"Finally," Veronica Lodge panted as they approached their destination. "Our summer cottage never looked more inviting!"
Hiram Lodge, her father, grinned at the tired eighteen-year old. His white hair disguised his years, making him appear older than he actually was, but that was an advantage when it came to his day-to-day life of dealing with companies run by blue-bl**ds. He was one himself, but that, and he was proud of the fact, did not make him put on airs... Except when it came to that freckle-faced boyfriend of hers, but he was actually starting to like the clumsy guy.
"Now you see, Ronnie dear, why I insisted that we hike all the way here... instead of coming here by car. It's only when you labor that the benefits become tangible."
Ronnie smiled at her father. "My father - the philosophical guru!"
Hiram threw a light punch at her, and it slightly grazed her shoulder. "Frankly, I am surprised you did not want to bring your friends along. Had any fight?"
"No, of course not. Just wanted to spend some quality time with my aging father - anything wrong with that?"
"Nothing, except the use of the word aging - I am not that old, for your information - just forty three next June."
She ruffled his hair, the whiteness reflecting the sunlight of the afternoon. "Funny. This white brush says you are lying."
"If you must know, young men in my f****y have white hair - it's a genetic trait."
The two of them laughed together, the easiness coming comfortably in spite of the fact that this was their first time together in ten years. They had reached the patio of the cottage, modest by wealthy standards, but in its simplicity itself was a homeliness he found engaging. The wooden platform ran along the perimeter of the house, extending as a pier-cum-tea-table in the back of the house. In the quiet afternoon, they could hear the water lapping gently against the wooden stalks that supported the platform.
Ronnie surveyed the scenery as her father fished around for the keys. She couldn't remember the last time she had visited this place; she had always known about it, but never really had the chance to spend a few days here. As her father had said, her previous vacations had been at well-known resorts, the resulting crowd itself an aberration to the natural beauty that was hidden from everyone.
There was a small clearing around the house, the harmless woods extending behind them for over five miles before bordering a quiet little town where Lodge had a resort lodge that catered for an entirely different part of the lake. Ronnie was instantly taken in by the virgin beauty of the place; the green serenity was quite a welcome change from the harsh townliness of Riverdale.
"Here you are, Mademoiselle," Hiram announced with a flourish as he threw the door open. "Your palace awaits you."
"Oh, Daddy," she cooed as she entered the tastefully decorated living room. "It's beautiful."
"Glad you like it," her father replied, carrying the luggage to a room on the right which, judging by the double bed, was the master bedroom. "I built it myself."
"No k**ding," she said, awed.
"The basic structure, at least," he amended, but the pride in his voice was still evident. "The roofing and the patio I had them done professionally. Here, let me show you around."
Ronnie followed her father all over the house as he gave her a tour of the place, pointing out the common bath with a door on the other side that led to her bedroom. There was a small kitchen, more as a standby, he explained, in the case of wet weather than as a utility room. "With weather like this, we can always cook outside."
The outside was at least as good as the inside. At the back, a low pier extended into the shallow water, the water enticingly blue and calm. At the landed end of the pier, there was a small tea-table, with a couple of balcony chairs and a rocking-chair around it. The door beside it led into the house through the kitchen, well-equipped with a fridge and a gas stove.
What Ronnie really liked was the badminton court that had been created by the side of the cottage. Even in Lodge's absence, it was clearly well-taken care of, and she was glad it was - she could guess how proud her father was that he owned the place.
"How about a game, dear?" Hiram asked, noticing her obvious interest in his mini-court. Of all the things at his cottage, the court was his pride and joy - and he was glad Ronnie liked it. As he gazed lovingly at her, waiting for her answer, he realized how much he had missed being one-on-one with her; she had grown up right under his watch, and he hadn't noticed it until it was almost too late. With her possibly heading off to college the next spring, Hiram knew this was probably the last picnic alone for father and daughter.
"Sounds good," Ronnie said excitedly. "But what about the gear?"
"I always keep a stash in the loft - bats, net, feathers - and even a bullhorn for the ref."
"Let's take a raincheck on the ref," she gave her father a bear hug. "Why don't you bring down the stuff while I change into something more comfortable?" She gave him a quick, daughterly peck on the lips, and rushed off before he could say anything.
Hiram watched her walk off - run, to be more precise - her lovely ass wiggling within her tight jeans. Absently, he thought about those cheeks; about how soft they would feel, if the rest of her skin was any indication; about how he would want to bury his face...
Brrrr! Hiram shook his head. It had been years since he had been decently laid, but now was neither the time nor the place to give in to those frustrations. And definitely not the person. Of all the people in the world, she was the most forbidden, the most untouchable woman he could have, and no amount of money could ever justify, or correct, any advances he made towards her.
Smiling to himself at having gotten over his inadvertent attraction towards his daughter so easily, Hiram went about setting up the court for a fun game. When Veronica dressed, he chuckled to himself, she really dressed - and that meant he had at least half an hour to get ready.
Surprisingly, his daughter walked out of the door barely ten minutes later. Hiram could not believe the transformation that had taken place; she had pulled her long, black hair into a ponytail; she had replaced her jeans with even more tight-fitting cotton shorts through which he could make out the darker outline of her bikini bottoms; and where a checked shirt had been, there was a loose tank top, with the straps of a bikini top the only extension towards her shoulder.
"Hi, Dad," she chirped brightly. "Need any help?"
"Just about finished, Hon," Hiram grunted as he stretched the tight net over the two poles. "Choose your bat; we'll toss for the serve."
In spite of the difference in their ages, Hiram whipped her out in the first three sets, rocketing his shots so fast they were on her side before she had even decided between a backhand and a forehand. Ronnie was impressed - for a guy who spent as much time in the office as her father did, he was remarkably fit. For a second, she wondered about the muscles that might be rippling under her father's Hawaiian shirt, and with a start, she realized that she was getting distracted.
Getting distracted by her own father.
Getting distracted by his deceptive physique, by his suave manner, by his gentlemanly charm... he came very close to being the man of her dreams.
"What's the matter, Ron?" Hiram asked, noticing that she had barely made a move to go after his shot that had scored him another point.
That broke her reverie. Thankfully. She smiled back patronizingly, guiltily relieved that he had no idea of the thoughts festering inside her head. "Nope, Daddy dear," she shouted back. "Just giving you a head start before I burn your lead."
The tempo picked up after that, and Ronnie made even more of an effort to beat her father. Hiram, though getting tired, held his territory even after over forty-five minutes of playing, and finally, the two of them decided to call it even-stevens; Hiram knew he had won, but decided not to press the issue.
"Damn, Dad!" Veronica exclaimed, holding the still-intact feather-cock in her hand. "It must have taken over a hundred hits, and look at it - still looking fresh!"
"More like a thousand hits, my dear," her father corrected, "But these things are sturdy. This one is my favorite brand."
"Gee, Dad, sounds like you've got a good cock in there." As soon as she said that, even before her father registered surprise and indignation on his face, she felt like giving herself a kick in her arse. Hastily, she tried to cover up her mistake, and ended up blubbering even more. "What I meant was - I mean - you've got good taste in cocks, Daddy."
"Oops! Sorry again - guess that made you sound like a gay - anyway, you sure know how to play badminton well."
Hiram grinned at his daughter's discomfiture. Teens - anything and everything they said nowadays is so sexually charged, he thought, that even they get awkward by what they say. He kissed her on her cheeks reassuringly, and gave her a gentle, paternal slap on her butt. "State Junior Champion, three years on the trot."
Ronnie smiled back gratefully. Thank God he had changed the subject. Suddenly, she felt hot under the collar; the water looked too tempting to resist. "Can I go for a swim?"
"Sure sweetie. Just take the long walk off the short pier."
She laughed at his imitation of a gangster as she ran towards the blue lake. It took her less than thirty seconds to shimmy out of her shorts and throw away her tank-top. Unsure of how deep the water was, she decided to splash into it bum-first. To her delight, the depth was just a little over seven feet - the ideal depth for a couple of hours of being lazily afloat.
Hiram stacked the bats back inside the loft, deciding to let the net remain where it was until it was time for them to go. He had packed a couple of paperbacks, and having prepared a tall jug of cold lemonade in a matter of experienced seconds - he still hadn't forgotten his old boy scout days - went out to his seat on the above-water patio.
He waved to his daughter, who waved back, as he settled himself into the rocking-chair, the jug placed on the table beside him, and opened one of the novels. With a glass of lemonade in one hand, and the book in the other, he felt ready for some serious relaxation. The only sounds that disturbed the stillness around them was his daughter's thrashing the water, but even that was music to the father's ears.
Half an hour passed into history.
Hearing the sound of his daughter getting out of the water, Hiram lowered his book - and then dropped it. His half-filled glass of lemonade crashed to the floor, but even that did not - could not - turn his eyes away from the sight that greeted him.
Veronica was standing before him in the buff. Nude. Totally nude.
In spite of himself, Hiram found her body made interesting study. Her breasts, as was the V of her crotch, were a pale shade of the tanned skin around them, and somehow, it gave him a sense of relief that his daughter hadn't been sunbathing recently. Long, lithe legs led upwards along an hourglass figure into nice, firm breasts a trifle too large for her frame, before curving into the long, graceful neck just below that sweet face with those sexily pouting lips.
Hiram might have found his voice a lot sooner, if he hadn't been so fascinated by the sight of a heart-shaped bush above the sacred vertex of her femininity. It was faultlessly done, a perfect image of the universal symbol for love, and it looked so delicate and beautiful just a couple of inches away from her love-hole. Knowing that he had stared at her for three seconds too many, Hiram tried to raise his eyes to meets hers, only to be drawn away from his objective by the sight of his daughter's wet cleavage.
Finally, he managed to avert his eyes long enough from her body to will himself to stare right into her black, pearly eyes. "What's the meaning of this?" he roared, surprising himself with the anger that he exuded "Where's your suit?"
Although more than a little intimidated by his unexpected reaction, Ronnie tried to act casual. She jerked a thumb back towards the water, and his eyes jerked in the direction she pointed. There, floating in an idyllic manner, were the two pieces that constituted her bikini. The dark blue material of the suit was a stark contrast to the electric blue of the water around it.
"It was getting too hot, Daddy. I thought you wouldn't mind," she began slowly, but her father cut her off in mid-sentence.
"I thought you had outgrown this a long time ago, Ronnie - this casual attitude you have towards money. I shelled out a hundred - remember that, Ron, a hundred bucks - for that silly excuse of a suit, and now you just dump it into the water, 'just because it is too hot.' I am sick of this, Ronnie, sick of you wasting my money like this. Now go back and put it back, or I'll never buy you anything else as long as I am alive."
Eyes smoldered as he stared at her, shooting daggers that hurt even more than it would have if he had physically attacked her. Shocked, Veronica moved a step back, visibly shrinking under her father's attack.
Abruptly, she rebelled. With a violent huff, she turned on her heels and dived into the water, furiously swimming towards her floating dress even as she surfaced. The adrenaline rush sped her up, and before Hiram could even regain his composure, she was back on the pier, holding up the wet dress.
"Here it is," she said, almost spitting the words, "Your $100 bikini. You can have it." She threw it at her father furiously, the wet material slapping against his face. The cold water knocked some fatherly concern back into Hiram, substituting for the anger that had caused him to rail at his daughter. He watched in dismay as she stormed into the house.
Shoving the swimsuit aside, ignoring the water that dripped from his face, he ran after her. He managed to catch up with Ronnie in the living room, just outside the door to her room.
"Ronnie," he said, genuinely sorry that he had shouted at her, "I am sorry."
She looked at him, and he was stunned by the intensity of the hurt and the anger that her eyes revealed. "Sorry!" she spat out. "The easiest word in your vocabulary."
"Shut up, Daddy. What makes you think you can control my life? What gave you the right to suddenly act as a father again? You gave me money when I needed it - yeah, I know - but that is not what makes a father. You should have been there for me everytime - at least most of the time - that I needed you. You were never there, nor was Mom; but then, she is never there for anybody else but herself.
"You allowed me freedom with my friends, but admit it - wasn't that more to get me off your hair than anything else? I am just the ideal e****t when it comes to entertaining your partners' sons, but what about my entertainment, just a few hours alone with my father.
"And you never really paid any attention to me. Everytime I walked around in those bikinis, too small they would be considered indecent outside our house, all you would do was go to your room, or your study, and broker deals. Not a word to me; not a single command to wear something better. Hell, Archie did a better job of noticing my immodesty than you did.
"And when I finally thought you would notice me, or at least just allow me to be free, you shout at me, you shamed me. What am I supposed to do, instead of being angry with you? This?"
Before Hiram managed to realize what was happening, her lips mashed against his, and her tongue darted into his mouth. Her arms pulled his head closer to hers, and he felt his hands automatically encircle her waist, joining just at the beginning of the crack of her waist. He had never known a sensation so powerful as the feel of her tongue sliding over his, teasing the roots of his molars.
He kissed back.
Ron's eyes widened as she felt her father push his tongue into her mouth, and instead of pulling away, she just hugged him harder. The heat was all-enveloping; neither wanted to, nor could neither, pull away. Their kiss was locked passionately, sealing off everything else of the outside world. Hiram's hands parted, and individually kneaded the cheeks of her buttocks, causing her knees to go soft at the feel of his fingers on her asshole.
It was only when his right hand moved even further that Ronnie realized how much he excited her. The thought scared her - and for a second, she even contemplated pulling away before things got out of hand. But before she could even register her inhibitions, a finger brushed lightly against her lips - and she shuddered.
Hiram felt the soft, satiny feel of his daughter's cuntal lips a second before she shuddered, and he felt himself go rock hard at the thought of her arousal. He didn't know whether the wetness of her crotch was due to her recent swim, or the more recent sexual moment that was still going on between them. A part told him it was wrong, and he had almost shaken off that conscience when she shuddered again.
Abruptly, as quickly as they had come together, they pulled apart. Their eyes met, communicating a need for words. And as much as words threatened to pour out, they didn't. The moment passed in embarrassed silence.
Veronica turned away, and had almost opened the door to her room when her father clutched her hand. "Ronnie, dear," he said gently, softly, "Will you please listen to me?"
She nodded, and Hiram led her to the sofa. They sat together, her unabashedly beautiful in her nakedness, and he squeezed her hand lovingly, before speaking his heart out. "I never knew I hurt you so much, Ronnie, but if you give me the chance to explain them away, I think you will realize that I did it more out of love for you than anything else... I was always too afraid of losing you."
She looked at him questioningly, encouraging him to open up even more. "It's the truth - let me start with my c***dhood. My parents were never really there for me, and I grew up really feeling the effects of being an only c***d. I had no close friend in the house, except a butler, Jenkins, but he was always more of a father figure than a friend. When I married your mother, it promised to be the start of a lifelong period of companionship.
"That promise turned to tatters when I realized your mother was more in love with my money than with me, but by then, you had been born already. The little baby that made me feel special once again. I always wanted to be special to you, honey, to always be there for you.
"But with your mother burning up more and more money, I had to keep earning more - working more was the only solution. At times, the strain almost wore me out, but the thought that I was doing this for you made me go on long after I might have burned out.
"Before I knew it, you had turned into a beautiful teen, and I realized sadly that I had missed the last few years - the turning point - of your life. It was something that I thought I could never regain, the time that I had wasted in more material pursuits. I thought I was not the figure in your life... you had a lot of friends, and my colleagues had warned me that c***dren once past a certain age tended to get irritated by their parents.
"I guess that did it for me - I withdrew into a shell of my own making, resigning myself to being just a signature on the credit cards and the checks - BECAUSE I thought you wouldn't want me in your life any more."
"Oh daddy!" Ronnie said, her heart genuinely going out to him. He held up a finger and shushed her. "Please. Let me finish." She nodded, and he continued. "When you started to display your sexuality, I wanted to tell you, as a father, to be more discrete, but the fear of you actually hating me silenced me. I should have spoken out anyway, but when a man is in his middle age, he is suddenly frightened for all the good things he might lose one day.
"In my life, there was only one good thing. And so I didn't want to lose you.
"I am really sorry I shouted at you today, Ronnie dear, but I guess the shock of seeing a beautiful girl naked can mess up any male. Besides, even though I knew better, I thought you were going to give in to your mother's lifestyle. I was thinking ahead to the time when I wouldn't be here anymore, and you would have to fend for yourself."
"Don't say that, Daddiekins," Ronnie interrupted, suddenly affectionate. "You are always going to be there for me. Always. And I am sorry I shouted at you - it's just that it's been a long time since you even told me you loved me, and although I did know it... you know, a girl always wants to hear her father say those."
"I love you, Ronnie."
"Thank you, Daddy. I love you too." She landed a wet kiss on his cheeks, and smiled sheepishly at him as she stood up. "Guess I'll go dress up."
"You don't have to, if you don't want to," Hiram offered.
Her eyes lit up. "You mean that?" When her father nodded, she squealed in joy. She placed another sloppy kiss on his wet cheeks, blissfully unmindful of the fact that her luscious body was just an arm's reach from her father. In her joy, she almost forgot about how aroused their kiss a few minutes ago had made her.
Grinning, she stood up and stretched, and Hiram instantly wondered how he would put up with a week of such erotic sights as he was being treated to right then. Her firm breasts, topped by the pink nipples and graced by areolas a dime wide, were perfect to the point of being sculpted, and her heart-shaped bush, at this closer distance, was definitely a sight he would remember to his death.
He shifted uncomfortably as his erect cock started to tent his shorts in a significant fashion, and Ronnie realized she liked this reaction of his. As soon as he had kissed her back, she had known she had fallen for him, and hearing him declare his love for her had only strengthened that feeling. That it was not an infatuation was obvious by the way she wanted to be his - and his alone.
A plan formed in her mind - a plan to finally get him to be her man. It had just popped up, and she liked it instantly. Simple, and yet, decisive. Just like her father.
"In that case, let me get some early dinner ready."
Hiram was thankful when she closed the door of the kitchen behind her, for even though he was sure she had noticed his hardon, he didn't know whether she had thought about it enough to get freaked out. No sooner had the door closed than he jammed a hand inside his shorts to adjust his annoying erection.
The warm scent of fresh pancakes filled the room after some time, and Hiram, for the first time, heard his belly growl. God, was he hungry! "Something smells good, Ron. And it's definitely making me hungry."
"Then come on in," she called back brightly. "I am almost done."
Hiram walked in to the kitchen and to a sight that stopped him dead in his tracks. Bent over the little brick oven, her bare ass jutting out at him, was Ronnie. He saw her pussy lips for the first time, pink and so... womanly. He had never thought vaginal lips were so beautiful, and, he realized with a start, the ones on her overshadowed anything else he had ever seen. Except herself.
Still in the trance caused by her nudity, he took his seat at the round table, and was pleased to notice that she had already laid the plates out, and the bowl of mustard never looked so tempting. "Here you go," his daughter announced as she placed a huge pile of pancakes on the table.
Hiram was surprised by her prowess. "You learnt cooking?"
"I got Betty to teach me," Ronnie replied. "When we decided on the trip - figured I would give you some good, ol' American food instead of the gourmet stuff that Gaston feeds us everyday."
Hiram took a tentative bite. "This stuff is really good," he admitted. "Who would have ever thought of it - my daughter, a fantastic cook!"
"Why, thank you, Daddy!" she blushed at the compliment. Then with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, she asked, "What would you like for dessert, Dad?"
"Two choices - ginger garlic pie -"
"Ginger garlic pie? I'll take the second choice, no doubt about it. What's it, anyway?"
"A surprise. You will get it, when you eat it."
"Sounds even better."
"There is a catch."
"Figures - after all, you are my daughter. What is it?"
"No matter what I serve, you have to eat it. At least take five bites."
Hiram saw no harm in that. He had withstood two years of his wife's battle with the kitchen. "Okay."
They ate the rest of the dinner in silence. Ronnie, excited by the prospect of being a significant step closer to the successful execution of her plan, made a mess of eating her food, and by the time she had downed her last slice, four gobs of mustard were on her tits. Hiram tried not to notice, but he found himself wondering on more than one occasion about her reaction if he just wiped them off her breasts with his pancake - or even more favorably, his tongue.
Like Ronnie, he barely managed to finish his dinner.
After they were done, his daughter shooed him out of the kitchen, insisting that she clean the room herself. Hiram gave up, and decided to wait in the living room until she called out that the dessert was ready.
That call came five minutes later. It was almost an action replay of his previous entrance as he opened the door, took a couple of steps inside... and stopped dead. His dessert was waiting for him, all right - all one hundred and five pounds of it.
For, lying on the table, her legs parted widely, her sexy lips staring at his face, was Veronica. "Ta da," she said in a singsong voice. She pointed with her palms to her sopping wet pussy. "Your dessert, Daddy. Go ahead. Tell me how you like it."
Hiram hesitated for just a second. It was what she wanted, and without a doubt, it was what he wanted too. He wasn't going to insult her decision by asking her if she was sure. He wasn't going to risk her changing her mind at the last moment.
The first drop of her juice was sheer sweetness for Hiram, the pleasure compounded by the fact that the body writhing under the influence of his tongue was his own daughter. He thrust his tongue into her depths, surprising himself with the length that he achieved. Veronica started to buck and her moans were getting louder, but since it was just the two of them for miles, he decided to let her cry out for all she was worth.
After he had d***k her for a minute - but she just seemed to be getting wetter - Hiram raised his face and looked at the lust-ridden face of his daughter. Even the feelings that contorted her face could not take away from her that beauty which refused to be submerged by any throe of passion, and Hiram knew at that moment that he would always cherish the sight of her satisfied face.
Veronica opened her eyes to see her father looking at her appreciatively, and smiled contentedly back. Hiram drew a finger over her moist lips and trailed it over her well-designed bush. "I have had five bites," he said, almost apologetically. "It's so delicious I want to have some more. Can I?"
In reply, she thrust her hips upward at him.
Her father went down on her again, tasting the nectar that oozed out of the very same body that he had created eighteen years ago. But even as the world viewed it as a taboo, he felt he was in the right. It felt so natural, the feel of his daughter's femininity on his teasing mouth.
Ronnie managed to hold on for just a few more minutes before she gave in to the vast orgasm that washed over her, and she drenched his face with her cum. It felt so wonderful to have her father love her like so little had - in fact, she thought of herself as the luckiest girl alive, for she loved deeply, and was loved back in the same way by, her father.
Suddenly, strong hands lifted her off the table, and she giggled as he threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. The kitchen may be a good place for dessert, but it was no venue for the main course - that was the bedroom's job. She kissed his back as he carried her into the master bedroom, and pulled him down with her as he laid her on the bed.
Hiram was about to tear himself away from her body just long enough to shuck his clothes away, but his daughter had other, better ideas. She clutched the back of his head and guided him to her throbbing left breast, where a dark nipple proclaimed her highest state of arousal. He took the cue - and even as she moaned again under his worship of her breasts, her hands unbuttoned his shirt and pulled down his shorts.
Her hands immediately grasped his member as it sprang free from its confines, slapping against her tummy with the soft sound of flesh against flesh. She moved her hands up and down his shaft a few times, taking care not to cause him to blow his load prematurely - she wanted to have him fill her, as he had fruitfully filled her mother years ago. His balls slapped against her fingers as her body fought to remain in the planet, but with his loving caresses of her body, it was something that was getting increasingly harder for her to do.
She came again, slapping against his body and crushing his cock between her bodies as another massive orgasm overrode her senses, and shamelessly, her juices drenched the bedsheets.
Hiram was extremely pleased that she was so ... enthusiastic, and he was determined to keep it that way. As he saw her eyes return to reality, he started to move downwards, towards her pussy, intending to finish her off one more time before he climaxed himself, but once again, his daughter vetoed his plans. She slid under him until she was able to grab his dick, and then, with minimal movement, positioned it at her entrance.
Her hands cupped his cheeks, and their eager lips touched again with renewed passion, as he started to thrust in and out of her, slowly at first, but picking up on the tempo as they built up towards a climax together.
Ronnie smiled to herself as she watched her father play with their first born, a baby boy of almost seven months. Absently, she ran a hand across her flat tummy, reminded that the stretch marks that had begun to disappear would pay another visit after nine months, when she would deliver their second c***d, but she knew that no matter how she looked, her father would always make her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the whole world.
Yet another reason why she loved him...
It was a rare thing that she thought of her mother, but as she proudly watched her 'husband' and c***d playing, she wondered how her mother could have avoided the wonderful feelings of motherhood. In fact, when her father had told her he was leaving her, and that the two of them were moving to a little village in the South of France, the first question her mother had asked was, "What about the settlement?"
The last they had heard of her, she had married again and was definitely more of a housewife now.
Oh well, Ronnie thought, I hope she is at least half as happy as I am!