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Dumped by her boyfriend, college-girl Sophie visits her widowed father for solace. But when a comforting hug arouses him, it forces father and daughter to face their true feelings for each other, setting the stage for a steamy union in which all their Forbidden Desires find release.
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A Father-Daughter Incest Story
By Nixie Fairfax
Copyright 2018 by Nixie Fairfax
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This work contains explicit sexual content and is intended for adults only. All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
“I think we should call it quits, Sophie,” Dane said, his eyes sidling away from hers.
Sophie just stared at him for a moment as a tense, sick feeling filled her belly and then spread swiftly through her entire body like the shockwave of a bomb. She set down the bottle of beer she had just gotten out for him from her dorm room’s minifridge. Rolling Rock. His favorite. She tried to convince herself that she was misunderstanding him in some way, but she knew it wasn’t true. If his words weren’t clear enough, his shifty gaze and his nervous yet defiant manner told her all she needed to know.
“There’s someone else?” she said, her voice clipped, cool, a veil of frost to hide her inner turmoil and to deny him the satisfaction of seeing how hurt she was. She had always been good at masking her true feelings when she had to.
“No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
“Sophie, it—it’s just not working. I’m just not feeling it.”
“What does that even mean? ‘Not feeling it’?”
“I just—I don’t feel that your heart’s really in it. In us. You know?”
“No, I don’t know.” Despite her best efforts, her voice was starting to waver, grow shriller, angrier. But she couldn’t stop it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How can you say that? I’ve done everything for you. I skipped a whole week of my classes just to help you with that Knights Templar paper of yours. God, I even pretended I liked your stepmom. When have I ever not been there for you?”
“I know, Sophie. But even though you were there…” He hesitated, then looked away, out the window, through the half-drawn curtains at the students passing by on the grassy quad outside. When he looked back at her his expression was thoughtful, reflective, and for some reason that scared her more than anything. “It’s like you’re not really into this. Into us. It’s like you’re just going through the motions. Like you’re just doing this because you feel like you should be in a relationship, not because you really want to be.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” she said, her voice rising even more. Her self-control was crumbling fast. She felt hot tears stinging the backs of her eyes. It was taking all her effort to keep them from welling forth. “Does that even make sense?”
He started to say something else, but then shook his head, apparently having decided that he had already said all there was to say.
“Look,” he said with a small, tired sigh. “It’s just…” He shrugged. “We’re done. It’s over, okay? I’m sorry.”
She opened her mouth, about to say, “Why are you doing this to me?” but then realized how lame and pathetic that would sound. Instead she thrust a finger at the door.
“Get out. Just get out.”
“I’m sorry, Sophie,” he said again. “I really am. I—”
“Just get the fuck out!”
He went, not storming out or slinking out, just going calmly, with a sort of sad maturity. Somehow that made the whole thing worse.
“Son of a bitch,” she hissed at the closed door. The bottle of Rolling Rock still sat on the desk where she had set it. She grabbed it, wrenched off the cap, and poured it into the sink, the frothy liquid glugging, and the bitter, beery fumes billowing up into her face.
When the bottle was empty, when her feeble, needless revenge was done, she tossed the bottle into the recycling bin and flung herself onto her futon, her head in her hands. She thought she would cry now that she was alone, but in truth, she felt more angry than despondent. That stupid asshole. What the hell was he bitching about? What hadn’t she done for him? She had always been the model girlfriend.
She needed to talk to someone. She got out her phone to call her best friend Trudi. But then she remembered that Trudi had gone home to visit her family for the weekend.
The weekend. Crap. Sophie had been planning to spend the weekend with Dane, but now she had nothing to do. At least not till Sunday. Sunday was the day she always visited her dad and made dinner for the two of them. But that was two days away. Why did that asshole have to dump her on a Friday night, leaving her alone for the whole weekend with nothing to do?
She looked at the stack of Nursing textbooks on her desk and reflected that she could read ahead, get a jump on the upcoming coursework. But no. The state she was in, she doubted she’d be able to concentrate enough to make sense of what she was reading. Besides, she didn’t want to be alone.
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