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The Stranger in My House

I just can't deal with her right now.

When he first heard those words, he couldn't believe his ears. Maybe he had stricken his head, or maybe he had one cup too many scotch to drink. It wasn't just the words that made it unbelievable, but it was the tone that really sold it. The annoyance, the frustration, the defeat; it was impossible to see it as anything but what it sounded like.

She had given up...

Russell Gray couldn't tell you when he and his ex-wife began drifting apart. He's had plenty of time to think about it over the decade following their separation and eventual divorce, but he never came to a concrete answer. Was it after her father died, and she grew emotionally withdrawn? Maybe it was when his career picked up, and he started spending less and less time at home. Maybe it was even the time his third novel turned out to be a massive success, transforming him into some literary star. Whatever the answer was, the once overwhelming love they shared for one another had faded away into vitriol and scorn.

He's spent years on the sliding scale of blame. Sometimes he'd blame her for the failure of their marriage. Other times, he'd blame himself. Now as he was 42, he came to the answer that it was both of their faults. There wasn't some big, explosive reason that they divorced, like infidelity or anything like that. The signs were always there, and they went through great pains ignoring all of them. Maybe at the time they just felt as if ignoring it was easier... better, even. Now here they were, on opposing sides of the country, seeing each other rarely, and for only one very important reason.

Her...

Her name was Patricia Gray, and she was their daughter. Born a year into their marriage, she was the glue that held their fragile relationship together for years. While they were going through marital problems that they refused to talk to each other about, their daughter continued on with her life blissfully unaware of her parent's grievances. She was just a child at the time; why should she be bothered with any of it?

But time moved on. They divorced. Patricia went with her mother and moved to Oceanside. He stayed here in Bellview. The world keeps spinning.

He'd visit from time to time, usually for birthdays and holidays, sometimes randomly when business called him to that side of the country. And as he visited, he watched his daughter change in sporadic intervals. She went from a bubbly, blue-eyed, black-furred little girl, to a morose, apathetic, and sardonic teenager. All without him being there.

He visited last Christmas. They took a photo with one another. He was smiling in the photo. She was not.

He couldn't blame her for her indifference in the picture. Truth be told, she was being more honest than he was. The smile he wore was fake anyway. He was smiling because he was taking a picture, and smiling is just something you do when you're having your picture taken. Putting it lightly, he was smiling because he had to, not because he wanted to.

That half-assed approach to family bonding was one of the reasons why his family was separate in the first place. At least Patricia had the balls to see through the obvious facade.

At some point, Russell grew complacent with it all. He remembered early on in the divorce, making any and all attempts to see Patricia whenever he could. Not just on holidays and birthdays, but random moments out of the blue. He'd warn his ex-wife of it beforehand of course, but during those first two or three years, he saw Patricia as often as he could.

But time went on, and his visits grew less and less often. The number of trips were reduced, he began missing certain holidays, and soon after, he began missing birthdays as well. He wasn't even there for Patricia's sixteenth birthday. What kind of father was he?

All those gaps in visits made Patricia's transformation that much harder to stomach. This glum teenager wasn't his daughter. His daughter was an eight-year-old who chased butterflies, caught frogs, and looked up at him with the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen.

This girl? This girl was. This girl was... bleh...

When thoughts like these came to his head, Russell felt ashamed of himself. He could not complain about Patricia being who she was now, especially when he wasn't there to watch it happen. His choices to be there or not be there, were ultimately his choices to make, and he could blame no one but himself. Not the world, not his ex-wife, and certainly not Patricia herself.

Perhaps then, at some point, he accepted his failures, and accepted that he'd never have a true relationship with his daughter. But then one day in February, he got a call from his ex-wife. He remembered checking the phone in confusion and fear. She only called when something bad happened. So after a few seconds of steeling himself, he answered the call.

What's wrong, Carol? He asked. And... well...

I just can't deal with her right now.

That's what led to this. Here he was, standing in the terminal of Bellview International Airport, waiting for her to arrive. He could feel his heart thump in his chest, feeling a mixture of apprehension and excitement. What would she say? What should he say? Should they hug? Should they just move on like nothing? Guess he should just do what came natural.

He knew she would arrive soon as he heard her flight arrive through the airport's announcement systems. That just meant he had to wait to see the familiar sight of a teenage girl with a glum face on. With each minute that ticked by, he felt the dread grip him, even while he wore a face of calm and indifference.

The bodies of those around him moved left and right, obscuring his view of the distance. He was so frightened of missing his daughter, he dropped his hand to his hip to text or call her. But right as he grabbed his phone in his pocket...

Roll Roll Roll

She appeared.

Russell looked up, just as the crowd of people began to part. And who did he have looking back at him but a young woman... a young feline. Her fur was a midnight black, a shade so dark yet so vibrant that it shimmered whenever the light struck her pelt. She was a smidgen taller than most girls her age, though that only amounted to her coming up to his shoulder. Her figure was that of a blossoming young woman, one who had grown in all the right ways. A shapely and firm chest which was a cup or two bigger than the girls around her. Curvaceous hips that had a peach shape to them. A narrow waistline that was honed from those summer volleyball games she used to play. And long black hair which was tied back into pigtails which themselves were braids.

And then there was her face.

She had the loveliest blue eyes one had ever seen. A shade of blue so beautiful, that they put the clear ocean and the skies to shame. And yet, they sat on a face that looked so dour. Her eyes were flat, her lips bent in a slight frown, all to paint a face that could not care any less for anything and everything surrounding her. An expression was so morose, it seemed to suck the life out of the air around her.

Wearing jeans on her legs, an off the shoulder shirt, and a baggy jacket, she walked down the terminal with a bookbag on her back while pulling her luggage behind her. Closer and closer she came, causing Russell to straighten up. Time seemed to slow to a stop around him, all while she walked up until she was just a foot away.

“Hey, Dad..." she said, her voice lacking any sort of vibrancy to it.

“Hey, Piper..." he answered.

Patricia 'Piper' Gray, the daughter of Russell Gray. A bit difficult to tell when one were to look at them standing side by side, since they didn't really look similar to one another. Why is that? Because Patricia was a cat. Russell was a human.

He was a tall middle-aged human male who took great care of himself. His hair was wavy, black and fell to his chin, he had a well-maintained goatee on his chin, and these sharp blue eyes. Physically fit as well, he had a somewhat burly physique to him thanks to his semi-frequent trips to his local gym. Hey, he may not be an actor or a director, but public image is still important, even for an author.

When it comes to human-beastkin relationships, most of the time, their unions create hybrids or kemonomimis. But this isn't a guarantee. Sometimes, the child's genes will be mostly dominated by their mother, such as the case of Patricia. Her mother was a cat, so Patricia ended up being mostly a cat. Perhaps you'd be able to tell their familial relationship through their eyes, as that was the one thing Patricia gained from her father. Another thing she got from her father? That apathetic expression.

Russell gazed down upon his daughter, looking just as indifferent as she did. Not that he meant to, that is. An emotionally withdrawn man, he tried to put on a smile, but it felt halfhearted. Again, Patricia was being more earnest with her feelings as her eyes slowly gazed to the side.

“Here. Let me take your luggage for you," said Russell.

“Sure. Go ahead," said Patricia as she handed him the handle to her suitcase.

Grabbing it in hand, he began pulling on the suitcase as he and his daughter began walking down the terminal. Occasionally they'd look at one another, only to avert their eyes just as quickly. If anyone were paying attention to them, they'd be able to feel just how awkward things were between them. Not that Russell was ignorant of this. He needed to break the ice.

“Sooooooo..." he muttered, “How was the flight?"

“It was whatever..." Patricia answered with a roll of her eyes, “I got a headache, so..." she then pulled out her phone and huffed, “I don't know how you fly on those things all the time. I prefer cars..."

“You get used to it the more you do it," he answered, “Sometimes I have to fly several times in a year to get to all of my book signings and whatnot. You either get used to it then, or you're one of those people who down sleeping pills to get through it."

“Yeah, I bet..."

Russell gazed over at his daughter again. Patricia's eyes were locked on her phone, her thumb scrolling furiously through it. Here she was, back with him after so many years of them apart... and she showed more interest in the phone in her hand than she did in talking to him. Maybe if he was a different kind of man – a different kind of father – he'd try to push her more to talk to him. But could he really say he was her father when he wasn't there to watch her grow into the young woman she was now?

It was difficult to say...

Exiting the airport, the two walked in relative silence towards the parking garage in the distance. Russell would glance at Patricia every now and then, and just like before, she remained transfixed on her phone. He wanted to say something... but he decided to save it for when they got to his car.

It was a pretty vehicle, one that was silver-white, with black leather seats and an open top. Smooth and curvy, the two-seater car was perfect for a bachelor who lived alone in his modest mansion. Yes, his modest mansion... as if such a thing was possible.

“Here," said Russell as he walked around to the trunk of his car, “I'll deal with that for you."

“Sure. Thanks," replied Patricia with that terse tone of hers.

As she walked over to the passenger side of the car, Russell put her luggage in the trunk whilst watching her. His daughter was so quick and morose. She didn't speak more than necessary, and when she did speak, it was as if she was being forced to. If she could choose, she'd be as quiet as a mouse. Was it because of how sudden this all was?

For a brief moment, Russell thought back to the phone call he got earlier this year, the one that put all of this in motion. His ex-wife – Carol – had been having problems with Patricia's attitude for years now. It was like since becoming a teenager, his daughter had transformed into this dysfunction and disobedient cat.

He frowned, wondering if she was acting out because of something that had happened to her. Considering how secretive she could be at times, he doubted Patricia would tell someone if something bad did happen to her. She definitely wouldn't tell him.

“If it helps, I'm happy you're here with me," said Russell as he got into the driver's seat of his car, “That makes me... very happy."

“Hmm..."

Patricia merely shrugged her shoulders, as if dismissing his words as she remained focused on her phone. Sighing, Russell said not a word as he turned on his car, and put his foot to the gas pedal.

As he drove out of the parking garage and took to the roads, he stole occasional glances as his daughter. She looked so bored, so uninterested in her surroundings, which made it difficult to tell what was going on in her head. Maybe she was so glum because of the situation she was in.

She had been sent across the country to live with her estranged father because of her mother's frustration with her. That would hurt anyone on the inside, let alone a young woman such as herself. How many friends did she have? What about the many things she had at her home? She was essentially sent away to start her life all over again. Who would be happy with any of this?

Still, Russell wasn't going to sit here and just let Patricia remain this dour and sullen teen. No matter how old she was, or how much time they spent separated from one another, she was still his daughter, and he loved her dearly. He just wanted to see Patricia smile.

“I'm happy your mother sent you over the summer," said Russell, a smile on his face as he tried to lift the mood, “I can easily enroll you in Bellview Academy, so you can complete senior year without missing a beat. I'm sure all of your credits from Taylor Academy will transfer over."

“Hmm..."

Again, Russell glanced over, and again, he only saw the side of Patricia's face as she was still focused on her phone. It drew a sigh from him as he was trying so hard to open some sort of dialogue with her, but she wasn't even trying to meet him halfway. Maybe he needed to be more forward with her?

“You know... your friend Mia Crowley, right?" he asked as he again smiled, “You remember her? You two grew up with one another when you still lived in Bellview. She goes to Bellview Academy, and she still lives nearby. Maybe you two could hang out sometime."

“Hmm..."

Again, his attempts were met with disinterest. Annoyed himself, Russell palmed the side of his head and gave a slight groan. Even that failed to garner a reaction from his daughter.

“Piper," he said, his tone growing more emotional, “You don't have to be so... distant with me, okay?" he looked forward, “I... I know this probably isn't what you wanted to happen, but..." he shook his head, “That doesn't mean it has to be a bad thing."

“I don't see what's so good about it either," she replied with a roll of her eyes, “You make it sound like me moving here is something good for me. It's not. I'm not stupid, Dad. It's cuz Mom can't deal with my shit anymore, so she's pawning me off on you..." kicking up her legs, she slumped deeper into her chair, “Anyone with eyes can see that."

Russell opened his mouth to make a counterargument... but only air came out. He didn't want to speak poorly of his ex-wife, but he couldn't lie that this was exactly what Carol had done. She said it herself in her call to him. Still, that didn't mean Patricia should be burdened with this information. Nor did that mean he didn't want her.

“Piper..." he whispered, “I... look... I know this may be hard to hear, but... your mother does love you."

“Hah! Hah hah! Hah! Holy shit!" she laughed, before her tone grew morose once more, “That's the funniest thing you've said so far..."

Patricia's sardonic tone and equally cynical words caused a pit to form in Russell's stomach. Did she really think that her own mother didn't love her? Did she think that Carol hated her? He couldn't read minds, so he could only assume the worst. It was a terrible feeling.

They didn't say anything else during the car ride home.

…

Russell Gray was a world-class author. Beloved for his sci-fi stories, he was known for being able to bring pathos out of his characters unlike anyone else. Whether it be epic space operas, or tales about unthinkable cosmic horrors, he never forgot the human element. His readers could connect with his characters as if they were real, making it easy to put themselves into their shoes.

So why couldn't he do the same with his own daughter?

Gray manor was a spacious place. Resting on the fields outside of Bellview, it shared this space with the plethora of other mansions and estates that dot this land. Compared to them, it was much smaller, as it lacked a stone wall and gate. It still had a large backyard with a grand pool and patio... even though they typically went unused.

Entering inside of the mansion, Patricia looked up and around. For a moment, a rush of memories came to her, all of which having occurred over a decade ago now. When she was much younger, these halls seemed too large. She'd spend hours running from one end of this house to the other, discovering all the nooks and crannies within them. Now that she was an adult, it all felt so...

Hm...

“Do you remember your bedroom?" asked Russell as he walked up behind his daughter with her luggage in tow.

“Yeah, I remember..." she answered, “Did you clean it up before I came back?"

“Clean it up?" he repeated, “I never did anything. You probably don't remember it too well, but we cleaned the room out when you and your mother moved away," he shook his head, “It's been that way ever since. I never changed it into anything or... yeah..." he pointed at the stairs, “Go ahead on up. You said you had a headache from the flight, right? Jet lag'll get to you sooner or later so... go ahead and relax."

“Yeah. Sure."

Standing aside, Russell watched as Patricia grabbed her suitcase's handle and then headed up the stairs. Even the way she walked seemed to lack energy or care for her surroundings. It left her father feeling stumped and disappointed... with himself.

Palming his head, Russell audibly groaned as his eyes closed shut. For a brief moment, memories of the past came flooding to him, thinking of all the time he spent with his daughter. From the moment she was born all the way up to the time she left him, those memories came flooding into his mind. It left him wondering... where did it all go wrong?

Russell didn't ponder it for too long. Gripping the bridge of his nose instead, he gave a deep breath and sighed before gazing away. The mistakes he made in the past would not be repeated here. He had a chance now, a chance to repair this broken relationship between himself and his daughter. Though that brought up another question.

How?

Wondering into his home's living room, Russell slipped his hands into his pockets as he gazed idly around. On various pieces of furniture, there were photos of his family from years ago. There were photos of his ex-wife Carol, yes, but most of these pictures were either family photos... or pictures of Patricia alone. This one photo here was from when she was seven, and they went to the waterfront in this lovely little town down south called Sundown Bay. Or what about this photo when they went on vacation up to Willington?

It felt like a lifetime ago. No. With how different Patricia was now, it felt like an entirely different universe. Maybe if he was there every step of the way, then her transformation into the young woman she was now could be more acceptable. Instead, he was left wondering how it happened.

“Tch... huh... this is stupid..." he muttered to himself, “I should just... ah..."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Russell decided to do the one thing that caused all this misery in the first place: Put things off until later. He was not ignorant to this, but what else could he do? He still couldn't believe that Patricia was here with him in the first place. Speaking of...

“Piper!" Russell called as he climbed up the stairs, “Piper! I know you got off the plane not too long ago, but what do you want for dinner? I can order out if you're hungry now, or... we can wait until later. Piper... Piper...?"

His words falling on deaf ears, Russell walked up to his daughter's bedroom door. It was slightly ajar, needing only a push for him to walk inside.

“Pipe... oh..."

The door swung open silently, revealing her spacious bedroom. It was like a luxurious bedroom in a penthouse with how large it was, not to mention the glass doors that led to the room's balcony. There was a vanity mirror to the wall, a desk opposing it, and a bed with a frame on it from which curtains could fall. And it all had this rustic brown color to it that gave it this studious appearance, much like the rest of the manor.

And resting in the center of the bed, completely unconscious was Patricia.

The feline couldn't even last a few minutes after her plane ride. The moment she fell into her bed, she was out like a light. Her legs were bent, her hands curled at her chin, all while she wore this relaxed expression as she blissfully slept, unaware of her father even standing there.

Seeing her sleeping drew a smile on Russell's face. He even stepped forward as if to reach out for her, only to pull back and shake his head. She looked so lovely, so peaceful. He didn't want to ruin this look. After everything that had happened, she deserved this rest.

“Sleep well, Piper," he whispered as he retreated and closed the door shut.

…

Why was Patricia here? No seriously? Why was Patricia here? Carol's words about her ran through Russell's head on repeat, but she never explained what it was their daughter did that she just couldn't 'take' anymore. He could ponder this thought for hours, maybe even days, and never really come to an answer.

It was later now than it had been before. The moon was up high, so the outdoors was layered in the darkness of the night sky. Standing in his kitchen, his fingers on his chin as he gazed out towards his silent backyard, Russell pondered what Patricia could have done that required her being sent here. It must have been something after Christmas, because Carol hadn't hinted at their daughter having done something. But that only made him more confused. What could Patricia have done in such a short amount of time that would require something so drastic?

Was she having a lot of sex? Was that it? Well... she is a growing young woman, and an attractive one at that. But... no, that didn't seem right. Then again, what did he know? He didn't know enough about his daughter to tell if she was promiscuous or not.

Maybe it was something more mundane than that. Maybe Patricia had just gotten into the roll of talking back and disobeying Carol's orders. That could be enough to have her be sent over. But... no... that didn't seem right either. Sure, Patricia was being sardonic and sassy, but nothing about her sass seemed enough to have her be sent across the country.

All of this thinking reminded Russell of something he knew all too well: He did not know who his daughter was. Maybe she was promiscuous. Maybe she wasn't. Maybe she was sassy and snarky. Maybe she wasn't. All he did know about her was that she didn't like talking a lot, and that she was a cat with black fur and blue eyes. He didn't even know what her favorite color was, or what her favorite food was, or her favorite music, or anything about her!

He knew those things about his eight-year-old daughter. His eighteen-year-old daughter on the other hand? No...

“Hhh... I feel miserable..." Russell muttered.

“That makes two of us..." a voice came ringing at the entrance.

Russell flinched then turned. Standing there, her arms crossed beneath her chest as she looked up at him with a gaze of indifference, was Patricia. Gone were her clothes from before, having been replaced with something more comfortable. And by comfortable, she was only wearing a tank top and some dolphin shorts. It was rather lax... and showed more fur and skin than he was expecting.

“P-Piper, you're up," said Russell, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, “I wasn't expecting you to wake up so soon..."

Patricia didn't respond, at least, not right away. Instead, she pulled away from the door frame and walked up to her father, gazing into his eyes with a rather pensive stare. Compared to how nonchalant her face was usually, this tight stare was surprisingly powerful. But the cat didn't look at him for too long before she walked over towards the glass doors that separated her from the backyard.

“Hm..." she mumbled to herself.

Standing at the doorway, Patricia put her fists on her hips, while Russell stood behind her. His daughter – for all of her dull and dour mannerisms – still had this bombastic strength to her. She wasn't slouching over, nor was her tail lazily dragging against the ground. Both it and her body were upright as she looked through the windows towards the backyard, while her head tilted from one side to the other.

“I remember this place," she suddenly said, “You threw a cookout here once, because... Uncle Vito bought you a grill for Christmas. But you didn't know how to use it, so you kept it in containment through spring. Then summer came, and you pulled it out. You tried making burgers and hotdogs for everyone... but it tasted like burnt, rocky shit. So we ended up buying a bunch of fast food instead."

“You... remember all of that...?" Russell muttered, to which Patricia looked over her shoulder towards him.

“Why wouldn't I? I was six..."

“Heh... I wish I remembered things from when I was six," he replied with a smirk.

“Hm..."

For a moment, Patricia again looked out towards the backyard, before turning around. Walking over towards the island counter, the feline crossed her arms and leaned upon it, then looked her father in the eye.

For several more moments they stood like this, silent on both ends. Patricia was wearing this dismissive and apathetic face, while Russell looked back wearing a face of confusion. Why was she looking at him like this? Why wasn't she saying anything? Was she trying to start a conversation or something?

“Piper..." he muttered before straightening up, “Oh! Right. Piper, what do you want for dinn--"

“Why didn't you date anyone else?" she suddenly asked, cutting him off.

Russell flinched for a moment, both shocked that she interrupted him, and also shocked by her question. She even asked it without breaking her expression! But, whoa there, why did she ask that question in general?

“Why didn't I date anyone...?" Russell even repeated, as if he had misheard his daughter.

“I looked around the house for a little bit," said his daughter, “I saw all the pictures you kept of our family. They're everywhere. I even looked in the laundry room, thinking I'd find some other woman's panties, but..." she shook her head, “Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Dad... do you really live in this house alone?"

How odd. He swore he heard something in her voice, something that sounded like a trace of concern. But Russell wasn't sure if she really was concerned, or if his mind was playing tricks on him. Whatever it may be, he shrugged his shoulders before dropping his arm.

“Ah... I never really found the point, I guess," he answered honestly, “Or... no, that's not true. I just... didn't have the time. I was so focused on my writing, I didn't give myself time to date anyone. Doesn't matter anyway. The few times I did date, I didn't really feel anything from it."

For a moment, Russell paused. Why did he answer her? This was his daughter! Was it normal for single parents to speak with their children about dating? Maybe... but it didn't feel normal. Then again, who was he to talk? He didn't know what was and wasn't normal when it came to talking to his child.

He didn't have the right to create such barriers.

“Why do you ask...?"

“I was just curious," Patricia answered as she straightened up from the island counter, “You can get whatever you want, Dad. I'll probably eat it. The airplane's food was fucking awful. I don't know what I'm sicker of; the flight itself, or its shit food."

Without another word, Patricia exited the kitchen, leaving Russell behind. He watched his daughter leave, his hand reaching out for her. He wanted to talk to her about something – anything – but he felt like there was this invisible wall between the two of them. Her seemingly random question didn't help things either.

He wanted to know his daughter. He so desperately wanted to know everything about her. But he found it to be difficult.

Why?

…

Why Piper? Why was Patricia's nickname, Piper? It was her nickname for herself in a way. They called her Patricia for years, and of course, started calling her 'Patty' for shorthand. She must have been, like, four, when he first called her 'Patty' out of the blue. And even for a toddler, hearing that name come out of his lips, caused his daughter to stick out her tongue in disgust.

Patty? No, no, no! That would not do! Patties are things that you eat! Not the name for a cute cat! So he came up with another nickname for her. How about 'Tricia'? She preferred that to Patty... but she didn't really like 'Tricia' either. So why not Pepper? Oh, she really liked Pepper. He remembered the toothy grin she wore on her lips when he called her 'Pepper' for the first time.

So they decided on calling her 'Pepper'! Simple, right? Then – only a few minutes later – he had a slip of the tongue calling her. Instead of saying 'Pepper', he said 'Piper'. And if Patricia liked the name 'Pepper', she really REALLY liked Piper! Even at five-years-old, she launched herself into her father's awaiting arms, who easily picked and lifted her up.

So it was re-decided. Instead of Pepper, it was Piper. And Piper loved it.

That memory replayed in Russell's mind as he stared at this photo of his daughter. It was taken when she was six, and they were on a trip to visit her grandparents. They lived near these swampy marshes, and being a toddler who loved chasing small things, she spent a lot of her time catching frogs and lizards.

This image was of Patricia, holding up a frog to the camera as she wore this big beaming smile on her proud face. Whenever he gazed upon the photo, it reminded him of that lovely weekend, and how he wouldn't mind going back to simpler times.

There was nothing simple about what was happening now.

Gazing away from the photo, Russell's eyes gazed across his office room. It was a spacious room with large glass windows, a bookcase at the back, a fireplace in the corner, and of course, his desk from which he spent many, many hours of the day. Upon his desk was the computer he used to write his stories, as well as three photos of his family.

Was it still odd to have so many pictures of his ex-wife resting around? He had never thought about it for too long until Patricia brought it up earlier. He only kept them around because they were family photos, and despite their divorce, he did miss his family. He'd always miss his family.

But now as he gazed upwards towards the door, he wondered if that family even existed anymore. Carol was a vastly different woman from the person he married years ago, and he was still trying to wrap his head around how Patricia changed. It left him understandably flummoxed as he wondered what he could do to help his daughter feel more at home.

His daughter...

Getting up from his chair, Russell slowly exited his office and began walking down the halls of his manor. He came across Patricia's door and opened it... but it was empty on the other end. For a moment his eyes settled in, before he looked back down. Turning around, he headed downstairs, where he heard the TV was on. Approaching the living room, he gazed upon his television, seeing some movie being played, something about a bank heist. It wasn't like Patricia was paying attention.

His daughter laid on the couch, resting on her back as her camera was up to her face. She was still wearing the same thin tank top from before, with the same dolphin shorts, and the same despondent face. Her thumbs were tapping and swiping at her screen as she was completely focused on whatever it was she was looking at. That left Russell to stand there, gazing upon her as his hand rested on the couch's spine.

Patricia was a very beautiful young woman, and with her rather light attire on, that beauty of hers was on full display. From her shapely legs and thighs, to her narrow waist, and those larger than average breasts, she was no doubt turning the head of plenty of boys whom she crossed the path of. Even her indifferent face added to her innate allure. Like she was this cool, unapproachable beauty that no one would dare speak to. Yes, even when she was practically in her underwear.

Russell always thought she was cute, but now that cuteness had matured. And with that matured beauty of hers, he realized just how developed she was. He marveled at her body, her thighs, her navel, and her chest. Even the tank top she wore sported a fair bit of her cleavage, which was rising and lowering with her every breath.

When a man and a woman are alone in a building, maybe moments like this are bound to happen. Eyes would wonder, realizing something about the other that they hadn't realized before. And Russell himself was realizing something about his daughter.

She was attractive. And he wasn't saying that from the position of a father who admits to the beauty of his daughter. No, he was saying that as... something else.

“Is something wrong, Dad?" asked Patricia as she shot him a sideways glance, “You're just standing there silently. Is something on my face."

“Wh-what? N-no," he said with a shake of his head, “I was just... hm..."

Russell paused and put his hand on his head, where he gave a deep breath. Why was this so difficult? The awkwardness of the situation was choking him, making it hard to even talk to his daughter. All the while, Patricia continued wearing this nonchalant face, with the most movement out of her being a slightly raised eyebrow.

“Dad...?" she muttered.

“I just... hah... I just want to talk," Russel said as he walked around to her side, “You're here with me in Bellview. We haven't lived together in over ten years. Sure, I'd come and visit, but..." he shook his head, “That's different from what we have going on now. So..." a smile appeared on his lips, “Come on. Talk to me, Piper. How do you feel?"

“Like, whatever, I guess..." she muttered back.

“Like... whatever...?" he repeated, confused.

“Yeah, like, whatever. I feel 'whatever'. I'm here with you. Sure. Fine. Whatever. It's no different from being with Mom," her eyes returned to the phone, “Look, Dad, you don't have to force yourself to act like you like me or anything. Mom didn't even bother trying to act like she gave a shit."

Russell's face grew long. This coupled with how she laughed earlier at his statement that Carol loved her, really made him wonder if Patricia thought that he and her mother hated her. It also left him confused. How was he supposed to respond to that?

“Piper..." he whispered, “I do like you. Don't think that I dislike you."

“Tch. Yeah? You like me, Dad?" she said as she pulled her eyes away from her phone.

Patricia's face had shifted, no longer being this gaze of apathy and disinterest. Instead, it had been replaced with something arguably worse: Disdain. She looked at Russell like he had insulted her intelligence, and it annoyed her to know end. It was the most emotion he had received from her since she'd gotten off the plane. If only it wasn't so negative.

“If you like me so much, Dad, then what's my favorite color?" she asked.

Russell opened his mouth to answer it... but all that came out was hot air. He knew her favorite color when she was a child; that was yellow, because it was the same color as the butterflies she loved to chase. But, again, that was her favorite color as a child. That's not her favorite color now, was it?

“Fine then..." muttered Patricia as she leaned up further in her chair, “What's my favorite food then?"

Another question Russell could answer... but only in relation to his younger daughter. Patricia's favorite food was seafood, specifically, that seafood pasta that her mother could make. She absolutely loved all the cheese, the noodles, and the shrimp and fish that she cut up into it. But when was the last time she's ever even had seafood pasta? Did Carol make it for her often in Oceanside?

“Okay. Last question," Patricia continued on, “What's my favorite music."

Dammit. Russell couldn't just sit here quietly. He knew the answers... but he doubted them as well. Who is to say that what she liked as a child, she still liked now? Putting it lightly, he didn't know anything about the Patricia of the now. And his daughter realized that.

“Yeah. Figures..." she muttered whilst returning to her phone, “Hm..."

Russell palmed his head, feeling this mixture of defeat and frustration. But who was he frustrated with: Patricia, or himself? It was himself. He knew it was himself. They may have spent years away from one another, but that was no excuse to know so little about his daughter. Such simple things.

Such simple things...

“Patricia..." he whispered, but she remained silent.

He didn't have it in him to keep this going on further either. It left Russell feeling pathetic and milquetoast. She was his daughter. He was the father. He shouldn't be the one who was left feeling so lackluster!

But...

The evidence was as clear as day. Russell didn't know who Patricia was. She was a stranger to him: a completely unknown woman who had suddenly moved into his house one day. Sure, she shared the same species, name, and even the eyes of his daughter, but that's where things came to an end.

Who was Patricia Gray? Russell was forced to ponder that as he stood up.

“I'll... I'll be back in a moment..." he muttered.

“Sure. Whatever..." she replied.

What a lovely way to round out their first night together.

…

The gilded light of the morning sun pierced through Russell's windows, where they teased his face. He flinched, then groaned, before groggily pulling his head up from the surface of his desk. His desk? Oh... he went to sleep in his office... again. To make matters worse, this throbbing pain pushed through his head, telling him something else.

He was hungover.

Teeth gritted, Russell gazed along the surface of his desk, where he saw a half drunk bottle of scotch, and a tiny shot glass resting next to it. He drank a little too much last night, much to his chagrin. It painted a blush of embarrassment on his cheeks. He'd need to take some hangover pills, and quick.

“Haaahh... good job, Russell," he muttered to himself, “And with Patricia here too? What are you trying to say about yourself...?"

On unsteady feet and with a throbbing headache, Russell slowly stumbled his way through the door and down the hall. For a moment, he paused at Patricia's door... where he again noticed it was open. But when he peered through it, he saw nothing.

Was she already up? Oh, that's not good!

Pulling back, Russell thought for a moment about taking a shower to hopefully make himself look presentable, but he really needed those hangover pills. If he just rushed down to the kitchen where he kept them, then maybe he could avoid Patricia, and she wouldn't see him in such a disheveled state.

How odd. He's never cared before about how his hangovers made him look. Then again, he lived by himself, so who did he have to disappoint? Now things were different. Now he had to sneakily creep his way downstairs, where he approached the kitchen. Again he paused, looking around to see if Patricia was there. She wasn't.

“Oh thank... huh?"

Then he paused.

The glass doors to the backyard patio were open. Had Patricia gone out for a morning walk? Well, that gave him time to slip over to his medicine cabinet, open it up, pull out that aspirin, and--

“Sniff... Sniff... Is that... smoke?"

Russell's eyes grew wide, and he quickly turned to face the glass doors. Drifting through them was the smell of smoke... cigarette smoke to be exact. It made his nose curl, and he even coughed. Hey, he may drink a lot of scotch, but he doesn't smoke.

Confused, he walked towards the door while downing his pills of aspirin, and slipped through them. On the other side was his massive backyard patio, with the pool in the middle, and the grass beyond it. And resting there on a lounging chair beneath the morning sun was Patricia.

And she was smoking.

His daughter laid there, wearing what he could only assume to be the same tank top and dolphin shorts she wore all day yesterday. Resting on her stomach, her legs were crossed and feet were dangling in the air, while one hand propped up her head and the other hand held a cigarette between her fingers. Once, twice, thrice, she'd take a puff off her cigarette, before blowing that noxious smog into the air without a care in the world.

As the initial shock of seeing his daughter smoke began to wash off of him, Russell took a few moments to gaze at her. Her slender, feline back widened out into this erotic, peach-shaped butt. And the way it lumped up exposed a surprising size to it.

Patricia may be a person who didn't emote often, but no one could deny the sheer beauty and eroticism of her body.

W-wait! What was he thinking!? That was his daughter!

“P-Patricia!" Russell called, causing her ears to twitch and her tail to straighten up.

“Shit, Dad," she muttered whilst turning to face him, her free hand resting along her chest, “Did you have to shout like that? You hurt my ears."

“Patricia Gray! What are you doing!?" he snapped, to which she looked around in confusion.

“Hm? I'm just... enjoying my morning," she said with a shrug of her shoulders, “Why? Is something wrong?"

“Yes!" he said whilst pointing at her hand, “A cigarette? You're smoking?"

She tilted her head at him as her face grew confused.

“Well... yeah," she answered, “Why, what's wrong?"

“What's wrong?" he said whilst looking her up and down, “How can you be so blasé about this? Patricia! You are only eighteen! You shouldn't be smoking!"

“Oh, cut that shit, Dad," she muttered before taking another puff of her cigarette, “Fffuuuuh... haaaaaah...! You said it yourself; I'm eighteen. Last time I checked, the legal age to smoke is eighteen. Heh heh...!"

Her laugh at the end made it very clear to him that she was smoking well before her eighteenth birthday. Here he was, his nose curling from the scent of tobacco, while his daughter casually smoked a cigarette like a seasoned pro.

“When did you start smoking?" he asked, garnering an annoyed glare from his daughter.

“Don't know," she replied, “It got kinda stressful over on Oceanside. I needed to relax. So I picked up smoking..." she then grinned, even chuckled, “What about you, Dad? When did you start drinking so heavily? Heh heh...! I can smell the alcohol off of your breath!"

Russell flinched. Right, his daughter was a cat; of course she'd be able to smell the alcohol on him. Still, this wasn't a talk about him and his bad habits, this was about her and her bad habits!

“Patricia..."

“Stop that..." she muttered, making him flinch.

“Stop... what?"

“Stop that! Stop calling me 'Patricia'," she said, putting extra emphasis on her name where she said it in a mocking manner, “Whenever you call me 'Patricia', it's like you're trying to get tough on me or something. Almost like you're trying to act like a Dad..." she shook her head, “Just stick to Piper..."

He leered at her and stepped forward.

“I'll call you by your name, Patricia," he growled as he too emphasized her name, “Ggh... what's gotten into you? You're smoking and you don't want me to call you by your name? Are you okay? Look, if something's wrong, you can just--"

“What? Talk to you?" she replied as she stood up, her face one of annoyance.

Taking a final puff of her cigarette, Patricia burned it all the way down to its filter, then dropped it to the ground and crushed it beneath her foot.

“If it makes you feel better, I won't smoke around you. Other than that..." she started walking past him, “Stop trying to act like my fucking father..."

Russell turned, watching Patricia enter back into the manor while he stood there. Outwardly, he was indignant and frustrated. How dare she be so callous with him of all people? He was her father; she should show him some respect!

But deep down inside... he couldn't really argue with her. While he still wanted to be respected, he couldn't say that she was wrong. After all these years, him coming out and trying to 'lay down the law' as it were, must have come off as being annoying in its own right. Who was he to give her orders after all these years of not being there? He was trying to act like her father now, when for ten years he hadn't been a father at all.

Just some guy who'd visit her on occasion.

“Haaah... shit..."

Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Russell gave a defeated sigh then looked down to the cigarette butt. He was gonna have to clean this up.

…

Who was Patricia Gray? What did she like? What did she dislike? What did she hope to accomplish in this world? What did she want to be when she grew up? All questions he could answer when it came to his eight-year-old daughter. Not so much for his eighteen-year-old daughter.

Well, there is one way to figure it out!

Following their... less than stellar meeting earlier in the day, Russell figured it was best to try and learn these things about his daughter. And what's the best way to learn about a person? Dinner of course!

It was just a little past five o'clock, and Russell was looking himself over in his mirror. He had combed his hair, even brushed his goatee, all to make him look presentable. Then there was his clothes, which while he always wore formal clothing, now appeared even more professional. This silver button-up shirt, these black slacks, even a small black bowtie. Coupled with the dinner jacket he slipped on his shoulders, he practically transformed into some suave spy.

Russell smiled at himself. His hangover from earlier that day was nothing more than a distant memory. Even Patricia's earlier disrespect wasn't enough to diminish how good he felt. What he had planned would be the first step towards salvaging the relationship he had with his daughter. It would take time, but now that she was living with him, he had plenty of it.

He wouldn't let it go to waste. Not this time...

Emerging from his bedroom, Russell walked down the hall towards Patricia's room, where he knocked on her door.

“Piper?" he called.

“Yeah...?" her voice came answering... from around the corner.

Russell's eyes widened. And... sniff sniff... was he smelling soap?

He turned, facing in the direction of his daughter's voice. His eyes fell on Patricia... a very naked Patricia. A Patricia who only had a towel wrapped around her chest for modesty. Her ebony pelt shimmered in the light of the hallway, while her long hair was freed of their braids, allowing them to messily fall along her face. With one hand up to her chest to keep her towel up, her other hand brushed back some of her hair so that she could look her father in the eyes.

A blush formed on Russell's face and he flinched as he came face-to-face with his daughter. He was shocked by what he was seeing. Patricia was as nonchalant as ever.

“Something wrong?" asked his daughter as she placed her hands on her hips, “Why are you looking at me like that?"

“I...! You...!" he mumbled back, “You... t-took a shower?"

“Well... duh..." she murmured, “I didn't shower last night cuz I was really tired from the flight. Since I had nothing else better to do, I thought I'd shower now..." she then looked him up and down, “What's with the getup? Are you heading to one of your book signings or something?"

“I... n-no..." said Russell as he covered his face, his cheeks turning even redder, “I... I dressed up because... I wanted to... to..."

“To... what...?"

“Gah... just go and put on some clothes," he said as he turned around, “I'll tell you when you get out of your room."

“You could just tell me now," said Patricia as she walked up behind her father, “What's wrong with talking to me right now? What... are you like..." Fwmp... “Afraid of seeing my tits or something?"

“I...!?"

That... that sound he just heard. Was that the sound of Patricia dropping her towel? Did his daughter expose herself behind him? Why did she do that!?

Right behind him – only a foot or two away – was the wet and naked body of an attractive young woman. All he needed to do was turn around, and he'd see it.

No! What the hell was wrong with him!?

“Piper..." he mumbled, annoyed with his daughter's pestering, “Just go put on some clothes. Please."

“Okay. All you had to do was ask," she said sarcastically.

Keeping his eyes locked on the opposing side of the hall, Russell listened as Patricia entered into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Immediately after, he let loose a deep breath and turned around. The hall was empty. That's good.

What the hell was that? Why would she do that? Why would she say those words? She was his daughter, yet she was treating him like some man she was just living with!

…

…

…

Wait. That's it, isn't it? Sure, she called him 'Dad', but she was acting like he was just a guy she was living with. Like this mansion was an apartment, and they lived two completely different lives separate from one another. It was still weird to act so flippantly around her father, but he understood where she was coming from.

That's why he wanted to do this. That's why he had to do this. He didn't want to be one of those fathers who barely knows who his child is.

“Piper..." he mumbled as he loomed outside of her door, “Piper, do you hear me?"

“Yeah. I hear you," she answered, “What's up?"

“Uh... I want you to get dressed," he replied, “I'm not dressed myself because I'm going to some book signing or whatever. This is your second night here, so... I want to take you out to eat dinner. Just you and me, of course. We'll go wherever you want, and... we'll just talk. How does that sound?"

“Great... I guess..." she said with that dry, sardonic tone.

Russell frowned and shook his head, then pulled away from his daughter's door. Slumping away from the staircase, he briefly wondered if he was making the right decision, only to just as quickly dismiss those thoughts.

No. If he sat here and did nothing, he'd only be repeating the same mistakes that led to his family's separating in the first place! He was smarter than this, wiser too. He needed to be patient.

Patient...

“Okay. I'm ready," said Piper as her door opened up.

Yellow. When Russell turned to face her, the one word that came to mind for him was yellow.

Patricia had a vest on her shoulders, one that was open. Mostly yellow, it had white edges, a white collar, and white cuffs. Beneath it she was wearing a yellow and white shirt with spaghetti straps, and also a good few inches shy of covering her midsection and navel. On her legs she wore a pleated skirt, one that was mostly yellow with a white edge. Oh, yeah, and it too barely came down to cover her thighs. Wait... was she wearing white fishnet stockings beneath them?

And her hair had been braided back into those pigtails of hers.

For several moments, Russell stood there, drinking in the image of his daughter. With the clothes she wore and the way she stood, Patricia could easily pass by as a supermodel. She had the innate beauty to easily pull it off. Hell, even her morose and indifferent face added to her natural allure.

“Piper..." muttered her father... before he leaned upright and smiled, “You look great."

“Hm..." she replied whilst averting her eyes, “It's whatever. I used to wear it all the time over in Oceanside, so it's not really original," she shook her head and looked back, “You look good too, I guess. A bit too... formal, but... you always wear suits and ties and stuff."

It was slight, but the compliment was still strong enough to warm his heart. It at least showed that on some level that she cared.

“Alright. C'mon," said Russell as he turned to walk down the stairs, “We can go wherever you want."

“Hm... I don't know about that," said Patricia as she followed her father, “I don't know where I am, so I don't know what restaurants are big here in Bellview. So... you choose. I'm sure I'll like it, wherever we eat."

Russell nodded. Fortunately for her, he knew the perfect place to go!

Heading towards his car, Russell walked with an excited spring in his step. Quite out of character for a man who was usually very stiff and refined. Patricia however, was still the same dour and glum feline she had proven herself to be. No matter how vibrant her clothing was, they did little to diminish the gloomy air that hovered around her.

Once they climbed into his car, Russell had it on and they were driving off. The excitement he had was still palpable as he was smiling from cheek to cheek, and humming along with the music playing in his car. But then his eyes would travel over towards Patricia, where he again noticed how she sat there, utterly focused on her phone.

Russell frowned and gazed ahead... but his eyes did not remain on the road for long. When they came to a red light, he once more looked at his daughter, who had relaxed against the chair she sat in. Reclined as she was, it caused her to inadvertently push out her chest. And with her chest pushed out, he could see the incredible depths of her cleavage.

Patricia was busty, with breasts so shapely and large. So shapely and large in fact, that her top was pushed up by them, causing it to hang over her bosom like a curtain. Watching them rise up and down with her every breath, caused Russell's own breathing to stiffen.

“The light is green, Dad..." Patricia suddenly said, snapping him from his lecherous gazing.

“Ah! R-right! Sorry about that," he apologized as he put his foot to the gas pedal, “I guess I wasn't paying attention."

“Hmm..."

His daughter didn't even look away from her phone when she spoke to him, nor did she look away when he gave his halfhearted response. No, no; her blue eyes remained locked on that phone while her father once again drove towards their destination. Closer and closer they came to the restaurant, but when they came to a four-way intersection with another red light... his eyes began wondering once more.

Patricia's legs were crossed over one another as she sat in the car, giving him a flattering view of them. So shapely, with surprisingly plump thighs, but not too plump. They were just perfect, and the way they widened out into her hips only flaunted more the erotic shape of her body.

Wait... erotic shape of her body? Why were these thoughts coming through his head? Blushing furiously as he looked ahead again, Russell attempted to justify the blatantly lecherous thoughts he was suffering. This was his daughter for Pete's sake! There has to be some justification for the things he was thinking!

Right?

“You are... a... very beautiful young woman," said Russell.

No, he wasn't gazing at his daughter like some incestuous pervert! He was only marveling at her beauty! Yeah, that's it!

Rrriiiiigghht.

“Thanks, I guess..." Patricia muttered back, her eyes still locked on the phone.

Taking a deep breath, Russell did his best to dispel these terrible thoughts. To do this, he remained quiet, and kept his eyes locked on the roads in front of them. He didn't say another word, didn't even steal a quick glance at his daughter. No, no. It was just him, the car, the road... and their eventual destination.

Rosé Gardens. It was a high-class and exotic place, one whose exterior would remind someone of a French villa. White walls, shingle roofs, even grass growing up certain walls to give it the flair of being some aged and majestic structure. A plethora of cars were parked outside of the place despite how expensive it was. That's just how good the food was.

“Right this way," said Russell with a bit of excitement as he parked his car outside.

“Mm-hm," Patricia replied nonchalantly.

He circled around to her side of the car, attempting to help her out like a gentleman would. She didn't seem to care. He opened her door, yeah, but when he extended his hand to guide her, she ignored it completely and stood on her own. She didn't even say anything, instead looking back down to her phone as she began walking towards the entrance of the restaurant, leaving Russell alone momentarily.

He sighed... and then followed.

Entering inside Rosé Gardens, Russell was quick to request a seat, while Patricia gazed around in curiosity. The insides of the restaurant were smooth and brown, with this majestic French architecture to further the idea that they were eating in a lavish mansion of sorts. And yet, the feline continued gazing around in indifference; as if what she was looking at was ultimately uninteresting.

“This way, Mr. Gray," said a waitress, causing Patricia to turn and face her.

She was a young woman. Well, younger than her father, but older than she was. Perhaps in her late twenties, early thirties. On her face was this wide smile, and she looked up at Russell with a sense of familiarity. Curious.

“Oh, Karen," he replied with a smile of his own, “Good to see you're working today," he turned, “C'mon, Piper."

“Uh-huh..."

They followed along the waitress, with Patricia paying attention to how jittery and excited she was despite the fact that she was walking. Russell remained more at ease, more neutral with the situation, even though he'd turn occasionally to smile in his daughter's way. She remained focused on the woman in front of them wondering, her head tilting from one side to the other.

“Right here, Mr. Gray," said the waitress as they came to a chair on the second floor, “I always try to keep your favorite spot open for you during my shift; just in case you show up."

“How thoughtful of you," said Russell with a smile, before he turned to face his daughter, “Right here, Piper."

“Hm..."

As she sat down at the table, Patricia watched as Karen turned to face her. She was still smiling, but appeared confused by the feline's mere existence.

“Good evening, Ma'am," said the waitress with a courteous bow, “Are you friends with Mr. Gray?"

“No," Patricia answered with that trademark indifference of hers, “I'm his escort. He wanted to take me out for a date first before we find some shitty motel somewhere and fuck like a couple of animals."

Patricia's deliverance was completely flat and monotone, speaking as if she was talking about the time of day, or the weather outside. Naturally, her words left Karen completely blindsided, who looked at her with her mouth agape and eyes wide. Russell did likewise, staring at his daughter like she'd grown a second head!

“Wh-wha...?" muttered the waitress, causing him to straighten up.

“It's a joke!" Russell shouted, before calming down and quietly repeating with, “I-it's a joke..." he then turned, facing the waitress with a smile, “She isn't an escort. This is my daughter, Patricia Gray. She's moved back over from living with her mother."

“Your... daughter...?" said Karen as she looked back at the cat, “You... you have a daughter...?"

Trying to compare the two by eyesight alone was next to impossible. Russell was a human. Patricia was a cat. The only thing they shared in common were their blue eyes and black hair. But when she gazed at said eyes – and really looked into them – Karen could tell that they were the same eyes. The only difference between Patricia's slit, feline pupils.

“Oh... I see..." said the waitress, while Russell laughed sheepishly.

“Sorry! Piper's sense of humor is a bit... unique," he said, trying to dispel the awkward air around them.

“Well then..." Karen muttered, her eyes darting between Russell and Patricia, “Uh... sh-should I get your usual, Mr. Gray?"

“Yes. I'd love some!"

“And... you, Miss Gray...?"

Patricia looked up at Karen, still wearing an emotionless expression. The waitress was rather intimidated by the adolescent feline. She just looked so... unconcerned.

“I'll have what he's having..." she said with that dry tone of hers.

Both the waitress and Russell looked at one another, before her father coughed to try and dispel the awkward air that once again appeared around them.

“Um... Piper..." he muttered, “I usually get a spot of wine while I'm here..."

“Oh? Really?" said Patricia with mock surprise, “And here I thought my dad would never drink a bit of alcohol before driving! That's so unlike you..." she then pulled out her phone, looking at it nonchalantly, “Just get me some Kola or whatever..."

“R-right away...!"

Karen turned and left, walking away with jittery movements. That left Russell, who turned to face his despondent daughter. She was again focused on her phone, ignoring the outside world and her father, even though he was looking directly at her.

“Piper..." he grumbled.

“Hm?" she answered.

“Just... ah! P-put down the phone for a second, Piper! C'mon! We're here at this restaurant, just you and I. Let's... ya'know..." he shrugged his shoulders, “Let's talk, okay? Just for a little while. Just to make time go by..."

“Haaaah..."

With the same rudeness of any teenager, Patricia dropped her arm and rolled her eyes. She even groaned in annoyance, but then her gaze snapped back forward, looking at her father as she leaned in. He stiffened in place. With the way his daughter was leaning on the table, she caused her chest to swell against the thin top she was wearing.

“That girl seemed pretty flirty-flirty with you," his daughter muttered, “What's that all about?"

“Wh-what? That girl...?" he mumbled before looking over his shoulder, “Do you mean... Karen?"

“Yeah," she said, head tilting to the side, “She was all jumpy and happy to see you. Her tone was high-pitched and cutesy. She even said she saved this seat for you because she was on shift. So... what's that all about? Is she your booty call or something? You two have a lot of wild sex?"

“P-Piper...!" Russell groaned through gritted teeth, “We're out in public. Could you please keep your immoral jokes in check?"

Patricia tilted her head to the opposite side.

“I'm not joking..." she mumbled, “You're a single guy and she's a cute girl. I bet you two get up to a lot of sex. I mean... did you see her face when I said I was your escort? She looked so disappointed. Either she's really your booty call, or she really wants to be your booty call..."

“I...! Nnggh...!"

Russell groaned and leaned forward, his hand resting on his forehead. A few times he rubbed himself, before looking his daughter in the eyes. She was still leaning forward on the table, still shamelessly presenting the cleavage of her top, and flaunting the voluptuousness of her bosom. That was a joke too, right? A taunt? A tease?

What was he thinking? Again, Patricia was his daughter! He needed to get that through his head! She may dress skimpily, but that was her prerogative! It's not like he was in much of a position to dictate how she dressed or acted, considering how much of a non-entity he was in her life! So he took in a deep breath, hoping that would get his mind straight.

“Patricia..." he whispered, before shaking his head, “No, Karen and I are not in some illicit affair. I just... eat here often, that's all."

“Hmph..."

Patricia appeared incredulous to such a claim, almost annoyed. Did she think he was lying to her? What would he gain for doing such a thing? And... why did she seem to care so heavily about his relationships? Just like yesterday when she asked why he didn't date anyone.

“Piper... do you want me to date someone?" he asked, causing her to pull back.

She looked at him like he'd asked something completely deranged as her face turned perplexed.

“Why would I care if you dated someone or not?" she asked, “I don't give a shit. You're a grown-ass man. Date whoever you wanna date. Fuck whoever you wanna fuck. I was just shocked you hadn't yet. Like, shit, Mom had a buncha guys coming in and out of her home. They grew so numerous, I stopped caring about even learning their names. I thought you'd be the same but..." she shrugged her shoulders, “Whatever..."

What's more awkward? His daughter taking such interest in his romantic life? Or hearing how his ex-wife had a lot of men coming through her home? Both made Russell's stomach turn.

It wasn't just that Patricia was often asking questions about his relationship status, but it was how she asked it. She didn't just say he could date who he wanted to date, but fuck who he wanted to fuck. It was crass, blunt, and not something a daughter should be saying of her father.

“Piper..." he muttered, “Why are you asking these questions so much? Why do you care about if I'm dating someone or not...?"

“I don't care," she answered... though her eyes glanced to the side, “I just wanted to know cuz of how Mom was always dating guys. Heh..." her eyes snapped back, “Or maybe I was just worried that I was gonna ruin some secret relationship you were in."

“Ruin...? What do you mean by that?"

“Heh heh... c'mon, Dad, isn't it obvious?" she replied as she leaned in closer, “I'm a young, impressionable girl who's living with famed author Russell Gray. We stay together, all alone in his mansion. Heh... who knows what's going on behind those walls?"

“What are you talking about...?" Russell said with an eyebrow raised, “Patricia, you're my daughter."

“Yeah. I know that, and you know that. But does anyone else know that?" she asked, “That Karen girl didn't even know you had a daughter, so I know you don't tell many people you have one."

“W-well... it... it just never... c-came up in conversation..."

“Uh-huh. Sure..." Patricia replied, “Doesn't change the fact that to some, I might just be your sugar baby."

“My... what!?"

“Hah hah ha! Yeaaaah. I'm Patricia: Russell Gray's sugar baby!"

“P-Piper! Please, these jokes are... growing outlandish!"

“Maybe. Maybe not," Patricia replied as her laughter fell flat, and her face returned to that dour expression she always wore, “Let's face it, Dad, you and I don't really feel like a father and daughter, do we? And don't say something like 'What do you mean?' You know exactly what I'm talking about. I know you're smarter than me, so you've felt it too."

Still wearing this glum face, Patricia leaned forward on the table, where she rested her chin on her arms. She was looking forward, but wasn't staring at anything specifically. Just staring, and staring, and starrrinngg.

“Piper..." Russell whispered.

“When a single man and a woman live in the same place... it's only natural that..."

Her voice trailed off and her ears twitched. She then looked up, where she straightened up completely. Russell was still waiting for her to finish her sentence, but Patricia said not a word. Instead she glared at her father... before pointing directly behind him.

“Mr. Gray?" Karen said, having returned with their drinks in hand, “Your drinks are here!"

“R-right," he said as he turned to face the waitress, a smile on his face, “Thank you, Karen."

She nodded, before placing their drinks down. Russell thanked her, but it seemed as if his body was on autopilot. He and Patricia would order their meals, but even that failed to register in his mind. Once Karen left, he looked forward towards his daughter, who stared back at him with that despondent face of hers.

Neither side said a word.

…

When a single man and a woman live in the same place... it's only natural that...

What did she mean by that?

They didn't speak during their dinner. His whole plan was to talk and have fun with his daughter, maybe learn about her, and start rekindling their smoldering relationship. Instead, they just waited for their food to arrive, ate their food, then made their way back home. The entire conversation they shared left Russell so flabbergasted, that he couldn't talk anymore. What was there to say?

What made it worse was that he knew where Patricia was coming from. Try, try with all his might to ignore her scandalous words, he could not deny that some part of him agreed with her. His lecherous eyes proved it.

How many times had he inadvertently marveled at his daughter's beauty, amazed by how beautiful and erotic her shape was? The contours of her frame, the heft of her bosom, the shapeliness of her hips and thighs. Patricia was marvelous, and any single man would count his lucky stars to live with her.

This should have been simple. He should have just seen Patricia as who she was; his daughter. But while his mind said that, and he acknowledged that as true, his body – and his feelings – felt otherwise. He couldn't help but to see Patricia as what she was, and not who she was.

A young, vulnerable girl.

What time was it now? It felt like a blur after dinner. When they got home, he retreated to his office and stowed himself within. Russell didn't know what Patricia was doing, and quite frankly, he preferred not knowing. It was better to sit alone at his desk, questioning his intentions with his own daughter and the peculiar relationship they shared.

What a stellar start to her staying here...

Occasionally, Russell would gaze at his mini fridge, where collected within was a bottle of scotch. He could easily reach inside and pour himself a cup or two to hopefully steady his nerves... but he didn't. The last thing he wanted to do was make himself look like an alcoholic by waking up in the morning with a hangover... again.

So he looked away from his mini fridge and instead gazed towards his computer screen. On it was an empty document, waiting to be filled with whatever words he could write. However, he lacked the drive to write, and instead felt his eyes start to wonder once again. This time, his gaze fell upon the photos on his desk.

Specifically, a photo of Patricia.

Whenever he felt drained by his daughter's morose antics, merely gazing at a picture of her as a child was enough to pump life into him. Russell even straightened up and grabbed the photo, where he brought it closer. Gently, his thumb brushed along its glass cover, while he gazed at the slumbering kitten on the other end.

She was seven when this photo was taken. It was spring, and they were coming home from a day out at an amusement park. All throughout the day, Patricia tugged her parents along with her to every attraction she was allowed to ride. Didn't matter if it was the slow moving bumper cars, or the fastest kiddie roller coaster in the world, she rode them all. Naturally, it left her drain. Poor kitten couldn't even walk back to the car; Russell had to carry her.

When they strapped her into the back seat though, he and Carol took a few moments to look at her sleeping so cutely. Their relationship may have been going downward at the time, but they could put it aside when it came to their daughter. Russell couldn't help himself, so he took a photo of Patricia right on the spot. It wasn't until the divorce happened that he got the photo framed and placed on his desk.

The little girl in this photo was his daughter, and he loved her so much. So why couldn't he bring up that same love for the young woman living in his house? They were the same person, just separated by a decade. The same eyes, the same blood, the same soul existed within them, so why did he struggle so much to see Patricia as Patricia?

Huh...

Rising from his desk, Russell exited his office and stalked down the silent halls of his home where he came to Patricia's door. Twice he knocked on it, only for the door to slowly slide open. She wasn't here. Okay...

He started walking down the hall again, coming to the staircase. His home was large, but he figured if she wasn't in her room, she'd be in the living room. Entering into it, he opened his mouth to speak, but--

“Zzzzzzzzzz..."

“Huh...?"

Russell stopped and looked down.

Resting on his couch, eyes closed and mouth agape, was Patricia. She was sleeping; one hand resting on her stomach, while the other hand was under the couch cushion that she rested her head upon. It was a deep sleep too, for a sliver of drool was hanging from her lips.

A warm smile appeared on Russell's lips as he came across his slumbering daughter. But then his eyes started to travel along her form again, noting her clothing... or lack thereof. Gone was the – admittedly – skimpy attire she wore at the restaurant. Replacing them was what he was now realizing was her at home clothing: that thin tank top, those dolphin shorts... and these small white headphones.

In Patricia's ears were cordless headphones, ones that were playing music loud enough that Russell could hear it.

Wearing a blissfully unaware face, Patricia slept on the couch as her father loomed above her. With that music playing, she couldn't hear him either. She was practically deaf to the world... open... and defenseless.

Russell gritted his teeth as he looked at his daughter, his body stiffening. He wanted to wake her up... but for some reason, he lacked the ability to do so. Having become as still as a statue, Russell could do nothing but trace his eyes along his daughter's voluptuous body. From her beautiful face down to her dainty toes, he focused on every aspect of Patricia's body.

Every. Aspect.

Her breasts... why were they so big? They were bigger than Carol's! So bouncy as well! Without a bra on, her chest would wobble whenever she took a sharp breath. And with how slim her waist was, her bosom appeared even larger than it was. Her hips too had this curvaceousness to them, giving her an hourglass figure on such a youthful body.

Russell's breathing hitched, his chest also tightening up. For a moment, he reached his hand out for his daughter, hovering his palm above her slumbering frame. But then he pulled back and stopped, where his eyes fell on his hand.

What was he doing? What was he thinking? He hadn't even done anything yet, but shame still rose within him. But that shame couldn't stop his eyes from – once again – running up and down her body. Patricia even shifted slightly, where she rolled over onto her side and laid one leg over the other. The side profile of her body was just as wonderful as the front face view, allowing Russell to marvel at the curvature of her butt.

Why did she wear such light clothing? It exposed her midriff, flaunted her legs, presented her cleavage, all as she rested there. So free, so open... so vulnerable. If he wanted to, Russell could easily reach down, cup her chest or her bosom, give her a light squeeze, and--

Slap!

“Snrrk!? Wh-what the... fuck...?"

Blue eyes groggily opened, gazing towards their blurry surroundings. The cat heard a noise so loud, it echoed through the music in her headphones. But when she looked up, all she saw was her stiffened father... and the red hand mark on his face.

“Huh? D-Dad...?" Patricia muttered as she pulled a headphone from her ear, “Nggh...! What's going on...? Is everything okay...?"

“Y-yes, Piper," he muttered, “I was... um... j-just walking through, and saw you were sleeping..." he looked to the side, “Are you okay?"

“Yeah. I'm fine..." she replied as she leaned upright on the couch, “I didn't mean to go to sleep like I did. Guess I'm still jet lagged... hmm..." popping her headphone back into her ear, she slowly began to rise, “Guess I'll go to bed. No point in sleeping on the couch if my Dad's just gonna creepily stand above me."

“I-I wasn't creepily standing above you!" he replied defensively.

Patricia giggled. Like usual, it was just a cheeky joke to tease her father. She didn't know how accurate it was... nor how ashamed of himself Russell was for what he had done. Even if it was accidental, there was no excuse.

As he stood there, shamefaced and embarrassed, Russell pulled back to allow his daughter to stand. But when Patricia got onto her feet, she wobbled briefly... before leaning over. Grabbing a hold of her father's arm, the feline hugged him close, embracing his arm between the cleavage of her busty breasts. It wasn't a light hold either; it was a tight squeeze, one that really let him feel the shape, size, and pliability of her bosom through her thin tank top.

Russell stiffened up, his eyes grew wide, and his cheeks turned even redder. All the while, Patricia closed her eyes and gave a deep yawn.

“Ew. Gross..." she mumbled, “I gotta hold onto you for support. I'm too tired to move myself. Just... help me get to my room."

“Y-yeah. S-sure..."

Together, Russell and Patricia headed for her bedroom. And each step along the way, he tried to be as straitlaced as possible. Easier said than done.

Occasionally, he'd glance towards his daughter and how she hugged his arm. Not only were her breasts squeezing against him, the way they were squeezed caused her bosom to appear even larger, even fuller!

Just like before, his mind began to wonder. So easy he could reach his hand up, and cop a solid feel of his daughter's voluptuous body. Would she even react? Sure, she was conscious... but she was incredibly drained as well. Perhaps she wouldn't even mind due to all the teasing she's done up until now. Hell, she purposefully dropped her towel just earlier, exposing her nude body to him!

No. No. NO! What the fucking fuck was wrong with him!? He was better than that! Get a grip, Russell!

While he was struggling to maintain some level of mental decency, Patricia was groggily walking alongside her father. Her movements were stumbling and inconstant, causing her to fumble every now and then like she had two left feet. And every time she nearly fell, she'd grip her father's arm tight for support. But as they climbed the final rung of the stairs, her foot clipped the last step.

“Ah...?"

“Hnn?"

Still as despondent as ever, Patricia barely reacted when she nearly tripped over. Her father was there to keep her standing, meaning all she did was slightly bend over. And when she bent over, she gazed down upon her father's body.

He was wearing slacks. Rather flattering slacks. Slacks that did a poor job... hiding something. She'd have to be blind to not notice that little tower her father was beginning to sport. It pressed against the underside of his slacks, sporting this thick outline that was impossible to ignore.

At first, Patricia was so sleepy, she failed to comprehend what she was looking at. But then her eyes doubled in size and her cheeks turned red as realization dawned upon her. Bringing up her hand, she covered her face from the nose down in an attempt to hide the blush she was sporting, while her eyes darted left and right.

“P-Piper..." Russell muttered in a somewhat knowing manner, “Is... everything okay...?"

“I...!" she replied as they arrived at her door, “I-I'm fine...! I'm just... s-sleepy...!"

Pulling away from her father, Patricia rushed through the door into her room as quickly as she could, leaving Russell alone. He stood outside her door for several more moments, his mouth agape, before that mounting shame caused him to look down at himself.

He wanted to reach out for her, to explain that what he was experiencing wasn't related to her. But that would be a lie, wouldn't it? And while Patricia may be morose, dry, indifferent, despondent, and whatever other world for 'I don't want to be here' you could think of, she wasn't stupid. She'd see through his lie as much as anyone, which would only make the situation all the more awkward for them.

Dammit. It was like he was trying to make every possible choice he could to ruin their relationship with one another. He was her father, yet he was shamelessly ogling her like some distant pervert. What does that mean of him? What does that mean of their relationship? He couldn't just sit here and ignore her.

That's what led to this problem in the first place: This feeling that the other was a complete stranger. He didn't know her favorite color, her favorite food, her favorite music, her favorite anything. What did she know of him in kind? Hell, what did he know of himself?

He'd been so focused on his work throughout the years...

No. He couldn't risk this chance. He couldn't keep sulking away whenever he found a way to mess things up. Patricia was living with him now. Regardless of what he did or didn't do, they'd be seeing each other everyday for the foreseeable future. He just needed to dispel these thoughts from his head, raise his hand to her door, and--

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Piper...? Piper... I know you didn't go to sleep that fast. Listen, Piper, I just want too--"

Click! Eeearrrrk!

“What? You just want to... what?"

The door to Patricia's room opened, revealing his daughter. Eyes in a sharp glare and lips in a frown, the ebony feline crossed her arms beneath her bosom and leaned against the door frame. That glare of hers was intense, even when it came from eyes that looked so disinterested. It was like she was scanning him, looking for any weakness or flaw in his stance. Russell could feel his breathing hitch again... before he let out a deep breath and leaned in.

“Piper... I just want to talk..." he said, to which she rolled her eyes.

“You just wanna talk, huh?" she asked through her fangs as her leer grew even stronger, “Talk about what? How you're popping boners around your daughter? Is that what you want to talk about?"

“That's not...!" he paused for a moment, then shook his head, “That's not what happened, Piper."

“Oh, it's not? Cuz that's really what it seemed like," she replied as she dropped her eyes, “And I don't believe for a second it's just cuz I hugged you tight. I know you're a guy, but get a fucking grip. I'm your fucking daughter."

“Piper... listen, it was just by--"

“No, it wasn't by accident, don't even fucking lie," she snarled, “Dad...! I'm not blind. Hell, I have better eyes than you; I'm a fucking cat, remember? I've noticed... I've noticed..." her head dropped while her hands tightened into fists, “I've noticed you checking me out like I'm some slut. I'm not an idiot..."

“Piper..."

“I grew up in Oceanside. Shit like that happens all the time. I got used to it..." she looked to the side, “But for you to be the one doing it... tch..." another pause as she let her hands drop, “Guess I was right. When a man and woman are in the same place and they're single... something like this is bound to happen."

“Don't say that, Piper..."

“I said it before... but now I mean it..." she stepped... closer, “We don't feel like father and daughter. Like we're something... different," another step closer, “And I know you feel it too. You've been feeling it ever since I got off that plane."

“N-no, Piper... Patricia.... don't say these things," Russell said back as he shook his head... then looked to the side, “I admit... I have been acting weird around you. I've felt weird about myself. Maybe a few times, I have struggled to see you as my daughter. But that doesn't mean..."

His voice trailed off. Stiffening in place, Patricia's eyes grew sharp, as if scanning his words for any fallacy in them. He could see the disbelief in her gaze; she doubted him. But instead of retreating into her room, maybe even slamming the door behind her, the feline took one final step closer.

The space between them was so small now, he could feel her hot breath flow through the air. His breathing started to pick up in pace, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Patricia reached down. Grabbing a hold of her father's wrists, the ebony feline's ears bent down while her eyes continued glaring at him. Even her tail gained a bend in it, showing how alert she was.

“Pi--" Plap! “Per...?"

Russell's hand...

Fell on her tit.

Russell's eyes grew wide as a wave of shock raced through his body. Patricia's hand was on his wrist, guiding him so that he'd palm her breast.

Her big... soft... pliable... breast.

Stunned in place by what she was doing, Russell stood there as still as a statue, watching as his fingers sank into his daughter's bosom. With the thin tank top she was wearing, there was nothing there stopping his hand from sinking and sinking and sinking. His mouth grew wide and a shudder flowed through him. At first, she was squeezing her hand over top of his... but then her hand dropped, while his fingers continued to clutch upon her.

Oh... so soft... he could squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. But her breasts were like balloons in how big they were. The more he squeezed, the more his fingers got lost in her bosom. So heavy as well. It pushed down upon his palm, feeling like the world's toastiest, softest brick.

Patricia grew stiff, her fangs biting into her bottom lip as she looked to the side. Cheeks turning red, her usually indifferent face grew indignant and abrasive, even showing slight bits of frustration.

Frustration? Ah...

WHAT WAS HE DOING!?

Russell – realizing that he was groping his own daughter – dropped his hand from Patricia's tit and looked to the side. Gazing at his hand as it cupped the air, he could still feel the heft and weight of his daughter's bosom on his palm. His chest heaved up and down, taking heavy breaths of disbelief, while his legs even began to buckle.

“What the hell am I doing? I... I must have drank too much at dinner," he murmured, trying to come up with some excuse for what he'd done.

“Like hell..." Patricia replied, and rightfully so, “You can't just pussy out now! Get over here and grope your daughter's tit!"

“Do you hear yourself?" Russell snapped back, “Patricia Gray...!"

“No, I hear myself!" she growled whilst stomping forward and reaching out for him, “And I want you to fucking listen, Dad! Just..." she glared at him, “Stop fucking around already. You don't look at me like I'm your daughter, and I sure as hell don't look at you like you're my dad, so..." she grabbed his wrist again, “Go ahead. Grope me. I don't care."

Once again, she guided her hand to her chest, her eyes sharpening on him while her lips remained in a pout. It was like she was taunting him... testing him. As if to see what he was going to do. Russell himself felt pinned in place by his daughter, who continued glaring at him, waiting for him to do something; anything.

“I'm right here in front of you," Patricia said, her dour tone suddenly sounding like the melodic throngs of a siren, “All open and free. This is your house, and I'm just some stranger in it. So... go ahead... touch me."

Bullets of sweat began pouring down Russell's brow as his face grew intense. Leering at his daughter, he read the despondent face she wore while his mind struggled to understand why she was doing this. What did Patricia gain from goading her own father on like this? And why was he not rightfully dismissing her?

Why was he walking forward? Why was he looming over her? Sure, he wore an indignant and abrasive face as his teeth were gritted and his eyebrows furrowed, but that didn't stop him. Nothing could stop him from placing his hands on her shoulders, and giving them a squeeze.

“And here I thought you were a gentleman," Patricia whispered, “But I guess I was wrong. You really are a pervert.

“Am I?" Russell replied as he began pushing his daughter into her bedroom, “With all that goading you've been doing – dressing so skimpy, asking me about if I've been fucking other women, even how you called yourself an escort – you clearly want this."

“Stop putting words in my mouth," she snarled back, “You're just some creepy old man trying to justify his terrible nature. Hell, you're so horny, you're getting your dick hard around your own fucking daughter," Push! “Ahh?"

Fwump!

Pushed over, Patricia fell into her mattress where she sank into its blankets and looked up. Chest rising up and down as her breathing quickened, her blue eyes locked in on her father as he loomed above her. He looked different from usual. Russell was a very aloof man. The type of man who always appeared professional and serious. Yes, he had his charming side – there's a reason why he was often booked for interviews – but aside from that, he could be just as quiet as his daughter.

But right now, that aloof and indifferent side was gone. Instead, those blue eyes seemed to radiate this intense pressure. Hunger and desire – two feelings he hadn't experienced in a long time – were starting to rush through him. It was so intoxicating, he didn't even care that the person bringing these emotions out of him was his own daughter.

Standing above her, he traced his eyes along her body, staring first at the despondent face she wore... before looking back down towards her chest.

“Go ahead," Patricia whispered, “It's your daughter's body. The body you were so gleefully ogling before like a fucking pervert."

Russell's eyes grew even sharper. And then he pounced!

Crawling atop Patricia's body, he pinned her beneath his bigger form and placed his hand on her hip. Roughly, he stroked his hand along her side, guiding it up and up and up to the underside of her bosom. He didn't hesitate again, grabbing a hold of her tit and squeeezzziinnnggg it so fucking hard. His fingers sank into her bosom, to which Patricia arched her back and tipped her head to the ceiling.

Shit! He was being so fucking aggressive with her! No gentle stroking, no loving words! Like some hungry, horny beast, he gripped and groped her tits, squeezing them into his surprisingly powerful hands.

“Such vulgar breasts," Russell growled through gritted teeth, “You sway these breasts of yours to lure men into your web like some whore, no doubt."

“Ngghh...! Go fuck yourself!" the feline snarled through gritted teeth, “You fucking... shithead!"

Her words were abrasive and coarse, but she was anything but. Patricia's body twitched and pressed back as heat coursed through her form, coaxing her father to grope and squeeze her bosom more. His hands were so fucking strong. Each squeeze caused her tits to spill through the cracks of his fingers with each and every grab.

Around and around and around he rolled her tit, making her toes and fingers curl... and causing her nipples to stiffen. With that thin tank top on, her erect nipples easily poked through the surface, standing against her shirt like little covered towers. It drew up Russell's hand, who brought it to one of her nipples and 'Pinched!' it through her shirt!

“Aahh!? Ggnghh!"

With a parting flick to her nipples, Russell pulled back and looked down upon his daughter's body. She stared back at him, panting as those blue eyes grew hazy with a lust all her own. That morose face of hers... why did it light such a powerful fire within him?

Reaching down, Russell grabbed Patricia's shirt by the hem and began pulling it up. She didn't fight back, instead resting on the mattress as her father revealed her tits to the room around them. So big, so busty, so shapely too. Ebony fur shimmered upon her chest, with her stiff pink nipples jutting towards his face. Up and down her breasts raised as she breathed, bouncing even from her soft movements.

“What's wrong...?" growled Patricia, “Cat got your tongue?"

Such a cheeky feline. She was taunting him even now.

Gritting his teeth, Russell brought over his hands and attacked Patricia's tits once again. Now without a shirt in the way, he had free and complete access to his daughter's bosom, which he quickly began to squeeze and grope. Again and again, his hands kneaded her bosom, clinching upon her tits as her nipples pressed into the palms of his hands, and rolling them around to trigger jolts and bucks within her body.

“Haaah! Nggghh~! Nmmph~! F-fuck...! Ngghh~! Y-you're so fucking…! Bad at this~! Have you ever groped fucking tits before!? Fuck~!"

Such a shapely girl. That feline spine of hers wiggled with erotic movements as her father groped her tits. His taunting squeezes, the way he rolled her bosom around, and how his fingers pinched her nipples, all sent this heat through her body, and eventually caused her to pant from that mouth.

“Fucking... shit! Nngghh~! S-slow down...!"

The more sensual side of her voice was coming out stronger and stronger. Still, it was mixed with her morose tone, which never allowed her voice to get too loud. Just another aspect of her character that made Patricia charming in her own way.

Not that Russell could really focus on much of it.

Bringing his head down, he stuffed his face between his daughter's bosom, groaning against her. She shuddered back and gritted her teeth, before kicking up her leg to lazily drape it on his side. Her father didn't hesitate, opening his mouth to capture one of her nipples between his lips. Hungry and lurid moans left his lips as he dragged his tongue along her sensitive nipple. It was so stiff and so hard, despite only having been groped before.

Huh...

The taste on Patricia's body was without rival. Salty and delicious, it danced on his tongue and in his mouth, coaxing Russell to lick upon her bosom more. Again and again, he lashed at her chest with his relentless tongue, causing the feline to buck and twitch in various directions. She groaned, panted too, then gave a sharp cry when his teeth clenched around her.

“Ghaaha~~!? F-fuck!? Gnnnggh!"

Russell was desperate. Did she know how long it had been since he last experienced the touch of a woman? And being the professional man he was, he didn't even take time to masturbate either. He was a grown man; not a teenager!

Still... all that pent up lust and aggression – one held in for many, many years – was finally being unleashed.

Leaving Patricia's nipples lathered in spit, Russell straightened up on the bed. He still wore that aggressive and lustful look on his face while he looked down upon her, and his hands traveled up to his chest. One by one by one he undid the buttons of his shirt, allowing it to open, and causing Patricia to straighten up.

“I... holy... fucking... ngghh..."

For a man who spends almost all day alone in his estate, Russell was fit. Again, blame it on the necessity to have semi-frequent book signings and interviews. He had an image to keep.

Now the image of his burly body was revealed to his daughter as he pulled open his shirt, revealing his chiseled frame. Those muscles, his pecs, the abs on his stomach; it all caused Patricia to shudder briefly in place.

“Is that supposed to be impressive?" she snarled.

Russell merely tilted his head.

Dropping his hands down towards Patricia's waist, he placed them upon the dolphin shorts she was wearing. The feline's fur stood on end, while her father slowly began dragging the skimpy garment down her hips. Inch by inch he removed them, revealing the fact she wasn't wearing panties.

Which meant...

“Haaah...!"

Pulling off Patricia's shorts, Russell tossed them aside as he revealed her moist mound. So slick and shimmering. It was nestled between her radiant ebony fur and glistened this bright pink color, with this hard, throbbing clit standing stiff on its own. Her honey – clear and bright – oozed from those plump mounds, while she crossed her legs to cover herself.

But Russell grabbed her knees, and pulled her legs apart.

Blush adorning her cheeks, the cracks in Patricia's usually guarded face began to show. She was pouting, yes, attempting to be abrasive... but the signs in her body were as blunt as a bat to the face. Who could ignore her glistening pussy, or the erotic odor that flowed from it? It attracted Russell, drawing him in closer and closer.

Clenching her teeth, Patricia pulled up her legs a smidgen, while her father kept them open to give himself space to sit between. His nose started to hover above her pussy, taking heavy whiff after whiff of her erotic odor. The cat could feel each of his whiffs, all of which caused her to pant and breathe.

“Gross~" she groaned out amid fidgets, “You're so fucking gross~! What kinda fucking father smells his daughter's fucking pussy!?"

Her abrasive words did nothing to stop or even slow him. Instead, Russell placed his hands on Patricia's thighs, squeezing them as he kept her legs open. Completely entranced by the sweltering pussy in front of him, he opened his mouth, and--

“Mmph!"

“Haaah~! You fucking...! Ngghh~! Creep!"

The taste of a woman's body. It had been so long since he last enjoyed such a flavor.

Russell's mouth perfectly wrapped around Patricia's cunt, capturing it completely. His tongue was strong and broad, and he dragged it along her folds. Each push and stroke caused her juices to bubble out around his powerful pink muscles, and coaxed grunting moans from the feline's body. Her taste was tangy and savory; a delicious and lewd concoction that drove him to lick her more and more.

His slithering tongue and kissing lips, triggered roaring jolts of pleasure throughout Patricia's body. Try, try with all her might to keep her voice in, it just wasn't working. Her chest heaved up and down, while these deep desperate breaths left her lips. Clinching upon her shirt, she tried to relieve some tension, but another--

Shluck!

“GAH!?"

Of her father's tongue nearly caused her to double over and fall back.

“You fucker~! Nngghh~!"

Lewd licks and lewder suckles echoed between Patricia's legs, while she closed her eyes and tipped her head up to the ceiling. Drool oozed out her lips and down her cheek, while bolts of pleasure raced up to her brain. The way his lips smacked against her, caused her thick and stringy pussy juices to stretch through the air, all while her body shuddered.

“Fucking... SHIT! Nngghh ~~~! Why are you...! Haaahh~~!"

Covering her face with her arm, Patricia panted to the air as she felt her orgasm build. Russell however pulled away, leaving the feline's cunt slathered with spit and pussy juices. Rising up, he placed his hand upon her hip and thigh, stroking her while his eyes locked in on that heated pussy.

“You're so wet already," Russell remarked, “You have... such a pathetic pussy..."

“Tch! What the fuck did you say to me?" Patricia snarled back, before...

Press!

“Hrgk~!?"

Taking his fingers, Russell pressed them against Patricia's pussy, causing her to jolt upright. His devious digits didn't hesitate as they began to dance along her folds, spreading her pussy apart. Mouth agape, the feline watched as her father exposed her cunt to the air around them. How pink it was. How it oozed with stringy strands of her feminine juices. The heat and odor that flowed from it. There was not one aspect of Patricia's body that was hidden.

Drawing back his middle finger, Russell began pressing it up against his daughter's slick entrance. The tip of it wiggled left and right, making Patricia pant quicker and quicker. She opened her mouth to say a word, but--

Sliiiidddeeee!

“Nngghh~! F-fuck~! Nggh!"

His finger started sliding inside of her, penetrating Patricia's pussy, which quickly clamped down around the invasive digit. Such a slick and tight cunt. Russell's every touch triggered a reaction from it, whether it be a sharp cry, or her pussy merely tightening further. His daughter tried to hold her voice in, even gritted her teeth in an abrasive manner. But it seemed like nothing she did could stop her father's onslaught.

With every push, her cunt grew wider and wider, allowing him to push his finger in at a quicker pace. Again and again and again, lewd 'Shlucks!' echoed from Russell's fingers as he scraped his finger along her tight cunt. Gripping the blankets beside her head, Patricia laid flat on her bed as her mouth could no longer contain the moans she tried to hide. They filled the air, these 'Ahs~!' mixed with 'Yesses~!' that all grew louder and louder.

“Gah! Fuck! Nnggh~~! You're so fucking... r-relentless~! Nyaaahhnn~!"

And how...

With Patricia's pussy looser now than before, Russell worked his ring finger into her cunt as well. The both of them began swiveling and swirling about within her cunt, thrusting at a pace so quick that her juices began splattering and splashing about. Taken aback, the feline's eyes doubled in size and she gasped, while her father's knuckles began bouncing at the entrance to her cunt.

“N-no~!" she cried, “S-slow the f-fuck down you – Nyaaah~! – You...! Ngngh! Fucking...! Perverted old geez-EERRRR ~~~! AAHHAAH~~~!"

Squuuiirrrrrrttt!!!

Like a geyser of roaring lust, Patricia's pussy let out a torrent of feminine jizz that launched in the air. Russell sat there, watching his daughter scream out with orgasmic pleasure as she released her flow all over his finger and arm. His own breathing locking up, Russell watched as the feline creamed all over his arm, letting it glow in the light of her bedroom.

Patricia's odor was strongest now, while her eyes were glazed over with recoiling lust. Marveling at his daughter in post-orgasmic bliss, Russell wiggled his fingers one last time within her snatch, before slooowwwlllly pulling his digits out with a loud and lewd--

Shwap!

“Ah!?"

Fingers drawn from her cunt, he left Patricia gasping and moaning on the bed. She was still covering her eyes in some vain attempt to hide her embarrassment, as if ashamed to have endured such a mighty orgasm from her father of all people. Russell meanwhile gazed upon his glistening fingers... before plugging them into his mouth.

“Mmmff..."

The taste of her orgasm was so strong. Much like when he ate out her pussy, this intense and savory flavor danced on his tongue and mouth. Again and again he licked his fingers, being sure to clean them completely of his daughter's release. His eyes then gazed forward, watching as Patricia pulled away her arm to look up at him with that despondent face of hers.

“Are you proud of yourself?" she asked.

Verbally, Russell said not a word. Physically, he answered Patricia's question.

Reaching down, he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. Face growing pensive, the feline watched as her father slowly worked off his slacks, all while sporting that large, long, thick, throbbing, member. She saw him pitch a tent earlier, so she thought she was prepared for what she was about to see.

She wasn't...

FWIP!

“Hnngh!?"

His slacks pulled down, Russell's cock bounced to attention before Patricia's eyes. It wasn't just long, it wasn't just thick, it wasn't just veiny either, it was all of these things. A big dick, it throbbed and stood tall all on its own, with a set of heavy balls hanging between his legs for good measure.

Standing tall and proud on its own, it throbbed before Patricia's face, who grew indignant in the face of it. Still, she remained in place as he moved forward, eventually pressing the head of his cock against her cheek.

Sniff snniff... Holy shit. Why did it smell so... thick?

Patricia's nose – so small and black – began to take heavy whiffs of her father's randy, male musk. It flowed straight into her nostrils, making them flare while her body throbbed and her pussy ached with desire. Biting into her bottom lip, the lustful feline stifled a moan as best she could while his cock continued to rub and grind against his face.

He showered before they left, so why did his body smell like this? This wasn't just the odor of her father, this was the odor of a male. A powerful, virile, aroused male. Shit. It made Patricia's pussy throb with need!

Precum had oozed from the tip of his member, which was now dragging along her face. When the slit of his member traced along her nose, his precum was forced into her nostrils, which coaxed a throaty groan from her lips. Blue eyes looking up, Patricia gazed at her father in a demure manner, while he stared back down with a more pensive gaze.

Pursing her lips, the feline began planting kisses to the side of Russell's throbbing dick. Again and again, she peppered her father's member with the desire and worship it deserved, with her feline tongue extending out every now and then to lick along his cock's shaft. His veins were traced by her devious tongue, which raced from the hilt, up the shaft, and to his glands. She was treating his cock like a popsicle, for no area would be spared from her lavish attention.

Fuck. Why did he have such a delicious taste? The flavor was as intense as his odor, and like how his odor dominated her nose, his taste overwhelmed her mouth. Patricia sat there before her father, pushing out her ass on her bed while her lips kissed his cock, and her tongue licked it. But for as slutty as she appeared in her haze of lust and desire, her face was anything but.

She pouted at Russell, glared at Russell, appeared as indignant and bratty as she possibly could, even while she was lavishing his dick in relentless attention. Bringing up her hand, she placed it upon his balls, but didn't squeeze it to give him pain. Instead she fondled his sack, wrapping her fingers around her father's scrotum, which caused more blood to pump and flow to his already massive dick.

The more she teased him, the more she edged him on, the hungrier Russell became. He grew so hungry that he reached up and placed his hand atop Patricia's head. Her ears twitched, her tail grew rigid, and her eyes doubled in size... before they slid back down into a devious glare. She knew what he wanted; he didn't need to ask.

Opening her mouth, Patricia continued leering at her father in an abrasive manner as her tongue hung from her jaw. Once, twice, thrice he breathed hot air upon his cock, taunting him further with her hungry, drooling mouth. Then she pursed her lips, where she placed a kiss upon his dome... before pushing her mouth down around him.

Her teeth, her tongue, her gums; it all accepted her father's generous girth as it spread upon her jaw. Fuck, it was so damn big, and so damn heavy! It pushed down upon the floor of her mouth and tongue, forcing her to clamp her mouth shut around him. Lips forming a tight 'O', Patricia pushed Russell's dick deeper into her mouth.

Deeper... deeper... more... more...

“Glk!"

Fuck, it was big! She didn't mean to flinch like that! It wasn't even in her throat yet! She'd only pushed down about, what, halfway? Maybe just over two-thirds? Regardless of its sides, Patricia didn't stop pushing down, nor did she grow lazy. Her tongue licked and lapped at Russell's cock, while messy strands of spit and precum began to ooze from her lips and along his member.

Placing one hand on her father's thigh, Patricia's other hand slipped down between her legs, and her head began to bob back and forth. Up and down along his dick, she dragged her lips and licked his cock, moaning around him as she did so. Still she wore a bratty and indifferent expression, while Russell placed his hands on his hips.

“Nmm~ Hmph~ Mph~ Hnph~ Nm~!"

The sound of Patricia's fellatio went at the same pace as her head moving up and down, while more spit messily bubbled from her lips. For as abrasive as she was being, her mind could not deny how unbelievable his taste was. It rushed through her mouth, danced on her tongue, and caused her to increase the speed of her blowjob.

“How does it taste?" Russell suddenly asked, causing Patricia to growl at him before pulling off his cock with a loud--

POP!

“Fucking disgusting," she said as her hand began to jerk him off, “It's nasty. And stinky. It makes me wanna fucking vomit," she tilted her head, “No wonder you're so lonely. What woman wants to get fucked by this thing?" Push! “NMPH~!?"

With a push, Russell forced his cock back into Patricia's mouth, causing her eyes to swell. His cock delved deep as well, pushing deeper than she herself pushed. Eyes growing cross, tears began bubbling from them as the feline was forced to accommodate her father's girth; all the way down to the hilt!

A deep groan left Russell's lips. He wasn't just in Patricia's mouth; he was in his daughter's throat! She clenched around him tight, squeezing and stroking his member off. Every action – no matter how light – was just as pleasurable as the last.

But he wasn't pleased with this. Pulling back his hips and keeping his hand on her head, Russell held Patricia in place before--

THWAP!

“GLUNK! NMPH~!?"

Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Her father was fucking her throat!

Again and again and again, Russell thrusted his hips, sending his cock in and out of her mouth and throat with penetration after penetration! At first she was tight as she held against him. But with each successive thrust, her defenses were broken down more and more. Before she knew it, it was just one easy path of pleasure for him as there was nothing to slow down his thrusting cock.

Every time she was brought down on his cock, her nose would get buried in his pubic hair, giving her more of his raw odor. Twitches and rumbles jerked through Patricia's body, making her legs clamp down around his hand as he began to stroke his fingers along her pussy.

What the hell!? Was she really fingering herself while Russell fucked her mouth? Well... yeah. While Patricia couldn't believe it, nothing could stop her fingers from curling inward and penetrating her cunt. Back and forth with lewd 'Shlucks!' and 'Shlurps!' her pistoning fingers would scrape through her pussy, sending pleasure roaring throughout her body.

“Hmmmrrrmmphh~~~!"

“I see..." Russell groaned, “Even though you have that bratty, bitchy behavior, you're just some masochist. You like it when I get aggressive with you."

“Hrrrrgggh!!!"

Even with her mouth (and throat) full of dick, Patricia still shot her father an annoyed glare from his words. She could easily bite down around his dick for that comment... but she didn't. She just kept sucking. Sucking harder. Sucking lighter. But sucking nonetheless.

Fuck, her fingers were really working her cunt over. With each passing second, her mind began to ebb and flow further, while her digits increased with speed. She knew how to finger herself, knew all of her favorite spots. But in this frantic desperate to cum, she lacked all of that skill. It was wild and frenetic, and after one thrust too many...

“HRRRRNNGGKHH~~~!"

SQUIIIRRRRTTT!!!

Patricia's pussy unleashed another torrent of feminine jizz, squirting between her legs and flooding her thighs, which quickly soaked into her mattress as it spread out from her cunt. Her orgasm was so great, so damn strong, that the feline locked up completely, and sat there on his cock... before sloooowwwwlllllyyyy pulling back...

Shl-POP!

Whump!

“Koff! Koff koff! Ugghh... Koff!"

Falling off of her father's dick, Patricia laid on her bed, coughing and breathing for air after having endured her second climax. Russell meanwhile, continued to loom atop her as he gazed down upon his daughter's body.

She was open. Vulnerable. Ready and willing to be taken. And with how hard his cock was throbbing right now, he was more than ready to take her as well.

Crouching down near her, Russell placed his hands on Patricia's thigh, pushing and spreading her legs further apart. Even while she was recovering from her throatgasm, the feline had enough wherewithal to cover her eyes and take in a deep breath, while her father began pressing the head of his dick against her folds.

“Are you... sure about this...?" Patricia suddenly whispered, causing him to stop.

Dropping her arm from her face, the feline put that abrasive visage back on her face as she glared at her father.

“You know, you could still go back," she continued, “We can stop now."

Go back? Stop now? Did he hear those words leave her lips? What? Was she fucking crazy? Or was she belittling her father again? Just thinking about it made Russell grit his teeth in frustration.

“You... fucking... SLUT!"

PAT!

“NYAAAAHHHAAAA~~~!?"

One thrust! Just one thrust, and Russell slammed his dick down balls-deep into Patricia's pussy! There was no build up, no slow penetration that let her feel every inch of his steely cock. No. One moment she was empty, the next moment, she was filled to the brim with meat!

Russell's cock reached deep into his daughter's cunt, with his cock's head kissing against her womb. Arching her back off the bed, Patricia gave a howling moan as her eyes doubled in size. And in them, all she saw were stars! They were bright, they bounced about, and they absolutely dominated the feline's mind.

But Russell didn't stop there. With one hand clenching upon her thigh, his other hand reached up to grab a hold of her tit. With a tight, powerful squeeze, he groped Patricia's breast, while he drew back with his hips and--

PAT! PAT! PAT! PAT! PAT!

Russell saw himself as a tender lover. A man who was as dedicated to his lover's enjoyment as he was his own readers. At least, he was that way with Patricia's mother, Carol. But that's not what he was now. Right now, he was this hungry, horny beast. A randy male looking only to devour... and to breed.

“Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" Patricia roared as she threw her head back, “YOU FUCKING...! NGGHYAAAH ~~! YOU FUCKING PERVERT~~! AHAAAHAA~!! YOU'RE FUCKING TERRIBLE!!! NYAAHAHGHAA~~!"

Again and again and again, he slammed his dick into her cunt, triggering jolts which raced through her body. The ridges of her folds were all merciless pressed against by his burly cock, and his constant pounding slammed her deeper and deeper into the bed.

Fuck! Why was he so damn strong!? His every thrust made it harder and harder for Patricia to think! She was trying – dammit was she trying – to be abrasive against his onslaught... but she was failing completely!

Teeth gritted, spit froth from her lips as she placed her arm over her head to cover her face. Was she embarrassed? Her father already made her cum twice; what was even the point of hiding this side of her anyway?

Still, Patricia acted as defiant as she possibly could, trying so hard to deny him some modicum of pleasure. It was working, as Russell gritted his teeth. Even as his hips pounded into his daughter's bitchy pussy, he still reached up and grabbed her arm, where he pulled it from her face.

“HRRRGGH~~~!"

Teeth gritted and blue eyes angry, Patricia glared at her father in her last attempt to deny him. Fine. She wanted to keep acting bratty cat? Then he was going to show her who's fucking boss!

Russell stopped his thrusting, causing his cock to bottom out at her cunt. Gasping, Patricia looked down towards his throbbing member. It was swollen, his balls so heavy, and... wait... he hadn't cum yet? How!? He should've came, like, at least three times by now! And... wait... what was he doing with his hands?

Still glaring at Patricia's face, Russell slowly dragged his hands down towards her hips and legs... and grabbed her. A gasp left his daughter's lips and she looked down, while Russell tensed his muscles. Showing off his strength, he lifted Patricia into the air, causing her to wrap her legs around his waist in desperation.

But that wasn't good enough, not for Russell. Still flaunting his surprising power, he grabbed Patricia by her thighs, forcing them up until her knees were bent over his elbows. The feline's eyes swelled again and she wrapped her arms around her father's neck, holding him close for fear that she may drop.

“How did...?" she whispered... before swallowing her spit and looking forward.

For a moment, all of life seemed to just... stop. Patricia's blue eyes were locked on Russell's blue eyes, with he too gazing towards her. Their noses pressed against another, the two breathed in the same hot air... before a cocky grin adorned the feline's lips.

“What? Finished already?" she asked.

Russell cocked his head.

THRUST!

“NYAAAAHHAA~~!?"

He didn't need to aim or anything. Even while lifting her in the air, Russell had his cock perfectly lined up with Patricia's pussy. All he needed to do was thrust. So he thrusted. And his cock rushed straight to her core.

Eyes wide, the feline howled with pleasure as her pussy once again parted around her father's throbbing dick. His hips were a blur, slamming his cock in and out of her cunt with so much force, that her body bounced up and down. From her clapping ass to her heaving tits, Patricia's body wobbled up and down so sensually. Hell, the force of his thrusts were so great, her breasts were slamming up against their chins!

“THERE! HOW DO YOU LIKE THIS!?" Russell shouted, to which Patricia clinched her teeth.

“I FUCKING HATE IT!" she shouted back... even though her pussy was absolutely sucking on his cock, “YOU FUCKING SUCK! HAAAH~! I FUCKING HATE YOU! NNGGHH~! GO TO FUCKING HELL! NYAAAHHAAH~~!"

Patricia couldn't take it anymore. Dammit, she lost this stupid fucking game! All of that taunting and teasing all built up to this! Her father was this frenetic beast, and he was fucking her like one! There was nothing left to do but wrap her arms around his neck, squeeze him in close, press their noses together, and say--

“I – HAH~! – I wanna – NYAAH~! – I wanna see your face when you cuuummm!"

She'd probably forget ever saying such a thing when this was all said and done. But at that moment, Russell was poised to give it to her!

His cock was as hard as steel, his body a machine, all to drive his cock in and out of her with the same fury as an engine's piston! His balls meanwhile were starting to churn, rushing with all of that unbridled lust and desire! This wasn't just some regular orgasm, no. This was a climax that had been years in the making! And it was going to go right inside of her!

THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THWAP!

“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!"

THWAPTHWAPTHWAPTHWAPTHWAPTHWAPTHWAP!!!

“FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!!"

THWAP!

“GHAAAHHAAHH!?"

SPLORT! SPLORT! GLORP!

“Ah~!?"

She asked for it, and she got it. Deep inside of Patricia's pussy – deep inside of her womb – Russell tanked the entire contents of his balls inside of her. Incestuous jizz roared through every inch of her cunt, coating her from the uterus to the entrance. He tanked so much seed inside of her, that it spurted around his cock, launching strands of spunk in all directions. His thighs and balls were stained with seed, while Patricia's pink pussy was painted completely white.

But that wasn't all...

“EEEEEKEKKEEEE~~!?"

SPLITTER... SPLATTER!

Patricia's own orgasm flowed around her father's dick, mixing with his cum. Both fell down to stain her bed and soak into her blankets. The entire room was this randy odor of sweat and cum, all of which mixed together to create this intoxicating concoction of pure sex.

Russell's body slowly relaxed itself while the last bits of his orgasm were weaned from his throbbing cock. Patricia was left panting, though her arms still hugged him close to keep herself up. Together, the two felt the rush of sex start to subside... and their minds return to reality.

Slowly, Russell pulled back with his hips, drawing his cock from his daughter's cunt with a loud and lewd--

Schlop!

Bits of seed fell down between them, while he slowly placed his daughter down on the bed. Then he pulled back, standing tall before her as if to... marvel at his handiwork. Patricia's body was layered in sweat, with twitches flowing through her, and her legs spread to expose her cum-soaked mound. Her blue eyes too were glossed over with post-orgasmic bliss... before slowly sliding down to look at her father.

“You..." she whispered, “Hngg... you're the fucking worse..."

…

“Mmph... Chu~ Mmm... Chu~ Mmph..."

“Mmm... Nmmmf... Mmmff..."

So... this is what it tastes like to kiss someone who smoke's frequently. It was bitter... the taste of tar was thick too. Quite frankly, it tasted fucking horrible. so... why did he like it so much? Was it because of who he was kissing?

Yeah. That's it. That's why. It's not the kiss itself, it was who he was kissing.

The golden light of the morning sun pierced through the windows, illuminating a most sordid and taboo sight. The image of a father and his daughter, their bodies naked as they embraced each other in a lustful and erotic manner. Her back was to his broad chest, reclining against him. His arms reached under her arms so that he could squeeze her close. One hand rested on her hip, while his other hand groped at her tit. Her head meanwhile was tipped towards his so that they could kiss one another.

Again... and again... and again...

Lewd 'Smacks!' and lewder 'Chus~' echoed from their lips, while their tongues writhed against one another, vying for dominance in a sordid dance. All of it mixed with the subtle 'Pats!' that echoed below, as he drove his long, hard cock in and out of her pussy.

Again... and again... and again...

“Chu~! Nnnggh~ fuck... what are you...? Some sort of feral monkey...?" Patricia quipped as her blue eyes stared into her father's, “You just don't stop, do you, Dad...?"

“Nggh... I'm... cumming..." Russell replied, to which she grunted.

“Don't even bother saying it. Just go ahead and do--" Splort! Spurt! “Iiittt! Nngghh!"

Closing her eyes and flinching, the feline threw her head back as her father once again came inside of her greedy snatch. She could feel his seed being planted in her womb with one thick blast of cum after another thick blast of cum.

How many orgasms had the two brought each other to throughout the night? Neither side could really tell. Patricia had long since stopped giving a shit, instead focused on enjoying the pleasure for as long as she could. And when her father stopped cumming inside of her and pulled his dick out with a loud--

Shlop!

“Aah... mmph...! Fuck..." she moaned, “I need a smoke."

Still held in her father's arms, Patricia reached out for her nightstand nearby. On it was a carton of cigarettes, which she was quick to grab, pull one out, and ignite. And after placing that cigarette to her lips...

“Fuuuuuuuh... haaaaahh..."

“Really? You're smoking now?" said Russell, to which Patricia rolled her eyes.

“Oh fuck off with that," she replied, “You're the guy who just got done fucking his daughter. You're in no position to talk..."

Placing her lips to her cigarette again, Patricia took a heavy puff of it while Russell rolled over onto his back. All throughout the night, he was wrapped up in the pleasures of his daughter's body. There were times where he paused to think about what they were doing, and whether or not they were sane for doing so... but those thoughts never bothered him for too long.

But now? Now he had nothing but time to think.

Laying there, he closed his eyes and palmed his head, questioning where his sanity went. Despite all of Patricia's words about strangers, and how they really didn't know each other, she was still his daughter. And yet – despite that – he still still had sex with her.

Again, and again, and agaaaiiinn...

Groaning in defeat, Russell felt the shame of the situation rise through him. But before he could fall too deep into despair, a hand reached over and fell on his chest. Shortly after, Patricia as a whole laid against his body, resting upon him as she continued smoking her cigarette.

“We shouldn't have done that..." Russell whispered, to which his daughter let loose a puff of smog.

“Too late to think about that now," the feline said nonchalantly, “What's done is done... fuuuuuuuh... haaaaaah..."

Dropping his hand from his face, Russell gazed down upon Patricia, who stared back at him. She still looked indifferent, still looked bored... but there was a warmth in those blue eyes. And after reaching up to place her hand on her father's cheek, that feline pout of hers changed into a toothy grin.

“It was kinda hot though," she remarked as she crawled atop him, pressing her hefty breasts upon his broad chest, “Heh heh... dontcha agree, Daddy?"

“Nngh... I... haah... don't call me that..." he mumbled.

“Whaaaaaaat? Don't like to be called 'Daddy?'" she said with a chuckle, “That's what all the little sugar babies call their sugar daddies, right? Heh heh!"

“Ugh... doesn't this all seem... insane to you?" asked Russell as he gave Patricia glare.

She opened her mouth to speak, only to pause. Bringing her cigarette over instead, she took a heavy puff of it, and then blew all of those noxious fumes into the air above him. Russell's nose twitched, smelling the tobacco... and the hint of strawberry that was mixed with it.

“Yeah. It's totally insane," she replied, “But... I dunno... if I had to choose between being away from you as your daughter, or being close to you as your lover. Hmm... Fuuuuuhh... haaaaahh..." she smiled at him, then pursed her lips, “I'd rather be your lover, Dad... Nmmph..."

Her lips pressed against his, trading that flavor of tobacco once again. And like before, he kissed back, despite his apprehensions. For several moments they kissed one another, before Patricia parted their lips to look down upon him. And after taking one more puff of her cigarette, she gave him a devious grin.

“Hm... maybe Mom was right about me. I must be some sorta letdown if I'm fucking my dad willingly," Patricia quipped.

“Piper..." Russell muttered back, “You're not a letdown, or a failure, or anything like that. Please, don't say that."

“Really?" she replied with a raised eyebrow, “I'm not a failure or letdown? Are you sure about that?"

“I'm positive about that..."

“Hm... even if I end up pregnant? Knocked up with my own father's child?"

“I...! Uh...!"

“Even that won't make me a failure...?"

“Haaah..."

Russell paused for a moment, his eyes closing as he thought about her words. Everything that happened only helped to prove just how distant they had become. Fathers and daughters don't do things like this, at least, not sane ones. But all throughout the night, the taboo thrill and sordid desire drove both of them to do things with one another they'd never think about otherwise.

Even now, as he sat here pondering their weird situation, he wasn't as disgusted by the idea as he once was. Maybe it was because – deep down inside – Patricia was right. He knew she was his daughter, he understood that fact... but he did not see her as his daughter.

He saw her as something else. And he was going to see what this 'something else' was.

“Yeah..." he whispered, “Even if you end up pregnant. Even if you end up knocked up with your own father's child... you're not a failure."

Patricia smiled.

“Thanks... Dad..."