The Cessna cleared the land. Deep blue water rushed under us in a blur of sparkles from the late afternoon sun as I dialled back the revs. Blue green pine forests streaked past the windows on either side.

"Straight ahead, Dad."

"I see it, Kacy."

Pontoons hit the water with a solid thump, the Cessna bouncing with a slight side to side motion before settling, carving a frothy path towards the green verdant shore. As I cut the engine silence stormed in, almost deafening it was so quiet. I involuntarily tried to clear my ears.

"Do you think it'll still be livable, Dad?"

"No idea. I guess we'll find out, huh?"

The crunch of pontoons grinding on the pebbly shore announced our arrival. We'd flown from Anchorage to Amanka Lake in less than two hours. But it felt like much longer, we'd been buffeted by headwinds the whole way making it a taxing and bumpy flight. My hip ached.

Kacy scrambled out of the plane while I ran through my post flight checks; magneto off, gas line closed, switches in the off position, and all the small things that needed attention to ensure she'd start up when it was time to return.

As I clambered out, Kacy was waiting for me. She was the light of my life; my only family left. At twelve she'd blossomed, her face gaining character as it left childhood behind and strove towards maturity, her light gray eyes were always bright and she had a ready smile on her face. She reminded me of a young Charlize Theron, and her mother; her light blonde hair falling straight to her shoulders in an inward curve with darker roots. She certainly had the same mouth, bow shaped with a full lower lip below a narrow nose, and an attractive angular jaw line.

But as she waited for me, the brightness in her eyes was missing. Something had been bothering her recently.

"Come on," I said holding out my hand to her. "Let's go see what shape it's in."

Kacy took her dad's hand. His sadness hurt so much. She could see it in his warm brown eyes, a flit of ever-present sorrow darkening them. This had been her idea, a desperate act to find Dad. She'd suggested returning to the cabin for a few days; a chance to escape from memories that still plagued her. But those memories haunted Dad more and she felt her heart ache whenever she'd see him sitting quietly staring into a void. She ached too, but more for Dad.

She let Dad lead, watching the trace of a limp as they climbed the steep path into the tree line, following an overgrown path barely visible even in the daylight. The scent of pine brought back memories of laughter and fun, of rain dripping and fog occasionally rolling through like ghosts of the forest; of happier times. She prayed Dad would remember them here.

As she followed up the incline she though back to the event that had scarred so deeply. Mom had been such a big personality, filling a room despite her diminutive stature. She was blustery and outgoing, only happy when everyone else was. Mom and Dad made a handsome couple. At thirty-three, he was still handsome, five-nine, slim, with a lean face and dusty blond hair. But his eyes, when they weren't sad or haunted, were magnetic pools of warmth. One could love him for his eyes alone. She smiled, she did; it was an ache inside her heart.

It had been an evening out, one of those romantic dinners that her parents took every so often, dinners that reinforced their bond to each other. She'd been jealous of her parent's love, their little cuddles, kisses, hugs. She'd hoped one day she'd find someone just like Dad, someone that would adore her that much. Mom was the designated driver that night. It was a clear night, warm, mid-spring. It was the truck driver who was intoxicated, who killed Mom, who put Dad into a coma with a smashed hip and gave him his head injuries. It was the truck driver that shattered their lives and stole Dad away. Over the last two years he smiled and hugged, he helped, he devoted himself to her. But Dad was only half there, shadows haunted his eyes. She wanted him all the way back, desperately.

"Hey, look Kacy." The cabin was still standing.

It wasn't that large but it was a traditional log cabin built to withstand anything. It had been in the family for years, had seen happy times. I remembered being young, the excitement of being so isolated, of cooking on a wood fired stove, and the spooky ghost stories. I felt a twinge of pain remembering Cathy and I here, our getaways, "let's dump society," she'd said and we'd spend a week together, alone, isolated, cocooned in our own little universe.

Shaking off the gloominess, I turned to Kacy. "So. What do you think? Shall we look inside or head back?"

She grinned. "Inside."

My daughter made my heart ache. She was Cathy, just smaller, different in subtle ways. She was as kind and considerate as her mother had been but, when she got a head of steam up, her anger was funny; I just couldn't take it seriously. I loved her, she was my daughter. But every time I looked at her, I saw the shadow of Cathy in her beautiful gray eyes; she had the same look, one that promised depths you could spend a lifetime exploring and never reach the depths.

"Dad, you'll have to force it. The door's stuck."

I threw my shoulder at the door and fell inside, sprawling in the accumulated dust. Kacy helped. She laughed hard in the doorway as I sneezed, sneezed again and rose to my knees, a thick cloud of dust rising.

"My big agile hero," Kacy said with laughter. Dad was funny splayed out on the floor. She couldn't help laughing harder when he started sneezing, his whole body shaking, dust rising in a cloud with each sneeze.

"This place is a disaster, Kacy." I pointed at the closet, grinning, "Broom, sweep, make house! I'll get the luggage."

Her grin was so much like Cathy's, bright and mischievous at the same time. When I saw a tiny sparkle in her eyes I felt something inside shift. I suddenly realized how long it had been missing, how much I missed that sparkle. Perhaps coming here was a good idea after all.

"Dad, don't forget my backpack, okay? It's behind the front seat."

As Kacy started the laborious job of cleaning five years of collected dust, her mind wandered again, painful memories stealing in. She remembered the policemen at her door; ten years old and afraid to open the door at night. They'd looked so serious and scared the hell out of her when they told her her parents had been in an accident. She couldn't remember how she got to the hospital, only Dad on a bed with tubes and bandages, machines making unusual noises, and Jenny Marcus from next door rushing in, "Oh Kacy, honey," and hugging her.

She'd stayed with Mrs. Marcus for three months, refusing to go to school, spending every day in the hospital holding Dad's hand, praying, "Dad, please wake up, please. I need you," quiet tears moistening her cheeks that she'd brush away with her sleeve. She smiled remembering how Jenny had fussed so much over her losing weight, had hugged her at night, "He'll be okay, Honey," and her utter kindness in driving to the hospital every day.

Somehow, her worry about losing Dad had eased the pain of losing mMom, distracting her. By the time Dad came out of his coma, she'd become accustom to Mom being gone; it still hurt, but not as much as her fear of now losing Dad.

She'd been there when he stirred, his eyes opening, "Kacy?" and burst into tears. Dad was awake!

Two years ago, it had been so hard.

"Kacy, don't just stand there! You have to move the broom!" She looked like a lost soul for a moment. I wondered where she'd gone. Her sudden aggressive sweeping did nothing but stir up dust. "Hold on. Stop Kacy!"

"What?"

"We've got to throw some dirt down or all you'll do is stir up dust. Come on out and let it settle."

I tossed dirt over the floor and left until dust settled.

We were sitting on the porch, legs hanging over the side, late afternoon sun casting beams through the pines, and the ground sloping away from us at a reasonably steep angle, when Kacy broke the silence.

"Dad, why did we stop coming here?"

"Good question. I guess we got busy with life. It's not a simple trip to get here."

"But didn't you want to come back?"

"Sure. Busy, you know."

"It's good to be back, Dad."

Kacy leaned against Dad, her head on his shoulder, smiling when he wrapped an arm around her. Listening to the quiet, the small sounds of the forest, branches rustling and birds calling, she thought back over the past two years. Dad's rehab had been hard. She'd wanted to stay close to him, to hold on to him. She'd screamed at him when he'd insisted she go to school, "How will you manage, Dad? I HAVE to help. I won't go!" The truth was, she was scared of leaving him. Those first nine months had been Hell. She hated Dad for not understanding, for being so stubborn, and hated him even more when he told her they were moving. She was so mean to him. Why did they have to move? Mom was here!

She smiled. She'd been a real brat. But it was fear making her behave that way. Every day she was scared she'd lose Dad somehow, he wouldn't be there after school, or never come home from shopping. When they finally settled in L.A., life slowly returned to normal. But Dad was different, something was missing. He tried, but something had been lost. He started working from home to take care of her.

The change in her happened gradually, culminating on her twelfth birthday.

When she'd turned eleven she suddenly started recognizing how hard Dad was trying, his small actions, like buying her the pair of jeans she'd talked about only once and presenting them to her after school with a proud smile, the series of clues he'd created for her birthday, having to interpret each clue, find another, and on and on until she found her present, the cell phone she'd wanted so much.

She remembered his smile, trying so hard to make her happy, his eyes so worried about her. As the year passed, despite the shadows in his eyes, she forgot about being a brat, about losing Dad. She started enjoying him, laughing and relaxing. But it was her twelfth birthday. Dad had bar-b-cued for her and her friends, given her an iPad and hugged her tight when she squealed in delight and threw herself at him. It was his whisper, "I love you, Kacy," and one other thing. She'd gotten out of bed that night to get a glass of milk when she saw Dad sitting in the den, in the dark, staring into space with tears glittering in his eyes. She stood silently watching him. It was a tectonic shift inside her. God I love him, she'd thought. Her heart ached at his sadness. Her heart ached at how devoted he was to her, how hard he tried. God I love him.

At that moment, that exact moment, she knew she'd be the one to chase those shadows away. She knew, just knew. Without saying a word, she put her glass down and went to Dad, sitting on his lap and cuddling into him. God I love him.

She'd been the one to insist on this trip, a getaway from everyday life and hopefully a break with the past.

"I'm going to sweep, Dad."

"Need help?"

"Jeez, like what, Dad? Directing me? There's only one broom."

I liked her grin; it brought a sparkle briefly to her gray eyes. She'd had it tough over the last couple of years. I'd tried to do my best to help her, but the first year had been pure Hell. I'd never seen her so angry, so often. It seemed anything I did set her off.

I had decided to move so she wouldn't be reminded of her mother every day in every part of our house. Jesus, she'd exploded when I told her. Her temper, even at ten, was worse than her mothers, "I'm NOT going! You go. I'm staying here!" her face radiating fury at me.

I'd tried hard to make Kacy smile, doing everything in my power to bring my little girl back, help her recover. Something in her changed when she was eleven. She started smiling and having fun again. The acute wit returned; my baby girl slowly emerged.

"Hey! Don't just stand there Dad. Jeez, get wood and stuff. I'll be hungry after all this slave labour!"

Her grin was heart-warming. "Clean woman," I instructed pointing at a missed spot and dodging her attempt at hitting me with the broom.

Occasionally Kacy could see the old Dad peek through, like just then. Maybe coming to the cabin would work. She thought back to her twelfth birthday, how she'd gone to bed and gently started caressing herself imagining Dad touching her, his warm brown eyes, his whisper, "I love you Kacy," and how she'd felt moisture, using her finger to draw it up, caressing her clit, her pelvis undulating and, shaking, crying out silently, "Dad, God Dad," as her climax blossomed and surged, pleasure coursing through her. It grew from there. Dad's hugs made her feel attractive, sexy and aroused her. Sitting next to him on the couch with a hand on his leg made her imagine what it might be like, what it might be like if he was more than just Dad and she more than just his daughter.

She remembered the secret thrill of brushing a hard, aching nipple against Dad's side, dreaming of Dad pausing, looking down at her, bending, kissing her like a lover; how she'd masturbated furiously that night. And how she'd sat in Dad's lap, wondering what his penis would look like, how it might feel under her, how big it might be, was he circumcised? She'd slipped her hand under her panties that night, caressing her cleft spreading her moisture then tried pushing the tip of her finger inside, imagining it was Dad's erection.

She remembered sitting next to Dad with her hand surreptitiously between her legs, rubbing her jeans gently, slowly, feeling the tingle of arousal at the idea of Dad caressing her, kissing her, telling her he wanted her too, her daydream making her panties wet.

Hearing Dad banging around out back brought her out of her reverie. She blushed when she felt that all too familiar dampness. Squeezing her thighs she enjoyed the brief flare of arousal before starting sweeping again.

As I hauled out old wood from the storage shed I couldn't help enjoying being back. The cabin was rustic but Dad had been such a tinkerer. He'd laid pipe to draw fresh, cold, clear water into a holding tank from the stream, feeding the single tap in the kitchen and the sink and flush toilet in the bathroom. Warm water was still a pot on the stove but his clever piping really made the cold box almost as good as a refrigerator; it kept foods cool enough we wouldn't have to go back for more on this two week stay.

With an armload of wood I started the stove. It still got quite cool at nights this far north. At the sound of a dainty sneeze from behind me, I smiled then frowned. A hint of shame fled though me. While I tried to brush it off as too long without female companionship, it really was no excuse. I'd always loved Kacy with a fierce protectiveness only a father can know. But she started to change when she turned eleven. I hadn't noticed until she told me she had her first period, eleven and a half.

For some reason I became aware of the wonders of Mother Nature, the slight bumps announcing pubescence's arrival and the growth spurt that lifted her out of her awkward stage. It was her twelfth birthday, though. When I'd hugged her, pulling her off her feet and kissing her neck, I was hit by an aroma of female, not little girl. I'd felt her small breasts against my chest distinctly and it shocked me. Kacy, my little girl was becoming a lady. Watching her talking with her friends I realized she was far more mature than I'd perceived. Her articulateness, the confidence she showed, and movements that now held grace were a surprise. Kacy was gorgeous and I was so proud of her. But, much later that night, I couldn't help tears as I wished Cathy could have seen her, how proud she'd have been at how spectacular her daughter had become.

I felt ashamed at how attractive Kacy was to me and how I noticed the differences between her and Cathy. Kacy was more understated, had a more subtle wit and a much fiercer temper; I found it quite endearing, even attractive. But my physical reaction to feeling her aroused nipple brush against me astonished me. Suddenly all the simple things that I'd never thought twice about came into sharp focus; her hand on my leg felt warmer, Kacy sitting on my lap felt different. I saw Kacy through new eyes and it disturbed me. Kacy wasn't a small Cathy, she was Kacy. It shamed me, my reaction.

"I've got the stove going. Are you done yet?" I asked.

"Almost Dad. Just finishing the bedroom."

Unpacking our food supplies I decided I'd give Kacy the bedroom. She usually slept on the couch, but that was back when Cathy was with us. The idea of that empty bed and the loneliness and memories it might bring didn't appeal.

Kacy looked at Dad as they ate in the yellow light cast off from the kerosene lamp. Semi-darkness made him look so handsome, shadows emphasizing the planes of his face and hiding the shadows in his eyes. She heard the thump of her heart, loud in the silence. She wondered if he knew. A flush of heat blossomed along with a twinge of arousal as she remembered seeing Dad in shadowed light just like that. Light's off in the den, moonlight had shown those same angles and planes of his face before she lay on the couch. In her pajamas cuddled tight to Dad behind her while the movie played, she'd dreamed of taking his hand and slipping it down inside her pajama bottoms. Her hand had slowly slipped to her crotch as she dreamed of Dad touching her there. Slipping her hand inside her pajamas and panties she caressed her clit slowly, slipping her fingers through her cleft to gather moisture, her new pubic hair tickling her palm. She'd rubbed slowly so Dad wouldn't notice. As she had dreamed of Dad slipping his finger into her pussy, touching her, making her feel good, loving her, she climaxed, gasping and jerking uncontrollably.

Kacy blushed at the memory, embarrassed at how risky it had been.

"Honey, you okay? You look flushed."

"Yeah, Dad." Did he know? "Just remembering the movie we watched last week."

I remembered it. It was surprisingly scary, even for me. The best part was having Kacy in my arms, cuddled in front of me as we lay together. I'd been surprised when she gasped and jerked; although Paranormal Activity did startle me in a couple of places, it hadn't at that point.

"It scared you, if I remember," I said.

"Dad, you should take the bedroom." She was rinsing the dishes, the cabin had warmed up nicely and she felt full and pleasantly tired from the trip. But Dad should take the bed. Besides, she was used to the couch.

"No thanks, Kacy. Take the bed," I insisted.

Kacy woke me with a gentle shake of the shoulder. In the moonlight she looked like an angel. I groaned as I shifted, a hot stab of pain lancing though my hip. It had never fully recovered, although I mostly had full motion. It pained me when I was tired, or slept in the wrong position.

Lucy had heard Dad groaning in his sleep as he tossed and moved on the couch. She'd known he'd have a hard time with his hip on that couch. The stubborn twit.

"Dad, get up. Come sleep in the bed. You'll be useless tomorrow if you stay here."

Kacy was right. A night of this and I'd be in pain tomorrow. I let her lead me by the hand to the bedroom, moonlight filtering in playing softly on her back, her bottom gently swaying under a large t-shirt.

Consciousness returned slowly, morning light turning the log walls amber. She sighed when she felt Dad cuddled up behind her, his thighs curled up against her, his strong arms around her. Laying in Dad's arms she let her imagination take flight, imagining him stir, lean over and kiss her gently on her cheek, "Morning gorgeous," he'd whisper, his hand slipping up from her tummy to cup an aching small breast, one of the new ones she was so proud of. She'd purr as Dad caressed her gently, finding her aching nipple and push her bottom back against him trying to feel him. She felt a tickle of arousal, nipples tingling and a warm flush between her legs as she imagined finally feeling Dad's erection against her bottom; Dad excited by her, aroused by her; Dad wanting her.

As she gently ran her hand along Dad's arm, she imagined reaching behind her to feel him, how large and warm he would be in her hand. She felt dampness leak into the gusset of her panties as she wondered what Dad's penis might look like in real life. Would it be thick? Long? What would it feel like in her hand?

Quietly she slipped from his arms, snuck out of bed, shivering in the morning coolness and closed the bathroom door. Sitting on the toilet, panties at her ankles, she let her imagination take flight again, a finger tracing her cleft, probing, touching, caressing, thinking of Dad, Dad, Dad, oh Daddy!

The sound of a pot hitting the floor woke me.

"Everything okay?" I yelled.

I felt good, really good, well rested. I'd woken up once in the night with my hand on Kacy's soft stomach as she lay on her back, feeling the gentle movement of her breathing, warm, so alive. But when I'd raised my head to look at her she stole my breath away. To me, Kacy was beautiful, truly beautiful. Long thick eyelashes rested on her cheeks. Her nostrils flared slightly with every soft breath, and the shadows cast by moonlight made her mouth sensuous.

I thought of caressing her cheek, and quickly removed my hand and turned away when the thought of kissing those lips, what would they feel like, whispered enticingly through my mind.

"Dad! Get up! How the hell do you get this stove hot?"

"Language, young lady!"

I dressed quickly, mornings quite chilly.

"So, what would you like to do today?" I was mopping up yolk with crusty French bread. Kacy was quite an accomplished cook for a twelve year old. She grinned. God I loved that grin.

"Be manly, Dad. Fish for dinner."

"So you're going to be womanly and clean up?" I asked cheekily.

She laughed. "Nope, your turn. I did the cleaning last night, remember? Besides, I'm going to fish too. Someone needs to show you how."

Sitting on the shore, casting and reeling in the warm rays of a summer sun felt good. I was relaxed, finally feeling free of city life as I drank in the sight of the calm lake, sun sparkling and dancing on tiny wavelets and the scent of pine everywhere. Yes, Kacy had been right; coming here was the best thing we'd done for quite a while.

"Hey! I got one! Dinner Kacy. It feels like dinner!" i yelled as my rod jerked. I wrestled with the fishing rod, reeling the line in, caught up in the excitement of self sufficiency. It was quite a shock when I jerked up the rod. A four inch fish wiggled on the hook. It had felt much larger. Kacy's peal of laughter made me turn and grin. I felt a bit like a goof.

Dad's look of surprise was a hoot! He'd announced dinner with such pride. He looked so handsome in cut-offs and no shirt, his light chest hair and wiry muscles. But God, when he turned and grinned, Dad was back! That sparkle in his warm eyes! Dad was back! She felt a huge pressure inside her chest, painful pressure, God I love him. A wave of feeling almost overwhelmed her, tears prickling her eyes.

As they cooked dinner she felt sort of glad they'd not caught any fish. She really didn't like fish.

"Have you ever caught fish in this lake, Dad?" She had to reach around him to get to the pot of boiling water to dump a handful of pasta in. He was like a damn octopus, his hands everywhere and body moving around, obstructing her every move.

"Nope. Never caught a damn thing in that lake. But your granddad did all the time. Of course he took the boat out to the deep part." I rather liked thwarting Kacy's efforts to reach around me for the pasta pot, moving my body and reaching for things I didn't need.

"Jeez Dad, get out of the way!" When Dad turned and grinned impishly at her, his eyes glinting without shadows, despite laughing at his antics and shoving him out of the way with her hip, her heart constricted; oh yes! Dad was back!

I stirred the canned pasta sauce, sniffing it, wondering if I should add more garlic.

"Daaaad!!"

Kacy's scream made me jump and brought me running. I tore open the bathroom door and inhaled sharply. Kacy was crouching on the toilet, feet on the toilet seat, jeans and panties around her ankles. She noticed my sharp gasp, looked down, blushed bright red and covered her crotch with her hands.

"Mouse!" she squeaked through her embarrassment.

I averted my eyes while looking for the intruder.

"It's gone, Kacy. Probably more scared of you than you are of it," I said, turning and going to check on the pasta and serve dinner.

"Sorry honey. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I thought something was wrong." I took another forkful of pasta, feeling embarrassed, not able to dismiss the sight of my little girl's pussy from my mind.

Kacy smiled at Dad's blush as he bent his head to his plate of spaghetti. It looked so cute on him; something she'd never seen before. She hadn't realised her condition in her fear. The shock of seeing a mouse scurry along the wall was too much. But she'd felt heat in her face when she realized Dad had seen her pussy.

"It's okay, Dad. My fault. Can you put down a trap or something?"

At bed time, before Dad could settle on the couch, she took his hand and led him into the bedroom without saying a word. This time, instead of laying apart, she cuddled against him right from the start, her head on his shoulder, inhaling his sexy male scent, shivering slightly. I'm in bed with Dad! With Dad!

"I'm glad we came, Dad," she said softy with a sigh, cuddling closer to his side.

Dad gently wrapped an arm around her. She smiled, at peace.

"So am I, Sweetheart."

As she drifted to sleep cuddled to Dad, she relaxed, completely at peace. She wondered if he'd like the Father's Day present she'd saved to buy for him. She hoped so. Nestling into his side she let sleep creep in.

I had a very disturbed sleep and was glad when the sun rose on Saturday. Sliding out of bed I looked at Kacy. I felt a tug at my heart at the sight of my daughter, curled up on her side, hair mussed and the sweet, beautiful innocence of her face. I felt guilty too.

Brushing my teeth, I felt worse. I'd dreamed of my daughter's pubis. It had been a surprise, although goodness knows why, when I saw Kacy had pubic hair. I'd dreamed of the delicate dusting of almost blond hair, so new they were uncurled, so attractive. I'd never seen anything like it, Cathy's had been thick and tightly curled.

I felt bad about the inappropriateness of my dream, my reaction, the distinct thickness and arousal I'd dreamed of feeling as the slow motion scene played over and over, how different my daughter' pudendum was from Cathy's, seemingly petite but bigger on her slender body, no inner labia, a firmly closed cleft.

Yet as I brushed my teeth with unnecessary firmness, when Kacy entered the bathroom, "Morning Dad," and giving me a sweet bright smile, charming me with sparkling eyes, I forgot my discomfort and chastised myself. Kacy was my daughter. My job as a father was to nurture her, help her grow and bloom into the incredible woman she was promising up to be. I felt better.

"Hey, Honey. Sleep well?"

"Like a baby, Dad."

Saturday was pure fun. I delighted in Kacy's enthusiastic effort to swim, making it as far as a toe dipped into arctic cold water before screeching and jumping back.

"Shit... Oops. Shoot, its freezing, Dad!"

She looked fine in her bikini, moving with surprising speed and grace as I chased her, splashing me proved the lake water was very cold indeed, raising goosebumps. I admired how pubescence was adding shape to her rear, slimming her waist, and my girl had actual breasts, small, but noticeable. She looked spectacularly pretty in her early pubescence, a little nymph. I was going to have to beat off boys with a baseball bat, I thought with pride and apprehension.

Dinner was fine and we had a spirited conversation. My insistence that jeans were just jeans and not some statement to the world about your coolness fell on deaf ears; "Dad, you're so not, you know?" she laughed. No, I didn't.

But Kacy didn't have to lead me to the bedroom when we went to bed. In fact, I liked having someone in my bed again after so long, even if it was my daughter.

Kacy lay with her head on Dad's shoulder thinking back over the day. Yes, Dad was back, all of Dad, no shadows in his eyes. They were the magnetic warm brown eyes she remembered, those loveable eyes, soft, eyes that captured her. He'd smiled with genuine joy, laughed without restraint. Yes, Dad was back. And tomorrow was Father's Day.

I was semi conscious of hugging Kacy to me through the night, wrapping her small body in my arms, pulling her closer, enjoying her warmth and aroma. I could feel the smile on my face. My drams were sweet. I was happy.

Kacy snuck out of bed early. Quietly she made breakfast; cereal, fresh fruit, coffee and juice, and the small package from her back pack.

Gently she put the tray on the bed, walked to the side, leaned over and kissed Dad gently on the cheek, inhaling deeply to fill her senses with his musky, male scent.

"Morning Dad. Happy Father's Day," she said softly.

Soft, soft lips woke me. A soft sweet voice spoke gently. I opened my eyes and beheld my angel, smiling and excited, eyes sparkling with pleasure.

"I've brought you breakfast, Dad."

"Breakfast? In bed?"

Kacy felt that familiar flush of love when Dad smiled, held out his arms and hugged her. She held him tight, my Dad, I love you so much, she thought.

I loved hugging Kacy. I loved her thoughtfulness. Breakfast in bed was such a pleasant surprise. But most of all i loved Kacy's blush as I sat up and let her go. She handed me the breakfast tray she'd obviously prepared carefully. I noticed a small wrapped package on the tray and looked at her.

"It's for you, Dad."

Kacy had saved for the watch. It wasn't much, but Dad kept breaking his, muttering about useless garbage as he'd toss them out, and over time had started buying cheaper and cheaper replacements. This one, she'd been assured by the store clerk, was virtually indestructible, Swiss, too.

Opening the small gift-wrapped package I inhaled sharply. Good Lord! That must be a two hundred dollar watch! Where did Kacy get the money for it?

"Kacy, Kacy honey, it's amazing! Come here." w wave of love hit. Putting the tray aside I hugged my thoughtful daughter tightly. How she knew I needed a watch was beyond me.

"Thank you, I can't believe you did this." I kissed her on her cheek. Then, as she sat on the edge of the bed I reached down to the side, fished around and handed her a small package.

"For me?" she asked, surprise in her beautiful eyes.

"Yup."

"Why?"

"Just because I felt like it. Besides, I like you."

I watched her grin and opened the box.

Of all the reactions she could have had, hers wasn't what I'd expected. I'd seen her staring at the gold necklace and locket several times when we'd strolled through the mall, pausing at the display with a wistful look. I knew she wanted it. But choking and running out of the bedroom? I hadn't expected that.

Kacy sat on the toilet seat, the only place of privacy in the cabin, hugging herself tightly, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her cheeks. It hurt, God it hurt so much. Her love was agonizing, leaden in her chest, breath short. How did Daddy know?

I knocked on the bathroom door. When I had no answer, I started to worry. Opening the door I stood in shock. Kacy was hugging herself, rocking, tears streaming, and when she looked up at me, agony cried out from her gray eyes. Something was wrong, seriously wrong!

I lifted her quickly with an arm under her knees and behind her back, gathering her up, hugging my child to me as my heart broke, and took her to the bed, sitting with her in my lap.

"Honey, what's wrong?" I asked, rocking her gently, so worried.

"Dad, I'm so sorry. But it hurts too much."

"What?" Suddenly I was very worried. My child hurt?

"It hurts, Dad. It hurts I love you so much. I'm sorry."

Soft tears eyes looked up at me, adoration and love burning me.

I felt like I was falling over the cliff in slow motion, weightless, plunging down with my heart in my throat. Kacy didn't mean she loved me like a father. She couldn't, that didn't hurt. She loved me, me, me as me, not Dad! I felt the painful crash as I hit ground. My little girl loved me!

"Hush Kacy. It's okay, it's okay."

Shocked, I realised I loved her too, not only as my daughter but as the lady she was becoming. I knew her; I knew every quirk, every smile, every hug, and loved them. I knew every grin and laugh, I knew her likes and dislikes, her temper, and loved them.

I knew my daughter better than I knew myself. I knew how she felt in my arms and cuddled to my side, her scent, her eyes, and loved them. I knew her devotion, the shine and brightness when she looked at me gracing me with her adoration, and loved it.

My heart ached painfully as I realised the sadness and melancholy I'd been so worried about, that I'd thought was for her mother, was for me! She worried about me! God help me, but I loved her for it, I loved her, my beautiful, caring daughter.

Kacy had tried so hard to hold it in. But Dad's kindness, buying that chain and locket, how did he know? It had been a tidal wave, a tsunami that hit her when she'd opened the small box. She couldn't help it. Her love was so, so painful.

When she felt Dad wipe the tears from her damp cheek with his thumb and lift her face with a touch under her chin, she froze. Dad's expression! His eyes!

She moaned when he bent his head and kissed her gently, her arms reaching up, circling his neck, Dad, Dad, I've wanted for so long.

I kissed Kacy, my daughter, kissed her warm soft lips. A shock of arousal tore through me when I felt a small tongue touch my lips, when I heard a small moan. God, my daughter! I could feel my body shake as I cautiously touched her tongue with mine and the dam burst. My daughter was sexy, desirable, and so, so arousing. She turned slightly in my lap, her head tilted, mouth opened. I fell. I kissed my daughter deeply, sensuously. I kissed her hard, tongues intertwined and lips moving as she held me harder, her body moving in my lap, her sweet bottom undulating.

Our kiss broke when I rolled Kacy onto the bed, the breakfast tray crashing to the floor. Kacy laughed, looked up at me, her hand cupping my cheek. Her laughter died away, and with passion and so much love in her eyes she whispered, "Daddy." I was gone. I was done. I'd never wanted anyone so much in my life.

Our kiss was hot and passionate. It became more passionate when Kacy gently took my hand from her tummy and guided it up to her breast. I was hard, rock hard at the feel of her petite breast under her nightshirt. My daughter's breast was small in my hand, so small, young, but youthfully firm. Her little nipple was a hard bead under my thumb. I caressed my little girl's breast, thrilled when she arched up against my touch.

Kacy trembled. God, Daddy's touch was so good. It sent a fire bolt of pleasure to her pussy. She felt it swell and dampen. Twisting slightly she reached between them, shuddering when she felt Daddy's erection, so big, so hard, Daddy. Passion clouded her mind, she wanted Daddy, wanted him now, desperately, body aching for him.

She broke the kiss, tearing her lips away from him, gasping. "Daddy," she whispered passionately, pushing him onto his back.

On her elbow, my beautiful daughter smiled down at me as she lightly touched my erection with the palm of her hand. I was straining inside boxers, a damp spot developing. As she kissed me again I combed fingers through her hair, holding her head, pulling my little girl's lips to me harder. I nibbled on her lower lip, groaning when I felt her hand slide flat on my stomach and slip under the waist, fishing down. I strained when her warm hand gently closed around my penis.

Kacy couldn't believe how hard Dad was. His erection was hot and pulsing in her hand; so much larger than she'd thought. Imagining it inside her, Daddy penetrating her, had her leaking badly and small pulses contracting her pussy. She moaned when she felt moisture on Dad's erection. Too much, too close. She pulled away and sat up, need storming her.

I watched Kacy reach down and pull her night shirt up. I watched in awe as she sat still, proud, letting me see her newly formed breasts for the first time, watching my eyes, watching my reaction. God, but they were perfect little mounds, softly rounded underneath, sloping up and out, with small erect nipples centred in pink, puckered areolae. I watched entranced as she leaned in towards me, moaning as she brought one breast to my mouth. It tasted so good, firm in my mouth, her nipple rubbery against my tongue. I tasted the saltiness of sweat as I caressed the tip of her breast with my tongue.

Kacy pulled away and reached for my boxers.

I lifted my hips when she pulled them down, my erection straining up off my stomach. I saw her pause and stare intently, look up at me with questions in her eyes.

Kacy paused. He's so big, bigger than she had imagined. But the thought of it inside! God, how will it feel? Can I take it in? She looked at Daddy wondering, slight tendrils of fear making her nervous.

"It'll be okay, Sweetheart, if we take it slowly. But it might hurt."

She smiled. She didn't care. She'd dreamed of this for two years, of making love with Daddy, of feeling Daddy inside. No she didn't care. She smiled and tugged her panties off, an ache developing deep inside her. Need Daddy.

I watched Kacy smile. I watched a confidence appear in her eyes. I saw her pussy again as she straddled me, her delicate labia parting and clitoral hood emerging, pink and engorged. My daughter sat astride my stomach, warm thighs against my side as she looked down at me. I could feel her moist warm pussy against me. She reached for my hands guiding them up, arching her chest out, nipples rigid and swollen.

When I caressed her small breasts, Kacy moaned and collapsed on me, hunching, rubbing her pussy against my shaft almost desperately. Precum spread making her tummy slippery. She moaned and ground harder.

"Slowly, Honey," I whispered softy, wrapping my arms around her small body.

As Kacy lay on me, her cheek on my chest, I felt her moving her bottom slowly, small circles, hunching up, small circles, sliding down, her lightly dusted pussy lovingly rubbing along my shaft. It was agonizing. Slowly she was manoeuvring my erection, moving up higher and higher until I felt my crown slip between soft slippery wet labia. I gasped. My crown scraped across her hard clitoris and she turned her bottom, tilting her pelvis and slid the crown through her cleft, precum leaking profusely.

Kacy was panting through her nose, her arms hugging my chest, bottom moving without my guidance. A desperate urgency had taken hold of her.

I groaned as I felt her gyrate her bottom, my erection suddenly catching at the entrance to her vagina. I held two perfect buttocks, two small perfect buttocks.

"Slowly, Honey," I whispered.

Kacy inhaled deeply trying to tamp down her aching need. God but she wanted to thrust back. She was so, so hot, flushed, on the edge. Daddy's erection was placed exactly where she'd dreamed about so many nights. It felt huge against her, yet despite the fear of how it might hurt, she felt a deep need to impale herself on it, take Daddy in, please! Please! Why wouldn't Daddy wouldn't let her! He was holding her bum, stopping her! Why Daddy? I need you!

I could feel the desire in my daughter, I could feel her slender body trembling with need. I could feel her twitch, and pressure as she tried to push back, tried to take my erection into her small pussy. I could feel her desperation and I knew she'd hurt herself if I let her. I couldn't. Despite the thundering need inside I couldn't let her just thrust.

"Slowly, Kacy, slowly," I urged more forcefully.

I felt her take a deep breath, watched her raise her face and look at me, sweet Kacy, beautiful Kacy. I watched the battle in her eyes, saw calm return.

"Okay, Daddy."

Without waiting for my answer, her cheek was back on my chest, her arms slipping under to hold my shoulders. I didn't stop her. I couldn't. She moved her bottom slowly, pushing slowly, moaning as I felt her opening dilate. With gentle motions my daughter softly pushed back against my straining erection, her vagina slipping down. She whimpered when my crown snapped into her soft tight embrace.

I held her bottom. "Wait, Sweetheart," I whispered, breathing heavily, erection straining, pulsing, throbbing. My crown was gripped in a tight, tight embrace that gently squeezed me. Kacy, my beautiful Kacy had just given me her virginity. We lay together, Kacy's comfortable weight on me, the tip of my erection pulsing and throbbing inside her tight, tight pussy, my hands holding her soft seductive little buttocks.

I felt her stir, felt her small testing move, my penis slipping in slightly more. Kacy moaned and backed off then tried again, another small move. My heart was pounding as I felt my penis slip into her hot, moist grip, her walls parting slowly as she pulled, pushed back.

Kacy felt dizzy. The sharp pain had hurt, lancing through her, but Daddy was in! As she laid quietly feeling Daddy's penis throb and swell rhythmically, her body started moving of its own accord as if it knew what to do, knew she wanted more. Gradually with small moves she felt herself stretched. Somehow the twinges of pain felt so exciting, so good. Daddy's erection was stretching her, slowly filling her. She had an ache deep inside that was crying out to be soothed, needing Daddy's touch. Moving on and off she felt a sharp spike of pleasure when her clit rubbed against his thick shaft, and suddenly thrusting back, she gasped at the sudden fullness, wonderful fullness. Daddy's penis touched the ache! God it felt good. Her pussy clenched, nipples aching, small breasts suddenly feeling full and heavy.

When Kacy thrust back unexpectedly, I was buried inside her, wrapped in a hot tight velvet embrace. God I was fully inside my daughter! I was penetrating my little girl's pussy!

I couldn't hold back, I couldn't restrain myself. It was so erotic, so sensual, so damn exciting. I was making love with my little girl. I was fucking my twelve-year-old! With my hands to guide her, I moved her bottom off, slipping out slowly until just the flared crown was inside her. I reversed and with one smooth stroke buried myself inside heaven, groaning as her tight, tight pussy gripped my entire erection.

Our arousal took over, Kacy no longer needing guidance. Suddenly we were moving in harmony, long deep strokes, tight, so tight. Kacy's bottom became urgent, her shoves harder, more demanding, insistent, and her thighs tightened against my sides, pussy clenching. My heart raced as we moved together faster and faster, racing towards our orgasms, striving towards sweet release, chasing heaven.

I tipped over the edge. "Oh God, Honey," I gasped. "I'm gonna cum."

With a blinding flash my orgasm crashed, Kacy crying out loudly as I thrust deeply into her. My erection swelled painfully and with a roar, pleasure thundering through me, semen burned up my shaft and exploded into my little girl. All rhythm was lost as we gasped and thrashed together. I shoved into her deeply, exploding, semen jetting out, withdrew, thrust, exploded!

"Oh Jesus, Kacy!" I cried out, pain from my climax wrecking my body, agony, agony.

I came, came hard, spurting hot semen, flooding my daughter's tight pussy and immature womb, thrashing and exploding over and over while I held on to her bottom. My body cramped, toes curled. I came, aching, straining, ejaculating wildly into her. My body heaved as I died, cumming, cumming, lost, lost in the love of my daughter.

I heard her soft whisper as we lay together, "Happy Father's Day,Daddy." Yes, happy Father's Day indeed.

"I love you, Baby," I whispered.