Disqualified as a Father
"Uh... uh?"
Min-ah's deep cleavage unfurled right in front of my eyes.
"Dad. Today's menu is spicy stir-fried pork! It's gonna be delicious, right?"
Min-ah was holding up a plate of stir-fried pork, wearing what looked like nothing but an apron.
Steam curled off the glistening red pork. I was starving — and this was my favorite food in the world. How could a girl who'd never once cooked this dish produce a plate this perfect? Springy little globules of fat flaunted their presence among the red sauce and vegetables. Pork fat, gochujang, chili powder, malt syrup, and sesame oil wove together into a smell that was nothing short of heavenly. This was no amateur's work.
Which is exactly why I couldn't look away.
From my daughter's... from Min-ah's pale white breasts.
Behind the white apron, two shameless mounds of flesh swayed above that delicious stir-fried pork. Like a pair of taut, inflated rubber balls colliding and bouncing in an organic, rhythmic dance.
Was I looking at the stir-fried pork? Or at my daughter's swollen, overflowing chest?
"Oh! I forgot the sesame seeds!"
"Ah... ah!! W-wait a sec——!"
What on earth possessed me to try and stop my daughter from turning around? What unholy thought had taken root in my head?
"Hm? What is it, Dad?"
Min-ah looked back at me over her shoulder, already turned around. Her back came into view. She was wearing a white slip dress the same color as the apron — a spaghetti-strap number, which was why it had looked like she was wearing nothing but the apron at all. Aside from a hem that ran a little too short, it seemed more modest than what she'd worn last time.
"Ah... it's nothing."
"Hmph. What's with you, Dad? Calling me out of nowhere."
With a little snort, Min-ah set the stir-fried pork back on the kitchen table and started hunting for the sesame seeds.
"Sesame... where did I put the sesame seeds..."
Clack. Clack.
Min-ah started rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. She didn't cook often, so she didn't know exactly what was where.
"Not here... not over there, either......"
Every time she stretched her arm up to open the upper cabinets, the underside of her ass peeked out — just barely — then vanished again.
"Ah......"
"Hm? Did you call me, Dad?"
"N-no... nothing."
I started to say something, then stopped. That's right. My daughter is an adult now. She has the right to choose what she wears. Would it even be right for me to tell her to dress more modestly? I don't know.
As an adult... as a father, this is obviously a situation where I should say something. Tell her to dress properly. But there's one thing that bothers me.
Until now, my daughter had always dressed modestly. Outside. And at home. But once she became an adult, she did a complete one-eighty. More precisely, it started after she got into university... after we went to the amusement park. That's when she began wearing those racy women's nightgowns at home — those slip dresses.
My little girl had been repressed all this time. The dating she wasn't supposed to do as a student. The college entrance exam she had to pass as a student. Blessedly, she'd followed every one of her father's wishes, a model daughter through and through. And when she got into Hankuk University — the most prestigious university in the country, and my own alma mater — I made up my mind to give her everything she wanted. My precious, beloved daughter, who had accomplished everything a minor was supposed to achieve and observe. I wanted to give her everything her heart desired.
What she chose was the freedom to dress as she pleased. Not the modest clothes she'd worn until now. This was a daughter who'd wrapped up that supremely beautiful body of hers all this time. It was only natural. A minor — and a schoolgirl, at that. Covering up was this country's morality, its order. Min-ah had done it all. She'd succeeded in getting into the best university in the country. And now she was an adult. Of course a girl like that would crave beautiful clothes that showed off her body. If I stopped her, it would be nothing more and nothing less than using a father's authority to deny his daughter a perfectly legitimate right.
That's right. I shouldn't say a word about those clothes. It's the reward for everything my daughter has accomplished, and a show of respect from one adult to another.
"Ugh, why isn't it here? Why can't I find it?"
My daughter was completely absorbed in her search for the sesame seeds. The truth is, I know exactly where they are. But my daughter is a proud woman. The food she made herself — she must have prepared so much just to serve it to me. But if my help went into making that food? She'd hate it, no question.
Min-ah had always liked doing things herself, ever since she was little. She'd try to learn something she didn't know at all, but once she'd learned it, she absolutely refused any help. Pride. The kind of pride that says I'll do it all myself, without anyone's help. That's a good kind of pride. The kind you need to live your life... to keep improving yourself.
"In here, maybe?"
My daughter bent at the waist to open the cabinet under the counter. She kept her legs straight as she folded forward, and the skirt of her white slip dress rode up toward her body.
Like a peach. An ass shaped like a white peach unfurled right before my eyes.
She was wearing the same T-back panties she'd worn at the amusement park. The fabric was so vanishingly small it barely covered her most private place, leaving every inch of her ass fully visible to my eyes.
"Hmm... hmm-hmm......"
She hummed as she rummaged through the spice cabinet. Every time she bounced her legs, her buttocks jiggled like taut, flesh-colored jelly.
"Ah... nngh......"
She didn't seem to care in the slightest that her ass was on full display. It was a provocative pose, as if she were saying, Please, look at my ass.
Between the cleft of those mounds. That secret garden connecting her two legs. The only place those panties were actually doing their job — panties whose purpose you couldn't even guess if you only looked at her ass. They clung there, plastered tight. Like a crumpled scrap of paper soaked in paste.
That's why I couldn't stop thinking about it. I didn't want to look. But I wanted to look. But I shouldn't look. Honestly, I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.
"Hmm... why can't I find the sesame seeeeds..."
Min-ah, why can't you find the sesame seeds? You were never this bad at finding things.
Twitch. Twitch. No matter how hard I tried to keep my eyes away, they kept going back.
No. I can't. I can't become the kind of shameless father who lusts after his own daughter!
"...Ah... Dad's gonna hit the bathroom real quick."
"Uh... huh? Dad? W-wait......"
Ignoring whatever my daughter was saying, I bolted straight into the master bathroom.
"Hah... hah... hah......."
I looked down at my lower half. My thing was half a step from bursting out.
"...Th-that was close......"
BANG. BANG.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Dad, what the heck? Why'd you suddenly run into the bathroom?"
Rattle. Rattle.
The bathroom door handle started shaking.
"I already sprinkled the sesame seeds, so it's perfect. You're gonna be so surprised when you taste it, Dad."
Rattle. Rattle.
"So come out already, Dad. Let's eat together."
Rattle. Rattle.
"I'm. Hun. Gry."
My mouth wouldn't open. Why? Why the hell did I hide in here? A crushing shame started tearing through my mind. No — not shame. Agony. The moral code sitting in my head was stabbing my brain with needles, merciless, relentless.
"Daaad~~ why aren't you answering? Hm?"
Rattle. Rattle.
I... I have to say something. But the words wouldn't come out.
"Dad... Daaaaad......."
Was it just my imagination, or was her voice growing a little more coquettish? Why had my daughter followed me all the way to the bathroom? The circuitry of my thoughts tangled into a knot. Nothing came to mind. I had no idea how I was supposed to act.
Rattle. Rattle.
"Please, Daaad... what are you doooing... say something... this is so frustrating......"
Right. I have to say something — anything. If I stay silent behind a locked door, I'll only make things worse.
"Ah... well... I-I just remembered something I have to do!!"
"Something you have to do...?"
"There's... there is... that kind of... anyway, sweetheart! You go ahead and eat first!"
"Aww... stir-fried pork only tastes good when we eat it together. You and me... just the two of us... like that... so deliciously......"
Rattle. Rattle.
"I'll help you. Let's do it together, Dad. Then you'll finish faster."
No. She can't help. Absolutely not.
"N-no!! Dad can do it himself!! So......."
Rattle-rattle!!
"I'm an adult now. I can help with whatever you're doing... so......"
Rattle!
"So... I can help you... with whatever you're trying to......"
RATTLE. RATTLE!!
I shouted before I even realized it. At that sound, the rattling bathroom handle stopped dead.
In all the years I'd raised my daughter, I had never once raised my voice. Watching my ex-wife scream at her, I'd sworn I would never, ever do that. And yet I'd just... done it.
"Sweetheart... I'm sorry, but... go wait in the kitchen. Dad'll be right there."
"...Okay."
With that short reply, the presence at the door vanished.
"Hah......"
I sank to the bathroom floor right then and there. My legs had given out. My cock was still hard. Looking at that thing jutting out of my pajamas, a wave of self-loathing washed over me.
Just now... I'd done the two things a father must never do to his daughter. Lusting after her. Yelling at her. I'd broken both of those rules completely.
I... am disqualified as a father.
Min-ah's face went ashen as she left the master bedroom and headed for the kitchen.
She'd been so sure. The way she'd bent over with her legs straight, pretending to look for the sesame seeds — that had been, quite obviously, a seduction. Twenty years old. She'd wanted to show her father this ass — unblemished, bright, soft, yet taut and springy. She'd tried to seduce Eun-hyeok with a body far more complete than the one he'd last bathed for her.
She'd gotten aroused. Wetness had leaked from Min-ah's sex, soaking into her T-back, outlining the shape of her pussy in shameless, vivid detail. Any other parent would have jumped up and lost their mind — but Eun-hyeok, Min-ah's father, wouldn't be able to say a word. Eun-hyeok had walked right into the trap Min-ah had dug.
The long, long buildup she'd been digging since middle school, all the way until now. And the trigger — what happened at the amusement park. All that long, patient gaslighting had finally borne fruit.
Eun-hyeok hadn't been able to say a word, his face turning red. Something had started to bulge at his groin. Using the little mirror she'd prepared, Min-ah had watched everything while pretending to search for the sesame seeds.
Success. This was definitely a success. Min-ah had been certain.
Min-ah had followed Eun-hyeok as he fled to the bathroom. One more step forward. If she could just take one more step...... she could see the hope of claiming her father for herself.
But what came back was Eun-hyeok's shout.
That's right. Min-ah had failed.
In that instant, the shaman's words came back to her.
Those words began to fill Min-ah's mind.