Reeling Her In - Part 2

James and Carla sat at the dinner table, the atmosphere filled with the aroma of roasted chicken and vegetables. James fidgeted nervously with the strap of his newly acquired dress.

Carla smiled, “I don’t think I’ve had a conversation with Sarah for a year.”

“Well, maybe I can change that,” he said in Sarah’s soft voice.

James glanced at the empty seat where he usually sat. His heart raced as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the dining room window—a perfect imitation of Sarah, complete with dark curls and wide, innocent eyes.

He reached up to touch the long, dark hair framing her face, feeling its softness glide between his fingers. It was intoxicating, being inside this skin, this life that had once felt like such a burden to him.

“Chaos to calm,” he whispered, enjoying the transformation.

James managed to drop a pea into Sarah’s cleavage amidst his distraction.

“Uh oh,” Carla let out a soft giggle, “Guess you’re going to have to fish that out, honey.”

James gasped, a blush creeping across Sarah's cheeks. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, his hand slipping into the low-cut sundress, brushing against his daughter’s breasts. His fingers lingered just a moment longer before he caught himself.

They resumed eating as if nothing had happened, but James felt a growing temptation pulsing through him. He was …aroused. All he could think about was getting some time alone with Sarah’s body.

“Excuse me for a moment,” James stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as he made his way to the hallway, heart racing with each step. 

The house echoed with the clinking of cutlery as Carla continued eating, clearly unbothered.

“Just a few moments of freedom,” he muttered under his breath.

He eagerly grabbed Sarah’s breasts in his hands, feeling the thrill of control surge through him. The sensation was overpowering, a strange blend of exhilaration and guilt. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this—shouldn’t be taking such pleasure in the body of his own daughter. But the thrill of it intoxicated him.

He closed his eyes, losing himself in the dizzying rush of sensations, the soft warmth enveloping him like a cocoon. It felt forbidden and exhilarating all at once, a secret dance between father and daughter that shouldn't exist.

He grasped at the roundness of her butt. Then, at the mound between her legs.

It was wrong, he knew it was wrong. But the thrill of taboo, of possessing his daughter's body, was too much to resist. James couldn't help himself as he delved further into his newfound desires, exploring every inch of Sarah's supple flesh. His hands roamed her lithe figure, his arousal growing with each passing second.

His daughter's body responded to his touches, sending shivers down his spine. James moaned softly, grateful they were the only ones in the house tonight. The danger of being caught only fueled his desire further. He slid a hand inside her panties, parting her folds and discovering her slickness.

"This is sick," he muttered to himself, but his fingers still delved deeper, seeking out her clitoris.

James couldn't believe he was doing this, that he had sunk so low as to pleasure himself with his own daughter's body, but the more he touched her, the less he cared about the consequences.

Just then, footsteps echoed down the hallway. Panic surged through him; he quickly pulled his hands away and plastered on a nonchalant smile as Carla appeared at the end of the corridor. 

“Everything okay, sweetie?” she asked, eyebrow raised, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Yeah, just—uh, admiring my dress,” he stammered, feeling heat rise in his cheeks as he twirled a strand of hair around his finger—a gesture he had seen Sarah do countless times.