Tasting Cinnamon

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Tasting Cinnamon
RedHairedandFriendly & Black Bart
Please PM either of us with comments/suggestions. We hope you enjoy this story​

Cinnamon (Cin) Blake
Age: 20
Marital Status: Single
5'6 - Blondish/Brown Hair
Green Eyes

Cinnamon Blake’s mother Rebecca has recently passed away after battling breast cancer. She chose to continue studying culinary in Italy while her father remained at Rebecca’s side. Selfish? Perhaps, but Cinnamon refuses to see it that way. She could not help her mother and watching her become a shell of the woman she was was not something Cinnamon could accept. Her mother was vibrant, beautiful, and loved by Cinnamon’s father very much.

*****

 

[Metaldrummer76]

can i get in on this rp thread?

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Cinnamon stepped off the plane and rolled her shoulders. She knew she looked ridiculous wearing sunglasses, when the day was anything but sunny. Sheets of rain fell from the sky and she cursed the government for not allowing umbrellas as part of their carry on luggage. Tucking her head into her chest, she quickened her steps and eventually made her way into the airport with the other passengers. This was her third flight in twenty-eight hours and she was exhausted both mentally and physically.

Once she shook the rain from her trench coat, Cinnamon looked up and gazed through her glasses at the crowd moving toward the new arrivals. Her face contorted in a mask of annoyance as she tried to locate her father.

“Where is he,” she muttered and then began to walk through the crowd, pushing her way past several individuals until she stopped and stared at the man that seemed to suddenly materialize in front of her.

“Dad?” she whispered and felt her jaw drop. He looked as beat as she felt. She quickened her step and reached his side. Her small frame hugged his larger one.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered and then pulled away. She pulled her sunglasses from her face, pushing them into her bangs. “You look good,” she told him, though he actually looked as if he’d lost his best friend.

She felt the jerk in her stomach as she realized that he had. Again she pushed the thoughts of why she was back in the US away and hooked her Father’s arm. “Come on, let’s get my luggage and then get you home. The funeral is at two, right? You and I have only a few hours before the doors open again for the viewing.”

She didn’t want to feel guilty. She simply wanted to get this ordeal over with and get her ass back to Italy where her reality seemed more like a fairy tale, than the nightmare she refused to accept, until she had been forced to.

In Italy Jack Blake and Rebecca Blake lived. They were two people in a photo that sat on her dresser. They were the couple that held her in their arms when she was born. Jack Blake was the man that taught her how to ride a bike, shoot a pistol, and clean fish. Rebecca was the woman that had showed her the secrets of the kitchen, taught her how to play the piano, and encouraged her to live out her dreams and fantasies. Jack was Dad. Happy. Loving. Accepting. She needed Italy to feel whole again.

 

[BLACK BART]

It was a rare case.

That's what the Doctor's had told them both as they diagnosed Rebecca with cancer and gave her less than a year to live.

Jack could remember his world stopping at that moment, collapsing around him as he looked to the only woman he had ever loved, and felt shame at the fear in her eyes.

Shame because of how brave a front she put up, her tiny square jaw clenching before she spoke the brave words.

"Then we'll just make the best of the time we have left, won't we?"

"Yes, we will"

Jack had promised and squeezed her hand tenderly, his eyes telling her how proud he was of her...and how afraid, as well...

They had made plans.

Jack had took a leave of absence and booked plane tickets to the Islands, calling a friend who gladly offered his beach home to them for as long as they needed, and it seemed they were destined to take that long, put off vacation after all."

But fate had laughed at them both, and on the day they were to board the plane, Jessica was admitted to the ICU with internal bleeding, the result of her organs hemorrhaging before they failed....

For the next four months they lived together in that ward.

Room 303 became their home, Jack sleeping on a cot each night, waiting for her to wake up each morning to greet her with a kiss and the morning paper.

They lived a lie. They both knew it. Time was against them as Rebecca's body failed her even faster than the Doctor's predicted and she slept longer every night. Yet they loved each other, and though time was short, it was all that counted, and almost everything they had ever wanted in the twenty years of marriage.

In the last few weeks Jack read the paper to her, watching her with loving eyes as she laughed weakly at the antics of Garfield and held his hand, her head turned toward the window and the unseen morning sunrises...

Through it all Rebecca had never showed any fear, or pain, though each and every Doctor shook their heads as she refused any and all drugs they offered and spoke of her courage. The only regret she had was their one and only child not coming back to see her, and on the night she passed her last words of her friends and family.

They had talked late into the night, that night, and Rebecca had seemed stronger, color coming back to her pale and shrunken cheeks as she recalled all the happy times they had all shared together.

She had even sat up in bed and demanded a kiss from him, before laying back and closing her eyes for that very.... final.... time.

Jack broke down that night, crying as he watched her smile that old familiar smile in her "sleep", knowing she would never open her eyes or lips to him again, and how badly he missed her already...

****** ****** ******​

And now he was getting ready to say his final goodbye, cheated by fate of the months promised to them by the best of Doctors, his only comfort found in the figure of his daughter as she returned from her home in Italy.

"You're still a terrible liar, Cinn "

Jack forced a smile and lifted her bags, tossing them in the car with one arm while hugging her with the other.

"It's good to see you."

The ride home was silent, Jack trying to think of the right words to say, to give Cinnamon some sort of comfort as Rebecca would in the same situation, and failing as his own grief welled up and threatened to break out of him.

Inside, the rooms were painfully neat and tidy, just as Rebecca had left them, the only proof anyone lived there being a pillow and blanket on the ancient couch Rebecca had hated so but allowed in love for him...

"Shower if you want, and change Cinn, I'll shave after you're done and get dressed before we go see her"

Jack spoke the words in a tone that sounded as dead as he felt inside. He didn’t want to look at Cinnamon at that moment, she was so very much like her mother, and after a year she had filled out and looked just as Rebecca had at that very age.

“Welcome home Cinn…”

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Cinnamon stood under the hot shower water, trying to not only wash away the tension in her muscles from what was to come, but to also rid herself of the exhausted state of her entire being. She wanted to crawl into bed, curl up in a ball and sleep. As she tilted her head back to rinse away the suds of soap that seemed to cling in the curls of her dirty blond hair, she thought of the phone call she’d taken just a few days ago.

Her father’s voice had been full of raw emotion and she knew as soon as he started to speak to her, what the reason was behind his call. She had hung up the phone, made last minute flight plans, called him back, told him when to pick her up and then she’d gone out with friends. That night she was quiet and her Italian buddies and American friends, knew something was wrong, but she refused to tell them, not wanting to lose what little control she had on her emotions. Now back in her parents’ home, she was having an even harder time remaining calm. When the tears began to fall, she spun around and pushed her face into the hot water to force the salty confections away.

After her shower, she quickly ran the blow dryer over her hair and applied a light dusting of powder, then gloss to her lips. Her hair hung in natural waves down her back. Two hair combs were slipped in by her temples, keeping her face open and exposed. She wrapped herself up in a thick towel and stepped from the bathroom.

“Bathroom’s free Dad!” she yelled as she walked down the hall to her old bedroom.

Once there she quickly dropped the thick material that absorbed much of the shower water that had clung to her skin as she prepared her hair and face. She picked through her luggage, settling on a white bra and silk shirt, a pleated black skirt, stockings with matching garters and panties. Her fingers ran over the jewelry she’d hastily packed. Eventually, she chose a pair of pearl earrings and a choker of the same quality. Her shoes, added another two inches to her height and she looked at herself in the mirror when she felt she was ready to put up a good front.

For a minute she was stunned. Her mother seemed to be staring back at her. She felt a lump in her throat and swallowed it. Giving herself a mental shake, she picked up her clutch and quickly headed to the kitchen to pour herself some tea and make her father some coffee.

“I wonder if he’s eating?” she thought as she walked through the house.

A picture of her mother, wearing her wedding gown hung in the hall and she stopped to admire it. Her hand lifted and she traced the shape of the beautiful bride. Again the lump in her throat formed and her jaw tightened as denial threatened to consume her.

 

[BLACK BART]

Jack moved into the vacated bathroom, mechanically going through the motions, shaving and washing without his usual attention to detail, deliberately keeping himself numb in an attempt to escape an otherwise unbearable reality

Only to be forced back into it as he dressed, pulling the black pants and suit jacket on, and finding it impossible to fix the tie hanging around his neck.

"Beck..."

He called out and caught himself, the knowledge that Rebecca would never be there to chide him again as she fixed his tie punching him in the stomach as if it were a real physical blow and nearly doubling him over.

He was tired. And knew the worst was yet to come, but like his wife he had never backed down from any chore no matter how distasteful.

And then his world went upside down, as he stepped into the hall and saw Rebecca standing in front of thier wedding picture, her hand carressing it as if it were alive...and so was she.

"B...b....beck.....eee?"

He moaned, his brain and heart over loading as his desire for the vision to be true tried to wipe out the knowledge he was dreaming...again.

"Dad?"

"My God Cinn, I'm sorry, I thought I was dreaming and that...."

"It's ok Dad, here....Let me?"

Reality came rushing back in and Jack felt the world spin, then steadied himself as his daughter lifted her hands to his neck and delicately arranged his tie.

"Are you ready, Dad?"

Every fiber in his body cried out that he wasn't. That he wanted to die and crawl into the earth beside his wife, and yet Jack reminded himself that there were other people suffering too, and one was right in front of him.

He let out his breath and slid an arm around her trim waist, forcing a brave smile onto his face.

And lied...

"Yes"

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Cinnamon took a deep breath locking in the scent of her father. She was surprised by how much she missed the aroma of his aftershave. The men she dated in Italy wore cologne, it was overpowering at times yet it always made her think of her father. Sometimes she thought that odd, a scent reminding her of her Dad, but she always shrugged and chalked it up to being homesick. It wasn’t though; she knew this now. This scent was like a blanket of strength; it was her father and she had done a disservice to him by being away for so long. As she patted his tie down, she told herself she’d extend her stay in the US, at least for another week.

Taking a deep breath she took her father’s hand in hers and together they moved to the door, where she pulled his coat from the closet and handed it to him. Once he was ready, he helped her into her long, black wool coat and she slipped the buttons into their homes.

The drive to the funeral home was somber and she knew the next few hours would be full of heartache and tears as well as hugs and handshakes from those she barely knew, but knew her parents very well. Relatives seemed to flock to things like this, just like weddings and she hated the fact that these people never came to visit her mother when she was ill. That thought brought her up short as she realized she was one of those people. “Oh God,” she had whispered and clenched her father’s hand tighter than before.

Sometime during the service she had leaned against her father’s shoulder and for the first time she stared long and hard at the woman that had given her birth. Her chest felt suddenly tight and her face seemed to lose all its coloring. She snuggled deeper into the father, holding his fingers in a tight clenched embrace. She took another breath, once more feeling the strength of her Dad roll over her. Tear fell and then a quiet racking sob erupted from her. During all this time she was held in her Daddy’s arms. His fingers stroking her shoulder as his head leaned on hers.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in his ear, hoping he knew she was apologizing for so many things.

Music played and the casket was carried out of the funeral home and placed in an expensive black hearse. The funeral home director had provided a driver for her and her father, so she sat with him in the back seat of Jack’s car. Her fingers never left his and her head remained on his shoulder, this time though she used her other hand to trace the pattern of his fingers interlaced with her own. When was the last time she’d held his hand?

“I should have been there, Dad. I should have come home. I could have helped you. . . I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she whispered and then felt the hot tear return as she curled herself back into him and the car gently rolled to the cemetery.

 

[BLACK BART]

“I should have been there, Dad. I should have come home. I could have helped you. . . I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,”

"Becky would have liked that Cinn, but she understood, she explained a lot of things to me the last night, her last words were for me to take care of you."

Jack choked back the tears he felt welling in his own eyes as Cinn pressed her face to his shirt and he felt her own soak through it.

"She taught me fate plays out a cruel hand at times, but we survive it by loving the ones closest to us, and never forgetting how much they mean to us."

The wind blew as they watched the casket disappear, and Jack felt Cinnamon collapsing against him, his arms going around her and lifting her to his chest before she fell.

*How much she looked like her mother*

He marveled as he carried her back to the car

*Her face, her eyes, the way her hair drifted over her eyes, even the swell of her breasts and how her nipples pushed out against the fabric over them. *

Inside the car he chastised himself, the guilt welling up in him as he held Cinnamon, and yet he couldn't keep his eyes off the bare skin of her shoulder where dress had slid off, or the swell of the full breast and the hint of her aureole.

"Cinn? Let me fix this?"

He spoke gently and moved a hand to tug the straps in place, and Cinnamon shifted at the same moment, lifting herself up and forward...

"I'm sorry, what did you say Dad?"

Her eyes opened slowly and Jack felt himself drowning in them, as well as the warmth of her bare breast under his hand.

"Your dress, it slid off..."

He gulped and slid the material into place, his hand tingling where he had accidentally caressed her breast and nipple.

"We've got to collect ourselves, the others are waiting at the house for us, and even though I told them it would only be allowed for an hour...."

He sighed at the thought of facing so many well wishers at once, and as Cinn slid off his lap he covered his embarrassment with his arm, finding he had an erection.

"I'll be with you Cinn, all we need do is smile and listen to our guests, and then I can tuck you into bed like the old days?"

*Old days, those days were gone forever, Jack knew. With his wife buried and his daughter all grown up...and out...he was facing a bleak time of loneliness and heartbreak...*

And then they were there, the door opening before they fully stopped, and Jack slid out of the car to hear a dozen gentle and concerned voices, the matching eyes and faces showing so much compassion he almost lost it right there on the curb stop.

It became a struggle just to get enough room to help Cinnamon out of the car, her twin, and full proud breasts clearly visible to him as she offered her his hand and she took it, leaning forward to step out of the car and standing.

"OK, Give us some ROOM."

Jack was startled by the sound of his voice, and yet the group did move, and their faces showed only understanding towards the harsh tones of his words.

Inside it was better, the people had congregated in smaller groups, and as Jack found Cinnamon a seat he stood beside the chair and watched the slow procession of men and women begin to move towards them in a carefully choreographed procession.

The words blurred together, each kind and heartfelt, each giving a kiss to Cinnamon and complimenting her on how beautiful she had grown, and a handshake to Jack with the offer "If you need anything..."

Standing beside her it was too obvious how "beautiful" Cinnamon truly was, the satin quality of her flesh painfully evident to his eyes each time he looked down, to see her lean, long neck and the swell of her breasts...

And then, thankfully they were gone, the house empty save for the clutter of used dishes and gifts, the food piled high on the kitchen table with tags oneach to tell who they came from...

"I'll get you to bed, Cin?"

Jack spoke softly and kneeled before his daughter.

"I’ll take care of things down here, and what I don't the Ladies Social will finish tomorrow morning for us...."

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Cinnamon sighed, as the weight of the situation seemed to swim around her. She felt her father’s hands on her knees and she glanced down at him. She knew bed was what they both needed, but she also knew for her to take the easy way out was wrong. She’d taken the easy way out months ago, refusing to see her mother and letting her father take on the responsibility of not only caring for her dying parent, but for caring for the house too.

She reached out and touched his cheek. “Dad, I’ll go to bed when I’m ready. Right now, why don’t I make you some coffee, decaf, so you can get some sleep and I’ll clean up around here. You’ve been alone long enough, it’s time I stepped up to the plate, don’t you think?” she asked and then bent down and kissed his cheek, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close for a few seconds.

His breath caressed her neck and she shifted in her seat, then remembered his touch on her skin in the car earlier. She’d thought nothing of it, but now as she breathed in his cologne she found herself wanting to be buried in his embrace. Inwardly she gave herself a mental scolding and released her father. “Go change into something less formal and when you get back, the kitchen will be to rights and hot coffee will be ready for you in the den.”

She pushed her chair back and watched him stare longingly at her. What was he seeing? She wondered, not thinking of how she resembled her mother, or the fact that the fading sunset cast a glow around her. She rose from her seat and turned away, listening to him rise and shuffle toward the other room. Cinnamon kept her back facing the stove and sink as she made a fresh pot of coffee for her father.

Her thoughts collided over what he’d said about tucking her in. How wonderful that would be, she told herself. If I could just be that little girl who was carried to bed in her father’s arms and all of this would simply melt away. She blinked back the pain and the longing for the past and then set about readying the kitchen. Food was stored in either the fridge or the freezer. Casseroles were pitched if she recognized the ingredients were ones her father didn’t like. Desserts were also pitched for the same reasons.

Eventually she had done exactly what she had wanted and took a tray with her father’s coffee and her tea out to the living room. She pulled off her heels and ran her fingers over her aching feet. The arches on both appendages ached and she began to work out the kinks in both them and her legs. Her hands moved up and down her stocking clad muscles as she fought to knead the tension from their tightened chords. A sigh of pleasure escaped her parted lips. In time she too would change into something less constricting than the formal skirt and silk blouse, for now she simply enjoyed sitting down on the plush leather sofa.

 

[BLACK BART]

"something less formal"

Jack sighed and moved to do just that.

Upstairs he stripped off his suit and without a second though tossed it into the garbage.

Seeing his reflection in the mirror he hardly recognized his own body, the weight he had put on over the years had melted away leaving him lean and hard and yet he knew it was of no meaning, the only woman who would appreciate it now being gone...

He moved into the shower to rinse off, turning the water on as hot as it would go and letting the heat burn through his skin and into his numb body. By the time he was through he felt half-human, and as he pulled clothes on he smelled the mouth watering scent of coffee as Cinnamon had promised. Dressed in a pair of dark blue sweats he had used for running he pulled on the same colored sleeveless T-shirt, then moved downstairs as he ran his hands through his black, curly hair...

"Thanks Hun, you did a lot of work while I was loafing"

His eyes roamed over the now clean livingroom and kitchen then returned to where Cinnamon rested, watching her rub her feet he smiled, offering his hands.

"I've been told I give the best rubs...."

He spoke gently and sat beside her in the sofa, sighing as he relaxed and waited for his daughters reply.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

She smiled warmly at her father and scooted further up the couch, swinging both her legs onto his lap. “I know you give the best massages.” Cinnamon settled into the couch and then ran her fingers through her hair. “Thanks, Dad.”

It wasn’t long before she was feeling the strength in his touch and the day’s events slowly began to settle into a thought that was pushed away. She thought of Italy and how she’d wanted to go home as soon as possible, but now she was having second thoughts.

“Dad, I have a flight to catch at the end of the week, but I think I’ll cash in the ticket and stay longer. I can use my old room and well, I can keep house for you. I know you’ve been managing well on your own. . .but I’m sure the next few weeks are going to be hard, for both of us.”

She didn’t want to think about going through her mother’s personal effects or how photos were going to be pulled from albums and boxes, memories were going to be flushed to the surface and she was going to be thrust into a roller-coaster of emotions.

A soft sigh escaped her lips and she shifted herself lower toward her father’s skilled hands. Her eyes closed and she moaned as he worked his talented fingers over her corded flesh. “Who knows maybe I’ll call my friends and ask them to ship everything I own back here. After all I’ve graduated and. . .that feels good Dad. . .and I can make a go of it here.”

She bit down on her lip as yet another whimper of pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. She rested one hand on her stomach, and teased the silk material covering her stomach. The other she lay over her head and toyed with the brown and blonde locks. Her father’s hands were just what she needed she thought, as she turned slightly, unknowingly letting her ankle brush against his sex.

 

[BLACK BART]

Jack was floating between heaven and hell as Cinnamon relaxed on the couch and spoke to him.

“Dad, I have a flight to catch at the end of the week, but I think I’ll cash in the ticket and stay longer. I can use my old room and well, I can keep house for you. I know you’ve been managing well on your own. . .but I’m sure the next few weeks are going to be hard, for both of us.”

Hands working on her feet while her eyes were half closed, Cinnamon seemed unaware her dress had slid up, giving him an excellent veiw of her long, lithe legs

His groined twitched and he forced his mind back to what she had said, and away from the thoughts of what lay nestled up above and between those firm thighs.

"That would be real nice Cinn, it would give us the chance to get caught up?"

“Who knows maybe I’ll call my friends and ask them to ship everything I own back here. After all I’ve graduated and. . .that feels good Dad. . .and I can make a go of it here.”

Her moan was enough to break his concentration, and yet as she shifted and slid further down he knew he was doomed, his eyes could clearly see the tiny black wedge of panties covering her sex.

"I can help Cinn...there's money, more than enough...we were careful in our retirement planning?"

Jack tried a second time, then failed as Cinnamons ankle rubbed his already swelling cock, his eyes going to her face and closed eyes as he continued to rub her feet and ankles.

She was an erotic goddess at that moment, her hand rubbing slow circles over her stomach, her lips pouting as if begging to be kissed, even her nipples were hard and threatening to poke through the thin fabric of her dress...

For long minutes he allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to seduce her, and how she would feel as his cock moved in and out of her lithe body...His eyes feasting on her young body and watching it begin to respond to sensations created from more than just a massage.

He nearly came in his sweats when her fingers moved lower on her stomach and her pink tongue slid out between her lips, her hips shifting and causing her ankle to rest against his now fully erect cock.

"Cinn?"

He groaned, loathe to break the moment, and yet a part of his mind telling him very wrong it was

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

She moaned and took a deep breath, catching the whiff of her father’s cologne. Her muscles were putty in his hands and she was unaware of the effect she was having on her father. She was concentrating on his hands and how good they felt working her flesh into a more agreeable state. “Yeah?” she asked, not opening her eyes.

The silence seemed to feel the air around her and she moved her arm, tilted her head up and then looked down at herself. Her face suddenly felt washed in a ray of pink hue as she took in her raised skirt. The edge of her thigh high stockings and the garter clip was clearly visible. She chuckled softly suddenly aware also of what type of view she’d given her father. “I’m so sorry, Dad,” she gasped and quickly jerked herself up.

Her gaze brushed over his now empty lap and it paused at the site of his tented sweat pants. Dawning seemed to reach her just as her face grew another bright shade of red and she tugged her blouse down, hoping that her father had missed the signs of her erect nipples. The image of his aroused state however was burned in her mind and her body had only responded naturally. She swallowed the shock that threatened to bubble up from deep inside her and reached for her tea. A large gulp filled her throat and slid down to nestle in the warmth of her stomach. She licked her lips and then smoothed her palms down her skirt, after setting the partially drank beverage back to the tray.

She glanced back at her father, unsure as to what to say or do in such an awkward situation. Again her tongue snaked out and she licked her lips. “It’s been a long day Dad,” she whispered and then stood up. She pushed her fingers through her hair and tried to look unaffected by her father’s crotch. She knew the evidence that was slipping into the silk of her panties was the proof she needed to proclaim her guilt, but she couldn’t let him see that. Instead she smiled warmly. “I’m going to brush my teeth, wash this powder from my face and change for bed. I’ll let you close the house up and then maybe you should get some sleep.”

Cinnamon bent down to kiss her father. She’d meant to press the chaste kiss to his cheek, but instead found herself leaving it at the corner of his lip. “Think nothing of it,” she whispered to him, knowing he was more than aware of his state of arousal. She moved back up and headed up the stairs to prepare herself for bed. At the top of the steps she stopped and yelled down, “Don’t forget to tuck me in.”

Her routine of washing away the days dust and particles from her face was one her mother had ingrained into her. When she came to bed it was with a clean face, and her hair brushed out to lay in soft waves down her back. Quickly she changed into a yellow pajama top and matching pajama shorts, normally she’d have slept in the buff, but she would change after her father said his goodnights. “Why Cin?” she asked herself and then remembered the state she’d left him in. “He wouldn’t. . .would he? Would I?” she whispered and then gnawed on the inside of her cheek, for she didn’t and couldn’t answer herself.

 

[BLACK BART]

Jack cursed himself as he watched his daughter climb the steps, his tongue tasting her lips where they had kissed his, the sweetness of it making his cock even harder as he moved around the house flipping switches and locking doors.

His mind kept drifting back to the image now burned in his mind, of Cinnamon the Woman, becoming aroused by his touch and reacting to it so damn erotically.

In his own room he cursed softly again, seeing the door leading to the shared bathroom open a scant inch and knowing it was just enough to catch the reflection of Cinnamon getting ready for bed if he looked...

It was an old trick, one he and Becky had both used, making sure thier daughter was in bed on time by peeking through the tiniest opening and using the glass mirror to look into her own room...Only now as Jack used it he was looking not at a tiny girl getting ready, but a full grown and well shaped woman that was undressing to the buff and then slipping back into a brief version of grown up pajamas.

He had to wait for his erection to subside before getting off his own bed and walking down the hall, then grit his teeth before he knocked on Cinnamons door.

"Ready to be tucked in hun?"

He almost wished she would have answered she changed her mind, but she didn't, and as she opened the door the first thing he saw was her long, long legs that lead to the short shorts....which were already climbing up her thighs...

"Sweet dreams Cinnamon"

He smiled and looked into her face, his hands pulling up the covers and brushing her soft full mounds as he tucked them under her chin.

"Don't let the bed bugs bite"

He continued the old game and bent over and kissed the first cheek.

"Or ever forget to write"

And kissed her second cheek.

"I'm gald you came home and happy to hear you might say"

He finished, leaning over her, his upper arm resting on the side of her full breast.

What ever possessed him he wasn't sure, but after he reached up and turned off the lamp perched on her headboard he dropped his head to capture her lips with his and held them there...

Until he felt her respond and moan softly

"GoodNight Cin"

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Cinnamon watched him hover over her; she knew what was going to happen seconds before it did, maybe she even knew minutes before. She wasn’t however prepared for the way her body responded. Her head came up and her lips pressed back. The soft moan was one that she couldn’t contain; it surprised her and she knew it had probably surprised her father as well. When he pulled his mouth from hers to whisper goodnight she almost cried out from the loss of his touch. She didn’t though, instead she blinked and nodded her head, pulling her lower lip into her mouth and gnawing on it gently.

Her fingers wrapped around the covers and she pulled the edge up higher than her father had rested it. “Goodnight, Dad,” she whispered and then tried to ignore the heat of her skin where his hands had brushed against her breasts. She also fought to ignore the tingling of her sex as she savored the taste of his coffee and her freshly minted breath mingling together. “Can you leave the hall light on,” she asked him as he stood up to his full height. “I still don’t like the dark,” she admitted, knowing at the age of twenty, the one fear of hers had not yet been conquered.

She waited till he was gone and only then did she take a deep calming breath, though it did little to calm her. Her bedroom door remained opened, and the light of the hall cast a soft glow into her room. She strained to listen to her father ready himself for bed. Thoughts of what he was doing, what he looked like as well as what he was thinking filled her mind and she felt her nipples grow taunt and her sex throb. Her hand slid down into her pajamas and as she closed her eyes, she pictured her father.

The erotic image, she knew was wrong, but she was in the privacy of her bedroom. Her mind was hers to control and she knew her Dad didn’t want her in that way; he was just lonely. He missed mom. She missed her too, but the idea of being with her father made her body hum with excitement. “You’re a slut,” she told herself as her pussy began to tighten around her slim fingers. She knew she was a slut, what kind of girl would fantasize about her Dad after burying her mother hours before.

A tear of guilt escaped her lids, but she continued to use her hand to reach the point of no return. “Daddy,” she whispered as her back arched and she twisted herself to the side. Her slick fluids coated her fingers and she shuddered violently as she came a second time. “God Cin. You’re a real class act,” she muttered, pulling her fingers from her pussy and then bringing them up to her nose. She breathed in the heady aroma and then washed away the evidence of her incestuous fantasy.

 

[BLACK BART]

Jacks body tingled as he stood behind his door and thought of how Cinnamon had reacted to his kiss.

There was no doubt in his mind as to what might have happened, STILL could happen if only he wanted it to....

And that was the paradox, he knew, as he pulled his harness out of his pants and began to stroke it.

It was WRONG.

But what made it worse was the sounds coming from Cinnamons own room, the open door letting them through clearly, and as he stood at his own door and watched?

He had no doubts that she was taking care of her "business" in the only way she could.

Or that was exactly what he should be doing, and NOT thinking about joining her in her bed.

In the end he did, almost crying as he put Rebecca's face on Cinnamon's body, and stroked himself to completion, convincing himself he was making love to his wife...

The next morning he was the one making coffee, strong...black and leaded, a list in front of him with things to do and a determined look in his eyes as Cinnamon padded barefoot down the steps.

"Hey baby girl"

He greeted her with genuine warmth and amusement.

"Still hate to get up early, huh?"

What he recieved in reply made him laugh, and as Cinnamon pulled her pink tongue back in she joined him, the mixed up feelings of the night before easily forgotten as he oured her a cup of his brew and slid it to her...

"What's the plan Dad?"

Cinnamon asked after draining half her mug, well used to his lists and the energy he generated in eliminating the lines on them.

"I'm selling the house Baby"

He dropped the bombshell and studied his daughters face.

"After I pack everything and put it into storage, of course, and after I've found that condo beside the beach....I've a list of things to help me get started for both of us, the first thing you could do for me is to take my truck and return these trips...we never got to use?"

Determination. It burned in his eyes and let him see straight. Right past the full curves of the women he almost slept with the night before and stright to a new future...

"I'll make the calls to the agents about the house and wanting a new place, then get to work on packing things up in the garage and outside....by then you should be back and we can have some lunch...at the Paragon, perhaps?"

Cinnamon nodded and he kissed her, then moved past her to the open garage door and the boxes he had already packed and labeled to back his four wheeler out.

"You've got seven things to do on your list hun, you best get moving..."

He suggested with a grin and moved outside, whistling a tune that should have been cheery and light but sounded more like a dead mans dirge...

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Cinnamon stared at her father as he retreated from the room. Her jaw still hung open, her mouth gaping from the shock of what he’d decided. She looked at the list as well as the tickets in her hands concerning the trip her father and mother were supposed to take. "How long had he been wanting to leave this place?"she thought to herself. She looked around the room and could see the signs of her mother everywhere. The decor screamed Rebecca; it was classy, homey and nothing like Cinnamon’s more modern style of living. This was home though; this was where she sat on the counter and made cookies with her mother. Her father couldn’t just take that away from her. . .but he was going to.

He left her alone, knowing she’d carry out his wishes. She couldn’t move though. She sat there for twenty minutes, listening to her father move this or that around in the garage just off from the utility room. She stood up, squared her shoulders and told herself she could not allow him to just wipe her mother’s life away in one swift blow. Suddenly she stopped short and felt her shoulders droop. “You’re being selfish again,” she inwardly chastised, "You got rid of your mom when you found out she was sick. He needs to start over. You need to grow up.” She felt her fingers curl into fists as a new sense of determination pushed away the selfishness. Again she studied the list, then darted upstairs to throw on a pair of sneakers and pull her hair into a ponytail.

Once outside she looked around for her Dad, but didn’t see him. Shrugging her shoulders she climbed into the truck and buckled herself in. She didn't think she looked too stunning in her jeans and sweater; she simply looked like a small chick driving a mammoth vehicle. She liked it though, it made her feel taller and powerful. As she shifted gears she thought of her father and how much he’d been through. This led her back to the night before.

“He was just lonely,” she whispered as she flipped the radio on and listened to the local morning crew crack perverted jokes about women and men and their sex lives. She rolled her eyes, knowing she was one of the ones without a sex life. She’d lost her virginity to one of her teachers in Italy. It was not a fulfilling experience for her and the act was never repeated. “Slam. Bam. Thank ya, ma’am,” she muttered as she thought of her first and last time.

Cinnamon almost missed the travel agent's office, so lost in the memories of the past. She quickly pulled into the parking lot, killed the engine and walked inside. When she left forty minutes later it was with a frown on her face and annoyance in her heart. Her father was not going to be thrilled with the news she was presenting him with. The very expensive trip was non-refundable. She rolled her eyes, wondering what he’d been thinking to purchase such an extravagant trip and not make sure there weren’t loop holes.

Shaking her head she got in the car and continued to go about her day, fulfilling her father’s wishes and then stopping at the airport to cash in her tickets, something the agency refused to do for her, since she had not used them to acquire the tickets. Another chip rose on her shoulder, causing her to make one unscheduled stop at the liquor store, where she picked up a bottle of wine, winking at the young man who flirted with her, when she told him she forgot her driver's license. It wasn’t the cheapest, she told herself as she put the bottle on the truck seat, but it wasn’t the most expensive either.

The morning was gone by the time Cinnamon reached home and she was ready to open her wine and guzzle it down, already she was remembering her father was ridding her and him of the house in which she'd grown up in.

 

[BLACK BART]

Jack was pleased with himself.

Garage packed and the outside yard done as well he had moved to the bedroom his wife and he had shared.

"These I keep"

He had carefully packed everything that reminded him of Rebecca, from pictures, to keepsakes, to her perfumed hankies that she never used...

"These I will throw...or give away"

He piled the accumualtion of sex toys they had bought over the years, from nipple clamps, to dildoes, to bondage gear...

All he needed was more boxes, he decided with a smile, and when Cinnamon returned they could pick them up after a nice dinner...

The door slammed below and Jack moved with his refound easy grace, taking the steps in three easy leaps to see the form of Cinnamon stomp by him...

"How'd it go Cin?"

He approached carefully, picking up the tickets for the trip and reading the carefully written explanation on the attached sticky notes....

"NON REFUNDABLE><TIME DATED TICKETS><MUST USE BY DATE MARKED"

"I'd forgotten"

His energy suddenly and badly drained, he recalled Rebecca's face as they bought the tickets and her soft words to be with him...

"She promised me...and we never thought..."

With a long face he raised his eyes, to see Cinnamon standing in the kitchen doorway with a half full glass in one hand and the open bottle in the other...

"At least you didn't pack the kitchen...yet."

Her icy words told him the mood she was in and yet he shrugged, the pain too fresh and biting to feel much more...

"I guess this means you don't want dinner at the Paragon....I'll order pizza..."

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Her face fell after he mentioned the restaurant. She closed her eyes and set the bottle down on a nearby table, her glass soon followed. “God damn it,” she muttered and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Dad. I completely forgot. I just . . . I just wasn’t thinking again. No, Paragon’s sounds lovely. It really does. I can drink wine there, too. If you slip the waiter a bill or two so I don’t get carded.” She winked, and smiled back at him, hoping he knew she really wanted to go out and enjoy an evening away from the house where her mother seemed to be slowly disappearing.

She stepped up and placed her hand against his cheek. “I’m trying Dad. I’m trying very hard to let her go and I know you have, or at least you seem to be doing it better than I am, then again you’ve had time to prepare for this, haven’t you?”

She tucked herself into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I don’t mean to be selfish. I am trying not to be. Just be patient with me. Please?” she asked tipping her head back and looking up at him.

Cinnamon stared into his eyes; her gaze traveled across the strong jaw and then rested on his lips. She breathed deep, once more drawn to the scent of the man who held her as a child and now held her as a woman. She shifted against him, purposely letting her breasts brush against his chest. A whimper escaped her lips and she ran her tongue out, without thought as to how it looked, moistened the soft petals and then found herself rising up on her toes to press her lips to his.

The kiss was soft and she moaned quietly into his mouth as his hands instinctively held her tighter. Her tongue timidly snaked out and she felt her pulse jump. A shrill sound burned into her subconscious and she jerked back. Her face grew three brighter shades than the night before and she pulled herself from his embrace. The phone rang again and she darted up the stairs leaving her father to answer whoever had saved her from further embarrassing herself.

When she reached her bedroom, she slammed the door closed and leaned against its sturdy structure. “Jesus fucking Christ Cin!” she yelled at herself and slipped to the floor. She buried her head in her hands and tried to take deep breaths, ordering herself to compose her racing heart.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she knew she had to get ready for dinner. She rose from her place on the floor and quickly headed to her closet, now full of the clothing she’d brought from Italy. Her fingers ran over several cocktail dresses and a few evening dresses. She knew any of the items she had would work, but all of them revealed more of her pale flesh than she wanted her father to see, especially now that she’d kissed him.

Eventually she settled on a long evening dress with rhinestone trim. The sheer stretch mesh hugged her torso, and the darker material kept the pink of her areolas hidden from any gazing eyes. The long skirt had a thigh high slit up the front, but she hoped the matching collar that hugged her neck would distract her father from the flesh that peeked out when she walked or sat.

She pulled the gloves from the case where the soft collar had rested and slipped them on. Her stilettos added another four inches and she applied a thin silver anklet to her trim ankle. A swipe of gloss adorned her lips and she pulled her hair from the ponytail, ran her fingers through the dirty blonde locks and gave her head a shake. “Just breathe,” she told herself as she headed down to meet her father for dinner.

 

[BLACK BART]

Jack was stunned as Cin kissed him, and just as he pulled her close and began to return the kiss, she fled....the sound of his phone breaking the trance and leaving him to listen to the best wishes of another friend...

Upstairs he nearly laughed, as he fought to get his dirty pants off and then a fresh set on, not because he was too fat but because of the immense hard on Cin's kiss had given him. By the time he slid on a white, long sleeved shirt he was able to button them, and as he tied his black heater shoes he was relieved to feel only the occasional twitch in his groin and move downstairs without trouble.

That is until he heard the click of high heels and looked up to see Cinnamon carefully stepping down the stairs....

"You like?"

Cinnamons words came to him and he realized he was staring and snapped his mouth shut, he also realized that she had asked him if he "liked" what he saw, rather than approved of how she was dressing....

"I like, very much"

He returned and let his eyes roam up and down her flawless figure, his gaze remaining on her face as he looked at her as a desirable woman...and not his daughter.

"Lets go"

The Paragon was close. It was what brought Rebecca and him to it in the first place, and the food and drink was wonderful...which was what made Jack purchase "his" table an a romantic and secluded corner of the Lounge....

"We weren't expecting you, but your table stands ready Jack"

The maitre de met them at the door and eyed Cinnamon, the confusion showing in his eyes....

"My Daughter, Cinnamon, Mr Franks..."

Jack spoke proudly and made introductions,

"She lives...lived in Italy and has come home..."

"Then allow me to offer such a fine lady her choice of drink or wine for the evening, on the house, of course...."

The older man beamed and led them to Jack's table and waved a waitress over to them.

"Maria will take care of you tonight Mister Jack, and I offer my condolances for your loss...."

Strangely the words didn't hurt, and as Jack thanked the Maitre de he wondered if he was being unfaithful the memory of his wife...

"He's a nice man, isn't he...dad"

Cinnamons words cut into his thoughts and he realized the first glass of wine was already poured and that the waitress was looking at him curiously as she waited for thier orders.

"Yes Cin...He is"

Jack agreed softly and drank his wine, the first taste telling him Cinnamon had excellent taste in her drink as well as her clothes...

"Lets order...and then we can talk...while we eat, ok?"

He offered gently, knowing as the waitress winked at him it wasn't talk he had so much in mind....as it was Cinnamon...and getting her somewhere where the phone wouldn't ring as they kissed...

"Tell me off Italy Cin....you've grown up to be such a sophisticated and gourgeous woman....I'm so proud of you"

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Cinnamon sipped at her wine and tried to not notice the look her father cast in her direction. She shifted nervously, but told herself is she didn’t move this way all would be well, and if she moved that way all would be loss, so she did her best to keep her legs from instinctively crossing at the knee which would cause the slit in the front to open and show a great deal of her thigh. She made a promise to herself to go shopping for less revealing clothes the next day, so she wasn’t forced to look like a conniving female going after a lonely widow’s wallet.

The looks from other patrons had been directed at her and her father. At first she welcomed them, but then as they continued and she noticed palms rising up to whisper behind their fingers, she felt more self-conscious. Eventually the meal arrived and she focused on her father and his request. The secluded table and the wine helped to mellow her some and she felt the tension of their arrival ease from her shoulders.

“Italy is beautiful Dad. You and mom gave me a great opportunity and I can’t thank you enough.” Her smile was genuine as she began to tell him about her classmates and about her friends, her roommate and some of the escapades they partook in. She touched on subjects that made her smile and laugh, she avoided those that brought forth depressing subjects.

She mentioned the first year, being one of learning and of change. She barely mentioned her instructor, just saying he was a decent teacher. Her gaze became far away after reflecting on the man that she’d given herself too. She spooned her dessert mindlessly into her mouth as she compared her father’s touch to the only other man that had held her so intimately. It was different, more alive and more heated. In her father’s arms she felt alive, but she was also scared. She’d been disappointed in her first sexual experience, so much so she knew she was a failure in bed. That thought brought a frown to her lips and she sensed her father’s concern for her sudden change in demeanor.

Brushing the memory aside, she put on a false smile and then reached out to touch her father’s hand. “I’m glad I’m home, Dad,” she told him, squeezing his fingers and then trying to think of a reason to continue holding his hand. She pulled away, reluctant to loose the connection, but knowing it was wrong to want to hold him again.

 

[BLACK BART]

Jack could feel something wasn't right with Cinnamon as the meal began, her eyes kept lifting to the crowd in the club and her body rocked to and fro, both indications of how nervous she was becoming.

For a few minutes she seemed less agitated as she spoke of Italy and the world she lived in, then that too seemed to depress her until she quit speaking of it all together and simply told him

“I’m glad I’m home, Dad,”

The hand she touched him with was warm, and it shot electric thrill up his own, until she pulled it away and he missed her touch instantly....

"I am too Cin...but something is bothering you here, lets cut this short and go home...where we can talk...heart to heart?"

With her assent he waved the waitress over and paid the check, admonishing her worries and explaining how long and taxing the last two days had been.

"Poor baby, we all thought she was your new girlfriend, and owe her an apology, your daughter is a lovely woman!"

The waitress tittered in embaressment and thanked them a second time as they left, scolding the Maitre de as she did to be told he had "told her Jack was widowed"

Outside Jack laughed as he realized he had missed being "set up" by a narrow margin and then sobered as he knew it was partially the reason for Cinnamons uncomfortable poise inside the lounge as well.

"I am so sorry hun"

He apologized to her in the truck and wished he could hug her.

Inside the house again he closed the door gently and locked it, loathe to turn on the lights or face Cinnamon for fear of her seeing his desire for her...

"Would you want a glass of wine...here? I can turn on the radio and we could sit on the couch, or at the table?"

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Cinnamon felt her father’s presence and she wanting nothing more than to feel his arms around her. She chewed on her lower lip and told herself everything she was feeling was wrong. She was not his wife. She was not his girlfriend. She was his daughter and she had no right to feel the emotions that were pitting themselves against her morals and commonsense. He was lonely. She was hurt.

“Wine sounds nice and the kitchen is probably safer,” she told him as she walked over to the cabinet that held her mother’s crystal. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before turning to face her father. Safer, she told herself, because they could sit apart from each other. They wouldn’t touch. They wouldn’t brush against one another. They would sit and talk like a father and child were supposed to do. “But you’re not a child. . . not in that dress, anyway,” she mentally told herself, suddenly aware of her protruding nipples and the sheer material that hugged her trim figure.

She handed him the glasses and then claimed a seat at the table. After Jack poured her a glass and then his own he claimed a seat and waited for her to speak.

“Italy was great Dad, really it was. And dinner was wonderful too. I wasn’t thinking about what I was wearing, well. . .I was and maybe that’s the problem. Those people thought I was your date,” she blushed, “I’m sorry for embarrassing you.” She looked up at him and felt her eyes becoming lost in his.

Quickly she shook her head and sat back in her chair. Her fingers stroked the stem of the crystal and then eventually the tip of her pointer finger ran the path of the glass' blown edge. “I’ll go shopping tomorrow for more suitable clothing. There isn’t much upstairs for Paragon dining that would have covered more than this.” She blushed and ran her hand down her leg, gripped the slit and held it closed.

 

[BLACK BART]

Jack listened to Cinnamons words and knew how uncomfortable she was in his home, just as she had been in the Lounge...

"Cin, you didn't embaress me, I could see how uncomfortable you were and tried to help, if I knew the waitress was spreading that rumor I would have given them all something to wag thier tongues about."

Thinking back to the touch she gave him over the table he wondered just what it would be like if they weren't in a crowd, and he smiled at the thought of her question earlier.

"Before dinner when you came down the steps you asked me if I liked...and when you did it wasn't just the dress you meant was it. I could see it in your eyes the way a woman wants a man to look at her, and the way she wants him..."

He had stuck his foot in his mouth and he knew it, telling his own daughter he wanted her and that she wanted him.

"God I'm sorry Cin, I should have never said that...or kissed you...."

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Her eyes grew wide at his confession and she sat there stunned. After a few seconds passed, though to Cinnamon they seemed like hours, she rested her hands on her lap. “Dad,” she whispered, swallowing her nervousness as best she could. “Don’t apologize. The last couple of days have been hard. . . and awkward.”

She rose from her chair and walked over to her father. She wanted to touch him, settle herself on his lap and curl into his chest. He would make her doubts and fears go away, he always had before, but now she knew if she gave into that emotion she would be in trouble, more trouble than either of them could imagine. She had to be strong for him, for them.

Cinnamon slid down to her knees and placed her hands on her father’s lap. “Daddy, I liked the way you looked at me. I enjoyed our kiss, but . . .” she pulled her bottom lip with her teeth, “It’s just this place Dad. You’ve been here so long, alone. Mom in the hospital, me in Italy. Maybe it would be best if you took that trip, you know the one, the one you can’t get your money back from.”

Her eyes took in his strong features and she felt her pulse racing. “You need a vacation. Maybe you’ll catch some island girl’s eye. I know it sounds callus to talk about something like that, but. . .remember you’ve been without for a long time and I’m sure what has happened between us is just going to dissolve once you have a variety plate in front of you.”

She grinned, hoping he would try to latch onto the lie she was feeding herself. She wasn’t sure if having him paraded in front of other women was the smart move or not, already the idea gave her a queasiness that she wanted to avoid and not label as jealousy.