My project.

I have no imagination so I must write true stories.

When I found out that Dad was fucking my sister something started to brew inside of me. Was I shocked about it? I think I was surprised because before that day I never expected it. I am sure Mother also did not suspect anything if I didn’t.

Was I disappointed in them? I was not, I loved them both and if it made them happy and did no harm to anybody it was fine with me. In any case I was quite sure that Mom had some fun on her own on her very frequent trips with her lady friends.

Mandy was quite a few years older than me and out of school already. She held a full- time occupation at that point. She had a steady boyfriend but was still living with us in the family home. Daddy is an architect and works from home and I was attending a school very nearby.

It was during one of Mom’s excursions that I walked past Daddy’s room very early one morning and peeped in. I saw Mandy in bed with him and from the way they were both snoring away it was obvious that she was spending the night with him in that bed. I quietly sneaked away and never said a word about it to either of them.

But I knew, and the knowledge was eating me.

I started to realise after a while that in fact: I was jealous.

I started imagining what the “action” between the two of them would have been like. I knew very well what Mandy looked like when naked and very often saw daddy in his swimwear so I could paint the picture.

I also started wondering what it would be like for me to be in that bed with him. I started wondering if it would ever happen to me and how it will start, and when it will be, and lots of other things. To be honest I think I stated to wish Mandy out of the house to give me an opportunity.

I was still very young then but I am quite an intelligent young lady so realised soon that if I wanted something to happen I will have to make it happen. The question was: How? Opportunities were not a problem as Daddy and I was alone in the home every afternoon of every weekday. But I had no idea what to do or what to say to draw his attention to me as an available sexual partner.

Once I have made up my mind that this is what I wanted to do I started planning carefully and designed a plan that I titled: “Seducing Daddy” in my diary.

I have never seduced anyone, I have never been seduced so where does one start? I have seen some movies and read some books – not about seduction but about human nature, so surely I could come up with a plan. So the next thing I wrote in my diary was:

“What does the target really like? (What is his weakness?)”

It is common knowledge that he likes a good pair of legs. He sometimes makes a remark when such a pair is on TV or even in public he would whisper to one of us:

“Those legs are what I want for my birthday.” My Mom, Mandy and me would smile back at him and play along promising to get him some on his next birthday.

He is also interested in lady’s shoes and heels. He would immediately notice if one of us has a new pair and compliment us especially when it is a sexy sort of pair. There are lots of porn sites on the web for men turned on by the feet of women and I think Dad is one of those guys.

The next entry in my diary: “My legs and feet must do the trick!”

My project started the very next day. I worked out my timing very well and when Daddy sat down in front of the TV to watch the news I also turned up in the TV room. I came prepared dressed in very short pants and barefoot. I brought with me a bottle of nail polish. As he was sitting on the only sofa in the room I sat down on a chair, put my feet on the armrest and started painting my toe nails. I used a very old fashioned bright red colour that I stole from my mom’s room.

At first he did not seem to take notice but when I started on my second foot we started a conversation. I did not look up but concentrated on my painting activity but I was sure he looked at me while talking to me so he must have taken notice. Confirmation came when he held out an ashtray for me to put the cotton wool in once I have finished and removed it from between my toes. He did not mention what I did in the conversation and I kept on participating as normal as possible while kicking with my feet in the air pretending to dry the paint. He turned back his attention to the TV when the next programme started and I left the room a bit disappointed.

What more did I expect? I did not know but this could not be enough as a start to my project. Back in my room I came up with an extension of the plan and quickly painted the toe nails of one foot in a different colour. I went back to the TV room and was relieved to see him still sitting there.

“Daddy, which one looks the best?” I asked when I walked up to him hand put my one bare foot on his knee.

He looked at my foot for some time and then replied: “Show me the other one.”

I took my foot away and put the other foot on his knee. While all his attention was focused on my foot I wriggled my toes pretending to show of the colour better.

“Sit here,” he said patting on the sofa next to him, “and hold both feet next to each other.”

I then sat down on the sofa and turned so that I could place both my feet in his lap. He cupped the palm of my one foot in his hand and lifted it up to look closer and then put it down and did the same with the other foot.

“Both look good, but I think the pink colour suits a girl of your age better,” he replied.

Again I went back to my room but this time I could not think of anything else to do to go back and draw attention to my feet again. The project had to continue the next day.

Before I fell asleep that night I lay on my bed for a long time. I lay on my back looking at my feet that I have rested on a huge pillow. I pretended that I could still feel his cool, dry hand under the soles of my feet. Remembering how my heart raced when it happened I slid my hand under my panty. I was now really hooked on my project.

My next move was to convince Daddy that I needed a new pair of running shoes. I also asked him to take me to the shoe shop.

I feel that my staging of the event in the shop was quite good. First of I asked the sales lady to bring me at least five different pairs of running shoes.

Daddy just gave me one of those smiles that men give to women when we do silly stuff.

Sitting down on a chair I put one foot on the typical shoe shop footstool in front of me. It was me who took of my old shoe and fitted the first of one of the new pairs the lady has put down next to me.

“Please tie the shoe for me Daddy”, I asked in a baby-girl-voice.

Not only did he bend down and tie the first shoe but he also took it off again and fitted the next one on my request. We must have spent at least an hour with Daddy fitting one shoe after the other on my feet. During this whole process I often felt his fingers touching my ankle or toes or some or other part of my feet. I wanted to remember every one of these fleeting moments of contact.

In dressing for the event I decided not to wear shorts as usual but instead I wore a short cotton dress. During this whole process of slipping a foot into a shoe or pulling it out I did a lot of crossing and uncrossing of my legs. After the second shoe Daddy got tired of bending down and pulled up the footstool and sat down on it. For the rest of the time he was sitting in front of me with his head the same height as my knees.

If he wanted to peep under my dress it would have been easy for him to do so. I think he did once or twice but I could not be a hundred percent sure. If he did he would have seen a very small nylon panty barely covering my pussy. From time-to-time I moved my knees apart a bit to create space for such a glance hoping that it happened.

Daddy also enjoyed the shopping project because he was never in any hurry but took his time in removing and fitting one shoe after the other.

When we reached home he did not go back to his study but instead went straight to his room and closed the door. Did he go there because he was excited by my feet, or was he simply tired? I did not know, but I also went to my room and spread myself on the bed. Again I could not resist slipping my hand under my panty.

During the next week or so I did various other little things that in my opinion were drawing Daddy’s attention. For example I would walk around the whole afternoon without a bra under my semi-see-trough top but put one on just before Mom and Mandy gets home. I would sit behind my desk doing homework in my room, dressed in just a bra and panties and leave the door open. Again I would dress up just before Mom gets home.

It was my moisturising display that started reaping benefits at long last:

On that particular afternoon I took a shower and then marched into Daddy’s study dressed only in a bath robe and small panty. Barefoot as most of the time in the house. I brought a bottle of body lotion along well prepared for the display I was going to stage.

Daddy looked up, said hi and carried on with his work. I flopped down on the couch opposite his desk. I pressed some lotion into the palm of my hands and then started to apply the lotion to my feet and ankles. As I was working my way up to my calves and knees I notice that Daddy stopped working and was watching what I was doing.

The robe fell away a bit as my hands started rubbing against my thighs. Daddy saw me from the side and I knew well that the whole length of my leg was exposed to him, from my toes to my hip. I knew that my legs looked good gleaming from the lotion I have just massaged onto my skin.

“I am starting to get your point Vicky -------,” Daddy started off:

“What is it with this show of legs and feet that I receive lately?”

This was a bucket of cold water over my head as up to that point I thought that I was doing quite well and I felt I was getting street-smart in this kind of thing. Now I realised that my effort was clumsy and obvious to him. I felt very embarrassed and pulled my legs up and covered them under the robe.

I don’t know whether it was the embarrassment or the disappointment that overcame me but I started sobbing and could not say a word.

Daddy then acted totally out of character. He stood up from behind his desk and walked around it to my side. I could not face him and looked down at the floor as he came to stand right in front of me. To my surprised he reached out to me and cupped my face in the palm of his hands. In this process he lifted my face up so that I was staring him in the eyes as he bent down and kissed me very softly on my lips. Very lightly, using his fingertips he wiped the tears from my cheeks and gave me a brilliant and warm smile.

I was still numb and my body totally lame as he picked me up and carried me up the stairs to my room. I was intensely aware of his strong arms that pressed me against his chest while he carried me. I buried my face in the nape of his neck and was calmed down by the familiar body odour.

Once inside the room he did not dump me on the bed as I expected but instead he himself sat down on the bed still holding me in his arms. We stayed like this for quite a while with me basically sitting on his lap with knees pulled up. His one arm was behind my back and shoulders holding me against his chest. His other hand started on my knee and caressed my shin down to the bridge of my foot and then back up again to my knee.

“I think I understand,” he said. “You think that you want me to have sex with. But you are still young and very inexperienced Love. I think what you want is for me to love you – and I mean as in more than love you as your Dad.

I think you would like me to also love you as a man loves a woman. I will have to teach you first that making love is much, much more than sexual penetration.”

During this lecture I relaxed more and more, realising that he was absolutely right in all respects. As he stood up with me and lay me down I could also manage a smile. As he came and lie next to me I snuggled up to him when his one leg slipped between my legs and his hand moved down my spine to press my body against his I felt completely happy.

As his face came closer to mine we stared honestly into each other’s eyes. I moistened my lips with the tip of my tongue in anticipation of my first really, really, really passionate kiss. His cock was hardening as it pressed against my crotch but my hands did not go there yet, instead I threw my arms around his neck intending to make sure that the soon-to-happen kiss will last as long as I wanted it to last.

Is this only part one? If someone reads it, likes it, and understand it, I will write the rest down.