Discovering Daddy Ch. 03


“Katie? Wake up.”

Someone shook my shoulder. I wasn’t irritated, not like when Dad had to get me up to go to school sometimes. The need between my legs had been totally quenched and I was finally getting some good sleep. But I didn’t exactly bound out of bed, either. I was all kinds of comfortable snuggled up around Caroline, savoring my worn out muscles and post-sex languor.

“Katie, wake up. You’ve got to see this.” Another shoulder shake.

I blinked my eyes open and was surprised to see that it was Caroline who was shaking me. As I came more awake I saw that she was all dressed and standing next to my bed, and I was actually curled up around fuzzy Mr. Paddington. She must have gotten up, gotten dressed and put my stuffed bear in her place for me to cuddle. I was kind of touched by her thoughtfulness.

“What?” I said, disappointed that she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I sure as hell wouldn’t have objected to some more fooling around. Maybe she’d put them on so that I could have fun taking them off, I thought hopefully.

“Come on, Katie-pie. I found something in Dad’s study you’ve got to see.” I yawned, which seemed to satisfy her that I wasn’t going to fall back asleep. She turned and left the room and I watched her delicious bottom wiggle as she walked away.

“How rude!” I said to Mr. Paddington. He agreed that I deserved a kiss from Callie, or at least a mention of our lusty lovemaking. On top of being a good lover, Mr. Paddington had always been a good listener. I yawned again, stretched and got up to go take a shower.

Fifteen minutes later I had on some clothes and was standing in Dad’s study. I felt kind of guilty being in there. It wasn’t like we were exactly forbidden to be in his book-lined, cigar smelling manly lair or anything, but he definitely felt that there wasn’t any good reason for us to go there and so we seldom did.

Caroline was seated in front of his desk going through an open cigar box in her lap. Dad had smoked the occasional cigar as long as I could remember. And I recognized the box because on the lid I could see the upside down drawing of a charging elephant.

“If you think I’m going to smoke a Thompson Tusker with you just because you’re in the mood to try new stuff, you’re mistaken.”

Callie laughed. “Ewww! I would never. Anyway, I wasn’t as tired as you were, so I didn’t stay asleep for long. I didn’t want to wake you, so I kinda wandered down here and I was looking around and I found this box full of mementos.”

“You just found it?” I said skeptically. “Where?”

Caroline put the box on the desk, stood up and walked over to one of the bookshelves. Some of the books had been hiding a pile of cigar boxes, and she showed me where they were. “See? He had them hidden. I already looked through the boxes, and they were all empty except the one on the bottom.” She pointed at the box on the desk.

“You went through Dad’s stuff? He’ll kill you. What’d you think you were going to find, anyhow?”

“I don’t know.” Caroline blushed. “Maybe an old love letter or something that I could keep in my room and pretend he’d written for me.”

“Caroline, you’re really starting to worry me.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I worry myself. But I am what I am,” she said with a shrug. “I try not to let it bother me. Anyway, see what I got?”

Callie dug in the box and came up with a piece of paper which she handed to me. It was a little pink Valentine’s Day Hallmark card, with a drawing of a piece of cake on it. Inside it said, ‘Yummy!’ under which Mom had signed her name, Penny. But what Caroline had obviously wanted me to see was the handwritten note in Mom’s feminine hand.


I feel like such a cliché, but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. I guess it’s a good thing you’re so persistent! And it’ll always be easy for us to remember the anniversary of my first time – a girl couldn’t have a better Valentine’s Day!

Love you forever,


“Whoa,” I said.

“Yep,” Caroline said. “Their first time was on Valentine’s Day. Isn’t it romantic? And that explains why Dad always makes such a fuss every year. It used to be his way of remembering the anniversary of the first time they did it, and now it’s his way of treasuring his memories of Mom. He’s such a teddy bear!” She took the card back and hugged it to her chest.

I giggled. “Well, I guess they both got lucky. As lucky as we were this morning.”

Caroline slapped my arm. “Stop it,” she said playfully. “Anyway, that’s not all. Look at this.”

Callie dug into the cigar box again and came out wiggling a CD suggestively.

“And what’s on that?”

“I don’t know. I tried to look at it while you were asleep, but when I put it in the computer nothing happened.”

That’s my Caroline. She spent her time working on her backhand and not on her books. I knew that around the school I’d been considered the brainy one, and Callie was known as the jock.

I took the disc from her and aydınlı escort put it in Dad’s computer, which was already up and running.

“You know we’re not supposed to be on here, don’t you?” I said. We each had our own computer, and Dad discouraged us from using his machine.

“Come on,” she said. “We could take the disk up to your room to look at it, but if he comes home we might not have the chance to put it back. If we’re in here we can throw it back in the box and be out of here in a second.”

Apparently I didn’t need to hear her arguments, because I was already looking at the screen showing the contents of the CD.

“See?” I said, pointing at the graph on the screen. “The files aren’t showing, but the disk is almost full. That means the files are hidden.”

“But you know what to do, right?”

“Maybe. If he didn’t get too clever.” I changed the viewing options to ‘show hidden files’ and a folder popped into view, which earned me a high-five.

I opened the folder and inside was a screenful of thumbnails; tiny preview images of the pictures burned on the disk. I selected ‘all’ from the file menu and told the computer to open the pictures as a slideshow, and they began flashing on the screen, each picture lasting for about three seconds.

They were almost all pictures of Mom. Old ones from before Caroline and I were born. Dad had pictures of her around the house, hung on the walls and in pretty frames on the furniture. Even a couple on his desk. But they were all family shots with me and him and Callie. These had all been taken before Caroline and I came along, and I hadn’t seen any of them before.

In most of the pictures she couldn’t have been much more than a teenager, looking innocent and pretty. It was hard to believe that our Mom had once been a flirtatious single girl, but the evidence was right in front of us in glorious Kodacolor. Mom smiling at the camera, leaning against a tree. In her bathing suit on the beach, looking like a schoolgirl. With her hand on Dad’s chest, both of them smiling at the camera and dressed up for a party.

“Gosh,” said Caroline. “She was so pretty. I mean, she was pretty right up until she died, but she was even prettier when she was younger.”

But Caroline wasn’t seeing the same thing I was. “Look,” I said, pointing at a shot of Mom leaning on a fence, wearing a kind of funny blouse with puffy sleeves and looking very 80’s. “Can’t you see? Look at her face. Imagine her with a different haircut. She looks just like you.”

After I said it, Callie saw it too. “But it isn’t just me,” she said, pointing to a shot of Mom and Dad laughing at the camera. “Right there she looks just like you.”

“Well she’s got your eyes in that one,” I said, pointing to another picture.

“And your lips in that one,” Caroline said, pointing to the next one. And it was true. In fact, in every picture, no matter what Mom was doing or how she was dressed, there was some part of her that looked just like either Callie or me. A smile here, a giggle in her eyes there, the way she was holding her can of pop.

All of my memories of her flashed back, and the ache in my heart that never quite went away came rushing to me in full force. It was so damned unfair. I blinked away the tears. “But why did Dad hide them?” I said. “He must have known that we’d like to see them.”

“God, I miss her,” Callie whispered, staring at Mom wearing a business suit and standing next to some guy in an office.

“Me, too. Maybe that’s why he hid them. Because he knew they’d make us sad.”

“Or maybe because we remind him of her, and it’s just too painful.”

“Yeah. That’s probably it.” We kept our thoughts to ourselves as the last pictures went by and the slideshow ended.

“Look, Dad said he’d be home early. We should put this back. We can come down and make a copy for us later. We just won’t tell him.” I ejected the disk and gave it to Callie.

“OK,” she said, putting it back in the Thompson Tusker cigar box and returning it to its hiding place behind the books. “But as long as you’re already on his computer, why not do a little more snooping?”


“What? We already snooped in his cigar box. What’s the difference?”

“I don’t know. It just is. Besides, I don’t know what you’re hoping to find. You already found his hidden box of mementos,” I said. “And he just uses the computer for office stuff and so he can play Zoo Tycoon.

“And so he can get on the internet.”

“Yeah. So?”

“Look. Harrison told me that every guy who has a computer has porn sites that he likes to go to. Maybe we can find out what Dad’s are.”

“What? You’re kidding. Dad wouldn’t do that.”

I looked at her like she was crazy, but a part of me knew she wasn’t crazy at all. The Dad I knew yesterday might not have, but the Dad I knew today sure would. I had watched him with new eyes this morning in the kitchen, and it was no stretch of my imagination bağdat caddesi escort at all to think of him all hard and fooling around in bed with a naked girl. Knowing that he liked naked girls made the whole porn idea possible. And even high school girls with no real sex experience know that the internet is where you go to get pictures of naked girls. I’d just never had reason to think of Dad doing it before.

“Besides,” said Callie. “It might be fun to learn just what kind of stuff turns Dad on. You know – useful.”

I can’t tell you whether I believed I was going to find something or whether I was trying to prove that there would be nothing there. But I looked.

Dad’s machine logged him in automatically, so I didn’t have to try to figure out his password. I checked his favorites, but there was nothing out of place or provocative there. At least, not if you don’t count a link to an Ebay page that was selling a copy of some old movie called Working Girl.

“See?” I said.

“Come on. You’re the computer whiz. Is that all you can do – check his bookmarks?”

“OK, OK, hold your horses.” I pulled his history list, which was surprisingly short. “See? Nothing there.”

“Oh.” Callie sounded disappointed enough that I took pity on her. Since our morning together I’d developed a real desire to make her happy if I could, a feeling that had apparently followed me out of the bedroom. Well, and I was also curious about her idea – what if she was right?

I said, “But since it’s so short, it means that he’s probably cleared it lately. Which kind of makes you wonder why.”

“You think? How do we find it?”

I thought for a minute. Computer hacking had never been something I’d tried.

“Clearing the history list doesn’t erase everything. There’s cookies and temporary internet files and junk like that. I’m not sure how to find all that stuff, but maybe we don’t have to.”

I had her attention all right, and she watched as I opened up the search window.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, if he found a picture of some girl he liked, he’d probably save it on his computer so he could look at her later without going back to the website. So we’re looking for all of the pictures on his hard drive.”

The machine hummed away, merrily searching itself and sharing its findings in little spurts and fits. Icons of what it had found appeared readily enough, but it lagged while trying to turn the icons into visible pictures.

As we scrolled through the pictureless icons I kept my eye on the names, and finally one of them caught my eye.

“Found it,” I said gleefully, clicking on an icon labeled ‘Liascrewstheboss06.’ I felt a delicious thrill of guilt mixed with anticipation as the picture opened.

It was a really pretty blond girl kneeling in front of a man behind a desk, her yellow skirt pulled up to her waist and exposing her bare bottom as she unzipped his pants.

“See!” Caroline clapped her hands together like a giddy schoolgirl. “Are there more?”

I looked at the location of the picture, and congratulated myself on my cunning hacking. “Look here,” I said, pointing at the screen. “It’s in a folder called IRS Returns.”

“Sneaky Daddy,” she said.

I opened the folder, selected all of the thumbnails and told the computer to display them in a new three-second slideshow.

Callie looked over my shoulder, her breath hot in my ear as we watched the parade of pretty girls hidden on our daddy’s computer having sex in ways I’d never even imagined.

There were girls with their legs spread wide, naked men thrusting huge cocks glistening with sex juices into them. Girls giving blowjobs and handjobs, with cum dripping from their glasses and fingers. Girls sitting at desks in front of their computers, their skirts up and their panties down so that they could play with themselves for the camera. Girls licking sperm off their lips, their fingers and each other. Girls in stocking and heels, or wearing nothing but jewelry as they were fucked in every conceivable way.

“Oh, God. I want to try that!” Callie said, her eyes wide at the picture of a pretty blond in a business suit, her legs spread wide as she lowered herself onto the straining cock of the guy in the chair.

“Or that!” she said, as a blond girl in glasses bent over a desk, pulling up her skirt so that the man behind her holding his bare dick could take her standing up.

“Or, that or that or that!” she said, and we both giggled. I had to admit that seeing all of the different ways that a girl could get laid was putting some ideas into my head, too. But there was an insistent thought tickling the back of my mind, if I could only grab it.

“Well, at least we know that he still likes fucking,” Caroline said. “See that?” she said, as a picture of a hard cock splashing gobs of sperm onto a slippery pussy flashed by. “If that girl was me and that guy was Dad, I could like totally die happy.”

“Shhh! bahçelievler escort I’m thinking.”

We watched entranced as the computer showed scores of pictures of naked women, three seconds at a time, while I let my brain track down the elusive tickle. Finally, right after a picture of a girl with a pad and pencil and reading glasses sitting in front of her boss and showing way too much leg I had it.

“Look,” I said, pointing at the screen. “It isn’t what’s here – it’s what’s missing! What is it you don’t see?”

Caroline looked at the screen, at least making the attempt to humor me.

“Brunettes?” she said.

Startled that she actually had an answer, I watched the screen for a minute, and she was right. Every single girl that flashed by was blond.

“Well, yeah,” I said, as if her observation was too obvious to mention. “But that’s not what I meant. Other than brunettes, what’s missing?”

Caroline laughed. “Nothing! There’s more stuff here than I’d ever imagined. Doesn’t it make you all wet?”

“Yes,” I said prissily. “But that’s not the point. I’ll tell you what you don’t see. You don’t see teenagers. You don’t see any blue jeans or swimsuits or lingerie. Nobody’s outside, or even in a car. We haven’t even seen a bed, and isn’t that where most people have sex?”

“I don’t get it.”

I sighed in exasperation. “They’re all office girls. Secretaries. They’re all dressed in stockings and dressy skirts. Jackets. High heels. Look at how many of the pictures take place in an office. And even the ones that aren’t, the girls are dressed up like they’re just home from a day at work.”

The slideshow finished and I sat back in the chair, listening as Caroline came to the same conclusion I had.

“So Daddy’s got a thing for………”

“Secretaries,” I finished.

“Oh, wow!” Callie’s hands flew to her head, and she began to pace in front of the desk.

I giggled. “Well, I don’t know how useful you’ll find it. I mean, you’re not his secretary. And I thought you wanted to major in art history.”

“Katie! Don’t you get it? Don’t you remember? Mom was Dad’s secretary. That’s how they met.”

My smugness vanished. “You’re right.” I guess I’d forgotten. Mom had pretty much retired when I was too young to remember.

Caroline plopped down in the chair, a self-satisfied look on her face.

“What?” I said.

“Don’t you get it? It all fits together.” Callie ticked off her points on her fingers. “Dad keeps his mementos of Mom hidden away. Mom was Dad’s secretary. The first time they did it was on Valentine’s Day. Mom was blond. Dad comes down here to look at his collection of blond secretaries having sex.”

I got a quivery feeling in my tummy while Caroline went on, her voice hushed and surprised.

“He’s still in love with Mom. He’s got a crush on her so bad that he comes down here and relives his memories of their first time by looking at pictures of blond secretaries having sex. I’ll bet they did it all the time at his office before she quit.”

“I guess you’re right,” I said. It all made me kind of sad to think that Dad was still so smitten with Mom that he felt he had to spend his time with digital girls instead of finding himself a real one.

“Think about it,” she said. “He probably sits in that chair right there, looking at his pictures and remembering how much he loves Mom while he masturbates.”

I swallowed hard. And I couldn’t help myself – I lifted my arms and looked down at the seat and the armrests to see if there were any cum stains there. God. I could just imagine Daddy sitting right here, his naked dick hard and long just like those guys in the pictures, stroking himself until he splurted sperm all over the place. Was that what he was doing in here when we thought he was working? I scrunched my legs together as I pictured Daddy’s cock, right exactly where my wet pussy was, naked and straining to be inside a willing girl and instead having to settle for his hand and shooting sperm someplace other than into me. It was like that movie Lake House – we both wanted the same thing in the same place, but not at the same time. My mouth watered.

“He loves blond secretaries. He loves them so much he sits right there and plays with himself. God, Katie! Can you picture it?”

There was no mistaking the excitement in Callie’s voice, or in her posture. She was slouched in the chair, the erect nipples of her perfect breasts unmistakable under her t-shirt. I don’t think she did it consciously but her legs were spread a little bit apart, just enough for me to want to throw them over my shoulders and lick her crotch. I wondered if I’d be able to taste her cum through her jeans.

We both sat there with dazed expressions, smiling giddily at each other while visions of Daddy playing with himself right in that chair turned us on.

Caroline came around me and hugged me from behind.

“Makes you wish he was here now, doesn’t it?” she whispered in my ear.

I whispered, “Yes,” and turned my head for a sweet kiss. Caroline’s hand crept down my tummy, searching between my legs, which I parted for her.

We were both startled when we heard the garage door opening, announcing Dad’s return home. I was glad that I was sitting down, because when Caroline’s lips left mine I was definitely too dizzy to be standing on my own.

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