SPRING 1994
In the months that followed, through March and April and May, our relationship changed, both of us fundamentally altered by that night. We were suddenly in new unknown territory; now longer was it just the innocent loving father-daughter relationship we'd lived for eighteen years.
I think it was easier for me, my youth allowing me to immediately accept the fact I wanted Daddy as my lover, as my husband. Oh, I knew about society's rejection of this forbidden love, of society's criminalization of what we would do, but my mind had easily accepted what my body was demanding. It was harder for him; society's taboos against sleeping with your daughter were deeply ingrained in him. While I welcomed what my body was demanding, I could see him continually fight his ever increasing urges.
Everything I did over those months was directed at making Daddy accept what I knew was inevitable but still as I studied the problem and incest in general I was stunned at what I found.
Daughters do love their fathers like I did! In fact as I read and studied I found that for someone like me, an only child whose mother had left her when she was ten years old, it was almost inevitable that I would try to take my Mommies place and become Daddy's girl.
I set out to seduce him over those months. I dressed better, no more jeans or sweats and sneakers at dinner, instead I changed to dresses, or blouse and skirt ensembles, just sexy enough that Daddy couldn't ignore the woman I'd become.
I made sure I hugged him every day, holding him each time just seconds longer than normal, making Daddy feel the woman I was.
I'd join him in the TV room fresh from the shower, perfumed now, and just in a robe, and would snuggle against him as we watched a rented movie I'd chosen. Over those weeks and months Daddy increasingly stayed home more than he had ever done before, hardly ever missing dinner, his social life now evenings with his daughter.
I even teased him from time to time, as I'd sit with him watching a movie I'd ask him why he wasn't out with one of his many girlfriends, how come he was spending so much time at home. "I'm only going to have you for a few more months' sweetie," he'd reply as he hugged me.
Increasingly I felt and saw his excitement, the growing sexual desire he felt for me, couldn't help but notice the erections Daddy'd grow as I wriggled against him, my loose robe allowing his roving eyes easy access to my full, firm breasts.
We didn't discuss what was happening to us over those months, we were in a silent, sexual, mating dance that clearly scared Daddy. But I knew he was studying the problem, trying to face these forbidden desires that were threatening to overwhelm him.
I found the books hidden in his bedroom, both scholarly tomes that addressed father-daughter love, as well as erotic accounts of graphic, incestuous sex. His computers browsing history increasingly led me to the sites Daddy had been surfing, sites that had accounts of, and actual videos of fathers making love to their daughters.
~~~~~
I remembered all this as I lay in Daddy's bed that June morning, stroking myself, a poor substitute for what I wanted, what I needed. But we'd be Europe soon, then I knew it'd happen...
JUNE 23rd 1994 – PARIS
Our flight left Pittsburgh airport at seven in the morning, arriving at Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris at seven pm French time.
After finally collecting our bags and clearing customs, something the French are masters at making difficult, we finally got out of the airport around nine-thirty, and as Daddy drove our rented car towards our small but upscale four star hotel on the Left Bank I started to talk, knowing I had to explain exactly what I had done before we got there.
"About the hotel Daddy, our room," I started tentatively.
"Un huh," he muttered, clearly engrossed in the passing city.
"The reservation Daddy, it's.... I mean to say it's..." I stammered.
"What Steff?" he asked, taking his eye of the road for a sec to look at me, a big smile on his face.
"Well.... I sorta did something strange ... it was really a mistake at first, I mean I didn't plan it... it just happened when I booked, and then I..... well, I just kinda let it go, I... you might not, I don't know, like it or..."
"C'mon honey spit it out," he ordered as his hand left the steering wheel for a second and caressed my thigh.
"Well," I started again, my face now scrunched up in a near grimace, "The hotel might be expecting a married couple Daddy, a couple on their honeymoon."
"Huh, how come?" he asked, a confused look crossing his face, his fingers momentarily tightening on my bare upper leg.
Rushing now, eager to spill the whole story in one fell swoop, I explained, "When I filled in the online registration form Daddy, I must have filled in the wrong box and before I knew what happened... well I had reserved just one room and it was confirmed as Doctor and Mrs. James and I don't know, I didn't change it... you know it was sorta funny, and then I thought we really didn't need two rooms for just two people, I mean we'd save money this way and..."
"And why would they think we were on our honeymoon Stephanie?"
"Well that's sorta complicated Daddy," I mumbled.
"This is just a problem with our hotel in Paris, right Stephanie?" Daddy asked, a touch of both anger and amusement in his voice.
"Well not exactly Daddy." Seeing a scowl spreading across his face, I sped on, "It just seemed like a good idea Daddy, so when I booked the other hotels, I thought, why not, we'll save money and some of them offered special extras for newlyweds and..."
"So we're man and wife in Paris, Barcelona, the Riviera, Rome, Athens, the Greek Islands, Istanbul honey?" he asked, the fingers of his free hand now back on the steering wheel and tapping it impatiently, or was it excitedly?
"Yes Daddy," I whispered, then added more confidently, "but remember you did give me full responsibility for booking the..."
He was quiet for minutes but I resisted the urge to break in, to explain, to apologize, knowing now it was up to him, that I had to wait, to let him decide, react.
"We haven't talked about.... I mean, you know, about what's happened between us,..." he finally started, his nervousness evident in his stammering, unsure voice. Getting no immediate response from me he went on, "I know you think honey,... since your birthday I mean,...that you've felt something different for me, for Daddy,... that maybe something..."
He kept taking quick glances at me as he spoke, clearly uncomfortable hoping I'd help him. "I know I should have said something before," he went on, "I've wanted to but ... if I've led you to believe that..... that maybe you thought my bodies reaction to you meant something it really didn't, shouldn't, couldn't sweetie... Oh shit, we're here," he swore in exasperation as we pulled into the drive fronting the hotel. "Lets not worry about it for tonight honey," he finally said, watching me as we idled, the porter already rushing towards our car, "we'll just book in and have dinner and then talk about it in the morning. But we do have to talk sweetie, you can't go on thinking we ..."
"Yes Daddy, I'm sorry about everything," I whispered, one tear sliding down my cheek.
~~~~~
"Ah Docteur, Madame James, bienvenue, welcome," was what greeted Daddy and I as we strolled hand-in-hand to the front desk. "We gave you our best suite.... No extra charge," the manager said after we had filled in the registration cards, a broad smile on his face, "We don't often get newlyweds."
"Merci beaucoup monsieur," I cooed as I leaned into Daddy and kissed him lightly on the lips. "We're so tired monsieur," I said turning to the manager, "We'd just like to shower and change and have dinner in our room. Can you have dinner sent up?"
"Certainement, Madame," his whole body signaling approval as his eyes hungrily roved over my young, ripe body, wishing it was he who was going to spend the night in my bed.
~~~~~
It turned out to be a stunning suite, the large bedroom with its king size bed and the large dining/living room both elegantly furnished in beautiful French period pieces, the balcony open to a vista that led our eyes to Notre Dame and the shimmering Seine beyond.
"Ta da," I finally announced smugly to Daddy, after we had both taken in the rooms, the view, the flowers, the fruit basket, the chocolates, the champagne cooling... "So now, what do you think of my little subterfuge my dear husband?" I asked as I danced around him, a broad grin on my face.
"Not bad Mrs. James," he finally conceded. "Now go and get your shower, our dinner will be here soon," he ordered smiling, giving me a gentle slap on my butt as I started towards the washroom.
"Would you like to share with me Daddy? I think I read they have a water shortage over here," I offered with a twinkle in my eyes,
"Go!" he ordered laughing, as he watched me pull my sweater over my head, and I knew his eyes were still on my bare back as I started towards the door, and dropping my little, black, silk demi-bra as I walked, I knew Daddy was imagining every jiggle of my round full tits.
~~~~~
"What are you so happy about young lady?" Daddy asked later when he finally emerged from the washroom and shower, his large body encased in the luxurious robe that came with the room.
"Nothing," I giggled as I stood up, my breasts jiggling under the thin, silk, ivory robe that was my only covering, a robe I'd bought just for tonight. God, he's handsome I thought as he moved confidently towards me, his six foot, two inch muscular body seeming to exude power and sexuality with each step.
"And dinner?" he asked but before I had a chance to respond we heard the light tapping on the door and Daddy pivoted and moved to answer it, and then let in an thin, elderly, uniformed bellboy, pushing a dish laden cart.
"Monsieur, Madame," he wheezed through smoke damaged lungs, but his eyes lit up when he saw me, when he saw what I was wearing. His eyes rushed to my cleavage, to the dark circles that showed through the thin silk, to the hem of my robe, only just covering my blond curls.
It took him stumbling minutes to unload the tray, to set the table, continually taking quick glances at me as he worked, finally pushed out of the room by Daddy, clutching the ten euros that had been offered him, the front of his pants bulging outward.
"You might have given the poor man a heart attack" Daddy laughed as he turned back towards me.
"Well at least some men find me attractive Daddy."
"You're wearing your pearls," he finally responded as we both sat at the table.
"You said they were for Paris Daddy," I said smiling, moving so that the top of the robe opened even wider, exposing the pearls as they dangled in the valley between my breasts. "Do you like them?" I asked.
"They're beautiful honey," he whispered, not even noticing the pearls as he drank me in.
We talked as we ate, the conversation surprisingly coming easily in spite of the sexual tension between us. We were both excited about the trip, about Paris, about the adventures that awaited us over the next ten weeks. Neither of us had ever visited Europe before and looked forward to visiting all the places we'd heard about all our lives. We were to visit the Louvre the next morning and eagerly discussed the treasures we'd soon see in person.
Finally the meal was over and as Daddy wheeled the cart and dishes out the door I plopped down on the sofa in the living room, one leg under me as I sat. I felt my robe open, and knew my full breasts were shamelessly exposed, but didn't care, the bottle of Chateau Rothschild we'd emptied with our meal had been just enough to lower my last remaining inhibitions with my father.