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When I was 20 I had become very depressed. I was just finishing my sophomore year at Wellesley College. I am the youngest of five children. I have two older sisters and two older brothers. My parents married young, had four children in relatively quick order and then eleven years later I came along. They were each one year apart, the oldest, Danny, was 14 when I was born and the youngest, Michael, was 11. Rachel was 13 and Gail was 12. My brothers and sisters called me the "whoops kid." Being the baby of the family had its advantages for a long time. Oh, my name is Faith. So for six years there was a built in baby sitter in our family. One of my brothers or sisters would watch out for me although it usually fell on Rachel and Gail. Danny was great. He liked to call me "the kid" and never called my Faith, he'd always say "hey kid" when he had something to say. He always said it in a nice way and he was super protective of me, not that I needed protection, but I always felt very safe with him. When Danny went off to college, Boston College, he was a "day student" so he lived at home until he was 22.
One day late in his senior year, I had just turned 8, Danny announced he was marrying his girlfriend Cheryl. I liked Cheryl a lot because she always played games with me and she knew what girls wanted unlike Danny. But what I didn't realize was that Danny would be moving out of the house when he got married. An 8 year old doesn't think of such things so when that day came I was crushed. Everyone told me they had talked about his moving with me but I don't remember them doing it. It was right after that I remember feeling depressed at the time. Of course I didn't know it was depression but just sadness.
Rachel was off in college by this time too but she was at Wellesley College where she lived so when Danny moved out it fell to Michael to watch out for me. I haven't forgotten about Gail. Gail and I didn't seem to get along. There isn't anything I can point to and say it was this but more that she always distanced herself from me and as I look back on it now I see that she suffered from what some call middle child syndrome. They're not the oldest and the one doted on for that reason or not the baby and doted on for that reason either. They kind of get lost in the shuffle. I liked Gail fine but we never got close.
Things started to go down hill late in my senior year in high school. Both Rachel and Gail had graduated from college, gotten married, and moved a fair distance away. Mikey, that's what I called him, had gotten into Harvard and graduated summa cum laude. Right after college he too moved out of the house but had gone only a mile away to a condo he'd bought. Mikey had had a string of girl friends, one was actually serious for a while, but no one he wanted to settle down with. He was finishing up graduate school, part time, while holding down a full time consulting job when I was graduating from high school.
I remember the day like it was yesterday. He came home and as soon as he came through the door he called out, "Hey kid, where are you?"
I was up in my room doing homework, well, supposedly, and came running down and jumped in his arms and gave him a big hug. After Danny when Mikey took over I had had kid dreams of marrying him. I loved him that much and still do.
"So what's up?" I asked.
"Nothing, just came by to see mom and day, they home yet?"
"Mom's here but dad's not." I was just then my mom appeared from another room.
"Oh hi darling, what brings you here?" Mom said to him.
"I need to talk to you and dad about something. When's he getting home?"
"The usual time., he should be here any time now." Mom said suspiciously. Mikey had a habit of stopping by when he needed his clothes ironed or money. "There's beer in the fridge if you want one dear."
"No thanks mom, I'll just hang out with the kid until he gets home." Mom looked at him suspiciously and left the room. I tried to weasel out of him what was so important but he wouldn't let on. We then talked about what I thought was his present girlfriend who turned out to be another reject.
"Hey, I still wanna marry Mikey if that's any help."
"Sure kid, let's set a date." This had become a running joke between us. Mom tried to get us to stop it right after I entered puberty saying such talk was inappropriate but I assured her I was just fooling around and it wasn't serious of course.
Dad arrived a few minutes later and Mikey herded us all into the living room. He got very serious and I remember thinking he'd done something bad like getting some girl pregnant. I don't remember how the conversation went as I went numb right after he told us he had just been told he had stage four cancer, lymphoma. I remember my mother first saying no and that it had to be a mistake and my father just sitting there saying nothing at all. Mom got hysterical and said all kinds of thing but mostly she said she wanted a second opinion. I remember Mikey saying that actually it would be a fourth or fifth opinion if we got one because he'd already done that.
Mom cried for a week and dad came home from work and got drunk. I knew dad had a drinking problem before that but it really took off with the news. Mikey barely lived three months more. A month after he told us the news he got the flu and never seemed to get over it. He moved back home and a month after I graduated from high school he died. A month after Mikey died mom committed suicide.
Daddy stopped drinking when mom died and joined one of the local 12 step programs. He never seemed weak to me, even during his worst drinking sprees. But once he got sober he seemed to suddenly get stronger. When I told him I couldn't go to Wellesley because I was too depressed he told me I didn't have a choice. I don't know if it's true but he told me that Mikey's last words to him were that he promise I went to Wellesley as planned. I didn't know what to do or say so I went.
We tried to celebrate Thanksgiving that year but it was a disaster. Danny, Gail and Rachel made excuses for why they couldn't make it so daddy took me to a posh restaurant in Boston for Thanksgiving. It was nice but it wasn't the same of course. Neither of us had a good time. That Christmas was more of the same although Danny did make it home for a few days but Gail and Rachel again made excuses.
One of the good things that year after mom and Mikey died was that I threw myself into my school work and was holding a 4.0 grade point at the end of my freshman year. Still, I had isolated at school and didn't have any friends there. I didn't think it bothered me at the time but mid-way through my first semester of my sophomore year my grades had taken a downward spiral. I found it increasingly difficult to turn in assignments and my class participation was nil. My advisor tried to get out of me what was wrong but I honestly didn't know. It never occurred to me that I was just severely depressed. I cried a lot when Mikey died but when mom killed herself I stopped crying and hadn't cried since. I just pushed everything down inside me as far as I could.
So it was Thanksgiving break again and I was at home alone, again, with daddy. "Honey, do you want to eat here or would you like to go back to that restaurant we went to last year?"
"I don't know daddy. I really don't want to do anything." I looked at him with what I'm certain was the most pitiful look anyone could give. I could tell by the look on his face that daddy desperately wanted to do something but he didn't know what and I really didn't want to talk about it.
Later that evening I went to daddy in the living room and said, "I'm going to bed now daddy." I went over and gave him our usual kiss.
"You know honey, we really should talk about what's bothering you." He said in his best concerned parent voice.
I couldn't hear the pain in his voice through the pain in my soul so I replied, "There's nothing wrong daddy. I'm just tired and school has me stressed out." I gave daddy the briefest of smiles and padded off to bed. I really wanted to avoid any further discussion.
Once in bed it didn't take long for me to fall asleep. I'm usually a very sound sleeper. Mom used to say that I could sleep though an atomic explosion. That was usually true but this night I woke up when I heard daddy's voice whispering to me. "I'm sorry honey, I'm sorry, I've failed you." I could hear him whimpering. It was then I realized his was lying on the bed behind me and stroking my hair as he said these things. I always liked it when anyone stroked my hair. Mikey used to do it to comfort me. I don't know why it worked but it always did and now that daddy was doing it I once again felt comforted. I thought I should say something to him but then I thought I might embarrass him because I'm sure he thought I was still asleep and that what he was saying was to his sleeping little girl.
I could feel the warmth of his body next to mine and it felt good. He didn't' say anything for a while but just continued to stroke my hair and I languished under his touch. I thought I'd just fall asleep again but then he spoke again saying, "Oh honey, I wish there was something I could do, something I could say that would make you feel better." I could hear him sniffle a little when he finished those words and that's when I felt so sorry for him but also I felt a combination of my love for him and his love for me. He was actually achieving what he wanted and I wanted to say something but I couldn't say anything.
Daddy's hand moved down from my hair to my face when I could feel him light trace his finger tips over my cheek. It felt good and when his fingers traced my lips it tickled and I almost started from the touch but his hand moved down over my chin and down my neck. That felt really good too and if my eyes weren't already closed I know I would have closed him under that touch it felt so nice.
"You're such a beautiful young lady." He said softly, "I really hope you know that and I really hope some guy sees all your beauty." I had never heard these words from him before but as I quickly reflected on them I realized that had I heard them I might not have believed him. Now I did. I just knew in my heart they were true.
Daddy's hand moved down from my neck and his seemed to light grasp my arm and caress it with his full hand. It felt really nice, like a massage and I love massages. But then he moved his hand to my stomach and touched me there. That's when the first bit of apprehension hit me about the way he was touching me. Still, it felt good and that combined with the sweet words he said to me seemed to keep me from saying anything or even alluding to the fact that I was actually not asleep at all as he thought. I have a two piece flannel nightie that I like to wear in cold weather and that's what I had on. He had slipped his hand underneath the top portion to rub my stomach. Still, there was something really soothing about this touch but then surprisingly there was something arousing to it as well. My mind raced and I assured myself that this was not appropriate thoughts to be having about my own father. He was being such a sweetheart in trying to comfort me and here I was having these horrible feelings.
Then daddy did something that almost made me flip over and show him I was awake. His hand slipped beneath the bottom of my nightie and his finger tips touch the very top of my pussy hair. Yet as if touching a flame he just as quickly retracted it and returned in to my stomach. He was rubbing my stomach in soft circles but then moved his hand upward. The first time his hand brushed against the bottom of my breasts I put it to being accidental but a moment later it touched there again and I knew it wasn't. My mind yelled at me to show him I was awake and stop what he was doing. I felt confused by what he was doing. He's my father and he shouldn't be touching me this way. It's wrong. But then I'd think how I'd allowed it to go on this long so I was asking myself if I had led him to believe it was all right. But then I told myself that that was dumb because I had been feigning sleep so he had no reason to believe I was allowing his touches. But just then his hand touch my breast again only this time he covered my breast with his hand. At first he didn't move it at all, just held it. But then after a few moments I felt him give it a gentle squeeze. Now this was hardly the first time a man a touched my breasts. I had allowed my dates do this much on many occasions. But he wasn't just some date, he is my father and shouldn't even be considering such things let alone doing them and yet I couldn't stop him. My emotions were suddenly running all over the place as were my thoughts.
Was there some part of me that wanted this to happen? I had certainly never before actively entertained such thoughts although I do remember many times thinking how handsome and sexy daddy was but I never let my thoughts go beyond that. But did that me I secretly had desires for him, secret even from me? Then I remember either hearing or reading somewhere that such thoughts were normal for a lot of girls and they always passed. But these thoughts weren't passing.
Then I felt daddy squeeze my breast. It was one quick soft squeeze follow but a long period of nothing. Then there was another, no so quick this time but equally as soft and I could also feel one of his fingers run over the top of my nipple. It was then I discovered my nipple had betrayed me and had become very hard. I remember thinking to myself, "You sick bitch. How can you allow such things?" His had moved from that breast and did the same thing all over again. I focused on what he was doing and found myself actually liking it. But then my mind screamed at me that I couldn't like it because it was just wrong, plain and simple. My mind flitted from that feeling to the sensuousness of his touch and how I was responding to that. I liked it and I liked it a lot. And as I began to accept that I really did like his touch I once again felt my love for him. There were so many feelings and emotions mixed up in all this it was impossible to know which to trust and believe. I knew the physical was winning the battle and I didn't feel like I had it in me to fight it and yet as soon as that thought went through my mind it also came to me that I really didn't want to fight it either.
It was then I started to relax, just a bit. But it was also then I could feel daddy's hard cock pressing against my ass. That was the first time I noticed it and yet I knew it must have been that way for at least a little while now didn't it? I didn't know but it too didn't feel bad. It felt wrong, yes, but not bad. The confusion was still there. I felt guilty pleasure and I felt good. I could see my bedside clock and noticed that this had been going on for almost half an hour. Daddy's hand was moving back and forth between my breasts, caressing them and very gently pinching my nipples. That's when I could feel the wetness between my legs totally betraying me. I felt a bit of relief that he didn't know because, well, because of course he'd be mad at me for that right?
Daddy's hand left my breasts, traveled down over my stomach and once again pushed down under the bottom of my nightie. This time, however, when his fingers reached my pussy hair he didn't stop until his finger tips ran right over the top of my pussy lips. He ran his hand up and down my pussy lips a couple of times very lightly. I had all I could do to hold back the moans I so desperately wanted to let go of now. But then as he pulled his finger back up my pussy lips his pushed one finger slightly inside me, very slightly but as he drew it up it also came into contact with my clit and just as soon as it ran over the top of my clit I let out a moan that seemed like an uncontrollable response.
Daddy drew back his hand quickly and said very softly, "Are you awake honey?"
Well, as they say, the gig was up so I rolled over and said, "Yes."
Well, with that out came this torrent of "I'm sorriys" and "oh my God what have it done?" from him. I struggled to find the right words but quite suddenly found myself saying, "It's all right daddy." I couldn't believe what I had just said. Of course it wasn't all right so why had I said it was? Something inside me said I should be really mad at him and rage on about it but I couldn't do it nor did I really want to.
"No honey, it's not all right, it's wrong. I've touched you in a very inappropriate way and I'm ashamed and sorry."
I could see and hear that his words were truthful and that he hurt. I didn't want him to hurt nor did I want to hurt so I reached out and pulled him into me and said, "I love you daddy." I was going to say a bunch of other stuff but that's all that would come out.
This seemed to calm daddy and he responded by saying, "I love you to honey. I should leave now."
I suddenly didn't want him to go. I just wanted to hold him and feel the warmth of his love next to me so I said, "Please don't go yet daddy."
"But honey . . . " he started.
"No daddy, don't go. I feel better right now that I've felt in a long time. For the first time since I don't know I don't feel depressed." I couldn't believe I'd just said I had been depressed and yet there was this sudden sense of relief at having said it.
"Oh honey, I'm so glad to hear that." And with that daddy hugged me about as hard as he ever had. But we were in such close contact I could feel his still hard cock pressing against me and God help me I felt a thrill run through me. Now I was thinking that I had been the reason for his arousal and suddenly it occurred to me that I was attractive, something I hadn't allowed myself to believe in a long time. We held each other like that for what seemed like forever but when we broke I looked into his eyes and found him looking directly into mine. I smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Neither of us moved but then he kissed me only this time there was no way it could be confused as a fatherly kiss of a daughter. The kiss at first was just a tiny bit wet but then I felt his tongue press again my lips so I parted my lips and invited him in. He took the invitation and our lust took over. Suddenly his hands were all over my body and I relished his touch. First he clutched at my breasts and then clutched at my ass pulling me inward to him. His cock was hard against my thighs. Then they returned to my chest only this time to unbutton the top half of my nightie and push it from my shoulders. I accommodated him and pulled it the rest of the was off. He stared at my breasts and wallowed beneath his eyes. My breasts aren't big, C cups, but the are full and firm. At first he seemed in a bit of a trance and then he reached out with both hands and touched them. I shivered beneath his touch and moaned. Even the moan felt good now. I remember thinking to my self wondering what I was getting myself into and just as quickly thinking I really didn't care.
I then reached down between us and grasped his rock hard penis. Now that was a first for me. When guys had tried to get me to do it for them I had always told them no that it would lead to something else and I was saving myself for marriage. They always pouted a lot but I always held firm. Now I didn't care. What had changed I wondered. But daddy responded by quickly pulling away as if I had hurt him although I knew I hadn't. "We can't do this honey," he said dead serious, "this will go somewhere neither of us wants."
Acting a bit coy but also a bit unsure I asked, "Where daddy?"
"We can't have intercourse, that's incest and that's just so wrong." I could see him setting himself and finding his resolve.
I really didn't know how to respond to that so I said, "Okay, but will you touch my breasts again, please." I asked in my little girl way, the way I knew he never seemed to be able to refuse and this time he didn't either. I'm sure he felt that since we had already been doing this what was the harm in a little more.
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