The Date_(3)

I had a date with my daughter. A real date, with Broadway Show tickets and dinner reservations at Raoul’s, one of the finest restaurants in the City. It was her birthday and I wanted it to be special for her. She was on the cusp of adulthood so I was determined to treat her like an adult woman; to give her a night on the town she would cherish for the rest of her life.

As Zina was growing up, I was often gone for weeks at a time. My job as a worldwide reporter kept me moving from city to city, country to country. I’ve been to some of the most exotic places on the planet, but I’ve also had to endure some of the most down trodden and destitute. While I was often globetrotting, my family sat in the suburbs of New York and struggled to exist without me. My wife finally gave up waiting up nights for a call and started accepting calls from men who were not 11000 miles away. We had been amicably divorced three years. My daughter was more patient, she was always happy to talk to me and coming home to her was the ultimate joy in my life. She didn’t hesitate to bring me up to date on school, friends and her life in general. Even though we were often continents apart, my girl and I were always very close. And that is why, on her birthday, I extracted myself from a tribal war in Africa to be home. I was going to make her Eighteenth birthday very special.

“I’m coming” she called out as she stepped to the top of the stairs. I was standing at the bottom looking up, entranced by the young woman descending from the second floor. She was wearing a black figure-hugging spaghetti strap midi-dress. The hem of the skirt cut across her legs at a modest mid-thigh, the curves and contours of her legs below the skirt jolted my eyes, the form of her upper thighs under the thin black material magnetized my male attention. My gaze drifted up her legs to follow the curve of her hips, over the swell of her ass to a waist I could span with one hand. The top of the lace dress cut evenly across her breasts; it revealed no cleavage but that wasn’t necessary. Her breasts stood fully without the assistance of a bra; the dress held them firmly. There was a single thin strap holding the dress in place but it didn’t go up and over her shoulders on each side. The strap attached to the sides of the dress at the bust line then crossed from left to right, right to left. It formed a wide X above her breasts then looped around her neck, which would mean her back was bare of any material above the top of the dress.

I tore my eyes off my daughter’s body to look at the rest of her. She wore sheer nylons and black stiletto heels about three inches high. The open toed shoes were fastened to her feet with Hellenistic style leather straps forming Xs on each side of her ankles. Bright red nail polish highlighted her feet, it matched the color of her fingernails. Along with the dress strap around her neck, she had a light gold chain from which hung a charm shaped as a butterfly. The stairs were dimly lit so I got only a hint of the makeup she wore, but her lips looked to be the same hue as her nails. Long dark hair split over her right shoulder and fell to even with her navel. Golden hoop earrings completed my daughter’s evening wear. In the few seconds it took me to appraise my date for the night, she stepped to the bottom of the stairs, “I’m ready.”

My god the girl was beautiful, and she was right, she was ready. For anything. My duty as a father should have been to reject how she looked, how she would affect men and boys of any age. I stood looking at Zina and wondered briefly if I should change the date, just stay home, keep her out of sight. She is just over 5’9, and in the heels she was eye level with me, she put her hand on my arm and asked, “Are we going dad?”

“Not yet, I have something for you.” I pulled a polished wooden jewelry box with a gold leaf ‘Z’ on the lid from my pocket and handed it to her. She smiled with delight and opened the box to find a one-inch circle of gold surrounding the letter Z. I had the charm and box made by a goldsmith in Marrakech, specifically for Zina.

She pulled the trinket from the box, it was attached to a golden chain, “A necklace? My initial? Oh dad, it’s beautiful, I love it. Put it on me please.” She turned her back to me.

Zina lifted her hair and bent her head to give me access to put the new chain around her neck. I unlatched the necklace she wore and handed it to her mother who was standing near watching us, then hung the new one and fastened it. As my fingers brushed her neck, I saw a light eruption of goosebumps on her skin. Necklace in place, my daughter spun, put her arms around me and hugged me briefly then kissed my cheek. She went to a hall mirror and checked her image, “This looks much better with the earrings,” she gushed, “a better match.” She turned to me, “It’s beautiful.”

I said good night to my ex who was smiling with pride with how she had raised and groomed the alluring teen girl. As I followed Zina to the car, I wondered if I should compliment how she looked, or keep my mouth shut. For the first time in my life the words ‘sexy’ and ‘daughter’ formed a single phrase and I didn’t want to tell her what I actually thought. Since this was a special night, her special night, I rented a limo with driver. He opened the door for Zina, she flashed him a thank you smile then turned to me, “Wow, you really did it up tonight; a car and driver?”

“I don’t have to drive into the city, we can talk without my cussing out the traffic.”

Zina chirped a quick laugh, “Great, we have a lot to talk about. I want to tell you what I want to do when I graduate next month.” That reminded me that my daughter was close to finishing high school. At the tender age of seventeen she became a senior, and was recently accepted to a highly regarded Ivy League university based on her academic skills.

My daughter and I talked on the ride into the city. I told her of my current assignment, the conditions of the land and people, I was silently glad she didn’t have to suffer the same fate as the girls her age in the tribe, she would have been a mother three or four times over already, likely with different men, none a husband. She updated me on her last few weeks of school and plans for the summer. She and her mother were going on a summer long road trip to several national parks.

I had tickets for the musical Phantom of the Opera. Zina had the music on her iPhone but had never seen the show. She didn’t know where we were going and managed to keep her curiosity at bay. I could tell she wanted to know but I kept it secret until we pulled up in front of the theater. Zina looked up at the marquee and squealed her glee, threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek, “Really, Phantom of the Opera?? I love it!” What I loved just at the moment was the crush of her breasts on my chest, the scent of her perfume. It was a momentary sensation, a pure masculine moment, then I reverted to dad again. I stood by the open door of the car and offered Zina my hand. When she turned to get out, her legs parted, the skirt rode high on her thighs, I caught a glimpse of pale thighs above the top of her hosiery, and black satin panties. Not only did my eyes get a treat, I felt my nuts shiver. Again, forbidden thoughts surged to the forefront of my mind. I was slowly succumbing to the charms of the young woman.

Zina waited near the theater entrance while I spoke with the driver. I hadn’t thought of it earlier, but seeing my daughter as a young woman spurred another thought, if I was going to treat her as a woman, not my child, we should toast her birthday. I slipped the driver enough cash to buy a bottle of Champaign to have in the car when we returned from the show. My thoughts were not salacious, but another acknowledgment to her coming of age. At least that is the justification I offered myself.

We were early, my daughter had time to wander the lobby and view the magnificent architecture of the Majestic. As she stood before a display of masks and props for the show I went to the concession and got two goblets of wine. When I handed her one, she flustered quickly, glanced around then said “Wine? Really? What if someone sees?”

I smiled down on her, “Don’t worry about it, tonight you look a lot more mature than eighteen, no one is going to question you having a drink. You have had wine before, haven’t you?” I was pretty sure her mother let her sip wine at home once in a while.

Zina blushed slightly and admitted, “Yeah, mom and me sit at the fireplace at night sometimes and drink wine. That’s when we have our best mom and daughter conversations.” She looked up sharply, “But not on school nights.” As an afterthought she added, “I look more mature?”

“Full grown. Right now, Zina, you could decorate the arm of any man in this theater and no one would suspect you are less than twenty-one.”

She gave me a delightful smile then leaned to me, kissed my cheek and said so no one else could hear, “You are the only man I want to decorate tonight; I love you dad.” Her whisper soft breath on my ear sent another involuntary shiver through my nuts. Zina stepped back then giggled lightly, “Oops, sorry,” then wiped a smear of red gloss off my cheek with her finger.

She sat captivated during the first half of the show. When intermission was called, I led her back to the bar for another glass of wine. Zina bubbled with enthusiasm about the orchestra, performers and the songs. She finished her wine then asked for another, to take back for the second half. I was hesitant at first but gave in when she locked her big green eyes on mine and assured me, “It’s okay dad, I can handle it.”

The second half of the opera passed in a blur for me. My focus wasn’t on Christine or the Phantom, my focus kept being diverted by my daughter’s legs. The midi-dress was riding high on her thighs, near the junction of her legs. She was animated as she followed the plot, every time she moved, her legs attracted me. The top edge of her sheer stockings was revealed by the skirt inching high, occasionally I got a peek of smooth, bare skin. I felt slimy watching her, but I couldn’t resist. The man within the father was growing more and more aware of the alluring young female sitting near him. I began to fantasize that Zina had chosen her clothing and makeup to entice me, rather than accompany me. I began to see my daughter as if she were a real date, not out for birthday celebration. My thoughts shamed me, but my cock has no conscience, it was beginning to react to her as a woman, not as my child.

Standing in the lobby of the theater after the show Zina was agitated with joy, “Now what dad, what are you going to do with me now?”

Her choice of words encouraged another quick fantasy as I replied, “Dinner, I hope you like Raoul’s, it is supposed to be good.”

Her eyes sparkled, she smiled, licked her upper lip and said “We could go to Burger King and if you are with me, it would be perfect.”

“I don’t like Burger King; their fries are too bland.”

“Then you better take me somewhere nice” she said before leading me to the waiting car. My eyes were locked on her back, she was taking long strides on the high heels which caused her hips to rock provocatively with each step; my prick took a deep breath, she definitely wasn’t a girl anymore. In the car Zina refreshed her lip gloss and eyes in a mirror, capped the makeup then turned to me, “Dad, this has been a fantastic night so far, it must be costing you a fortune.”

I watched her lips as she spoke and had to fight down an urge to kiss the words from them. I answered, “When I’m on the job I travel all over the world, all my expenses are paid, plus I get per diem and often hazardous job pay. I still get my regular salary but almost never touch it, I don’t need to. The last time I spent a heap of money is when I bought my house in New Haven. Don’t worry about what I spend for you or on you, this is your night Zina, enjoy it.” My daughter gave me a dazzling smile, graced the corner of my mouth with her fresh glossed lips, then leaned back on the seat of the car and took my left hand in hers. She pulled it until it was lying on her thigh, her hand covered mine, holding me like that she closed her eyes. The palm of my hand was covering the hem of the dress, my fingers were lying on the nylon sheathed leg. The carnal interest in my daughter that had been slowly growing through the evening broke free of weakened moral restraints and warmed my balls. My cock began to gain some serious weight. I was self-conscious of where my hand was and what my nuts were telling me, so I tried to move my hand from Zina’s leg but her fingers tightened slightly, keeping me in place. The silent invitation to keep my hand on her encouraged me to lightly stroke her with the tip of my fingers. She either didn’t feel my caress, or she liked the caress; either way, she remained quiet with her eyes closed.

At the restaurant I was again treated to the same view I got at the theater, only the second time it seemed to take her a bit longer to emerge from the car, giving me two extra moments of bare thigh and black panties. As I held her hand she looked directly into my eyes and smiled, not a daughter smile, but the intimate smile of a woman for a man she is attracted to. The rush of blood to my head made me dizzy and that time I was not at all shamed by the thoughts that stampeded through my mind.

I ordered wine, the sommelier did not hesitate or question my daughter’s age. As she was sipping the predinner wine we talked about the show then the conversation moved through her future at the University then turned to my job. It was a normal conversation without intimacy or hidden meaning. We sipped wine for the entire two hours we enjoyed the long, superb dinner. As we left the restaurant Zina wrapped both hands around my arm and rested her head on my shoulder as we walked to the car. Her hair was brushing my cheek, her nearness was creating havoc in my briefs. It was near midnight and I could tell the long evening had taken a toll on Zina, she was tiring from the excitement and several glasses of wine. It was time to take her home.

When I was telling Zina’s mother about the arrangements for her birthday night, my ex suggested I take her to New Haven, to my place after the theater and dinner. Zina could stay the weekend. Since my daughter stayed at my house often when I was between assignments, she had her own room, so the suggestion was neither unusual nor improper. Since the limo driver knew where we needed to go, he set off for the ninety-minute drive. I opened the door of the in-car cooler and pulled out the champagne, “Want a night cap?” I asked my daughter. She examined the label while I found two flutes then we opened the bottle and toasted her birthday once more.

When her glass was empty, she asked me to pour another then did something unexpected, she moved to the front of the passenger compartment and slid the viewing window closed. The smoked glass blocked the drivers view of the back of the car. Zina turned to face me on the opposite seat, took her glass and tilted it as a salute and sipped. Facing me like that, the short dress revealed most of her long shapely legs, the top of the sheer stockings clung to her well below the hem of the dress, the shadow between her legs barely concealed the top of her thighs. My cock warmed and swelled. Goddamm it was getting hot, the compartment was shrinking, becoming too cozy. I needed to cool off, to put some space between me and the girl. I leaned back into the corner of my seat and averted my eyes. It didn’t work. Zina moved from her seat and sat next to me then said “Daddy, this has been almost the most perfect date I’ve ever been on,” she paused, looked me in the eyes, she sounded nervous when she said “but I want it to be exactly perfect, can I have one more present?”

“What’s that sweetheart, what do you want?”

She didn’t say a word as her hands went to my waist, to my belt. In less time it took for the shock of what she was doing to consume me, my daughter was tugging my zipper down. It was an automatic reflex to grab her hand and pull it away from my pants. Zina shook me off, slapped my fingers lightly the went back to work on my zipper while seducing me with her eyes. She opened my pants then arched off the seat and pulled her panties down and off her legs. Zina rose up, threw her right leg over my thighs then settled down on me. I was looking at her strapless back as she rocked her hips, my half-swollen cock swelled rapidly to become an erection. I lifted her by the waist so my cock could stand then lowered her slowly. As I penetrated her, Zina sighed out a long breath, looked over her shoulder, swept her long hair from her face and offered softly, “This is what I want.”

She was wet, she was ready, and I pushed up into her easily. She didn’t cry out; she didn’t resist me so I assumed this wasn’t the first time she’d been fucked. I did not disapprove, I was relieved I didn’t hurt her, that she knew what she wanted and how to get it. All the misgivings I’d been having about my thoughts for her all night vanished in the time it took me to thrust into her. We started the date as daddy and daughter but we were ending it as man and woman. I held Zina’s waist then she and I ventured into a new dimension of our relationship.

She was unbelievably hot, I felt like I’d put my erection in an oven but the oven was wet, tender, thrilling. Zina rolled her hips, sliding on me while I reclined on the seat watching her back. I lifted the dress and watched her butt cheeks moving and my cock swelled even further. I put a hand around her waist, over her leg then searched for the button at the top of her slit. When I felt the bump, I pressed on it, causing her to yip softly. From then on I rubbed her clit while her passion built until she began to spasm. Zina gasped and shivered for several moments then slowly stopped moving. She lifted off my lap, turned to lie across my legs and put her arms around my neck, her tits flattened on my chest, “I love you daddy, please don’t hate me.”

“Hate you, for what we just did? Never sweetheart, I won’t even hate myself.”

She pulled her head back, looked me directly in the eyes, judging my reaction to her then grinned, “I didn’t even kiss you before we did that.” She put her bright red glossed mouth on mine and started a fire with her lips. She broke the kiss then pushed up and looked down on my still hard erection. She put a finger tip on the end of it, bent it down slightly then smiled when it bounced back after she moved the finger. Zina said “We should put that away before we get home.”

It was passion and lust that cause me to ask, “Is that it, are you done with it, with me?”

My daughter chirped a quick giggle, “No way, that was just a tease dad, my birthday weekend won’t be over until Sunday night.” She pecked me softly on the lips again then went to work, forcing my hard cock back into my pants. She laughed lightly as my erection resisted her efforts to stuff it back where it belonged. Once she was done tucking me away, she pulled a tissue from her clutch and wiped the lipstick off my face.

It was near 2am when we got to the house. The driver bid us goodnight then left; his job was done. Zina and I went into the house, she led me directly to my bedroom. While she went into the adjoining bathroom, I pulled off my clothes and put on a night robe. My cock was anticipating the coming night so it was strong, tall and proud, making a big tent in the front of the robe. My daughter came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel from breasts to thighs, she was chuckling, “What?” I asked.

“I forgot my panties in the car, the driver is going to get a shock when he cleans it tomorrow.”

“I doubt it, I’m pretty sure that car has been used as bedroom before.”

“But he knows you’re my father, what might he think?”

I pulled Zina to my arms, wrapped her ass with my hands and pulled her against the evidence of my lust. She ground her groin on my erection, put her hands around my neck and her mouth over mine. When we broke apart to breathe, I said to her, “He’ll think I’m the luckiest fucking father in the world.”

“He might tell someone.”

“Sweetheart, if he did, he could lose the trust of a lot of clients. A comment on Facebook about his loose talk would kill his business. He won’t say anything.” Zina smiled then let me lead her to bed. I pulled her towel off, shrugged my robe from my shoulders then my daughter and I stepped back to look at the other. I thought when I saw her coming down the stairs was the highlight of my evening, but I was wrong. The eighteen-year-old woman standing in front of me in nature’s glory caused my blood to boil, my heart was tripping, my erection thudded with desire. I put my hands on her cheeks then slid them down to her shoulders and urged her to turn away. When her back was to me, I pressed on her so she bent over the bed. She went to her stomach, her feet were on the floor, I stepped to her then slid my cock between her legs and in. Zina gurgled a low moan then my daughter and I started an intense, all night birthday celebration. I screwed her a couple of minutes then withdrew and we got onto the bed. Before I slipped into her again, I had to ask, “Do I need to be careful, I have some condoms?”

“Not tonight dad, I should be okay but, just to be double sure, I brought a morning after pill.” It was then I realized that my daughter had been seducing me from the moment she came down the stairs. My cock grew even more, my lust triumphed over any residual feelings of fatherhood as Zina and I melded into one sexual creature; loving, lusting, giving, and taking.

Even though I was as hot as a teenager to screw my daughter, I knew I couldn’t climax in a couple of minutes. I was driven by a need to love the girl until she couldn’t take anymore. I was her daddy, I’d been her hero her entire life, I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t change those thoughts and feelings by being a fast, lousy fuck.

My cock was sheathed in the steaming wet tunnel of her body, my balls slapping her butt as we coupled. She was twisting and undulating under me, clutching my sides with both hands, mewing when my cock slid across her clit. She moved her hands to clutch the pillow her head was on, her long glossy brown hair spread across the pillow looked like angel’s wings over her shoulders, framing her head and face. We surrendered to the demands of nature, coupling passionately in the dark closeness of the room. We mated with abandon, taking all we could from the other. She was heaving and bending, offering me her body and I was thrusting and probing, taking her to higher and higher levels of need and rapture. All of a sudden Zina went stiff as a board, her eyes flew open and she drew in a long hoarse breath. Her eyes focused on mine briefly then they glazed over as the orgasm exploded in her womb, fragmenting into a million glowing flares of ecstasy that set off intense blazes everywhere they landed. She was consumed by the fires raging inside her.

I looked down on the pulsing young woman beneath me and my balls gave up the fight. My cock swelled even harder then began to convulse as I injected shots of lava hot semen into the beautiful young woman. I flooded her with cum as she slammed her hips against my groin, her body absorbing all I had to give.

I was covered with sweat, unable to hold myself up so I collapsed to the mattress beside her and fought for every breath I could get. She twisted her head to me, her hair was matted and damp, her face flushed hot, her breasts rising and falling as she gulped for fresh air, “Oh my god dad, I never had sex that hot before!” We lay side by side, I watched golden Z shifting on her skin as her breasts shook. She shivered with an aftershock sexual convulsion, rolled her head to me then asked, “Do you hate me yet?”

She smiled with satisfaction when I answered, “Not yet, maybe if I fuck you again.”

“No maybes dad, you will fuck me again, and again after that if we manage to stay awake that long.” My daughter screwed me once more that night, the sun was rising when she and I crashed into an exhausted sleep.

The trill of Zina’s phone woke us in the early afternoon, her mother was calling. While she was telling her mom about the night on the town, I went to piss then came back to bed with her. As she and her mother talked my cock again reacted to the fresh young female and stiffened. I pushed her to her side, probed between her legs and started slow fucking her while she talked. Zina lifted her leg over my thigh and let me enjoy her until the call ended. She clicked off the phone, pulled off me, turned over and said “Save it for later, we have to get up.” She sat up, kissed the end of my erection then got off the bed. We got up, cleaned up and made ready for the day.

We were sitting on a bench at the marina watching sea birds and boats. Until that moment neither of us had brought up the subject of sex, of what happened the night before, but I was curious, why did my daughter so blatantly seduce me? And she did, her choice of dress, the provocative moves and gestures, the subtle flirting while we talked all combined into a night of covert, sensual baiting. In hindsight it was clear my daughter wanted me to take her to bed and fuck her. Why? I turned to her on the bench, “What was last night about?”

Zina flushed slightly, averted her eyes for a second then turned them back to me, “I wanted you to make love to me daddy. Sometimes when you are gone, I miss you so much it hurts my heart and in the last couple of years I would make up stories of how you would race to my rescue and save me from missing you. At first it was just pretending things like going to parks or to the beach and spending all your time with me. When you did come home, we did everything I wanted, you took me everywhere, we did everything as daddy and daughter. You did rescue me from missing you, my heart didn’t hurt when you were home. I think I loved it most when we went to Cannon Park and ate ice cream, it was just us, nobody else existed then.

“Then about a year ago mom and I were sitting in front of the fireplace drinking wine, you guys had been divorced two years already, but I could tell she missed you too. I mean she dates once in a while but she never talks about other men, she talks about you. About the early days when you were dating, the times before you got this job, how it was a struggle to pay bills, how the three of us were so tight, so together. She was happy in those days. When you got this job and started traveling, she missed you, I missed you too, but we missed you in different ways. I missed my daddy; she missed her lover. She told me one night after two bottles of wine that she missed fucking you. Mom started talking about you and her in bed and I was kind of embarrassed at first, I was sixteen and sex for me was still something we girls only whispered about in our bedrooms. That first night we talked like that, she told me about dating and fucking you in your car. At first, I was kind of embarrassed to hear about how you two screwed, but by the time we went to bed I was hooked, I wanted to hear more.”

“Your mother misses me, missed me?”

Zina smiled slightly, “Yeah dad, she still does.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer her so I encouraged her to talk, “After that?”

“After that it was like she had turned on a switch, we would have some wine then mom would start more stories of when and how you made love. I think it was her way of not missing you so much. I was laughing tears the night she told me about the first time she let you. She said she was mortified and wanted you to take her home so she could change her clothes.”

“Why would she want to change close if she was going to have sex with me?”

“She told me she was wearing full bodied white cotton panties with pink and blue elephants printed on them. She was so scared you would look at them and laugh at her. Mom said the next day she threw away almost all her underwear and bought new ones. God it was funny the way she told it.”

I thought about that night, it certainly wasn’t the pattern of her panties I was concentrating on, “I never noticed” I said.

Zina giggled lightly then continued, “The first time I felt an interest in you as a man was when she was telling me how she damn near raped you every night for weeks until she got pregnant with me. I had pictures in my head of your erection cuming in mom and got cramps in my stomach. Not bad cramps, they were pure sexual, they felt good. That was the first time I wondered how it would feel if you did that with me. After that, when we talked, her stories got more erotic, she would tell me how you fucked her, how she fucked you.” Zina paused to look over the bay, took a refreshing breath then finished, “Over the next few months mom told me everything; about regular sex, oral sex, and the kinky stuff you used to do for fourteen years, until the divorce. In spite of me being your daughter, she didn’t hold back any secrets or details. I think it’s her way of not letting you go; she misses you dad; she misses you in bed.”

This was all news to me, “So how did conversations with your mother turn into last night?”

“I started fantasizing that I was mom, that you and me were married and screwing our asses off. I still hadn’t been with any guy, but in my mind, we were busy as hell. I spent a lot of nights with my fingers in me, imagining they were your fingers. I think it was you in my head when I started having sex with Seth. He and me did it for a couple of months then I dumped him and started going to bed with Ricky. Ricky reminded me of you, he looked like you, he is about the same size. Even his voice was you. I fucked him a lot because it was you, not him, with me.” Zina put her hand on my arm, “I have to pee and this bench is getting hard on my butt, let’s go home.” The enlightening conversation was done, for the moment.

After dinner that evening, she and I poured glasses of Southern Comfort then started the next round of love and incest. “When did you know you wanted me for real?”

Zina sipped her drink, looked into my eyes for a few seconds, “When you told me you were coming home for my birthday. I had a flash vision of hugging you at the airport and felt a wild thrill in my stomach. A 100% pure sexual thrill. Mom had told me how she would welcome you home before, and when I felt the rush, I knew that was how I wanted to welcome you back too. From that night on dad, you were my prince coming to wake me with a kiss, not my daddy. You told me you wanted to make my birthday special, well I knew how special I wanted it to be. I started seducing you that day.” My daughter got off the sofa and went to the fireplace. As she bent to put wood on the embers, I watched her. She was wearing skin tight stone washed, faded jeans, a soft red cashmere pullover and 2” pumps. She was even more alluring than the night before in the midi-dress. My prick began to anticipate the body beneath the clothing. Having restocked the fire, she came back then straddled my legs and sat on my knees, facing me. She put her glass on the end table, took mine from me, set it aside then hooked her hands over my shoulders. Zina and I shared a few quiet moments then she leaned to me and put her lips on mine. The tip of her tongue fenced lightly with mine for few seconds then she pulled back, “I think mom knows what I was planning.”

A shiver of angst ran up my spine, “What do you mean, she knows?”

“I think she knows, or suspects. She went with me when I bought the dress and shoes and when I was looking at lingerie she asked, ‘Why are you being so choosy about panties, you going to let your father see them?’

I had to deny her, “Oh mom, get real, I just want everything to be new, new dress, new shoes, new underwear.”

“You know girl, you’ve been acting like you’re going out with a lover, not your father. You’ve been in the clouds for days, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re going to seduce him.”

“I had to protest, ‘Mom, he’s my dad, we are celebrating my birthday, not our wedding.”

“She countered with, ‘Zina, I don’t know for sure what’s in your head right now, but I’m pretty sure of what you’re feeling. I felt the same way for years, every time he came home from a long trip.’ I didn’t rebuff her, my denial got stuck in my mouth so I turned and walked away, acting like she’d insulted me. Mom didn’t say anything more, but I’m pretty sure she knows, she can read me like a large print book sometimes.” My daughter leaned to me, her breasts were resting on my chest, her arms around my neck. I kissed the skin of her shoulder and slipped my hands under her sweater and unlatched her bra. I moved my hand around to cup a breast then pinched the nipple in my fingers. Zina sipped a light breath and put her mouth on mine again. When I broke the kiss she mused, “Maybe she is jealous that I am with you and she isn’t.”

“She didn’t act jealous last night, she looked proud of you. You really think she would want to get back under blankets with me again?”

Zina smiled, “Definitely, she’d fall over for you on the spot if you just puffed a light air kiss at her.”

“And you, you wouldn’t be jealous?”

“Daaaad! You’re not my husband. She’s my mother, you screwed her to conceive me, that alone gives her more rights to your body.”

“Exclusive rights?”

She chirped a quick laugh, “Not tonight.” I stood from the couch, picked up my daughter then carried her to the bedroom.

I set her on the floor where we began grabbing and pulling off cloths, undressing to cool the fever of passion. Zina pulled me to bed, I laid across her body then she pulled my head to her breasts. I suckled her breasts as she gripped my hair. I caught a nipple between my teeth and flicked my tongue rapidly across it. She quivered under my mouth then urged me off her tits and placed her lips over mine. Zina flexed her sweet tasting tongue, tickling the tip of mine as her arms enveloped me, firm young breasts crushed between us. My hands were busy roaming over her body, head, neck, and back. I paid special attention to her legs, caressing them from knee to ass. I was awed by the smooth firmness of her skin, by the heat radiating from her.

I needed to taste her, I needed to consume the passion flowing from her so I moved down, between her legs and frenched kissed the top of her body crack. Zina exhaled a groan, bent her knees high then put her fingers in my hair. She gripped and tugged on my hair while I brought her to a first climax with my tongue on her clit. I rolled to my back and pulled her over me, she was lying on my legs, stomach and chest, she locked her lips on my mouth. My granite hard cock lifted against her smoldering crack as I pulled her thighs apart for access to my daughter's throbbing young body. She stopped sucking my mouth and pushed up, lifted her hips off me and let me slip into her again. She was soaked with desire so my penetration was swift and thrilling. I humped, she gasped, and together we began a total annihilation of the father / daughter kinship.

I fucked her longer than thirty minutes, under her, over her, behind her then we would pause for a taste of the other, my head between her legs, her month keeping me hard; Zina shook several times with orgasms. For the finale of the act I rolled her to her back, pushed up on my arms until my erection was the only connection to her; she watched as it plunged in and out of her cunt. The sight and feel of her father’s cock and balls between her legs set fire to my daughter, she burst into flames from the heat. The final climax ripped from her clit and caromed through her, bouncing endlessly as she tried to breathe. I responded and came with her in a long series of explosive contractions. She stared into my eyes as I groaned out her name then collapsed onto her.

We were covered with sweat, panting for cool air. The pillows had been knocked to the floor, the sheets a crumpled pile under their entwined legs. “Oh my god dad, I never knew I could feel like this. I just got awesomely fucked, even better than last night” she smiled sexily in the dim light. My daughter and I cuddled and talked quietly while coming down from the intense sexual high. Her body was sated for the moment, I was slowly recharging for her.

Zina went to the bathroom to clean up while I went to the kitchen for iced tea. She met me there then we went to the front porch of the house, we were wearing robes, nothing else. She and I sat under the canopy of stars and talked more about her future, and her mother. Even though I agreed to the divorce, I didn’t want the divorce, I did it because I didn’t want my wife to suffer my absences alone. I couldn’t be there for her so I let her go. “You know that my job as overseas correspondent is almost done, I’ve been promoted to the New York office, I won’t be traveling near as much after next month, “Should I start dating her again” I wanted to know?

“Daddy, that would be so cool, I don’t like that you two are separated, I love you both so much, it would be awesome to be a family again.”

“You’re moving on Zina, you’re off to college and after that you will likely find your own path, I can’t see us as a tight family unit again.”

“I know that dad, but when I come back for Christmas or birthdays it would be nice to be in one home, not two. You should ask mom out, she’s ready.”

“How would that be Zina, me dating your mother again after what we’ve just done, could you sit with us at Christmas and not feel perverted or envy her?”

My daughter looked at me, serious, “Dad, this is my weekend, my birthday gift to myself. I’m pretty sure mom knows what I’m doing, but I’m also sure she hasn’t protested or warned me off because in one way, I’m her proxy. She needs to feel you again and if the only way is through me, she’s accepted it. If you get back with mom, I won’t need to be the go between for her. I know she will never ask about this weekend, I will never bring it up. After tomorrow you and I will be father and daughter again, I love what we are doing and I’ll cherish the memories of this weekend, but I’m not looking for a permanent thing, not with you, not like this.” Zina picked up her phone and handed it to me, “Call mom, ask her out dad, she won’t say no. After that lets you and me go back to bed.”

I put the phone to my ear as Zina leaned over my lap then opened the robe, she cradled my balls as her other hand encouraged another hard-on.