thoroughly embarrassed but equally aroused as my father used his voice to soothe me. His tongue was powerful, and I felt the muscles of my vagina constricting around his fingers as it began penetrating me. Sodomy had never crossed my mind as an option, but I would not be opposed. However, I preferred to shed the last of my virginity. I wanted to be reformed new, as his and only his, regardless of consequence.
My mother instructed us to keep it down, but his voice was loud enough to echo. I realized that by talking, he was intentionally disobeying her.
“There’s so much love juice. Are you that eager? Your pussy is overflowing Renne…”
He spoke my real name and my heart skipped a beat. In an instant, he stopped pretending. My father had finally decided to have sex with me, and it would be as me. I struggled to both think and reply.

“Your fingers, are the best… You are… making me feel, too good… I… I am losing, my strength,” I whimpered, but was ready for more than just his fingers. He had always held back and was now rekindling my need. I fixated on how deep his tongue was probing. Regardless of the hole, I would prove I was ready and wanting.

The water splashed as he stood and grabbed my hip. His left hand slid to my thigh as the right grasped my neck. He lifted my leg and pulled me against him, so his manhood stood rigid against the curve of my butt.
“Daddy’s hand is covered in your nectar Renne… You’re thick and ripened; I’ve reached my limit. I won’t hold back anymore.”
He used my real name and our real relation! It was all I have ever dreamed! My body was inflamed at the concession, “You’ve been craving my dick for so long Renne, let me fill your need.”

I was blinded by my love for him and saw white. There was a moment of searing pain, but it melted away to intense heat as my father wasted no time. He pulled back, repositioned, then immediately filled me with his entire length.
“How fast should daddy’s cock be going in and out of your pussy Renne? I think I’m going to take my time and enjoy this! Does it feel good!?”
It did! I felt him within my belly. Spreading and stretching my muscles, far deeper than I ever thought possible. I could not fathom how he managed to speak. The experience still echoes throughout my body.
I pressed my palms to find the walls around me, flailing for support from the cold tiles. The bath water churned as I gave up and I reached for him behind me. My fingertips found his head, then slipped. My hands fell to his and I held onto his wrists. I struggled to breathe with every thrust and my voice released on its own.

The act was new and totally different than our fingers. I could only moan as I broke out in a sweat. My thoughts disassembled and scattered as my body was jerked forward and back. He was hard, rocklike, and there was a pulsing that ran throughout my core as he slid in and out of me. My insides were wet and dry at the same time. My body molded itself to take on his form and shape, and I remember gasping, “S-So hot and deep, Daddy… Yes, yes, awesome! A-Amazing, and so… so good!”

My voice became foreign to me. I had waited and waited for this! I was finally a woman, my father made me his woman, and I wanted to enjoy the feeling for as long as possible. I needed to learn everything I could. Was he acting out, railing against my mother in a final act of defiance? Perhaps this moment was only because of the alcohol coursing through his system. It did not matter. With every exhalation, I could tell that these were his real feelings. We were having sex.

His voice mirrored his vigor, “This tightness is sublime! It’s my privilege as your father, and I’m gonna enjoy your body to the fullest! I’ll take care of you forever Renne!” His lust for me was strong enough to finally condense.
I worried that I was dreaming. My vision blurred and I struggled to keep my eyes open as my father thrusted harder. He was growing inside me; I felt it clearly. His manhood expanded as his right hand threatened to crush my windpipe. With my left foot settled on the rim of the tub, my father repositioned his left hand to rub against my clit. I cried out and trembled as I shook my head, “D-Daddy, I… I am… Please, wait…”
He quickened his pace and edged me closer to orgasm. He gripped my throat tightly, like a beast, and raised his voice louder.
“Ahh, you like it rough Renne!? Your body is so honest! Go ahead and cum, orgasm on Daddy’s dick! I’m going to cum too Renne! Where do you want it!?”

My body was ravaged, and I became engrossed in his domination. I loved it rough? If there were another way to have sex, he had yet to show me. It felt like I was overheating, delirious, as my brain turned into mush. I could not swallow fast enough, so my saliva pooled and sputtered with every trill. There was only one place I ever wanted his semen. My secret flew free, suddenly airborne as it escaped from the confines of my mind during the frenzy.

“Inside me! Do-not… Oh, do-not pull out! Please, Daddy! I want all your cum deep inside!”

He gripped my throat tight to keep me from pulling away. My vision darkened as my orgasm neared its apex. I was losing consciousness, but he continued to slam into me. My mind was numbed by his response, “I’ll do it Renne! Deep inside your pussy! Daddy is going to pour all his cum into you! I’m going to fill your pussy with a load of my thick semen!”

I cannot remember if it was just hearing him speak, or the mental image and the promise it carried, that triggered my orgasm. Beyond the slopping water at our ankles, I only heard my detached voice as it sang, “Yes! Ah, oh, yes! Daddy, yes-yes-yes! You-oh, my… my body… so-so deep inside me… Fill me!”

My body spasmed against him and I arched my back. I felt a sudden but familiar release. The rush sprayed between our bouncing bodies as his warmth filled me in spurts. My father held me tight as he shuddered and ejaculated. It was all too much, and I felt thoroughly exhausted. His manhood slipped from inside me as I was collected against his chest.
Perhaps I was still too young. I was little more than a terracotta doll within his arms, and nearly shattered under the strain of adult relations. I regretted nothing though. He was tired too. His chest heaved against my back. We both chuckled faintly; we were unsure if our bodies were covered in sweat or bath water.

His semen tickled as it dribbled down my leg, and eventually gravity pulled our bodies back into what was left of our bath. I turned to curl against him in the tub, then closed my eyes and bit my lip. Why did that moment have to end?
“You’re a woman now Renne,” his voice was a raspy whisper into my ear.
Tears of joy further moistened my cheeks, and I wiped them with his chest hair as I nodded. I lifted, and he covered my neck in kisses. If only we never had to separate my body from his.

“Yes, but I am yours, and you will always be my father. I will love you forever.”

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