Becky's gaze drifted down to my crotch, and I was suddenly aware of my straining erection. Good God, had I really just been holding my daughter agains... my throbbing cock? I reached for my wine, and drained the glass in a single gulp. Fantasies were one thing, but was I really capable of fucking my own daughter, of taking her virginity, of making her a woman?I would have spent longer pondering the question, but Becky had clearly waited long enough. Leaning back on the couch, she pulled her dress. But she had wonderful memories of visiting her grandparents here; as they had lived here for many years until they both retired to Arizona. She remembered many nights sitting out here with her Gramps. As a painter, he had loved to sit and paint the ever-changing landscape of the ocean. They had a private beach, but they had always let all the families and neighborhood kids come in and frolic in the sand. It had been a bittersweet day when their only child — their wonderful daughter -- had died. More

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