He Didn't Even Know He Wanted Her

The day life as he was used to it changed, Chuck Lawson left his lunch in a brown paper bag on the kitchen counter. It was literally the only hiccup in an otherwise great day. Only a week before, he had just been offered his own office. And a pay raise. And authority. A new job, with a new company. Chuck was on top of the world. On the morning of his first day, the sun was out, the coffee pot was working, and he was on time. But, about an hour into the day, he started craving a snack, but of course... his food was at home, over 20 minutes away. He probably could have scoped the building for a vending machine, hit up the sandwich boy for an apple, or even rode the elevator to the coffee shop on the first floor. But his wife was on a diet, and he was trying to be good, so instead, he called home to have somebody bring his sack lunch over.

After three rings, his daughter Megan answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, Megs. What are you doing home?"

"Hey, Daddy. I have the mornings free on Mondays and Wednesdays, remember?"

Chuck smacked his forehead with his palm. "That's right. Duh."

"Were you looking for Mom?" She asked.

"Not really, I just needed somebody to do me a favor." He said.

"What's that?"

"I wasn't thinking when I left this morning, and I forgot my lunch. Would you mind bringing it down to the office?"

Megan laughed, "Sure, Daddy, I'll bring you your lunch. You know, you really should consider joining the rest of the normal world and just buy your lunches. Nobody brown bags it anymore."

He chuckled. "Right. I guess I'm just stuck in my backwards ways. But, when I make my lunch, I know what I'm getting."

"You're hopeless, Daddy."

"That's me."

She snickered. "I'll be there in a few."

"Thanks, sweetie."

Megan chuckled as she set the phone back into the cocoon of the receiver. She easily spotted her dad's lunch on the counter nearby, grabbed it and her school bag, and headed downtown to his office building. Megan actually hated going downtown. While all her classmates were obsessing over which clubs were letting in the "Under 21's" and who's car would look best cruising the strip with the richer, bored members of the college crowd, she was honestly bored with teenagers and everything they were supposed to like. Downtown offered little to her liking. The boutiques were littered with sequined, garbage chic clothing. The restaurants were over priced and piped loud, sparkling pop music, or housed people sipping double shot espresso's and pretending to be 'cultured'. Whatever street corner wasn't home to a bum was inevitably under construction, or swamped with suits and loud heels. It was very much not her scene.

Of course, the only available parking was four blocks away and right in the middle of one of many construction zones. Megan eyed the workers, none of whom had yet noticed her, and took a deep breath. She through her pack over her shoulder, grabbed the brown bag and locked the car as she walked away. The air was thick with dust and the dense smell of exhaust. Her eyes watered just enough to blur as she made her way quickly past the crew and trucks. She was just about to sigh in relief, when the cat calling began. It started with a long, low whistle, and grew to a crescendo of appreciative shouts and banging metal.

Holding her head high, with her sweet face contorted into an annoyed squint, Megan hastened her steps to a near run until she reached the corner of the street. There she turned and a sweet calm descended upon her. She could still hear the ruckus behind her, but this street was clean and was currently home to only a few small groups of the business class. Women in pencil skirts or loose slacks, men in ties and jackets. All hurrying to their places of work, while shouting into phones or guzzling coffee from painted paper cups.

Several steps and turns later, she was in the foyer of the first floor of her dad's new workplace. She'd been here just last week, when her and her mom helped move his photos, books, and the leather armchair he'd been so excited about having room for. The brief memory made her smile. A handsome young man in the elevator caught her eye and smiled back, extending his suited arm to hold the elevator for her. Megan blushed and moved swiftly through the doors to stand in the small, but pleasantly lit box.

"What floor are you headed to?" He asked her in a smooth, masculine voice that sent shivers up her spine.

"Eight." She answered softly.

"Eight." He echoed, reaching past her to push the button. As the eight lit up, she looked him in the eye and he smiled again. "My floor, too." He said, and she laughed softly.

"What a coincidence."

"Indeed."

"So..." She started hesitantly, "You work for Bensen, Foster and Foster?"

He grinned at her. "I am Foster. Well, I'm the second Foster on the sign, anyway. My father is the first Foster."

"Oh. Wow. So, you're Benjamin Foster?"

"So you've heard of me?"

"Well, you're name is on the sign." She said with a grin.

"Touche. Anyway, you can call me Ben, if you like."

"You wouldn't prefer Mr. Foster?"

"Not from you."

He gave her a look. Not just any look. The kind of look that is given to say "you're special and interesting, please believe what I say". Megan's heart jumped and fluttered, and she looked away for fear of getting swept off into the unknown.

"Ben, huh? Okay. It's nice to meet you, Ben."

"Thank you. But we haven't technically met."

"How do you mean?"

"I don't have a clue who you are."

Megan blushed. "Right. Sorry. My name is Megan Lawson. You just hired my dad."

He looked shocked. "There's no way."

She nodded.

"Chuck Lawson is your father?"

"Yeah."

"Wow."

Megan was used to this. Her parents were both very healthy, well kept people, and when they introduced her to new acquaintances, people were always shocked to find that they had a daughter as old as Megan. Or, sometimes, they were surprised that Chuck and Linda even had children. Her mother was sweet and nurturing at home, but in public she gave off a fierce, independent vibe. Her father was such a hard working man that people often assumed he hadn't time to parent. But, they were both great at it, even though they stopped at one.

Ben was eyeing her in open curiosity. She giggled and said, "I know. He doesn't look old enough, right?"

"No. He doesn't at all. I knew he had a daughter, cause he spent half his second interview bragging about how smart and pretty she was, but... wow. How old are you?"

"I'll be nineteen in May."

He stared at her for a moment, but shook himself out of it as the elevator doors slid open. "So you're here to see you're dad?"

She grinned and stepped out of the elevator. "No. I'm here to see you."

Again the stare. And then he chuckled. "Right. Well, do you know where his office is?"

"I've been here once, I don't think I quite remember. I was just going to ask the receptionist."

"No need. Allow me to show you the way."

Megan stepped to the side to give him the lead and said, "Thanks."

It was a short walk. Ben Foster knocked on a door before opening it just wide enough to stick his head in. "Hey Chuck."

Megan heard her father's muffled voice from inside greeting his boss. "Good morning, Mr. Foster."

Ben looked back at her and rolled his eyes. "Told him to call me Ben, but the man refuses."

"That's my dad." She said with a smile.

He poked his head back through the door. "You've got a visitor, you lucky bastard." He swung the door open and motioned for Megan to enter.

"Hi Daddy."

"Hey Megs!" He stood up and walked toward her, grabbing his sack lunch and motioning for her to sit in the armchair. "Thank you so much." He looked at his boss. "Thank you, sir."

Ben nodded, winked at Megan, turned on his heel and left.

Chuck sat back down behind his desk and spoke to his daughter. "Can you visit a while or do you have to leave?"

"I've got a few minutes."

"Great."

Just then the receptionist buzzed in and asked if he could take a call. "Sorry sweetie, I have to take this one. Hold on a minute, okay?"

Megan smiled. "Sure, Daddy."

She shifted in the chair and crossed her legs. The skirt she was wearing hiked up past the middle of her thigh and she completely ignored it. The door was closed and its not like her dad hadn't seen her legs before. The phone call dragged on longer, and Megan grew bored. Chuck struggled to pay attention to the caller as his daughter began to play with her hair. She started fiddling with just one strand of shiny brown silk, and then began to lift the long mass over her head and twirl it into a loose bun, held up only by a ballpoint pen. He tried to focus on breathing, and listening, but all he could do was watch her little round breasts as they shifted up and down with the movement of her long arms.

Megan looked at her dad and smiled, before motioning to the clock. She had ten minutes at most before she absolutely had to go. He nodded and held up a finger to keep her there. He pointed at the phone and made a face, and she laughed softly. She settled back into the chair and pulled her lip gloss out of her book bag.

Chuck tried not to stare at her. She was holding a small mirror in front of her, pressing a pink colored wand to her bottom lip. She held her mouth only slightly open and rubbed the wand back and forth, distributing the color in a smooth, tantalizing motion. When she was done, she bent down again to put the items away and Chuck caught a glimpse of a soft, light green laced cup. He choked on his own breath and Megan gave him a startled look.

"Sorry." He mouthed, and she shrugged, pointed at the clock, waved and walked out.

He hadn't realized but the person on the line had hung up. He had no idea what the conversation had been about. "Chuck, you idiot." He muttered and hung up the phone. He stood up to close his office door, and was greeted by an erection he hadn't even noticed getting. He cursed under his breath and waddled over to the small bathroom that connected to his office.

He splashed cold water on his face, trying to clear his head of his daughter's completely innocent activities. He knew that the only reason he'd looked at or thought of his daughter in that way was because he had seen the way his boss was admiring her. She was gorgeous, having inherited her mother's long limbs and lovely curves. She had his eyes and hair, but of course both looked better on her. He'd never once thought of her as anything but his little girl, but there she had been, in his favorite chair with her legs crossed and her sweet little breasts bouncing... Chuck cursed and and tried to shove the images from his mind, but they continued to force their way in until he was unzipping his trousers and hovering over the toilet. He closed his eyes and gave in, grasping his hardened organ in his hand and pulling harder and faster until he showered the toilet in the same semen that had helped to create the object of his awakening desires.

For the next two weeks, Chuck struggled to maintain the status quo. He came home on time, he worked hard, he made love to his wife and helped Megan with her homework. He rented movies and had dinners out with the two of them, and acted as if nothing had changed. But all the normal, father usual activities had taken on a new vibe. Megan remained blissfully unaware of his longing thoughts and probing gazes. When he stared at her she simply assumed he was pleased with or upset about something she'd said. When he sputtered and coughed on his words she thought his was catching a cold or swallowing too quickly.

Two weeks exactly from the day, Chuck was late leaving the office because Linda had his car. Hers was in the shop and she had promised to pick him up by six. It was six thirty and he was still waiting. Finally he heard voices filtering down the hall from the elevator, and walked to his office door to peek out. His eyes were not greeted with the sight he was expecting. Instead of his wife, there was his daughter, laughing and pressing her hand into Ben Foster's shoulder. He watched as his boss leaned over her, apparently whispering something provocative into her ear. He could see the blush that reached all the way down her next and over the soft mounds of her breasts. He saw Foster notice him watching, and turned back into his office just as Megan noticed him too.

"Daddy!" Megan exclaimed. She flashed Ben a smile and rushed toward her father's office. "Hey, Daddy! Sorry I'm late. Mom called me from her office, she's going to be stuck for a while. I was supposed to get you a bit ago, but I got distracted."

"I see that." He said, glancing down the hall at the retreating form of his superior.

"Oh, no. It wasn't Ben. He was just nice enough to escort me up here, since there was really no one left in the building. No, I was doing homework."

He frowned at her, and she laughed. "I know it sounds like a lie, Daddy, but I swear its true. My English teacher is making us do an essay about 12 Angry Men. I was watching the movie."

"Oh. Good."

"Daddy," She said, "Don't be angry."

"I'm not angry. You were just awfully close to my boss after having just met him."

Megan was startled. "Sorry, Daddy. I don't think it was like that, but if you feel bad about it I won't talk to him anymore."

He sat down in the armchair and sighed. "You can talk to him. Just don't get sucked in. He's quite a bit older than you are, and not very loyal to his women friends."

"Okay. No prob. He's cute but he's not really my type, anyway."

"Oh, yeah? What is your type, exactly?"

Megan blushed and looked at the ground. "Ben Foster." She whispered. "Sorry, Daddy."

He chuckled. "Guess you can't help it, huh?"

She shook her head and walked toward him. "Don't be mad, okay?"

"I'm not going to be mad, baby. I just wish I could make you understand how I feel about you growing up."

"You could just tell me." Megan said.

"I really can't."

"Come on, Daddy." She begged, and as she spoke she lifted a one long, nubile leg and draped it over the arm of the chair, maneuvering herself until she was sitting in his lap.

"Baby," Chuck spoke softly. "You're too old to do this."

She smiled and shook her head. "I'm never going to be too old to sit on your lap, Daddy. Now talk to me." She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked him dead in the eye. Her lips were inches from his lips, parted slightly in an expression that showed she was ready to listen. Her sweet breasts were pressing into his chest, dulling what he was sure was the loudest heartbeat ever.

He closed his eyes and wished his traitorous penis into lasting flaccidity. "You've grown up." He said, swallowing hard and closing his eyes. "You've changed into to this beautiful, intelligent young woman. It worries me."

"Why?"

"I know what men are thinking when they look at you. I don't want you to have to get hurt before you find someone who will be the person you need."

"Daddy, I'm not that sheltered. I know what men want. I see the way they look at me and," She paused and looked away, "Anyway, I'm not... I'm not that... innocent anymore."

He knew. He knew what she meant. She was telling him that some guy, God he hoped it was a boy her age, had been with, been inside of her. But he asked the question anyway. "What do you mean?"

"Daddy." She sighed and met his eyes again. "I mean I'm not a virgin. Haven't been for a while. But I'm still your girl."

He felt the warm softness of her smooth thigh before he even noticed moving his hand. He stared into his daughter's eyes for a very long while, before looking away, clearing his throat and softly saying, "Baby. I'm so sorry, but it takes everything in me not to touch you."

He heard the sharp but quiet intake of breath, and waited for her to move away from him. She didn't. When he opened his eyes, Megan was gazing at him, staring deep into his eyes with an expression that spoke volumes of her obviously whirling emotions. Those words had been like silk to her, chocolate slipping down her spine in a slow, soft tickle. The one man she'd been sure would never have her, wanted her. The sweetness of it was devastating to her system. The resolve she'd held to never act on, never speak of her feelings crumbled, and she pressed in to him, lifting her lips to his and laying a velvety kiss on them.

She could feel his struggle, the hesitation to engage in life's most carnal act with his own child kept his lips firm and tense. She worked her bottom lip slowly up to nestle between his lips. She pushed lightly. When he still didn't give she ran the berry tip of her tongue along the top of his lower lip. A soft rumble in his chest preceded the slight parting of his lips. The hand that still rested on her sweet thigh dug in, squeezing the pliable flesh. Megan moaned and quickened the rhythm of her kisses.

Chuck was unable to even listen to the voice telling him to stop. His desires were proving themselves to be more demanding and powerful than the brain that had manifested them. He began matching the speed and tempo of his daughters sweet kisses. He let his tongue dance over hers, he pulled hers into his mouth and suckled. The girlish moan she emitted was exactly what he hoped for. His hand wandered from the top of her thigh to the softer inside. The heat of her womanhood called to him, and he didn't stop himself from grazing a finger across her mounds.

Megan jumped when she felt her father touch her. He was almost to them place she wanted him most, but he was moving too slowly. She released his mouth and breathed, "Please, Daddy. Please touch me."

He moved his other hand, pressing it into her lower back. She wiggled in his lap, and he hooked his fingers under her panties. She was hot and moist, the lips of her vagina already swollen and parting. The small mound of nerves above her opening was erect, begging to be touched. He brushed his thumb over it, moving it back and forth in a rhythmic sweep. She grew wetter, and her breasts rose with breath that matched the motion of his finger. He was holding back still, keeping himself from entering her, but she was begging, both physically and verbally, to be penetrated.

Her father moaned loudly as he slipped two fingers between the hot pink walls of her. Megan moved her buttocks in a circle in his lap while her father pressed in and out of her vagina. The ecstasy of her fathers attention pushed her over an edge she'd been unaware of, and her whole body went tense, every nerve twitching and tickling.

Chuck kept a steady motion while she came, all the while watching as her breasts heaved and her face froze in a delightful, pleasured expression. When she finished, he slipped his fingers out of her soaking folds and let them rest on her knee. She lifted her head and stared briefly into his eyes before moving swiftly out of his lap and across the room. He wondered what she was doing until he heard the door to the office click shut, and then the lock sliding into place. She came over to stand in front of him, and began to remove her clothing.

Megan watched her father's eyes as he devoured her motions and the flesh they reveled. She lifted her shirt over her head, pulled her skirt down her legs. She left her heels on because she'd seen an adult video in which the slutty secretary wore heels as she bent over the desk. The guy had seemed to like that. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, lowered her shoulders and let the garment slide over her and onto the floor. Her father licked his lips and watched her hands as she moved them down to her panties, hooked a thumb in each side and pulled them down. She felt her tits wiggle and imagined her father appreciating them while she bent down.

He gulped as his daughter moved toward him again, slow steps until her bare shins touched his black trousers. "So you think I'm pretty, huh, Daddy?" She said with a smile.