The Man She Needed Him to Be

"No," she said curtly, sitting up straight and removing his arm from her shoulder. "I'm done. Can we go now?"

The short ride back to Trish's apartment was icily quiet. Trish stared out the passenger window, ashamed to look at him. What the fuck had she been thinking? Technically, he was her father, and even if she was of a mind to do anything, she seriously doubted if he would even consider it. He had been incredibly nice, though, and she felt guilty for shutting him down like that, just because he mentioned the asshole. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

But it was obvious she needed to get laid, and soon. It's just that since she found out about her pregnancy, some sort of mothering instinct had kicked in. She'd been shunning all of her old haunts, not returning calls from all the bad boys who had kept her perennially-starved pussy filled on a nightly basis. It wasn't that she wasn't horny any more - if anything, the hormones had kicked her libido into the stratosphere. She'd nearly worn out her vibes, diddling herself three or four times a day, but that wasn't enough. She needed a real man in her life, not some one-night stand. She needed somebody who was going to be there tomorrow, and the day after, and the year after that. She needed a solid daddy for her baby. And she needed a solid man between her legs. If she could only find someone like James.

Someone exactly like James. What was it that he'd said about settling down with one woman? No, that would never work. Would it? The germ of a decadent and devious idea had settled in her clever little mind, and began to grow.

## ~~~~~~~~~ ##

James pulled into the parking lot of his daughter's complex, still trying to make sense out of what happened. Everything had been going so great. Trish had opened up to him about her problems, and it was the closest he had ever felt to her. Then he had to ruin it by mentioning the bitch, and got the quiet treatment all the way home. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

She waited for him to come around and open her door. He took her hand to help her out, and continued to hold it as they walked to her door. Okay, at least his daughter wasn't totally pissed at him.

She turned to him, and they both said "I'm sorry" at the same time. Then they both chuckled.

He started first, "I have a pretty good idea of how your conversation with Gloria is going to go. I shouldn't have pressured you."

Trish shook her head, "No, it wasn't your fault, James. It's..." How could she put it? "...Baby is making my body and my head go through some weird changes. You probably haven't spent much time time around pregnant women..."

He winced.

"Oh, James. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," she said with sincere embarrassment.

"It's okay, Trish" he smiled, taking both of her hands. "I've heard the stories. The sudden changes in behavior, the bizarre urges. A woman's hormones have to be a blessing and curse."

She snickered. "More like satanic voodoo."

James grinned. "If you need anything, Trish, anything at all, just call me. Butter pecan ice cream with dill pickles at three AM? I'm here for you, regardless of how silly you think it is. Whatever or whenever, you have my number." He squeezed her hands. "You're not alone."

With a gleam in her eye, Trish told him, "You don't know what that means to me, James." She leaned into him and hugged him around his waist.

His arms fell easily across her back, embracing her lovingly. He said, "I know I wasn't much of a father, but I'll do my damnedest to be the best grandfather you ever saw."

"Thank you, James. For everything. I had a really good time tonight."

"Me, too," he replied.

Trish stepped back and held both of his hands. Her thumbs made soft little circles on the back. They gazed at each other for a long moment. He had seen a similar look on other women, and he knew what usually came next. But this was Trish, his daughter. Then a curious smile lit her face, and she rose up on her toes, lips pursed. The kiss that he expected on his cheek fell on his lips instead, and it remained there. He was surprised, and her kiss felt nice. Time suspended as he waited to see what would happen. What happened was that her arms went around his neck, pressing their mouths together. Her warm, excited breath fell against his cheek. Natural male instincts drew his arms around her, tilting her back, possessing her. When he sensed the parting of her lips, inviting, his tongue answered without conscience or morality, raking across her teeth, flicking at her soft tongue, tasting her. When he sucked at her lower lip and pulled her soft belly against his erection, and she moaned passionately, only then did his better angels finally wake up and clang the alarm.

James reeled back from the kiss, standing upright and staring at his lovely daughter who was still lying in his arms, smiling happily, her breasts heaving rapidly. He was hard, painfully hard, and unless he read her wrong, she was ripe and ready for fucking. What the hell was going on?

"Trish?" was the only word he could utter, pulling her up to her feet.

"Good night, James," she said with a seductive smile. Her voice was smooth and sultry, like he'd never heard from her.

As she turned to unlock her door, he repeated, "Trish? What was that...? Why did...?"

She looked over her shoulder. "I'm going to hold you to your promise, James."

"Promise?"

"Anything I need, remember? Whatever? Whenever?" She blew him a kiss. "I'll see you later, James." The lilt of the words hinted at more than he dared fathom. With a sultry sway of her ass, she walked inside and shut the door.

James stood under the porch light, gawking at the closed door. What the hell just happened?

## ~~~~~~~~~ ##

Just inside, Trish fell back against the door gasping for breath, her heart thumping wildly. The grin stretched her face. She couldn't fucking believe that kiss. God, she hadn't been kissed like that since - since forever! If that was the way he kissed her mouth, how would his kiss feel between her legs? She was already soggy down there, and her nipples were on full alert. She had nearly invited him inside - all the way inside - but that would have gone badly, and the whole plan would have come to a rapid halt. It had taken every ounce of fortitude to walk away, but she knew it was too soon.

She chuckled to herself. The look on his face. She knew she had him hooked. Now it wasn't so much reeling him in as holding out a net that he would willingly jump into. It wasn't the first time she'd done something like this, but never with quite the same stakes. She knew that James would not surrender easily. When he did, however, there would be no turning back for either of them, and unless she had misread him, that was exactly what both of them wanted.

Her plan would begin tonight, so she needed to go to bed soon. First things first, though: before she could get any sleep, the screaming in her pussy would need to be silenced. She left a trail of clothes in her wake, and rummaged through her toy drawer. There it was, as lifelike as she'd found, average sized, pink and rubbery. She could easily imagine that James might look something like this. If he was bigger, all the better.

She needed no lube; James's awesome kiss had primed her quite nicely, and as she teased her clit and stroked her wide-open lips with the pink shaft, it became slick in her wetness. She pressed it inward, twisting and rocking it side to side. She closed her eyes, imagined the weight of James's body on her, fantasizing that it was his hands on her breasts instead of her own. Her pinky teased the nub of her clit as she fucked herself with the artificial James, pumping and rolling her hips, and she was soon riding the crest of the first of several pleasant little orgasms that she enjoyed, murmuring his name with each one, before rolling over and setting the alarm.

## ~~~~~~~~~ ##

James moved around his condo in a daze, still trying to come to grips with the evening's events. The whole earth had shifted on its axis. What had begun as a quiet dinner with his daughter ended with perhaps the most erotic experience he could remember - a passionate kiss that made the hair on his neck stand on end, not to mention other parts of his anatomy.

And in between, a roller coaster of emotions. First was her revelation: he was going to be a grandfather! That was almost as good as having a child of his own, maybe better. Then there were the intimate moments when she let him feed her: perhaps he shouldn't have been so forward with her, but the way she looked at him was the closest thing to love that he'd ever felt from his little girl.

Why did he have to open his big mouth and bring Gloria into the conversation? That had certainly ended the meal quite abruptly. He still wasn't sure what it was that made Trish turn cold the way she did. He'd heard about the quick-changing tides of pregnancy, but had never seen anything like Trish's sudden anger. Or did it have something to do with Gloria, or that asshole that she married?

Stretched out in his bed, James's thoughts kept returning to their forbidden kiss. It seemed to come from nowhere. Was it just another hormonal caprice, or did it spring from somewhere else in her psyche? The power, the sensuality of his daughter had been overwhelming, igniting such desire that James had been nearly ready to make love with her, pushing her up against the door and taking her right there on her front porch. His own daughter! What sort of lecherous pervert had he become?

Just the memory of Trish's full lips, her voluptuous body, and the tiny, submissive moan that she made was enough to bring him to full attention again. He thought of calling her friend Erica to come over. That might lay his bizarre fantasies to rest. He couldn't put up with another night of her caterwauling climaxes, though. So, he did the next best thing, something he hadn't needed to do in a long time - he pushed the sheets back and wrapped his fist around his cock.

James flipped through his mental rolodex of lovers, searching for a face and a body to fuel his fantasies as he slowly stroked himself. It was useless; the gravity of her kept pulling him back to Trish. She resembled her mother so closely, it was easy to picture her naked. He closed his eyes and envisioned that long, silky auburn hair, her deep blue eyes, the curvaceous hips and pale, round butt, and those heavy, veined teardrop breasts, soon to be swollen with her baby's milk. He hoped she didn't shave herself bare like Erica. He imagined her astride his thighs, her dangling tits bouncing vigorously. His hand moved faster and faster until his balls tightened and his back arched. Groaning loudly, he erupted in the most dazzlingly intense rapture in recent memory, either alone or with a lover. He squirted all over his belly up his chest, even hitting his chin.

In his post-orgasmic letdown, James curled up, ashamed of his illicit lust for his daughter. He felt so dirty and degenerate to even think about her innocent young body that way. He was afraid of what he might do if she ever kissed him again like she did tonight.

## ~~~~~~~~~ ##

In the dark, James fumbled for the cell phone ringing on the bedside table.

"Hello?" he croaked. His eyes, cloudy with sleep, were unable to read the name.

"James? Baby wants a pizza."

"Trish?" he said, trying to focus on the glowing numbers on the clock. Two thirty-seven. "You want a what?"

"A pizza. Onions and black olives, but no sauce. Even the thought of tomato sauce makes my stomach churn."

"You know what time it is?" he asked, then realized that of course she did.

"Yeah. It's a little after 2:30. Will you get me one? Puh-leaze?" she whined.

"Where the hell am I going to get a..."

""The bowling alley down on 28th Ave." she interrupted. "They're open all night."

"Trish, are you serious?" he asked, his voice almost a growl.

"You promised, James." she reminded him sweetly.

His shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "Okay. It'll take me a while to..."

"I've already called it in," she said gleefully. "It should be ready about the time you get there. I'll leave the door unlocked. Just come on in."

James paused, gruffly pondering how he felt about being wrapped around his daughter's finger.

"James?" she purred across the phone. "I love you."

He would have swum to Italy to get her a pizza after hearing those words. She had never, ever said that to him, at least not without him saying it first, and certainly not with such feeling.

"I love you too, honey. I'll be there in about half an hour," he said.

## ~~~~~~~~~ ##

He knocked twice, then tried the door. Just as she told him, it was open.

"Trish?" he called out.

"In the kitchen," she hollered back.

Thank goodness, James thought. He was afraid she would want him to bring it to her bedroom, and that could be dangerous in his present state of mind.

She was at the sink, washing. He set the pizza on the table, and she turned around. His jaw dropped. The knee-length, burgundy negligee wasn't see-through, but neither did it conceal the dark circles of her breasts or the darker triangle below. His pants felt instantly tighter, and his mouth watered with a sudden wicked urge to suckle at those teats, and to taste the treasures that lay beneath her tangled forest.

Trish held a couple of glasses and seemed cheerful, ignorant of his lecherous glare. "I have some bourbon," she offered. "Or would you prefer a beer or a soft drink?"

"Uh, thanks, Trish, but I think I should go," James said. He needed to get out of there, in a hurry.

"Oh, please don't rush off," she begged. "Stay a while."

"I - I have a meeting tomorrow." He checked his watch and chuckled. "Well, I guess it's later this morning. Anyway, I really need to get some sleep."

"Okay," she acceded reluctantly, dropping her disappointed shoulders. "Thanks for doing this, James. It's really good to know that you're here for me."

"Um, Trish," he faltered. He needed to set some boundaries. "I have to confess. I - I'm not sure I can give you, um, well, everything that I think you want. Not everything. There are some things - I'm your father, you know, and..."

"Please, James. Don't play that card," she said, a soft warning. She came to him and held his hand. "You're a good man, James. You're probably the most honest and caring man I know. You gave me life, but you're not my father. We both pretended to make that work for years, but I think we know better now."

"I'm sorry, Trish," James said apologetically. "I tried to be..."

She shushed him with a finger to his lips. "It's okay. Don't feel bad, James. I'm not upset, and you shouldn't be either. It took me a long time to figure things out, but now I understand why you and mom didn't get along, and why neither of you would have been happy together. She hates sex. She despises it. If she took better care of that asshole she married, he wouldn't be screwing both the choir director and her teenage daughter, and he wouldn't have cornered me in the garage and tried to rape me."

James's mouth dropped open, his face turning red, growling, "That son of a..."

Trish grinned, "Don't worry. He got a knee in the balls, and he never touched me again."

James snickered.

She said, "So I don't blame you for the way things turned out, James. The fact is, I got my mother's pretty hair, her deep blue eyes, and her big butt and these nice boobies here. But it's the genes that I got from you that make me what I am, James. I got the part of you that fills me with an intense hunger, an overwhelming need to touch and to be touched, all over, inside and out, to willfully fall into a pile of dirty, sweaty, writhing naked bodies, tumbling toward glorious satisfaction. That's the part of you that I cherish the most. Mom never understood, but I think you do, don't you?"

He nodded silently. He did understand. How much had he struggled with his own hunger? And his daughter was afflicted with the same demons. That explained a lot that he'd heard from Gloria, and other things, too.

Trish held his arms and came up on her toes to give him a kiss.

James tensed. He knew where she was going, and wasn't yet willing to give in to his lust for her, or let their runaway desires ruin the fragile relationship they'd built. He quickly turned his face to offer his cheek. She surprised him again. Her full, warm lips landed not on his cheek, but at the base of his unshaven jaw. Her touch was soft and sensual, and her kiss lingered, sucking gently at his skin. Unable to move, he could hear the measured susurrance of her steamy breaths, and felt their sultry breezes blow lightly across the tiny hairs of his ear. The tips of her breasts rubbed back and forth across his shirt slowly, exciting herself, exciting him.

Trish's lips lifted from his stubbled jaw, and she whispered once again, "I love you, James," then touched a quick kiss to his earlobe.

James stared at her. Silently, Trish returned his gaze. Even if he didn't hear it in her voice, he could see it all in her eyes, the admiration, the tenderness, and the glistening beads gathering in the corners. This was no hormonal whim. Neither was it a daughter's love for her father. It wasn't simply lust. This was love, the real thing. And James suddenly realized that he felt it, too. But they couldn't... Could they?

"You need to go," Trish said softly, her voice cracking with emotion. "Your meeting..."

James desperately fought the impulse to kiss her. He knew exactly where that would end. He backed away, their eyes still locked on one another. He couldn't say the words she had said to him, couldn't tell her how he felt, because on the other side of that door lay both heaven and hell. He had to be absolutely sure, for both of their sakes.

"Good night, Trish," he said, and turned to go, then hesitated. With a gentle smile, he said, "Call me if you need anything. Anything at all."

She grinned. "Okay."

James sped home, running several red lights where no other cars were in sight, and dropped into his bed, masturbating to an even more powerful, more exquisite orgasm while he dreamed of holding his daughter down and fucking her mercilessly.

## ~~~~~~~~~ ##

Trish shuffled through her workday like a zombie. On the one hand, she was exhausted. After James left, she never got back to sleep. At first, she masturbated until both her pussy and her ass were sore, piling one climax on top of another while fantasizing a dozen ways that James might take her. At some point, morning sickness kicked in, and she spent the next hour or so in the bathroom. It wouldn't have mattered, though - she still would've been tossing and turning in her bed, trying to figure out how the hell she had fallen in love with her goddamn father.

And that was the other reason Trish couldn't concentrate on anything: she was truly in love, maybe for the first time in her life. This was no infatuation - she was quite familiar with that giddy, intoxicated silliness. This was different - no less distracting, but infinitely more intimate and satisfying. Every time she thought of James, she felt both a glow in her heart and a touch of sadness. It all would have been perfect, except that the man she loved was someone she was not allowed to love. She couldn't tell a single soul. What a truly fucked up pile of shit this was!

Falling in love hadn't been the plan, at least not for her. Sure, Trish had intended to seduce James. It was a nearly perfect scheme. He offered the stability she needed in her life right now, as well as a warm male body to strum her strings at night. She felt it was only right that he should provide for her baby what he had never given her. Then, when she didn't need him any more, all she had to do was leak their relationship to her mom, and just stand back and watch the meltdown. Getting back at the asshole that her mom married would be a bonus. Of course, the look on Erica's face when she discovered why James wasn't into her any more would have been priceless, too.