Re: INCEST Attraction to dad?
Hell no.
Think of him as NYPD Blues' Andy Sipowicz' less successful cousin. I did see him naked a few times, and fragmented early memory of taking a bath with him at 2-3yo, so other than knowing he's uncut (jealous!), and was moderately hairier than I am now, I don't know much else. Mom once started a letter to some magazine that never left her notebook, described him as "below average" hard, which she didn't have that much comparison outside a rare porno.
(One ex-classmate/friend while dad was in Germany; I think four others, post-divorce? That letter would have been after the first post-divorce boyfriend, whom she mentioned as "above average"? He was a cocky SOB gambler. Also, not counting hooking up again with the now-widowed guy she was with before they married. He was the only guy we liked of the boyfriends. He was a Ginger Chub, bit of a hound dog, total redneck.)
I think there was nothing because he was an abusive asshole, especially towards me. One of the few times he wasn't, we would wrestle in their bed while watching wrestling on Sunday mornings. On a few occasions, he would get me in a leglock, then shake his legs. I was too young then to understand it, but somehow knew this was somehow sexual in nature and freed myself from his leg grip. Mom caught him doing it, gave him a stern look, and that was the end of any wrestling after that. I still have no idea what he was up to, even now?
I'm surprised he even found someone after the divorce, let alone she willingly married him. ugh.
Mom's dad, however, I had a few dreams about him in my tween/puberty years, which he had already passed at 60 a few years before, following "routine surgery", but a few family stories made more sense in this context. I guess average build for someone his age in the 1970s? A bit of a beer belly, but I wouldn't call him a Bear, but a few light wisps on his chest; and he still had some dark auburn hair my aunt inherited and gave to her kids over their Italian father's looks. (Saw the only male cousin for first time in years at our grandmother's funeral, he was spitting image of grandpa. Mom almost did a spit take.) Anyway, one dream was based off the last time he took us out fishing on river, but no (frigid) grandmother or younger sister along, just the two of us. They had a camper and johnboat, and things just progressed in the dream as they would for any alcoholic man starved for attention and getting to lay with a young body beside him and no interruptions. I don't think we had a vcr at that point, so the only context I had at that age was the livestock and a handful of dad's Penthouse borrowed from the "library" at his work, but grandpa had his way with me in the dream and I loved it, because it made him happy. I don't exactly know what he did in WW2, or why his father left when he was young, but there was something broken inside of him that his drinking was never going to fix.