Marsha received two shocks the next morning when she awoke. The first shock was the time. It was after nine! The alarm clock in her room always went off promptly at seven so she could get ready for school. But she wasn't in her own bedroom. That was her second shock. She was in her dad's bed – and she was as naked as her father!
She jumped out of the bed as if she'd been burned. She gathered up her dress and quickly got into it. Her father rolled in the bed, smacked his lips a few times, and opened his eyes. A sickly smile crossed his pasty-white face.
"Mornin', honey," he murmured.
Marsha turned and looked at him. He looked terrible. His eyes were swollen and all red and his skin looked oily; the room smelled filthy. She went to the window and opened it.
"My little nurse," her father muttered, watching her.
"I'm late for school," she said.
"Never mind school."
Marsha's eyes went wide. "Never mind school?"
"Don't go to school today. Stay here with me. You helped me last night. So much. Just like your mother used to do. You were good to me, Marsha. Real good."
Marsha blushed slightly. She wondered if he was referring to the fuck.
"The way you fed me that broth. How did you get me onto the bed all by yourself? Christ, I can't remember a thing!"
Marsha breathed more easily then. "I'll get you some coffee," she muttered.
"Good girl," her dad said.
She was back in a few minutes with two cups of coffee. She sat on the edge of the bed and joined him. He asked about Ernie and she told him he was out like a light on the living room sofa. She had seen him there, out cold, still in his clothes, the empty bottles on the floor.
Ralph drank large mouthfuls of the good coffee and kept glancing at his daughter. It made Marsha self-conscious and she searched for something to say.
"I can't believe you want me to skip school. The last time I played hooky, you beat me."
Her father winced and stared into his cup. "Sorry about that, Marsha. Really. Things are different now. I see things differently now." His eyes lifted and he peered into hers. "I've been rotten to you, haven't I? Forgive me, baby. I was drunk. I wouldn't have done those things. You know that, don't you? Don't you, Marsha? You're my daughter! A man wouldn't hurt his own daughter, would he? It was the booze, honey. Just the booze."
He gave his head a shake as if to loosen the cobwebs in his brain. His tongue, sticky white, slipped across his dry lips. He averted her open and innocent gaze.
"I've been rotten," he murmured, gripping his cup tensely. "Lousy. A bastard. Can you ever forgive me?"
His remarks put Marsha in an uncomfortable, emotional state. He sounded so repentant, so sincere. Her heart went out to him.
"Oh, Daddy," she sobbed, tears coming into her eyes, "you're so different today! You, you, ohhh, you seem like you used to be when Mom was alive. It is the whiskey, Daddy, it is! You're so different when you're drunk. Oh, here, let me get you some more coffee!"
She took his cup and hers and ran from the room. She cried softly in the kitchen. The tears she shed were tears of relief and happiness. Her father seemed so much better now, so sober, so kind and caring!
She wiped her tears away and carried the cups back to his room. He was sitting up now, looking much better. He smiled at her and accepted the cup she offered.
"God, you've been good to me," he rasped. "How could I abuse you? I must be nuts. My pretty, lovely, sweet girl. I'll make it up to you, Marsha. You'll see."
Her emotional condition made her prattle. Breathless with wonder and excitement, she blurted, "Oh, Daddy, this is the way I thought it would be! I mean, after Mom died, I, well, I thought I could take care of you. I wanted to do the housework for you and fix your breakfast and bring you coffee in bed, like this. But…"
He reached over and patted her arm. "There, there, honey, never mind. It's all my fault. I guess your mother's death really rattled me. I lost control. But things will be different now. Trust me."
"Oh, I do!" the happy girl exclaimed. "I know you're a good man. I know you wouldn't have done all those horrible things to me if you hadn't been drunk. Ohhh, Daddy, I'm so happy I could cry."
"You've done enough crying," her father said, stroking her arm. "And it's all my fault. But I'm gonna make it up to you, starting right now. How would you like to spend the day out with me? We could go to that amusement park. Maybe a movie. Or even two!"
Marsha thought she'd burst with excitement now. "Oh, Daddy!" she squealed. No other words would come. So she threw herself on her dad and hugged him tightly.
Ralph felt her hard tits against his chest and almost grabbed her ass. But he restrained himself. He took her by the shoulders and eased her back away from him.
Smiling, he said, "Why don't you go and put on that new dress you got? The blue one."
"Okay!" Marsha bubbled, and she leapt to her feet. Ralph watched her cute little ass twitch as she pranced to the door.
"Honey?" he said.
Marsha turned in the doorway and looked at him. Her eyes were bright. Her pointed tits rose and fell cutely.
Her father's eyes ran up and down her luscious body and he grinned. "Don't wear anything under the dress."
Marsha's mouth fell open and her heart skipped. "Daddy!" she gasped.
He chuckled and said, "That won't hurt anything, will it? I know you go without undies sometimes – even to school. Now don't look so shocked. I know how girls are. Just the other day you stooped over on the lawn on your way out and the breeze lifted the back of your dress. I saw you naked."
"Daddy!" she gasped again.
"Well, don't blame me!" he laughed, "it was you who went without panties. I just looked."
"Well, you shouldn't!"
"Okay, okay," he chuckled. "I give up. You're right. I shouldn't. Now go ahead and put that special little dress on."
Marsha stepped back into his room slowly, looking puzzled and a little wary. She narrowed her eyes at him and asked, "Why don't you want me to wear undies?"
Ralph raised his hands in self-defense. "Hey! Don't get so tough! I'm not up to anything. I swear. I promise not to touch you. That's not what I'm trying to do. Trust me, Marsha."
"Then why can't I wear undies?" she pressed, suspicious of him.
He licked his lips nervously and avoided her gaze. He sighed then and said, "Come here a minute, honey. Sit here and let's have a heart to heart talk for a change."
Marsha slowly approached the bed. Her father grinned and said, "Come on. Don't be chicken. I promised you I wouldn't touch you, and I won't. See? I'll keep my hands under the sheets."
With that movement and promise from him, she perched her ass on the edge of the bed and waited for him to talk. He chose his words carefully.
"Try to understand something, honey," he began. "You're a very pretty girl. It's hard to… You've grown up so fast. Sometimes you look like one of those peachy chicks in the magazines – especially in your bikini."
Marsha's face flushed but not with embarrassment. Her bedroom mirror often told her exactly the same thing. To hear him saying it thrilled her and deep in her heart she loved to hear it. Since she didn't have any boyfriends to admire her, any male admiration was lovely to her.
Even so, she concealed her warmth and appreciation. "You shouldn't say things like that to me."
"I know, baby," her father agreed, looking pained about it. "I can't help it. Hell, you live right here with me. I see you in your nightie going to the bathroom. I see you at the breakfast table in your sexy little school clothes. And your body is so developed. You're so beautiful and luscious and exciting. Oh, I know a father shouldn't put it quite like that, but damn it, Marsha, you're an eyeful!"
A tremor of excitement rushed through Marsha's pussy and she swallowed hard. How she ached to hear a boy say things like this to her! How good it was to be admired, appreciated, even desired!
But she couldn't let her dad know what she was feeling in her tits and cunt. She looked at him sternly. "I wish you wouldn't talk that way."
He looked properly chastised. "I know, honey," he said contritely. "You're a good girl. I just want you to understand how it is with a man. Let me put it this way. I promise not to touch you ever again. That was rotten of me. You helped me so much last night. And today with you feels so good. But you are a sexy little thing. You must know that. You do, don't you?"
"Well – yes, I guess so."
"Of course you do. Men must whistle at you on the street. Boys must go crazy over you. I know you drive me nuts, that's for sure! But, all I'm saying is, wear your dress for me without undies so I can at least think about you naked. It would give me great pleasure just to know you have nothing on under the dress. That's all. And I won't talk about it again. I just wanted you to understand how it is between a man and a pretty girl like you. You can do that for me, can't you?"
"And you won't touch me?" Marsha tested.
"Right."
She mulled it over for a second, then got to her feet. "Okay," she said. "I guess that won't hurt anything."
"Good girl," her father encouraged her.
Marsha went into the bathroom and washed up. When she came out, her father went in. He showered and shaved and got into clean clothes. When he stepped into the living room, Marsha was ready.
She looked delicious in her short blue dress, so tight across her pointed tits. It pleased him to know she was absolutely naked underneath it.
Marsha averted his gaze and muttered, "Would you like me to fix you some breakfast?"
He smiled at her, glancing at her tits. "No. Let's go out and eat."
Right from the start, Marsha tested her father's sincerity. When she got into the car beside him, she deliberately leaned over so he could see the tops of her lovely tits. She wanted to see if he would break his promise and say something or touch her. He didn't.
It was hard for her to fully relax around him. She could feel her nipples press hard against the soft fabric of her tight dress and she was very conscious of being naked under it. When a breeze blew, she could feel it swish round her pussy and ass. She was always aware that her dress could flip up any minute and give her dad a look at her nakedness.
She didn't really relax with him until much later, after many tests of his sincerity. They went to the amusement park first and there she subtly and cleverly cock teased him, just to see what he would do. Getting on the Ferris wheel, she let him peek under her dress, knowing full well that he could see her naked, round ass before she sat down. During the ride, she glanced at him to see how he was taking it. He seemed normal and there was no bulge in his lap.
In the tunnel of love, she sat close to him in the darkness. Her heart raced slightly because this was a dangerous place to be with a man like her dad. He could easily take her into his arms and run a big finger right up her cunt. But he didn't. He didn't even touch her. When the light came at the end of the tunnel, he helped her out of the boat like a gentleman and Marsha felt happy.
Then she started to relax near him, realizing that he was keeping his word. He took her on lots of rides and she started feeling happy again. He bought her candy and soda and won some small prizes for her in the gaining booths. By two in the afternoon Marsha was smiling brightly and feeling delirious, giggling often.
After the park, they went to a matinee in town. Her father asked her what she'd like to go see and she picked a R-rated movie. In the theater he bought her popcorn and more soda. During the movie Marsha grew a little warm. For an R-rated movie, it sure was sexy!
Halfway through the picture, she dropped the empty popcorn box on the floor, along with the drained soda carton. She snuggled into her chair and watched the torrid scene on the screen as the beautiful actress exposed her luscious, creamy tits for a handsome man who had just entered, her apartment to rob it.
Marsha glanced at her father. His eyes were riveted to the screen. He looked totally absorbed in the movie, as if she weren't even there with him. She licked her lips and nibbled her lower one for a second. Then she leaned over and touched his shoulder.
Ralph bent his ear to her and she whispered, "You can put your arm around me, you know. There's nothing wrong with a father putting his arm around his daughter."
He slipped his arm across the back of her chair then onto her shoulders. Marsha leaned against him and fastened her eyes on the screen. She was profoundly aware of his hand against her upper arm. It felt warm. She sighed peacefully and watched the movie, proud of him. He kept his hand right there all the while, even though her rising and falling tit was right next to his fingers.
When they left the theater, Marsha was quite impressed with her father. He was like a different person. He was so kind and considerate, so gentle and caring. As they drove home she wondered if he knew how different he was sober.
She got lost in her thoughts during the ride. Gazing unseeingly out the window she realized that her father was a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. When he was drunk the beast came out in him. And what a beast! She trembled to recall how violently he had raped her, the way he had fucked her so brutally and the savagery of his lust.
She cupped her chin in her hand and wondered what it would be like to make love to him now when he was sober. She immediately hated herself for such a thought, but she couldn't suppress the slight thrill that passed through her pussy.
"Did you like the movie?" her father asked. His voice startled her and she blushed, as if he had caught her fingerfucking herself or something.
"Uhh, yes," she murmured.
He looked at her and smiled. "What are you thinking so hard about?"
"Nothing."
He gazed at her. Her face was turned away, so he let his eyes roam over her soft hair and thrusting tits and naked thighs. Her dress was high up on her pretty legs and it took every ounce of his resolve to keep from reaching out and petting the cute pussy he knew was just under the edge of her dress. He swallowed hard and forced his eyes back on the road.
Marsha felt a tension in her body which she didn't understand at first. Then she realized she was tense because they were nearing the house. Ernie would be at work. She would be alone with her father again. What would happen? Was he really repentant? Was he sincere? She worried about it.
But when they got home, her father stretched and yawned. "I'm beat, honey. Still hung over. I need some rest. I think I'll take a nap."
Marsha watched him move toward his room. "Okay," she murmured.
She stood in the living room for a long time without moving. She heard his bed creak, heard him turn a few times. He hadn't even gone after the many bottles he had stashed around the house. He really did go to bed. The tension began to leave her body.
She sauntered to his door and gazed at him on the bed. He looked almost handsome in his clean clothes. He certainly looked peaceful with his eyes closed. Gentle, too.
"Daddy?"
"Hmmm?"
"I'm gonna go out for a while. Okay?"
It was another test, and she knew it. Ordinarily he would rant and rave about her going out around horny boys and stuff like that.
"Sure, honey, go ahead," he muttered. "Have fun. Wake me up when you get back and we'll have dinner together."
She stood there for long moments, dazed. Finally, she moved away and left the house. On the street a wave of tremendous relief washed over her and a big smile crossed her pretty face. Her tits were excited and she started bouncing down the street, walking briskly, her cute ass twitching happily. She felt like a new person – free, warm, at peace with herself and the world.
She felt that her life was finally beginning to shine.