Daddy’s Elena

Daddy’s Elena

It hadn’t been the greatest decade. If I had planned to destroy my life, I couldn’t have done it any better than mere chance, fate, fortune or whatever, did. Ten years ago, after a 15-year marriage, my wife decided that I just wasn’t doing it for her. Under the pretense of going to visit her elderly parents in North Carolina, and “get her head back together” to make our marriage work, she took our 9-year-old daughter, Elena, and flew down South for a “visit”. Two weeks later, I received divorce papers and a protective order preventing me from contacting our daughter because she said I was a “very bad parent”.

Two years later, the divorce was final and to say I had been taken to the cleaners would be putting it very mildly. My business was ruined; the decree made me sell all the assets to be largely given to my ex, the rest to go to child support for our daughter. Downsizing and trying to find employment that would pay the bills and the huge child support payments took all of my time. It was two more years before her mother let me have contact with Elena, starting with just occasional postcards, back and forth, and finally, working up to a once-a-month phone call. Elena got around the restrictions, once her mom allowed phone calls, by going to a girlfriends’ house and calling me collect. It was very good hearing from my beloved daughter after so long, I treasured every minute we talked. Yes, she was still daddy’s princess. The news I received from her wasn’t all that good, though. Her mother had lost interest in being a single parent and for all intents and purposes, had kicked Elena out of her house. She survived by running the streets and staying here and there with friends, returning home only at the most dire need. Her mother didn’t really pay attention and tended to complain and yell at her when their paths crossed. Elena would show up once a month at her momma’s home to make her “official call” to her daddy. She would stay for the briefest of times, then do her best to keep clear of her mom.

I have to say, I am very proud of her because she did manage to stay in school and make good grades. She even managed to graduate halfway through her Senior Year. Six months before her classmates, Elena found herself truly on her own. With graduation, her mother officially kicked her out of the house so she decided to travel back out West “to seek her fortune” like so many other young people have, over the years. Elena ended up in the LA area, far away from the Pacific Northwest and her daddy, for a time. Still, LA is a lot closer than North Carolina. She was staying with a friend and had found a good job to pay the bills. All in all, a very capable young lady. Her mother, meanwhile, had gotten fed up with her controlling parents, and also moved back to the West Coast. It was quite an unpleasant surprise to find out she was back in town.

Some months later, I was presented with another surprise, although this one being much more enjoyable. Answering my door, late one evening, standing in the glare of the cheap apartment porch light, was my now, gorgeous daughter. To say I was overwhelmed with joy would be an understatement. Elena shouted “Daddy!!!!” and was suddenly wrapped tightly in my arms, both of us trying to put all the suppressed emotion of those long years into such a simple thing like a hug. After what could have been hours, days, months or years, time kind of stood still during our reunion, we separated and I held my sweet little girl at arms length, trying to get a good look at her. Realising that the porch light was too weak to get a good look, I dragged that beautiful young lady into the apartment where I could get a good look at her. What I saw amazed me. The gawky little girl, all knees and elbows and stringy hair had metamorphosed into something to behold. She was still tiny or maybe petite would be a better description. Probably no more than 5′ tall and maybe 90 pounds, except for a very womanly figure hidden under baggy jeans and sweater, a quick glance would show a girl who looked who looked much younger than her age. Her hair, worn long and curling below her shoulders, was a shining, deep auburn. Eyes the deepest shade of green, shifted to brown as the lighting around her changed (I would find, later on, that her moods also made her eyes change colour from green to grey to brown). Her face was a perfect oval, her lips full, wide and very red, even without lipstick.

It was difficult to judge her figure, with her dressed in such loose clothing, but for such a tiny girl, her breasts were large, round and heavy and her hips were wide and flaring with a tiny waist in between. Later, when she was wearing tight britches, I was to notice that she has a perfect heart-shaped bottom. But, at this point, I was a daddy who had been given the best gift ever; his daughter, his princess returned to him after so long. A daddy very proud of the beautiful lady his daughter had become. And suddenly, logistics became a very important subject.

To survive and save money, I had downsized to a very cheap, one bedroom apartment, tiny by my former standards. I had been able to keep a few pieces of furniture but the rooms Gaziantep Emek Escort were still somewhat bare. And I didn’t have a ‘guest room’. Elena said, “Daddy, it is so good to see you and I have a lot to tell you and talk with you about, but right now, I am exhausted from traveling, the last three days.” We had dragged her duffel bag inside and had arranged ourselves on the couch, in anticipation of a long conversation, but I could seen she was having a difficult time keeping her eyes open.

Making a quick decision, I said, “Follow me” and led her into my bedroom where I grabbed a pillow and blankets from the closet and deposited them on the sofa. Moving back into the bedroom, I said to Elena, “Let’s get you to bed, young lady, daddy will take the couch and, if you will give me a quick hand changing the linen, you will take the bed in here.” Over her protests, I started stripping the used linens off of the bed and began remaking it for her comfort. “No more arguments, baby girl, this will be your room for as long as you are here,” I told her, trying to sound stern and resolved. My little girl was too tired to argue, so while she went to the bathroom to do her evening ablutions, I grabbed a few things from the closet and dresser so I wouldn’t have to disturb her later, or in the morning, when I had to head out to work.

A few minutes later, she came out dressed in an oversize t-shirt and well-worn sweatpants, ready for bed. The dirty old man in me couldn’t help but note that she had removed her bra and her nipples were stiff beneath the thin fabric of her shirt. It took all of my concentration to turn away and not stare at her lovely nubs. Instead, I continued the innocuous “good night” conversation. I let her give me a quick good night kiss on my cheek and then watched as she moved to the bedroom, her beautiful ass moving seductively under those worn sweats. I knew she hadn’t done it purposely but the effect was still the same, instant erection. I was glad she didn’t turn around and notice. Grumbling under my breath about how those were very un-daddy-like thoughts, I determined to be very circumspect during her stay, as I made up the couch into a bed.

I don’t know how long it took me to get to sleep, that night. I was still quite excited about my daughter, the love of my life, returning to my world. I do know, however, that it seemed only a few minutes before the alarm on my cell phone woke me up to get ready for work. I was completely disoriented, finding myself waking up on the couch. It took me a few minutes to climb my way back to reality. And, when I did, what a reality it was. Changes to my routine would have to be made, but it was more than worth it. I pulled on my sweats so I would be decent, in case Elena got up before I left for work, as I moved to the small kitchen to start coffee. I ran through all my usual morning “get ready for work” routine, and was dressed and just about out the door, to head for the shop, when I heard the bedroom door open and Elena scurrying to the bathroom. I stood by the front door, for a minute, ’til she came out of the bathroom, her hair mussed from sleep and a “little girl waking up look” on her face.

“Good morning, daddy,” she called and, like a little girl, ran to me for a hug. Oh my, the bouncing and wiggling under her clothing were definitely NOT what I remembered from when she was a little girl. I caught her up in my arms saying, “good morning, baby girl”, giving her a bear hug. I turned away, trying not to notice the delicious curves. I told here where she could find stuff for breakfast and when I would be home from work. I told her to just make herself comfortable and relax. Then with a quick good bye, I tried to get out of the door, but I was not quick enough as she was determined to give me a good-bye kiss. I had expected another chaste kiss on my cheek but somehow, suddenly her full lips were pressed against mine in what was DEFINITELY NOT a kiss from my little girl. She held it longer than I thought was appropriate. Even as I tried to pull away, her lips followed me, keeping me from breaking contact. As our lips separated, she stared up at me with a huge smile and a look in her eyes that I couldn’t read. I quickly stammered my good byes and headed to my car, wondering at the electricity that had seemed to pass between Elena and her daddy.

The day passed quickly and I must say, very pleasantly, with the thoughts of seeing my princess when I returned home from work. To my surprise, Elena had cleaned up the apartment (I am lousy at housekeeping) and had a very nice meal on the table, waiting for her daddy to get home. And she turned out to be a very good cook. Apparently she had found the market down the street and had picked up the fixings for a great steak dinner complete with baked potatoes, steamed asparagus and a salad. And she had even baked a cake for dessert. Her daddy was definitely impressed. We talked, over dinner, and brought each other up to date, Elena saying that she would start looking for a job the next day. She had dressed quite simply, in a skirt and blouse, still looking like a little girl, except, of course, for those beautiful tits and that gorgeous “big girl” ass. Daddy was very pleased to have her in his house but I was STILL having trouble keeping myself from leering at the very sexy young lady who had taken up residence with me.

That first day pretty much set the tone for the next few weeks. I would get up early to prepare for work, sometimes Elena would get up before I left and send me on my way with a smile. It didn’t take long for her to find a job but every evening, when I returned from work, Elena would have dinner on the table and would share how her day went. She insisted, once she was working, on helping to pay expenses. Even so, it wasn’t long before she let her daddy know that she had saved enough to start looking for an apartment of her own. Though I hated to see her move out, I had to admit that the apartment was a bit cramped for the two of us. It took her about two more weeks to find a place that suited her. The next weekend it was with a bit of a heavy heart, for both of us, that I helped her move in to her new place. I helped her move in to her new place. Since part of my business is restoring old furniture I was able to scrounge up some nice old things to furnish her new apartment. I had a lump in my throat as we got the last things placed as she wanted them and I made to leave and head back to my place. Elena surprised me, again, by not going for a kiss on the cheek but a full lip kiss that lasted much longer than the first time. Just as I was about to break it, her lips parted and her sweet, pink tongue just barely caressed my lips. Then she pulled back, quickly, with that same secret smile and look in her eyes that she had that first morning.

The next few months went by in a haze. I spent long hours at my shop, working to fill the emptiness that I felt back at the apartment. Elena called her daddy every day, reporting on all the trivial things going on in her life from work, to new friends, to boys she was dating and such. Somewhere along the line, her mother found out she was in town and began trying to start a new relationship with her. Elena told me she was a bit reluctant, but since it was her mother, and she wanted a normal mother/daughter relationship, she would give it her best. Elena and I had just recently celebrated her 19th birthday and her momma had even taken the time to get her a card and a little present. It was around this time that Elena decided to check out the local Community College to see if there were some career courses she could take to improve her job skills.

Now, much to my surprise and pride, she actually enrolled in a commercial chef career course, learning to cook and run a restaurant. Since she was already a good cook, the coursework, in that area, was a breeze, though the management courses were a bit more of a stretch for her. At this time, things started to get more difficult and stressful for Elena. She kept her full time job and insisted on paying all her school fees and costs and with grants and loans; she was able to just hold on. It came as a total shock to us when her momma offered to let her move in to her extra room (she had a much larger place than I was able to have) to save on living costs for the time she remained in school. With a bit of fear and trepidation, Elena decided to take her mother’s offer, and I helped her put some of her stuff in storage (I had space in the back of my shop that would hold it) and move the rest to her momma’s place while she was out.

Elena kept up her habit of calling daddy every evening, after I got home from work. Her conversations were light and enjoyable, about school and work and living with her mom. She had met a couple of guys that she liked to spend time with and I think she had actually moved to sleeping with one of them on occasional weekends. Not something a daddy wants to hear or think about since no man would ever be good enough for his daughter. However, Elena was very happy those first months. Her happiness made me happy. She and I would get together on the weekends, occasionally, to go out for dinner, or the aquarium or just sit down by the public docks, watching the ferries coming and going. This was a very sweet time for me since I had missed pretty much all her growing up time. But there were changes in the wind.

Suddenly, the tone of Elena’s calls, changed. She became more somber, less outright cheerful. At first I just chalked it up to stress with school and work, but it wasn’t long before something else began to surface. Occasionally, she would let slip small comments about not being able to please her mom. I didn’t think anything of it ’til one day, out of the blue, I got a call at the shop. Elena was in tears and almost hysterical. Her mother had blown up at her calling her all sorts of names because she spent time with me. Her mother accused her of being bi-polar and being totally out of control, just like she had been six or seven years earlier, when her momma “had” to kick her out (for her own good, of course). We spent over an hour on the phone, getting my sweet Elena calmed down and thinking coherently, again. She agreed to try to stay the course, and put up with her mom’s moods, for now. I figured that it was just a one-time thing. Then, the call, almost identical, came again, the next week, then again, the following week. Her momma was getting increasingly irrational, as she had those long years ago, before she decided to walk out on me.

Elena is 19 ½, going to school full time and working a full time job, and keeping it all together. Her momma seems to be losing it, fast, and trying to put her own psychosis on her daughter. It was starting to get me down. I hated seeing my daughter in tears and hysterical but I didn’t know what to do to help in the situation. It was also early spring in the Pacific Northwest, which means a lot of grey, rainy weather that didn’t do anything to relieve my blue mood. My heart was breaking for my daughter; I felt impotent to do anything the help her get through this very rough time. I was sitting there in my little apartment, trying to figure out what to do and getting more depressed by the minute. It was nearly midnight on a Friday night and it had been a very long time since I had female companionship and it was pouring down rain. All in all, not a night conducive to good thoughts or getting to sleep easily.

With all of this going through my mind, and feeling like a slug because I couldn’t do anything to help my little girl in this really rotten time of her life, suddenly, someone was banging on my front door. “Who the hell, at midnight,” was my first thought. Then,” It’s probably a friend of one of my low life neighbors, drunk and confused about where his buddy’s door was, ” became my next thought. The loud banging came again, just as I reached the door and threw it open, expecting to have to deal with a belligerent drunk. To my great surprise, there was my little girl, standing in the rain, soaked to the skin and obviously, still crying. The rain had soaked everything from her hair to the partially packed duffle bag at her side to her clothing and shoes. She presented a picture of utter dejection. All this went through my mind in a split second as I launched myself out into the rain to scoop up my baby girl in my arms and carry her shivering form into the darkened apartment.

Elena was incoherent and clung to me, with both hands around my neck, like her life depended on it. I loosened her hold on my neck and gently laid her down on the couch where she curled up in a ball, still crying like she would never stop. I tossed her duffle into the corner, where it landed with a wet, squishy sound, and ran to the closet where I kept my linens and towels, grabbing an armload of the latter. Tossing the pile of towels on the floor next to the sofa, I grabbed the largest one I could find and started trying to get some of the water off of her, out of her hair, drying what exposed skin I could see. I wasn’t doing much good because her clothing was soaked through, her coat and jeans still running with water. I then had to make a very dangerous choice. I had to either try to get my sweet Elena dry through her wet clothes, or remove those clothes (exposing that lush body, to my peril) and towel her dry, getting her warmed up so she could relax and get control. I opted for damnation to my eternal soul, and started getting my baby out of her wet, cold clothing.

Elena was curled up so tightly it was difficult, at first, to start getting her undressed. I finally got her to loosen up enough that I was able to get her coat separated from her. I looked around and just tossed it into the same corner as the duffle reasoning that I would only have to mop up one wet section of floor. Elena curled right back up, after I got the coat away from her and now she was shivering along with her sobbing. I pulled off her shoes and socks, throwing them over on the wet pile, and got her to uncurl and sit up a bit so I could pull her sweater off, sending it along with the rest of the wet stuff. I was able then, to start toweling her hair dry and started rubbing warmth into her arms, neck and shoulders with a dry towel. And noticed that the room had gotten quite a bit warmer. There my little girl sat, hugging herself to try to get warm, with just her wet britches and her overfilled bra covering her sweet body.

Now I was in trouble. I had to help my baby girl get warm and dry, but then, as the tightness of the denim of my crotch was proving, my little girl would be completely exposed to her old man’s lustful gaze. Boy, was I in trouble. A very nubile 19-½ year-old naked lady lay on my couch. But she is my DAUGHTER!!!!! Working quickly, to expose my sweet Elena as little as possible, I struggled her tight, wet jeans down her legs and then realised that her very tiny bikini panties had come along with them. Trying to remind myself that the increasingly naked lady on my couch was my daughter, I worked as quickly as I could, rubbing her all over with the dry towels, trying to get more warmth into my half frozen daughter. Her sobs had begun to abate as she warmed up and I took the last fatal step, reaching behind Elena and unsnapping her bra, drawing it away from her gorgeous breasts, then quickly covering her with another dry towel and trying not to rub those beautiful teats with as great enthusiasm as I had rubbed the rest of her. Then I wrapped another large towel around her shoulders, giving her some modesty, at least.

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