Something about Daddy had always turned me on in a way that it shouldn’t. Perhaps it was because he had been so instrumental in my life or maybe it was because I always saw the way my mother treated him and felt he deserved better. Whatever had caused it, it had been around since as long as I could remember. It was something I had felt wrong about for a long time. Here was a man who had come into Mom’s life and accepted me as his own daughter and I
fetishized him.
I had gotten over that though, and the idea that I once had that anything would come of it. He had decided, for whatever reason, to stay with Mom and it was silly for me to think that he would cross that line with me. Not only that, it was stupid to think that I would actually act on
it if given the opportunity.
“What do you say, old man?” I asked. “Want me to pretend to be your hot young wife?”
“Stop,” he said, smiling at me. “We can go together as long as I don’t have to hear these jokes
the whole time.
“Oh, you know I’m not stopping Daddy,” I said, grinning widely at him.
The rest of the week flew by. Like I had suspected, I had no problem getting people to fill in my waitressing shift. Most of the staff was heading back to college after the summer and had been thirsty to pick up some extra tips before they were back to their full course load Daddy had given me his credit card for a shopping spree at the mall to buy a bathing suit and other necessities for the trip. I guess he figured that Mom would have been putting money on it for the trip if she had been going and he didn’t want me using any of the money I ha
saved
Begs the Man of the House
If Mom had any issues with me going in her stead, she could have fooled me. She was apparently negotiating the details of some big corporate merger and couldn’t be bothered to think about anything but work all week. The mood around the house had been pretty solemn throughout the week. It was only as we were packing the car up to leave early Friday morning that she expressed any frustration with not being able to go on the trip.
Daddy and I did our best to entertain ourselves through the four–hour flight from New York to
the Caribbean. After a while, I decided that I would get some shut–eye. It was going to be a busy weekend, after all. I put my headphones on and nodded to sleep. But what sleep I did get
wasn’t restful in the least.
If I needed to describe the dreams I had been having all week long it would be “vivid.” For some reason, this whole vacation had relit the fire that I had spent the last few years trying to extinguish. The one that had lead to a young teenaged version of me’s obsession with my step- father. Suddenly, at the thought of playing his wife for the weekend, all of my fantasies had seemingly come back from the graves of my adolescence.
In the dream I had when I dozed off on the plane next to Daddy, I was floating above the body of a woman who laid utterly naked on an altar of stone.
Within moments I recognized the curves of her body and the angles of her face. I saw myself! I gasped as I watched my chest steadily rise and fall with my breath from my disembodied third person perspective.
Multiple footsteps signaled the arrival of an entourage of muscular tanned–skinned men. They
stood around me, their hands resting on the stone altar and their eyes on my bod
paths along it at first, bo
I watched as they began to run their strong hands over my body. Just their fingertips traced
soon their whole hands were moving across every inch of my body. Even though I was merely a disembodied viewer of the erotic scene, I could feel them. Each hand slowly explored my sensitive skin, slowly tracing its way closer and closer to my most sensitive areas as if in unison.
