Eli’s Awakening

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Very special thanks to Techsan for editing my story, and so quickly too.

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are purely fictitious and in no way to my knowledge relate to the story of anyone living or dead. All characters are of the legal age of consent (18) during any scene of sexual intercourse (masturbation and voyeurism included).


Chapter One

(Written in First Person)

I’d lived a comfortable life. As comfortable as one could get considering my mom had died when I was ten. However, I never grew up bitter about it because I have a great father.

My dad told me he and my mom had met when he had come to teach her to play jazz piano and it had been love at first sight. I found out later from a journal of mom’s I’d found in her box in the attic that it had really been lust at first sight.

He was fifteen, when he stepped into my eighteen year old mother’s, life. They began a rigorous training process in building her jazz repertoire, and three years later on his eighteenth birthday, his libido.

No one objected when Alice Harper and John Calloway were married three months later and I was born less than six months after that, and not prematurely either, having been a whopping ten pounds and two ounces.

Yes, those were my giant days. Luckily I grew out of it, or never grew in to it as the case may be. Oh, sorry. My name is Melissa or Eli Calloway as I prefer to be called. I recently turned nineteen years old and just a few weeks before my birthday was unaware of the impending incident that would change my life.

But right now I’m moving way ahead of myself. Before I tell you of said incident, I must relay certain details of my life that, though seemingly inconsequential to those of you who seek a quick thrill, is not completely tawdry.

I had always been an overachiever, so it was little surprise when I was accepted to an Ivy League university in Massachusetts. It was greater still when my Dad declared he had accepted an offer to teach at a prominent music school there, allowing me to live rent free and supervised with him. I suppose you can tell who was happy with what end of the bargain.

Well, actually, that’s not a fair picture of my character. The truth is, I’d always been, though slightly popular in the non-cheerleader, school paper editor sort of way, a little bit shy. So being supervised by my dad while a freshman at university was sort of akin to watering your garden in the rain.

I suppose after that statement I don’t need to tell you I’m a virgin. But what might shock you is the admission that I’ve only been seriously kissed twice and that was by my boyfriend of one week Stan from the ninth grade who I found kissing Sally Bennet under the bleachers at a football game I was covering at the end of that week.

But that part isn’t really relevant to the story, so let me get back to it. My mom died of breast cancer and for a reasonable amount of time, pretty much ruined our lives. It was easier for me at ten to get past losing her so in a couple of years I accepted it and moved on. It took my dad a little longer though. To this day there is still sometimes an odd look on his face when he passes our family photo on the wall over the fireplace.

But don’t get it wrong, my mother had awakened a ferocious sexual beast in him, one that had quietly bided its time during the mourning period and had erupted in a string of relationships, the last one of which leads me to the incident I had earlier mentioned.

Her name was Sophie, and she looked a lot like my mom, not that this was a pattern for my father – he didn’t have those types of hang-ups. It’s just that she happened to be the long-legged, big-busted singer he happened to take a liking to who happened to have the same blonde hair and hazel eyes as my mom. The last couple of months it had been a short red-headed monster who played cello in the college’s orchestra. But she’s out of our lives and therefore nameless, so back to Sophie.

Sophie was a nice woman and she seemed to like me. Our rapport was so good, Dad started asking her over for dinner on a semi-regular basis. When I first met her it was at one of those dinners and it became obvious to me why he liked her.

After dinner, Dad would always drive her home and say sheepishly, “Don’t wait up, Honey.” As if I didn’t know what he was going off to do.

But knowing it and seeing it were two different things. Dad had had a steady stream of girlfriends since I was about fourteen. I could see why. At thirty-seven he looked a slightly older version of himself at twenty, then, a devilishly handsome young man with his arms around his wife and his daughter in his lap. Grey had yet to touch his curly raven hair, hair that was so like mine. And the wrinkles around the corner of his blue eyes only made his smile more sincere. I’d heard an old girlfriend compare him to a bottle of wine. I don’t think I need to relate the comparison.

But even though he never tried to hide the pendik escort fact that he had a busy sex life, he was careful to keep it out of my way. Which meant his girlfriends didn’t sleep over. So on the nights when he’d be staying over at their places, I’d have a guy friend come over and… you know.

OK, so that was a little bit of a stretch since Mr. Buckley from next door, baby-sitting and then ‘checking in’ on me when I got older, isn’t exactly the stuff of fantasies. The truth was I didn’t know what I was missing when it came to sex. I was content with study and masturbation. That is until the incident.

Ah, here it is, the incident.

I came home from school four hours earlier than I normally did one Wednesday evening because my English teacher collapsed before class and so it and the subsequent writing club got cancelled. Oh, did I mention I was doing Journalism?

Our garage is at the back of the house so I usually would enter the house through the laundry room and go up the back stairs to my room right at the top. However, Dad’s car was parked blocking the driveway this day, so I was forced to park on the curb and enter through the front. I didn’t call out for him because we don’t normally do that. If we didn’t see each other downstairs, a simple knock on a bedroom door was acknowledgment. You never know when he’d be in the process of writing or recording or riding Sophie on his bed with his door wide open in the middle of the day.

I was so shocked I nearly cried out. There was Sophie, completely naked and on all fours before him, with her enormous breasts wobbling under her as Dad pumped her from behind.

I knew in my head that I should leave silently. In fact, I saw the word ‘RUN’ printed boldly in my imagination but stood rooted onto the spot until my knees began to give way and I had to crouch on the door frame to keep myself upright.

I became so horny I think I actually grew some. They were in my stomach, piercing whatever organ it was that now leaked a salacious fluid all over my panties.

As wet as I was though, I was content to just watch. Sophie’s moaning did well to cover up any noise I made with my wobbling knees. My undoing however, came when Dad grabbed Sophie’s French plait and pulled her back up to his chest. He looked into her eyes, simultaneously slowing his pace from a near gallop to a sultry grind. And then he moaned.

It was a sound unlike any I’d ever heard before. It seemed to come out of his organ up into his chest and out of his throat through his Adam’s apple, rippling its way on forbidden frequencies toward me across the room.

I came almost instantly. It was so forceful and so sudden I never had time to make a sound. But in my head it was so noisy. The sound of his moan kept reverberating. Over and over until it seemed I was riding a sea filled with waves made of his moan.


When it was all over, I quietly made my way up the hallway to my room.

Chapter Two.

(Written in third person)

Two months past that day, Eli admitted to herself that she was in trouble. Where once masturbation constituted clitoral stimulation while engrossed in a book, now thoughts of her father began to fill her fantasies.

At first she wisely analyzed that since it had been her first sexual encounter therefore it was quite normal to revisit the moment. However, when she began inserting a finger envisioning her thin digit would grow into his erect penis, she began to see the light.

Now she tried to tell herself that girls having crushes on their fathers was a completely normal thing. Except that most are usually nine and not nineteen, or at least a month away from that.

It was evident to her that neither John nor Sophie knew she had been there that day. Thank God for small blessings – she wouldn’t have liked having to talk herself out of that situation.

She tried to act as normally as she could, which was hard seeing as she spent quite a lot of time being caught by John staring. He would always smile warmly (eternally oblivious) and ask if he had something on his face. She then learned to be more guarded in her stares and on the rare occasions she was caught nowadays her answer would be to his question, “I’m just trying to figure out what all those women see.” His response would be laughter and her world would be set to right again.

School provided a good enough distraction for five minute intervals. Other than that, she was constantly ravaged by images of both of them in bed. When the first one of those had arrived, she had turned beet red in psychology class and answered a very easy question wrong.

Now, all she saw when she thought of him were images of them together. This made her so ashamed that it was becoming harder to face him each day.


She came home one night to find Sophie there, apron on over her short red dress and tongue buried deep inside John’s throat while the kitchen sink was left running silivri escort water over lettuce.

She cleared her throat sharply to get their attention and was met by two pairs of smiling eyes.

“Eli,” Sophie said with real warmth in her voice. “we’re cooking your favorite tonight.” This meant roast pork with mashed potatoes and a green salad.

“And having all the fun without me I see,” she said, placing her bag on a stool at the island.

“Well now, not all of it.” Sophie laughed. Her statements like that usually made Eli remember why she liked her so much. However, tonight, her sense of humour was getting on Eli’s nerves. She laughed like she loved it though.

John smiled at them and while taking the potatoes off the fire enquired about her day.

“It was good.” And when she realized she sounded a bit weird, added. “I heard ‘Ambrosia’ on the radio.” Ambrosia was a bossa nova tune John had recorded with a prominent jazz saxophonist about five years ago which had helped greatly to send Eli to university.

“Good, that means you can go to school next year after all.” He was joking but it gave Eli a grave look. “What is it, hon?” he asked.

“Dad I’m… I’m gonna be nineteen in a couple of weeks.”

“Let me guess, you want a birthday trip to the moon?” That was an ongoing joke with them since she was about nine. It made her smile, a little sadly though.

“No. I was wondering if we could use the royalties to pay boarding at school next semester.”

It was obvious on his face that this threw him for a loop. He took a while to say something. “I don’t see why. We have a good thing here. You don’t live too far from school and you have a car. You…”

“John,” Sophie interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “A girl at her age needs a little bit of privacy.

The look he gave her was one of polite annoyance. “Sophie, please stay out of this.” He looked at Eli. “Why do you want to move?”

‘Because if I don’t I’m going to make a fool of myself around you’. That’s what she thought, but what she said was. “We both deserve some privacy, Dad.”

“I give you privacy. And I have all the privacy I need in the world.”

“C’mon, Dad. Sophie’s never slept over.”

“That’s not a problem for us.”

“Speak for yourself, John,” Sophie said.

He gave her a quelling look.

Nothing was going right here. “Okay. Forget about it for tonight. We can talk about it over the weekend.” It seemed everyone agreed with Eli’s idea, although the rest of the night was very strained. All three ate quietly the whole time.

Eli told them she’d clean up so Sophie told her goodbye and her Dad did his usual routine, though this time minus the shyness as he still had a bit of a residual anger.

She had a bath and climbed into bed in her usual panties and tank top, quickly succumbing to the need between her legs that seemed to assail her every night these last few months.

Slipping her hand into her red panties she sighed and welcomed the familiar thoughts as her stereo churned out smooth blues by the name of Holiday.


John returned less than an hour later, his fight with Sophie while he drove her home having ruined all chances of a night together. He wasn’t an unreasonable man. He just thought it would have been prudent of her to stay out of something that really had nothing to do with her.

He began to wonder if she was becoming too attached. That was usually a sign that he needed to cool things off. Sophie had known from the beginning not to expect much from him in terms of a relationship. He was pretty much sure he never wanted to remarry. But her knowing that and accepting it meant two different things.

Seeing the lights were off, he went in quietly, not wanting to wake Eli if she were asleep. Her room’s window was to the side of the house and had a big tree right outside it which made it impossible for him to tell if she was still awake. But when he got up the stairs and walked past his bedroom door he saw the light creeping out through the sides of her door.

As he got closer, he heard the music wafting from her stereo and knocked softly enough to get her attention if she were awake but not wake her if she wasn’t. When no answer came he pushed the door silently open. But what he saw made him forget his intention of turning her lights off.

Eli lay on her back, her black hair fanning around her on her blue pillow, brown eyes closed in obvious ecstasy. Her lips were red from her apparent nibbling and her white tank top wrung up to reveal her pink breasts to the hand that kneaded them, the other hand buried deep inside her scarlet underwear, working languorously in and out of her pussy.

John felt all his blood rush from his head to his groin. “Eli,” he called out, slightly confused.

A number of things happened at once. Eli’s eyes sprung open and there was a break in transmission on the radio. As she begun to say, “Dad” her şirinevler escort orgasm assailed her turning the end into an exaggerated cry and the hand in her pussy began to pump faster.

For the almost half a minute it took to subside, it was all John could do to stay rooted on his spot by the door. His cock was throbbing with an insipient need and the one impulse he had was the only one he couldn’t accept. And it wasn’t to walk out of the room.

She was still slightly spasming when she finally refocused on him and she pulled her hand from her panties while simultaneously fixing her shirt. “Dad?”

This and the return of the radio seemed to wake him up a bit so he averted his eyes and said softly, “I’m so sorry, Melissa.”

And with a very strong effort said goodnight, turned and left.

Chapter Three

Things were more than a little strained between them the next day. In fact, Eli stayed in her room for nearly an hour trying to gather the courage necessary to head downstairs for breakfast.

When she got down it was to find that John had left a note saying he had errands to run. Although she was unconvinced by this excuse, she was still relieved that the inevitable was postponed.

With it being a Saturday, she decided to call a friend from school. Karen was a twenty year old English major at the university whom Eli had met on her first day there. They had quickly become fast friends and now spent much of their free time together. She would be the perfect distraction for Eli at a time like this.


John came home to an empty house and couldn’t say that he wasn’t slightly relieved. Last night had been so unbelievable he sometimes didn’t really believe it had actually happened.

Finding Eli in that position had done things to him that he couldn’t understand. Well, of course he understood it… but he just couldn’t accept that she had affected him in that way. Did it mean something was wrong with him?

He’d always enjoyed sex, loved women and thought that as long as something felt good it couldn’t be wrong. But that philosophy just didn’t add up for him now, because last night had felt too good for something that was so wrong.

The only time he could remember getting a hard-on so quickly was the first time with Alice. And he was fairly certain it hadn’t gotten that hard until near the end of their sexual encounter, not the beginning… and certainly not when he hadn’t even touched her.

His problem wasn’t that he had caught his daughter masturbating and gotten hard, that was only too natural a thing. The problem lay in that he hadn’t stopped thinking about it, and was still so easily excitable by the vision that he didn’t even trust closing his eyes.

This wasn’t working out after all. Maybe the best thing would be that Eli moved out. And soon, before he did something she’d never forgive.


They talked it over that evening and it was decided she would move into a dorm come the next semester. The only problem was that that was nearly five months away.

He told her last night had made him realize her need for freedom, and she told him that he needed some too, even if he didn’t realize it. They left the topic of the night before pretty dry though, neither really wanting to acknowledge to the other what had happened.

Life went on rather normally for them for the next four weeks. Ignoring the fact of what had happened made it easier for them to delve back into their usual routine, though their relationship lacked the cordiality that had been there before.

Three days before her nineteenth birthday presented the perfect opportunity for John to make up for the sour twist in their relationship since he felt it was his fault.

The city’s leading newspaper wanted to run an article about a show being put on by John and a group of musicians he sometimes worked with that was scheduled for the night of Eli’s nineteenth birthday. The only problem was, their only reporter knowledgeable enough about music to critique a slightly avant-garde jazz show was out of town covering one of the countries most respected music award shows.

John formed the idea quickly in his head and presented a portfolio of Eli’s best work to the editor, explaining that she was also his daughter so she knew as much about jazz as he did.

The editor was a little skeptical at first, though he openly acknowledged that Eli’s work was very good and he didn’t doubt her expertise on music. He had to point out that the article would be put in a very important slot in the paper so he couldn’t answer lightly. He called John early the next day though and told him she had the ‘Okay’.

She was so ecstatic when she heard that their hug was pretty normal, unstrained like the last couple they had shared.

Feeling light-hearted, he joked. “Only you could get excited about working on your birthday.”

“Oh, but I’ll enjoy your show too.” She gave a beaming smile and excused herself from the breakfast table to call Karen with the good news. Karen was genuinely excited and offered to take her shopping for her dress.

“I was going to pick up your present at the mall today anyway. So while you browse I could just run and get it.”

“That’s a great plan, we can go after my creative writing class.”

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