It all started eighteen years ago. Momma had died and left Daddy and I alone. At first, Daddy wanted nothing to do with me. He said I reminded him too...much of Momma, he couldn't even stand looking at me. This hurt so bad, but I understood and tried to stay away but couldn't. He was in such a state of depression that I thought he'd do something drastic. I cared for him, foregoing the plans I had for myself to stay with Daddy and take care him.After a while he excepted the way things were. He let. His hands, encouraged by my sighs and content smile, grew bolder, lifting my turtleneck and caressing the exposed strip of flesh right above my jeans, teasing my sides and dipping lower, below the waistband to play with my belly button. He must have been getting uncomfortable in his position; he was bent over the edge of the chair to reach down to my lap. Grasping my sides, he pulled me up, and I stood in front of him. Holding me from the back, he continued his exploration, reaching up to my. More

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