1 comments/ 19839 views/ 23 favorites Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 01 By: leBonhomme Catherine wondered if Marlie's parents would also invite her to spend the Easter break with them. Marlie, Marie-Louise, was her girlfriend in her Swiss finishing school and had introduced her to the pleasures two girls could enjoy. During their Christmas break, she had also included her in what she and her brother, Pierre, enjoyed. Then her father wrote that he would visit her for the Easter break and that they could go skiing or whatever she suggested. His letter started as always: "Dear Kitten," his pet name for her. She was surprised by his mentioning skiing, since she didn't know that he could. She couldn't. Did they both want to try? She knew that he was comfortably well off, why her prep school and her being in Switzerland were no problem for him, also her going to the college of her choice the next year. She replied that she didn't think skiing was a good idea, then remembered her course on European Art and suggested that they spend the week in Florence. He replied that that was better idea, admitting that he had only suggested skiing because she was in Switzerland. A couple of letters later, he wrote that he had reserved two rooms in a hotel in Florence and that they could take the train from Geneva. He would pick her up on Maundy Thursday, returning her to the school the Sunday after Easter. Catherine was delighted, except for the fact that she had to turn down Marlie's parents' invitation, but had learned that Marlie's brother, Pierre, wouldn't be there, since he had had leave before. She sighed with a soft moan, remembering how the three of them had spent the nights together. She liked her father, despite her parents having separated and divorced, only visiting him for a couple of days of her prep school breaks. In the days before their Easter break, she and Marlie tried to make up for what Marlie would miss back home, just alone. Her father arrived and met Marlie, when she bid Catherine farewell with their usual cheek kisses. He was a little surprised at how they embraced, not holding their hips back, like he had seen other women rub cheeks. He knew that Catherine had spent her Christmas break with her family. They set off. Catherine mentioned that Marlie was her best friend at the school, and he remarked that she seemed nice. She agreed that she was, her family too, and changed the subject, asking if he had plans for what they would see in Florence. He did, the usual from tourist information, which agreed with what she had learned. They were silent for most of the rest of the trip. They arrived and took a cab to their hotel. When she saw that it was a four star hotel, she remarked: "Looks expensive; do we need two room? I mean, we share your bathroom, when I visit you." He shrugged and replied: "It is, but for you. But you're right, if you feel like that." She nodded. At the desk, he asked if they could change his reservation for a single room with twin beds. The receptionist didn't bat an eye about their sharing a room, agreeing and saying that the hotel had a waiting list for rooms. Catherine was pleased that her suggestion could save her father the price of two rooms, and he also seemed pleased. They found the room and unpacked and went to dinner, chatting about her school and plans for college. After a walk around the town, seeing the cathedral and other sights, Michelangelo's David. Her father enjoyed her commenting that she had learned that his hands were really too large, wondering himself that his cock and balls seemed too small, but that obviously wasn't something her course would have mentioned. They returned to their hotel and got ready for bed, discreetly, each using the bathroom in turn and changing to their nightwear there. They said good night, and she thanked him for a nice day, and he thanked her for her company. In the morning, she was awakened by his saying: "Good morning, Kitten. Thought jet lag would let me sleep longer. It didn't." "Oh, right, we're in Florence. Good morning, Daddy." "It was your idea that we sl ... - that we share a room." "Why not? You want to go first?" "Unless you have to? I have to shave." "Then I will - try to hurry." "No hurry - I think." Catherine snorted softly, remembering being with Pierre and Marlie and their having to, and replied: "I will, anyway," and got up and went in the bathroom. After she had used the toilet, she remembered that she had to change and returned to the room, giving her father an apologetic smile as she found enough to put on. She returned a couple of minutes later in Bermuda shorts and pulling a polo shirt down. "Tried to hurry," she remarked with a smile, and watched him fling back his covers and disappear. While he was in the bathroom, she recalled his waking her with her nickname, Kitten. She smirked; she and Marlie had given it new meaning, wondering if he had thought of that, then recalling that he had usually stopped using it when her mother was around. Had she said something about his using it, thinking about what she and Marlie did? She suddenly recognized that he didn't have anything else to wear and called, asking what she could bring him. He laughed so that she could hear and told her to find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for him, then adding: "If that isn't too little for you." She grinned to herself and replied: "If you don't think so," and found what he had asked for and opened the door and tossed them in the bathroom. He thanked her through the unlatched door. She grinned again, liking their less formal situation. She snorted, wondering if she could ask him about his nickname for her. Why not? She could ask him about his not using it; that didn't have to suggest what she was thinking. She had a couple of minutes to think about that, enjoying the idea. He returned, looking a little embarrassed in just his underwear, quickly turning from her to find his trousers. When he turned back to her, zipping them up, he smiled wry and said: "Maybe I should have asked for them too." "We were just too ... well, too prudish before, well, not quite like this in your place." "Just as well, Kitten." He had used his nickname again. She smiled and replied: "I like your calling me that, since I can remember." "Your Mom didn't." "Yeah, I wondered about that. Then you didn't, when she was around." "Usually." "Um-hmm, and sometimes she made a face or said something." "Um-hmm. You don't know why?" "Not until I was here." "You do?" "Now, of course, the same in French." "Really? Didn't know that." He had put on a shirt and was tucking it in, unselfconsciously opening his trousers to do so. Catherine nodded, liking how the conversation was going, making it easier for her to ask: "Why not, when, when did Mom say she didn't like it?" "Hmm? Guess you were eleven or twelve. ... Why? Guess you can imagine why." "You think she thought of that?" "I didn't ask her." "You did?" He was blushing as he replied: "Not before she didn't want me to use it," and zipped up his pants. Catherine smiled sweetly and said: "I still don't mind. Hmm? After Marlie told me the French, and I told her about "kitten," we laughed and decided to call them that." "You and Marlie?! You talk about that?!" "Girl talk," she replied, realizing that she had suggested more than she had intended. "You do?" he asked, with a very surprised expression." "Sometimes," she answered, blushing. "Just sometimes?" Catherine nodded, blushing more deeply. Her father took a deep breath and asked: "Just talked about them?" Catherine shook her head. She couldn't blush more. He asked: "Not just talk about them? She shook her head again. He looked at her with wide eyes and said: "I thought finishing schools were about getting girls ready for marriage." "They are, but there are no boys around," Catherine heard herself replying." "Oh?!" he said, then added: "But I hope you still like them." "Um-hmm, her brother." He looked relieved for a moment, but then even more surprised, shocked, and asked: "You ... with him?!" She nodded again and rubbed her flushed cheeks. He started to say something, then didn't. Catherine realized that he was just thinking about her having slept with Pierre, not imagining that Marlie did too. He had a worried expression and murmured: "I hope, uh, that you were 'careful'." She nodded, her blush fading, and replied: "Oh, it was all right. She had got the pill for me with her prescription." "She has the pill? Well, I guess that was a good idea. Did she, uh, know you were going to - with him?" "Hmmm? Now, I guess maybe she was thinking it would happen." "Hmm!" he snorted sharply and then said: "Well, I guess it would have happened sometime, somewhere. My little Kitten has grown up." She nodded with a slight smile and murmured: "You didn't want me just to do it with her." "You did with her?! Do, with her?!" he asked with a shocked expression. She realized that he hadn't understood what she had suggested before and wanted to kick herself for having been so direct. Now he did understand. With red cheeks, she nodded, not looking at him, not seeing him nod with a funny expression. When she ventured to look at him, he nodded and then said: "We'd better go to breakfast." They did and spent a busy day sightseeing. During the day, after the first time he addressed her as Kitten, he usually caught himself: "Ki ... Cathy." When he did say "Kitten," too late to correct himself, she smiled sweetly, and he looked slightly abashed. When that happened again, he just shrugged with a smile. After that time, he managed to avoid addressing her, until he had to call her back from stepping into traffic, calling "Watch out, Kitten!" She did, and they exchanged smiles. They had dinner with a bottle of wine. When the waiter insisted that they have a grappa with the bill, they did and returned to their hotel in a good mood. They started to get undressed together. Her father had taken off his trousers, when they recognized that they were both going to be in just their underwear. "Better go now," she remarked and disappeared in the bathroom. He nodded with a relieved expression. She hadn't closed the door completely. When he heard her flush, he called: "Hurry, you can wash later." She returned, giving him an impish smile as he hurried in the bathroom, leaving the door partly open. When she heard him going in the toilet, she smiled, remembering watching Pierre. She was about to take off her blouse, then found her shorty nightgown and drew it over her head to cover herself, while she finished unbuttoning it. When he flushed, she called that he could wash first and took off her blouse and bra under her shorty. She put her arms through it and took off her skirt. Before she hung it up, she checked in the mirror that her shorty covered her panties, hearing her father brushing his teeth. When he returned, he gave her an amused smile and said: "You wore Pajamas last night." "Didn't want you to come back and see me half naked." "Good idea." She returned to the bathroom. When she returned, she was slightly surprised that he was sitting on his bed, not yet in it, as she had expected. She was more surprised, when he said: "I wasn't going to ask, but where was Marlie, when you ... and him ...? She really expected you to?" Catherine blushed, then shrugged, and replied: "I guess so, now. I slept in her room, in her older sister's bed. You really want to know?" He nodded. She realized that her nipples had popped out, not venturing a glance down to see if he could see them. She took a deep breath and said: "Well, you already know about us, she and me. I shouldn't tell you this, but the night before he arrived, she told me that she did with him and that she hoped I would like him, and ..." "She did with him, her brother?!" She nodded, blushing again. He shook his head with a bewildered expression and asked again: "She did?" "Um-hmm, surprised me too, and hoped he would like me." "Like that?! Don't have to ask what you did before he came home." She shook her head with a little smile. He shook his with a shrug and murmured: "I really shouldn't have asked." She nodded with a chuckle. Then he chuckled with a wry smile, and then they both began to laugh. When they had caught their breath, she grinned and said: "But you did. I don't mind - now - not quite so embarrassing any more." "At least it was. ... Uh, ...?" He didn't start his apparent question. She smirked slightly and suggested: "You want to ask something else." Her father had a slightly embarrassed expression and nodded. She shrugged, after a moment adding: "Anything you want - I think." "I really shouldn't, but if you say so; do you really like to do it with her? Oh, of course, you do, stupid question." She nodded with an unblushing smile and agreed: "Of course, else we wouldn't." "Stupid question; of course you do." "Um-hmm. Didn't you and Mom?" He nodded with a surprised expression, then murmured: "I did. Oh, she let me, liked it, but then, well, always wanted to do something else." "We can't do 'something else', if that's what you mean," she replied with a shrug. He nodded again and then murmured: "Of course not. Hope it's good." "It is! He did it just as good, but girls know just what it's like for each other; that's real good." "Never thought of that," he muttered, giving her a wry smile. "You asked, now you know," she replied with conciliatory smile. He nodded again and murmured: "Of course, he did it too. Oooh? With both of you?" "Of course. Hm-hmm! Not at once." Her father chuckled with a nod and grin, but then asked: "But all three of you together?" "After the first night. I went to his room, while they did." "And then you did?" "Not that, not that night, just he did." "'Not that'? You did 'that'?" Catherine nodded with a mildly pleased smile. Her father looked very surprised again and repeated his question: "You did? Really?!" She nodded again and replied: "She had told me he liked it and that she liked to do it." "So you really did, too?" "Didn't Mom? He liked it so much, and then I did." "Hmm? She didn't, certainly didn't 'like it so much', if you mean what I think. But you did?" "Pity, that she didn't." He nodded with frown, then murmured: "But you did?" "Um-hmm. Oh, I wasn't sure I wanted to, but she told me to think of its tasting like a strange cheese that one doesn't like the first time. The French have so many funny tasting, soft cheeses." He chuckled, nodding with a grin. She also grinned with superior expression and added: "So I did, tasted strange, of course, but if one can learn to like those cheeses, ..." "Hmmm? Oh my! Don't know how we got on this subject." "You asked." "Guess I did, but I didn't know I was going to get the whole story, story about my Kitten's growing up. Maybe we should have had separate rooms." "I like that we don't. "I do too, really, Just very surprised by it all, that you have told me." "Kind of nice telling you, wanting you know that your Kitten has grown up." "Hmm? My Kitten? Your kitten!" They both snickered, grinning with nods, and agreed to try to sleep, saying good night and wishing each other sweet dreams, not without chuckling softly. Catherine had a dream. She recognized that it was something she had done with Marlie's brother, but somehow she knew that it wasn't with him, but an older man, one she somehow knew, but couldn't identify. She woke up with her hand in her crotch, her fingers where she had been dreaming something was happening. It was a moment or two before she remembered where she was. Disappointed, she reluctantly pulled hand hand up and tried to go back to sleep, not without recalling the long conversation with her father. She finally dozed off. In the morning, they exchanged wry smirks when they got up. They took turns using the toilet and then took turns taking a shower. When they were dressed, about to go to breakfast, her father smiled wryly and said: "I really should try not to call you Kitten now." "If you don't want to, but I don't mind, kind of like it, whatever you happen to be thinking." He snorted with another wry smile and replied: "Why I shouldn't." That day they took a long, guided walking tour of Florence. He was pretty good about calling her Cathy, using her name more often than he really had to. But when he really needed to address her, a few times it slipped out as "Ki-Cathy," and she gave him grin, raising her cheeks. After the first time like that, he chuckled with a nod. She almost took his hand once, when they brushed against each other. They brushed a few more times, standing closer together than they had to. When they were deciding where to have dinner, he did say "Kitten" to her. She smiled and said that he hadn't want to say it. He just nodded with smile and replied that he had. She wondered if he just meant that he had, or meant that he had wanted to. They found a table in restaurant crowded with tourists for the Easter weekend and had dinner, talking about what they had seen during the day. When he saw a man looking at them and smiling with slight nod, he smiled at her and whispered: "A man over there must think you're good looking, that I'm lucky to be with you." She looked in the direction of her father's nod, and saw the man smile and nod again. She returned his smile and then smiled at her father and replied: "Aren't you? I am." "Me too," he agreed with a pleased smile. Catherine thought that if this had been a movie, he should have reached over and held her hand, but he didn't. She was tempted to say something about her being his little kitten, but also didn't. After dinner, they agreed to have a drink in the hotel bar and then go to bed early, so that they could try to catch the early mass in the cathedral. In the bar, they got a couple more glances. Catherine didn't think she was really good looking, that the glances suggested that people assumed her father was with a much younger girlfriend, then wondering if he was having the same thought. She smiled at him sweetly and whispered: "Let's tease them," and grasped his hand." He nodded and clasped her hand, and they raised their glasses and drank, more smirking than smiling at each other. An older man who had glanced at them before - obviously there with his wife - nodded with a knowing expression. She noticed and whispered: "He thinks I'm your kitten." "Oooh, shouldn't have said that," he murmured, but squeezed her hand, then released it. She frowned, but with a smile, and he smiled. They finished their drinks and went to their room. They both wanted to use the toilet and did, before they started to undress. He unhesitatingly took off his trousers and shirt. She was unbuttoning her shirtwaist dress. All the buttons were undone, but it was still closed over her bra. He glanced at her and said: "Better go wash before my supposed kitten takes off her dress." They both chuckled softly, nodding, and he went in the bathroom. She pulled her dress open and off her shoulders and stepped out of it. She hung it up, seeing herself in the mirror in just her bra and panties. She grinned at herself, thinking that maybe her face wasn't so pretty, but that her figure was nice. Would she dare to let him see her like that, or did she have to put on her shorty again? Oh, she was already reaching back to unhook her bra; she had to find her shorty first. She did. As she then unhooked her bra, she suddenly found herself saying: "We could." Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 01 What had she said? What had she thought they could? What was she suggesting? Her thighs had clamped together; she knew. "We could do what?!" he asked, his surprised face at the open door. She was blushing, felt that she was flushing down to her aroused nipples. She just repeated: "We could." "What?!" "Like with her brother," she replied softly, not looking at him. "Wha ...?! We can't! We won't!" She had said it, too late to backtrack, she thought, and murmured: "Why not? They do." "That doesn't mean we can. ... Is that why you wanted us to ... wanted us to share a room?" She turned to him, feeling that her blush was fading, but knowing that her nipples were still very erect. She shook her head and replied: "Not then and not even after all our talk last night, but why not, if you were trying all day not to mention my kitten. You had to be thinking about it, and I was. So why not? I want to. You don't have to do anything." "Just let you! We can't." "If I want to, and you were disappointed that Mom didn't want to?" "Leave her out of this. We shouldn't." She was unhooking her bra under her shorty as she replied: "If I want to. I'm old enough, and you're not taking advantage of me; just two people doing something that is very nice for both of them." "We're not 'just two people'." "No, better. I want to, so why shouldn't you let me?" "Because I'm your father." It felt like her nipples were pushing her loosened bra out. She replied: "The nicest man a girl could want to give pleasure to." "Stop it! Shut up! I don't want to hear that." "But it's true." "I don't care. We shouldn't." She had slipped her bra off her shoulders. It slid down her arms. She was a little embarrassed at the realization that he must be able to see her aroused nipples poking through her shorty, but continued: "I think we should, the nicest thing we can do together." "You said I didn't have to do anything." "If you don't want to; just let me. I want to. ... If the people in the bar assumed that we do?" "That doesn't mean anything." "Just that they think it is nice that girl could want to be with a man her father's age. I do." "But not with her father." "Especially with him, like I want to - no surrogate father figure. You wouldn't want that." "I sure wouldn't," her father admitted softly, but then replied: "Still, we shouldn't." "I want to, I will," she replied, looking at him with the pleading expression she had used as a child to get his acquiescence, then adding in almost sorrowful tone: "Just let me; you have to." Her father sighed. She saw his eyes drop down to her aroused nipples. He sighed again with a soft moan, and she saw that his cock apparent in his shorts. He murmured: "I can't escape." "No, you can't," she agreed with an intense, aroused expression. "You want to wash?" he asked. She shook her head and watched him approach his bed in his shorts and t-shirt. He flung back his covers and turned off the lights from the panel by his bed. In the dark, she stripped down her panties, stepping out of them, as she found her way to his bed and then felt her way between his legs. When he felt where she was, he spread them, letting her settle between them. When her hand explored, it discovered that his cock was already full, caught down in his boxer shorts. He hummed. Her hands found the snaps at the waistband of his shorts. When she unsnapped them, he let her pull them down. She was a little surprised that he moved his legs to let her take them completely off and that he had given her um-hmm. Her hand found his cock again, now standing up over his balls, which her other hand found. He moaned. Yes, she thought, now he wanted her to, but her hand couldn't move the skin on his cock like it had on Pierre's, but he moaned again. That didn't matter; he wanted her now to lick and suck his cock - better than her Mom ever had. Pity that she hadn't known about strange tasting French cheeses, pity for both her parents. But she did know. Would his taste just like Pierre's had? She lowered her head and licked his cock. He moaned deeply. Yes, he really wanted her to, was resigned to letting her to. Her lips slid down around its head, and he moaned again. She nodded and licked. It was so nice and firm, and so good to have a cock in her mouth again. Maybe she did enjoy a cock more than a pussy. After just being able to lick Marlie's for three months, maybe it was just the pleasure of again having a cock. She loved it, and his moans confirmed that he was loving what she was doing. Oooh, that tasted good, but that wasn't his strange cheese. She also fondled his balls. He liked that too, but his sack was already drawing up, sooner than she wanted it to, and sooner than Pierre's had, but he had already come the time she was remembering. She sucked and licked, holding her father's tight sack. No, she couldn't venture to rub where her fingers had rubbed Pierre, but her father's cock surged, and her fingers behind his tight sack felt the very base of his cock surge. He moaned louder. Yes, he wanted her to make him spurt in her mouth, like his wife never did, but she - his daughter - wanted him to! She was doing the nicest thing a girl could do for her father! And she was loving it! He was moaning, and his hips twitched, then after a few seconds again She wanted them to twitch faster and thrust his cock deeper in her mouth - fuck in her mouth. Did she want him to really fuck her? His cock in her pussy, in her kitten, for him to fuck his Kitten?! His hips were twitching faster. She grasped it to keep it from going too deep, recognizing that it didn't have the loose skin that had let Pierre's move in her hand. She heard him groan, and his hips began to rock as harder. She moaned in anticipation, thinking: let me have it, taste it! That her Mom hadn't wanted that! Her father grunted. She couldn't taste his first spurt, feeling it hit deep in her throat, making her gulp, but then she tasted his following spurts. Did they taste different from Pierre's? If they did, she couldn't tell after so long, but she loved them - her father's - and that he had let her taste them after their long argument. He was still moaning. How could he not have wanted her to suck his cock, and better than the little her mother had?! She wanted to make him moan by licking the back of his cock, as she savored his semen. Served him right for arguing so long against letting her do it. If her mother never had, he should learn that that was part of it. He moaned and pushed her head back and muttered: "Oh fuck! That was good! ... Shit, shouldn't have said that." "But I wanted you to, something like that," she replied, swallowing, and then diving up on him, planting a kiss on his mouth. When her tongue rubbed his lips, his responded and let hers probe in his mouth. He chuckled softly, as his tongue caressed hers. When their tongues and lips separated, he hummed and murmured: "You really wanted to." "Um-hmm. Didn't you really want me to?" "Don't ask; I let you." "Just a strange, French cheese? I liked it." "Hmm! Tell Marlie I appreciate her explanation. ... No, you'd better not, or she would know what we've been done." Catherine snorted and replied: "Too late; she was already hoping we would," "Here, now? She wanted us to?" "Why not, since they do?" "And she hoped that I would want to?" "Didn't you?" "Don't ask! More than I wanted to admit." "Mmmm! As good as I wanted, and wanted you to. Want to do it to me?" She was already drawing her knees up to move up over him. He sighed and murmured: "You want me to." "Um-hmm," she agreed, and rose up to move her hips over his face. He grasped her ass, drawing her hips closer to his face. She hummed, letting him. He murmured: "You said I didn't have to do anything." "Um-hmm, but if you want to, I want you to." "So do I, now, always loved to, but never like this." "Mmmm! Hope you do," she replied, as his hands guided her hips down on his face. She felt his tongue explore and moaned with a nod, and then moaned more emphatically, when his tongue found where she wanted to feel it most. When he also moaned, she thought: yes, he did love to do it and knew how. Oh yes, he knew how! "Uhmmm! Like that!" she encouraged him and rocked her hips. He moaned in response, and his tongue licked. She held her breasts through the thin cloth of her shorty and aroused her stiff nipples. Oooh! His hands were sliding up from her ass under her shorty, up her back and around her sides and up under hers. She let go of her breasts, and his hands found them. She moaned and clasped her hands over his. How could her mother not have wanted to let him finish what he was doing, when he did it so good and knew she wanted her nipples squeezed, like he was doing? And he wanted to taste her, his tongue probing in her wet hole. They both moaned. He loved that too! "Oooh! Uhm-hmmm! Was his tongue longer than Marlie's or her brother's? How could he have insisted that they not do anything, when he did it so good, loved to do it, and knew that she wanted his tongue back there again? If her mom hadn't let him make her come this way, did he know what was going to happen, when she did? He was going to make her. She moaned, feeling her pending orgasm, pulsing moans, as her hips twitched. "Yes! Like that!" she blurted out, grinding her pussy on his mouth and feeling him nod, as he sucked and licked. She forgot that it was her father who was about to give her an orgasm, only aware that she was going to have one, a big one, as good as it could be this way. God, it was going to be good! She was coming, gasping with uncontrolled whimpering moans! It was so good! Had been so good! Her hips rocked forward to let his tongue find her so wet hole and taste her pussy juice. It did, and she heard him moan. Now really fuck, she thought and began to move back down his body. Yes, his cock was stiff, brushing her ass. She raised her hips and reached back between her legs to find it. "We shouldn't." She recognized her father's voice with surprise. "It wants to. I want to," she murmured, grasping his cock. "We shouldn't," he repeated, but didn't do anything to stop her rubbing the head of his cock between her pussy lips and find her opening. She sank down on it with a long moan, and he moaned, but then said it again in a resigned tone: "We shouldn't." "We want to," she murmured, feeling his cock twitch in her pussy and it contract. She moaned, and his cock twitched again, and he moaned and murmured: "God, you're tight!" She sat up, and they both moaned again, as her pussy pulled his cock back and a little deeper in her tight pussy, that clutched his cock even tighter. It surged, and they both moaned. "Oh fuck!" he almost whispered with a resigned sigh. She nodded in the dark and rocked her hips. It was so good to have a cock in her pussy again, to feel it twitch and her pussy clasp it - her father's cock! Maybe they shouldn't, but they were, and he was just moaning, accepting that they were, enjoying it. His moans and twitching cock confirmed that. She churned her hips on his cock, and his moan was almost a groan. She moaned; she was making it so good for him - and for herself! She found his hands and drew them back up under her shorty again. His fingers immediately found her aroused nipples. She moaned. Yes, he wanted to help, wanted them to fuck. How long could he, could she stand her just churning her hips on his cock? His hips twitched, and his cock surged in her pussy. How long could she stand it! It felt so good! His hips twitched up again, and after another circle of her hips, again. When that happened a fourth time, she couldn't stand it any longer and dropped down over him. His hands slid off her aroused breasts. She moaned and demanded softly: "Fuck me!" Good Daddy, he did, his hands grasping her ass, as his hips rocked up. She raised hers, and they fucked, their hips and stomachs slapping together, as they both moaned, feeling his cock plunging in and out her tight pussy. She was going to come again! Come, Daddy, make me come and come with me! They were both gasping from their exertion and the increasingly arousing sensations in her clutching pussy. Her pussy gushed, and he grunted and groaned, as their stomachs slapped together a few more times, now with wet sounds. She collapsed on him, and their stomachs heaved against each other with deep breaths. When she had recovered a little, she straightened out her legs, and his cock slipped out of her pussy. They lay there for a minute or two until their breathing returned to normal. His hands were still on her ass. They fondled, and then he murmured: "We shouldn't have done that, but it is too late now to say that again." "Much too late," she agreed cheerfully. "Um-hmm," he conceded, letting his hands squeeze the round cheeks of her ass. They lay there a while longer, then she murmured: "Nice, but I've got to go." "Hm-hmm! You come and you go." "Um-hmm, at the same place, but coming is lot better." "And almost as wet. It sure was, but now I have to go, too." He found the panel with the light switches. When he turned on the ceiling light, he immediately turned it off again and tried another switch. The light by the closet at the entrance came on. She got up, and he followed her to the bathroom. She turned on the light and sat on the toilet, smiling slightly at him with a shrug. He was standing in the doorway. She shuddered and began to go, only then looking down at his cock, seeing it for the first. He saw her eyes drop and murmured: "Too late now to say anything." "Um-hmm," she agreed and stood up without wiping or flushing. Then she gave him her impish smile and said: "Now you can see me too," and drew her shorty up and over her head and stood smiling at him, then glancing down almost proudly at her bare breasts. He hummed with smile and muttered: "Always wanted to, since you were sixteen." "When you let me have the bikini? You should have told me; I might have let you, wanted someone to see them." "Good thing I didn't. He took off his t-shirt and turned to the toilet, and she found her washcloth and began to use it. He flushed and watched her washing her pussy, after a moment saying softly: "You look good from behind, too." She smiled at him in the mirror and finished, leaving the washcloth in the basin and grabbing a towel. As he began to wash, she said cheerfully: "They were almost as big back then, maybe grew a little when I started taking the pill. Marlie said hers did, but they're still smaller than mine." She looked down at her nipples and circled one with her finger, and then murmured: "You've got to suck them next time; that feels so good. We both like that, like to suck them too." "Hmm? I guess you would. Like what else you do, knowing how it's feel for each other." "That too," she agreed, liking that he had just shown understanding for what she and Marlie did. They were silent until he had dried himself, and they returned to the room, where he said: "You'd better sleep in your bed. The room girl doesn't have to really know what we did." "But you too, then." "Don't think I should." "Then I'll just come and get in yours with you." "Oh well, I guess you would," he acquiesced with a shrug. She grinned and got in her bed, holding up the covers for him to join her. He did, turning off the light as she put her arm around him. When he put his around her, she murmured: "That was so good, just so good; thank you for letting me." "It was, I'll admit. You made it difficult for me to refuse." "May I kiss you good night, on the lips?" "Hmm? You already did; I guess we can, but just a good night kiss." It was a little more than that. Then he urged her to turn over and curled up behind her with his arm around her. She moved his hand up on her breast, and he held it. After an exchange of um-hmms, they were silent and fell asleep. She woke up when his fingers moved on her breast, and felt something between her thighs. It moved slightly in the space below her pussy. Her "kitten," she thought, smiling to herself at the thought that now it was their kitten. Between her thighs, that must be his cock, all big and stiff? It moved slightly again, and she assumed that he must be awake. Was it now also her cock, their cock, if it was their kitten? When it moved again, she thought it wanted to be in her/their/its kitten. Wouldn't that be nice, the nicest way to start the day? Her/their kitten already liked the idea, liked it even better the more she thought about. When it moved again, she slid her hand down. Her finger had to reach back between her thighs to find it, but there it was, the firm head of his cock, just at the back of her pussy. It moved again, more than before. Why didn't he say something? Too shy to admit that he wanted to fuck her again? But he must want to, his cock all stiff and right there. It only needed a little help to find where they both wanted it to be. When she pressed it up, it moved again. Just a little more, and if she rocked her hips back, she could press it in the mouth of her now aroused pussy. It took a little more effort than she had expected, but then the head of his cock was caught in her hole. She hummed, pleased with her success, but then was startled to hear him blurt: "What the f...?" "You wanted to. At least, it wanted to." She rocked her hips slight, her fingers still there to make sure his cock didn't slip out. He snorted and replied: "And you wanted to, obviously." "Since it was there and wanted to. Seemed the right thing to do, just help it." "Hmm! I guess you could think that." "Nicest way to start the day," she suggested, rocking her hips again. "Or finish the night," he replied, squeezing her breast and moving down the bed a little to push his cock more firmly in her pussy. She hummed and clasped her hand on his, the one that now didn't need to help his cock. She rocked her hips back again, and he moved further curling his hips up behind hers, his cock now very comfortably deeper in her pussy. She squeezed it, and it twitched. Her father hummed and asked: "You can do that?" She did it again with a nod, He chuckled and said: "Now I'm glad you had such a good time in Paris." "Not more than I am." "I'm not sure," he murmured and rocked his hips, and they both chuckle with a hum. He moved his shoulders and trunk further back and urged to roll on her back. As she did, and her leg rested his, he slid it over her other leg and drew it up, curling his hips as far up behind hers as they could, pushing his cock even deeper in her pussy. She moaned and turned her head, looking at him with sigh and asked: "Like this?" "Um-hmm." "In 'our' kitten, mine and yours." "If you like it that way. Guess I don't have to worry about not calling you Kitten now." "No," she agreed with pleased smile. He fucked gently and fondled her nipple, and she moaned softly with a little smile. After a few moments, she murmured: "We could do this forever; it's so good." "Um-hmm, it is, but maybe not forever." "But as long as we want to." "Something like that," he agreed, just gently moving his cock in her. She more hummed than moaned at the continuing, not too arousing sensations in her pussy and on her nipple. Then she asked: "Oh, can you suck the other one this way?" "Like Marlie does?" he replied with a chuckle "Or her brother did." "And I want to," he rejoined, curling his head and shoulders down over her. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 01 She moaned with sigh, as his tongue teased her nipple, and then his lips held it, nibbling. She drew the hand between them up and held her breast, squeezing it and pressing her nipple in his mouth, between his teeth. They held its tip and pulled on it, making her moan again. His mouth opened and pressed down around her nipple, sucking, his teeth scratching the goose bumps around it. She moaned louder. His fingers were trying to treat her other nipple the same way, both of them being aroused. But he had forgotten to fuck. Her pussy wanted something too. Her other hand slid over her thigh onto her pubic hair, and her fingers crept down to the front of her pussy. Yes, there, between her pussy lips. Would he mind if she helped herself, she wondered, recalling that Pierre hadn't, but his sister had already done that with him. She moaned at the arousal from two hands and a mouth - and from his cock! Her pussy had clutched it again, reminding him to fuck. It was being so good! He was doing everything he could to arouse her, and she was too! No, they couldn't do this forever, and she was beginning to think that "as long as they want to" wasn't going to be as long as she had been thinking it would be. She wanted him to fuck her harder, harder than he could and still suck her nipple, as good as that felt. "Just fuck," she murmured. He nodded, giving her nipple a final, almost painful suck and letting it pop out of his mouth. It was going to be sore, she recognized, but worth it, if he would just fuck her as hard as she wanted. He was starting to - good, and he was also moaning - but his hand was sliding down her stomach. That was a good idea if his, but her fingers were already there, doing what they could, and she knew better what she wanted them to do. At least, he knew that her pussy wanted that too. He gave a soft, surprised snort, when his hand found that her was already on her pubic hair. Whatever he thought about her helping herself, his hand slid over hers and his fingers encouraged the movement of hers. That question settled, she thought with a little relief, so now just fuck, not as long as we want, as soon as we can have our orgasms. He moaned and fucked, and she moaned, her rocking hips, trying to make it better, as did her fingers rubbed, not just trying, definitely making it better, as arousing as they could. It was being as good as when Marlie had been licking, while her brother fucked her! She began to whimper, crying in her arousal, and he was groaning as he pumped his cock in her clenching pussy. Soon! Now! She thought, and then felt her pussy flush her pussy juice and heard him grunt, louder than all his groans before. Oh fuck! They had done it again! His hips stilled, as he moaned, taking deep breaths and exhaling with long moans. Hers were the same. After several of them, her fingers extended down, touching his cock. Yes, it was all wet. She shoved her hand further down. And his now soft sack was also all wet. God, her father fucked her good! Because he was her father? No, it had been just as good with Pierre - with Marlie's help - but people weren't supposed to have sex with the help of a third person. She sighed with another moan, then thought: but if it had been that good with her father, it could be again. She didn't want to think about doing it with anyone else. "We shouldn't have done it," he murmured, then adding: "not for that reason, I just shouldn't know how good it is with you, my Kitten," and his hand slid up and hugged her. "As good as it is with you. Maybe we shouldn't know, but we do." "Hmm! At least we don't have to go to confession - thank goodness! - but if we still want get in the cathedral ...? And now I have to go." "Hm-hmm! A lot of coming and going," she replied. "Um-hmm, better than having to go without having come." They chuckled and got up. It was still very early. While she watched him go in the toilet, she chuckled again and said: "How can you have to go, if you haven't first come?" "Sounds like a philosophical question. Maybe if you go first, then you have to come." "I don't want go first; I like to come with you." "Wicked girl! Didn't we?" "We sure did!" They smirked at each other, and he gestured that she could use the toilet. She smirked again and said: "I can go in the shower. Want to take one together?" "And pee on my feet?" he asked with facetious expression, but then stepped in the shower stall. She did. He muttering something about her experience with Marlie and her brother. They probably didn't save any time with their joint shower, washing each other. When their hands washed their sexual parts, they just chuckled, but when she began to wash his ass, her fingers finding his asshole, he gave a very surprised "Uhnn! Like that?! You two do that?" "Feels good, ... doesn't it? When we're doing what we do. Her brother does too, rubbing us there." "Hmm?! Where was I when that started?" "We like it, feels good. You can do it to me." She handed him the small bar of soap. He snorted and soaped his hands. One slid down between the cheeks of her ass. She hummed with a nod, when his fingers rubbed there. He murmured: "No one ever touched me there, well, Mom, when I was in diapers, I guess. You two, three!" "If it feels good? Why we wash them. We've licked them, only when we were already aroused." "Shit! Wrong word, if you wash them, but you do that?" "When it feels good, and we're aroused, maybe a little more." Her father was still rubbing her asshole. A fingertip probed, in it, just lightly. She took it as a silent question and murmured: "Yeah, like that. First time it happened, I didn't realize it till it came out, same, with my own finger." "Shit! Well, close to it, and you do that?" "You don't have to." "I wasn't planning to," he muttered, sliding his fingers back up her crevice. They rinsed and dried themselves. When he glanced at his watch, he said that if they really wanted to go to the mass, he didn't have time to shave. She stroked his cheek and said that he could do that later, and they hurried to get dressed and then to the cathedral. They stood where they could with a better view of the building, more looking at the interior than following the service. When the people started taking communion, she took his hand. He squeezed hers, giving her a smile, and they found their way out of the cathedral, Outside, she expected him to release her hand, but he didn't, and they returned to their hotel, only dropping hands to go through the revolving door. As they waited for the elevator, he murmured: Shave, but I'm going to keep my clothes on." She nodded, but frowned with a smirk. He smiled, and their hands brushed when they entered the elevator. She watched him shave, and they went to breakfast. They discussed what they could do on Easter Sunday, then heard from tourists at the next table that they should hurry to finish their meal and see the procession and "burning of the cart," the major event on Sunday in Florence. With the other tourists, they joined the crowd for the spectacle, thanking them for having told them about it. In the crowd, they grasped hands, almost unconsciously to keep together, then smiling at each other. When it was over, before midday, they agreed still to do what had discussed, going to Fiesole, a few miles above Florence. They returned to the hotel and got their guide book and learned from concierge where they could catch a bus. They were lucky that one soon came. They had lunch with a carafe of wine, studying the guide book, and then saw what it recommended. When they returned to the bus stop, they discovered how lucky they had been before; there were few buses on the holiday, the next one back to Florence towards evening. When they saw tourists in sports clothes starting to walk back to Florence, they agreed that they also could, down hill. It was warm day, but they enjoyed the view. She grab his hand to tell him that it reminded her of some Renaissance paintings she had seen in her class on European art. He smiled, nodding, and replied: "At least you're learning something other than just what you and Marlie do." "And her brother," she added with a grin. He frowned, but she smirked and said: "You thought finishing school was about getting ready for marriage." "Hmm! Didn't know it would include practical experience," he replied, but squeezed her hand. Back in Florence, as they were returning to their hotel, she said that she needed a shower after their long walk in the sun. He agreed that he could also use one. She nodded with a smile and remarked: "You're going to have to take off your clothes." "You too," he replied. "Um-hmmm!" she responded with her most impish grin. He tried to look as though he disapproved, but she smirked and said: "You said that, didn't have to." He nodded with slight smile, and they entered the hotel and went to their room. When she immediately began to strip off her clothes, he said: "You can go first." "I will, that way." "Your shower, I meant." "That's no fun. You want one too." She was unhooking her bra and made demonstration of revealing her breasts. He stared and with a resigned sigh replied: "If you insist." "You can look at our kitten, too; you haven't seen it yet." "All cats are gray in the dark." "Mine, ours is pink, why you have to see it in the light." He chuckled and unbuttoned his shirt, replying with a wry smile: "Just to see if you're right." "You can go in the shower, too," she said with a grin, adding: "But hurry, I really have to." Her thighs twitched, as she waited for him to be down to his shorts. Then she stripped down her panties, letting them fall and tossing them up with one foot, having to take a step or two to catch them, then grinning at him. He smiled and let his boxer shorts drop, doing the same. They grinned at each other and hurried to the shower. Her stream arched out as soon as she stood still. She grinned at him and then looked down at his cock, waiting. After a moment, his stream also arched out, higher, splashing on her thighs. He chuckled and twisted his hips a little. She wanted him to hold his cock and aim higher on her. When he didn't, she did. He chuckled again and asked: "Having fun?" "Um-hmm, all warm." When their streams died down, she still held it, fondling it. He chuckled again and turn on the shower, just the cold water. She squealed and exclaimed: "That's unfair!" "Just what we both need, a cold shower." "Still unfair," she complained and let go of his cock to turn on the hot water. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 02 When their streams died down, she still held his cock, fondling it. He chuckled again and turn on the shower, just the cold water. She squealed and exclaimed: "That's unfair!" "Just what we both need, a cold shower." "Still unfair," she complained and let go of his cock to turn on the hot water. Then they washed each other, enjoying fondling and being fondled with smiles and chuckles. He didn't need her urging to wash her asshole. They dried themselves and returned to the room. She immediately flung back the covers on her bed and lay down on her back with her knees drawn and grinned at him, remarking: "You said you wanted to be sure I was right." "Oh, I believe you," he remarked with a smile. "I've never really seen. Maybe Marlie was just telling me my kitten is pink," she replied, wagging her knees and then letting them flop down. "You don't have to do anything," she added, but fondled her nipples. "I've heard that before, but then you expected me to." "And you did, real good, and said that you didn't mind." "Where's your hand mirror, and you can look." "I don't have one, but if you look, I'll believe you. Stop being difficult." She glanced down at his cock and remarked: "I like your cock. His was different, you know. That was good the first night, when I just did it with my hand, being able to slide the skin up and down, but after that, it didn't matter." "Because you didn't use your hand then?" he asked. "Not like that any more, playing with his balls. I sucked one once. He liked that." "Whose idea was that?" "Just mine. Marlie hadn't done that. She then wanted to, but never got around to doing it." "You three were all together?" "Sure, after the first night, lots of fun. Come, go ahead and look." "And if I do, what will you do?" "Anything you want, maybe suck one of yours." "And if I don't want you to do anything?" "I hope you do, but maybe I'd just do what I want. You liked that last night." He snorted with wry expression, nodding, then replying: "You sure did." "Wasn't it good? I sure thought so. Maybe if you look, you'll change your mind. We both could just do that." "And use your fingers, like in the shower?" "Might happen, probably. You'd like it; the three of us did, do." "What didn't you like?" "Nothing, liked everything." "Hmm! I could have assumed that." "Come on. Just look, and let me. I want to," she remarked, squeezing and twisting her nipples. "You're not going to stop asking, are you?" "No, so come and look," she replied and twitched her knees. He smiled wryly and approached the bed. Was his cock a little longer than before, she wondered, watching it swing. His sack was nice and long. He knelt on the bed next to her shoulder and leaned down over over her, supporting himself on one arm, looking down at pussy. He gently stroked her pubic hair and murmured: "Nice soft, furry kitten, sweet little kitten." Still stroking her hair, he leaned further forward, lowering his head, and murmured: "Maybe you are pink, but I can't really see you, my little kitten." She drew her knees further up on the bed and murmured: "That feels good, your stroking my kitten." "I am going to have to do something to really see it," he murmured and stopped stroking, sliding his fingers down on her firm pussy lips and pressing them apart. She moaned softly and pinched her nipples. He sighed with a hum and murmured: "Yes, pink; I want to see you better, need both hands." He dropped down on his elbows and moved one leg over her. His balls and cock were dangling above her face. She could hardly resist touching them, but waited to see what he would do next. Oooh! She could feel his breath between her legs. It was becoming arousing. Then she felt his fingers draw her pussy lips apart, not touching them where they met. Oooh! And his breath now on her open pussy. It must be already moist. "Mmmm! Pretty pink pussy, he murmured: "very pretty pink pussy, the prettiest one I've ever seen, no, the prettiest one I can imagine; have only seen a couple, but you're such a delightfully attractive young pussy, such a delightful kitten. What do young kittens like? You're not the kind that likes to play with ball of yarn. You look so smooth and sensitive, and lovely pink in your folds." She knew her pussy must be pearling with moisture; hearing him describing it was so arousing. There was only thing hers liked - two - but only one with his face so close to it. Her thighs twitched. What was he going to say next? "Oh, you're all moist, little beads of moisture. Would you like me to lick them up?" She moaned, and her thighs twitched again. "Was that a purr? Is that what you want me to do?" She moaned again. "I think it was, that you want me to." She had to moan again: "Uhn-hn-hnnn!" "I want to, too," he murmured. She felt his tongue lap the length of her pussy, and moaned again, rocking her hips up. "Was that good, what you wanted? I liked it too, tasted good. Some more?" She moaned and realized that her eyes were shut. She opened them, looking straight at his balls and cock, but it was now not dangling. He had aroused himself too, and his tongue was lapping. Why had he made such a fuss about not admitting that he wanted to? Of course, he wanted her to suck his cock now. Or did she want to suck one of his balls first; they were nearer, straight above her mouth? She let go of her nipples and reached up and held the top of his hips. When she urged him to lower them, his knees slid back. She could lick it. He chuckled and let his knees slid further. It was resting on her lips. She opened her mouth and raised her head, closing her lips around it, so she could suck it all the way in her mouth. He hummed and lowered his hips further, and she could close her mouth around it. When she let her head sink down, her almost closed jaws pulled on it, and he lowered his hips the last bit to let her head lie on the bed. She moaned and licked and sucked, and he moaned, forgetting to lick. Was it bigger than Pierre's? It was just the right size to hold in her mouth, about the same size as the head of his cock. She licked and sucked, and he licked again, but then raised his hips slightly. Had he had enough of that, wanted her to suck his cock? One of her hands found it, now more aroused, and his face nodded on her pussy, as he hummed "um-hmm." She pushed his ball out of her mouth with her tongue and drew his cock back. It brushed over her chin, and then she had it - finally! They both moaned. This is what they had both wanted all along, knew they were going to do. She licked, and he licked. Then he grasped her hip pulled it with him, as he rolled back towards the wall. She rolled with him, not losing his cock, and they got comfortable with a thigh under the other's head, just like she and Marlie usually did it - perfect - and also perfect for sucking a cock. He must have done it like this with her mom. With whom else, the "couple" of pussies he had seen? But her mom hadn't like it like she did, and like he did, like they both did. His hand slid up her side and found her breast, squeezing it, almost as though he were confirming her thoughts. She rubbed his ass, and his fingers fondled her nipple. She nodded, sucking a little, and slid her hand all over the cheek of his ass, down to the start of his thigh and then down around it, rubbing behind his balls. Did she dare touch him "there"? She didn't, just rubbing her fingers up through his crevice. Had he chuckled, understanding that her fingers had been tempted to? She concentrated on enjoying sucking and licking his cock, and enjoying his licking her pussy. When he rolled his head back to take a deep breath, she slowed down. He nodded and said: "No hurry; this is being too much fun to want it to finish." She nodded with the most cheerful "uhn-hnn" she could with his cock in her mouth, loving that he had admitted that he was enjoying it as much as she was, and also drew a deep breath through her mouth. When he responded with a surprised "oooh," she realized that the cool air around his cock had surprised him. She let his cock recover, thinking that that was what he had meant by "no hurry," then wondering if he would want to take more pauses. She hadn't noticed when his hand had slide up around her, but now it returned to her breast. He chuckled, arousing her nipple again, then slid it down and played with her other one. "Uhn-hnn!" she responded with a nod and caressed his cock in return. It wasn't as firm as before, but that was good, if he wanted this to take longer. It was being so good, especially his now giving up any pretense that they shouldn't, saying it was fun and playing with her nipples. He hadn't had to do that. She rubbed his ass and sucked gently. He nodded with a hum, squeezing her nipple, then finding the other one again. After arousing it, making her moan and suck more, his hand slid back over her and down to her hip, drawing it closer. "I love your pretty pink pussy, our kitten," he murmured, and then his mouth was back on it. She moaned deeply; he couldn't have said anything nicer - what he had said, and that he had! And she loved his cock, just couldn't say it, but she could show that she did, how much she did! Later, she realized that she had forgotten that it was her father's cock, just that had been good. Otherwise, she might not have let her fingers do what they had done with Pierre. She really began to lick and suck again, and he was clasping her hips to his face with both hands, his other one's having found its way under her waist. Her pussy was being licked and aroused so good, like Marlie did it. Her hand did what it would with her, had done with her brother, creeping down in the cleft of the person with such a suckable cock. Nice! His fingers were also creeping down in hers, so it was all right for hers to do that. They found their goal and rubbed over it. Oh, it felt a little different, but then that was all right, his fingers had found where she wanted to feel it. For a few moments, she just licked and sucked, and he licked and nibbled - there, where she was most sensitive! Her fingertip probed. She heard a surprised moan - but no complaint. It tightened, but then relaxed. Her finger did what it then always had before, probed again. It tightened again, holding it, and she heard another surprised moan, but then his fingertip probed. She tried to make hers relax. If she wanted his finger in there, he must too, and hers probed again. It let it probe deeper. This time, the moan didn't sound surprised, and his finger probed deeper. She moaned with a nod, remembering to suck and lick again. He had also forgotten lick, but then did again. Instinctively, her fingertip wiggled, and then his did. Then he was arousing her too much for her to think about what their fingers were doing, as she tried to give his cock as much pleasure. Was it selfish of her to be more looking forward to tasting him? No, that was going to be the proof of its pleasure, and he was moaning. And he was doing everything good that she wanted, making her moan between sucks. It was almost too much, trying to be at two places at once! At one place, in her mouth, the party reached its climax. He didn't just spurt deep in her throat, with a grunt, the head of his cock was almost there. She gulped. She hadn't had her hand around his cock to prevent that, suddenly realizing that her finger was wiggling deep in him, as he spurted again and again. But his finger was also in her like that! His cock stopped thrusting and spurting, and his hips rocked back a little, letting her swill around and savor what it had given her. He was moaning with long sighs, his head also rocked back a little. Unconsciously, her fingertip moved, and then his did. She nodded with short moan. So aroused, and he wasn't doing anything! "Oh! Uhn! Really, like that, mine too!" he suddenly exclaimed, wiggling his fingertip. That was when she remembered that she was with her father, a little surprised, but still much too aroused to do anything but move her head back and let his cock drop, demanding: "Do it, finish me!" He rolled his face back to her pussy, and his finger moved in her, as his hands pressed her hips closer. She gave a thankful moan, and then many more aroused ones, nodding when his finger moved in her. Hers had slipped out. Her pelvis began to twitch against his lower lip, as he licked and nibbled and sucked. She began to gasp and whimper. It was being so terribly good! She wanted to tell him, but could only gasp and whimper. Anticipation was supposed to 90% of something, but she had had all the anticipation she could stand; she wanted the relief of the "something" - her orgasm! She got it. Her orgasm convulsed her body and flooded his face, It was like an earthquake with aftershocks, a wet first volcanic eruption with minor following ones. Her last thought was to roll back to let her pussy escape from his mouth and tongue. She lay there, almost unconscious for a few moments, her stomach heaving, as she gasped and sighed with long moans. He wiped his wet face, his head still resting on her thigh, like hers was still resting on his. They lay like that for what seemed a long time. When her breath had returned to normal, he rested his hand on her stomach. She nodded slightly. When he rubbed his hand on her, she drew it up on her breast. His fingers held it. A few moments later, after a sigh, she murmured: "A lot more than 'being too much fun'." "Um-hmm, 'a lot more'," he agreed softly, squeezing her breast. She tightened her fingers on the back of his hand, and they were silent again for a few moments, until she chuckled and said brightly: "You know what I have to do." "Um-hmm! You come and go," he replied with a cheerful chuckle. The mood had changed. He turned his hand and took hers and helped her sit up. They smiled at each other. He raised his head and let her get up and then followed her to the bathroom. Instead of turning to the toilet, she grinned at him. He chuckled and said: "I know, you want to wet my feet again." "And wash your face. Doesn't it need it?" "And my, our kitten, and not just my face." She tried to purr with a nod, grinning as she stepped in the shower and grabbed the knobs for the water. He joined her, smiling and saying: "No fear, I won't try to give you a cold shower again; it didn't work." "You wanted it to?" "Not really, in case you didn't notice." "Oh Daddy! I did!" she replied and embraced him, looking up for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her. It turned into a very good kiss, until she retrieved her tongue and murmured: "But now I really have to go." "Do," he suggested, not releasing her. She shrugged in his arms and did, and then he did, on her pubic hair. They snickered with hugs and then separated. Carefully, she turned on the water, and they had a warm shower together. She was a little surprised that he didn't mention their fingers, He had also wanted to use his; she wasn't going to ask. When they returned to the room, by now dinner time, he remarked: "Let's not eat in the hotel. After last night and this afternoon, I don't want to see those people looking at us and know they had the right idea." "But I hope that you like that they did?" "You don't have to ask; you know I do," her father replied with a smile. They dressed and went out for dinner. When they had their first sip of wine, smiling at each other, he winked and murmured: "I didn't know kittens like wine." "This one does," she replied with a smile, then whispering: "Even if it just makes me have to go." "Before you come?" he whispered back with slight smirk. "Mmmm, just sometimes, ... most of the time," she added with disappointed expression. He nodded slightly, then murmured: "Doesn't look that's going to happen too often this week." She smiled with a hum, then replied softly: "But I won't mind, if it does." They continued their meal, talking about her school and courses, exchanging knowing glances when Marlie was mentioned, also when he asked her what else she had done in Paris. She chuckled and replied: Once, they suggested we go the St. Denis cathedral, what they told her mother before she want out, but they just told me all about it." He winked with a nod and veiled smirk. Then she remembered the New Year's Day parade, that the three of them had really seen it, and then about the party the night before. When he replied that he was glad she had had been able to celebrate the New Year so well in Paris, she suddenly chuckled, raising her eyebrows, feeling that she might be blushing. He looked surprised, then quizzical. She hummed softly and said: "Just thought of something, tell you later." He shrugged with a nod. They finished their dinner, talking about what they could do in Florence then next day. In the not so early evening, they took a walk through the old part of the city, enjoying seeing the historical buildings in flood light, then went down to the river to look at the famous bridge. When they discovered that the moon was still almost full, they remembered that it had to be at Easter. They were already holding hands, since it was dark with only a few people around, and most of them were couples who were also holding hands, or embracing. He hummed and drew her hand back around her waist. She squeezed his hand and looked up at with smile, thinking: who needs a boyfriend with a father like hers, or a brother like Marlie's. He drew her a little closer and asked: "A penny for your thoughts." She was about to tell him that one, but the incestuous aspect of it did bother her a little. But she had thought of something at dinner before, and said: "Wanted to tell you; couldn't in the restaurant." He accept that with a nod and soft chuckle. If you hold me like that," she murmured, nodding at an embracing couple, he leaning against the railing along the pathway. Her father nodded again and drew her around in front of him, as he leaned against it. She let go of his hand and slid her arms around his waist, and his went around her shoulders. "Nice, Daddy, like in the shower," she murmured. " "Um-hmm, but maybe you shouldn't call me that again." "I've been trying not; it just came out. I won't." "And what were you thinking?" "Hm-hmm! I love church holidays. Want to know the first thing I did, New Year's Day?" "Not a church holiday really, but if you want to tell me." "Okay, just major holidays, but the first day of the year is a big one." "And what did you do?" "Mmmm! The first time I did that with him, ... like the first time I did with you." "What a way to start the New Year!" he murmured, hugging her. "And to start celebrating Easter," she replied, holding him closer, pressing her hips to his. "Was that after midnight?" "It was, in the morning. We didn't do it like we did." "And where was his sister?" "Oh, Marlie then had to go and saw me on my knees in the bathroom." "Hmmm?! Like that?!" "Um-hmmm! And then, back in her bedroom, she had to just watch us." "Fucking wicked! Sorry." "Um-hmm, but they had after the party. She really had to, had been having her period till them." "And you just watched?" "I fell asleep, not drunk, but more wine - and champagne - than I ever had before. Just as well; just watching isn't much fun." "I can understand that. Hmm? And 'more wine - and champagne.' You told me what that does." "Um-hmm! It did! Why I was in the bathroom, when he had to go." "Oh, sometimes you go and then come?" he remarked. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 02 They both chuckled, embracing. She rocked her pelvis up against him, and he rocked his hips up. "You can kiss me," she murmured, raising her face. "I had to be told?" he muttered, and they kissed. Minutes later, his cock was standing up stiff between them, helped to get there by movements of her hips, and his hand, on the darker side way from the other couple, was holding her breast through her blouse and bra. He murmured: "I didn't think we were going to want to again." "I didn't either. We don't have to." "Shouldn't have told me I could kiss you." "You didn't have to." "But you wanted me to, and I was wanting to." "Isn't that nice? So we did." "It sure was nice, of course." "And if we do want to, we know you can." "Hmm! You always can! And Marlie too. Her brother, with both of you, every night?" "Not every night, not the last one, when we were supposed to have been in the cathedral." "And doing things that would have made a priest at confession blush." "Oh, hadn't thought of that. We could have told him things that would have made him regret taking vows of chastity." "So much for my assumption at the time that my Kitten was still chaste." "Our kitten wasn't, had been - except for Marlie - but wasn't then." They were still loosely embracing, his cock no long stiff. He hummed questioningly and murmured: "I wonder how I would have felt, if I had known that, without learning about it this way." "You probably wouldn't have learned about it, but I'm glad you have, and especially 'this way', she replied, hugging him. He nodded, hugging her in return, and agreed: "I am too." When she looked up with pursed lips, they kissed again, as good as they had before, but stopping at the first movement of his cock. They returned in the direction of their hotel, at first with his arm around her waist, then in the street light, just holding hands, and then, when they heard other tourists speaking English, after a clasp, they released hands and walked the last couple of blocks to their hotel. In their room, they silently started to undress, not speaking until they were just in panties and shorts, when she murmured, almost apologetically: "You know, the usual." He nodded and watched her strip off her panties and disappear in the bathroom, using the toilet without turning on the light. He heard her wash a little and took off his shorts, unconsciously jostling his cock and balls. She returned, giving him a little smile, and he went and used the toilet, trying not splash, and also washed. When he returned, he was surprised to see her under the covers in his bed. She smiled slightly and murmured: "We don't have to do anything, just didn't want to sleep alone." He nodded, and she held up the covers. He joined her, and she dropped the covers with her arm around him. He turned off the light and put his arm around her. When their knees touched, they moved to let them overlap, and they both nodded with soft hums. She wondered if he would repeat his "go and then come," but he didn't, and she liked that, giving him a gentle hug. He returned it, and their thighs drew up to be a little more comfortable, and they hummed again. "We really don't have to," she murmured: "this is just so nice, like this. Can we sleep like this?" "Probably, might not wake up this way." "Like last night, this morning?" "Maybe." That was nice, real nice." He nodded with a chuckle, replying: "Men often wake up like that. It just gets like that to keep them from going." "You didn't have to." "Thank goodness! But if I do in the morning, you don't have to think something else." "You and go and come, too." "I didn't want to say that before, when you said you had to." "I didn't, not like that. I didn't want to say it either," she replied. He hugged her, and she hugged him, aware that her breasts were pressed against his chest, and then liking that he drew his thigh further up between hers. It was so nice to have something between her thighs. When he said good night, thanking her for such a nice day, she replied, and they hugged again and were silent. She fell asleep with just thoughts about how comfortable it was to lie in bed that way with someone. During the night, they both turned over, lying back to back. She was only half awakened by his moving back from the edge of the bed, and dozed off again. In the early morning, he slipped out of the bed. Only half awake, she missed feeling his back against hers, not quite sure that she hadn't just dreamt that he had been in bed with her. Then she heard him using the toilet. He didn't flush, didn't want to wake her. She pretended that she was still asleep, and waited for him to join her again. He did, slipping under the covers. She felt his legs draw up behind hers, and hummed softly with a nod. "Awake?" he murmured: "Didn't want to wake you up." She nodded again, regretting that she now also felt the urge to go, but not so that she immediately had to. She nodded again and murmured: "Just a little. Hold me." His arm slid around her. His hand was already sliding up to her breast, but she made sure it found it. They both hummed, and he held it and drew his body closer behind hers. So nice, feeling his knees to his chest against her, and feeling his hand on her breast. Was being married like this, she wondered hopefully, but then remembered that her parents' hadn't been, at least, not before they broke up. But somewhere, with someone he had learned to do it so good. Could she ask? She clasped her around his and murmured: "Sorry about you and Mom. Who else? Shouldn't have asked," she quickly add, blushing." "You shouldn't have," he agreed, but squeezed her breast. After a long moment, he murmured: "Two before and two after, ... not the reason for our divorce." "Good, better, I hope." "A little, both ways, before and after. Thought it was good enough with your Mom, for a while." "Good enough for me to be here." "Um-hmm, the best thing we did, not that I can remember that it was so good." "Thanks for being so honest, and that I am here. This is just so nice, lying like this; just had to ask." "And thanks that you are ... here," he replied, his hand finding her other breast to hold. She rocked her ass back against his lap, and then he pressed his thighs more firmly against the back of her. She pressed hers back against his, and they both nodded with a hum. It felt so good, but in the silence, she felt her need to go again, stronger. She tried to wish it away, but finally murmured: "You had to, me too, now." He squeeze her breast and rolled back to let her clamber over him. She did. He watched her disappear, waiting for her to return. She flushed and did, returning his smile, as she saw his eyes peruse her naked body, hoping he appreciated that her nipples were erect. She had been playing with them in the bathroom, but when he nodded with a smile, they were standing out of their own accord. Then he didn't just raise the covers to invite her back in bed, he flung them back, lying there all naked, and his cock wasn't as small as she had expected. Then he really surprised her, saying: Since we've both gone, ..." "We weren't going to say that, ... I thought," she replied, but her nipples were so aroused that her hands instinctively found them. "But if I want to, ... not just say it?" Of course, she wanted to, seeing him lying there all naked, his cock looking like it also wanted to, but she was still very surprised by his having almost directly said that he wanted to come, that they fuck. Did her expression suggest that she hadn't understood him, that she didn't want to? He added: "If you want to, and want to make it want to." She felt her pussy go wet. He rolled his thighs apart. Maybe he smiled, but she was looking at his cock, still resting on his sack, but definitely larger than it had been before. She clasped her fingers around her breasts, her stiff nipples caught between two of them. Her thighs twitched together. Of course, she wanted to. What? Make him come in her mouth and then in her pussy? Or just arouse his cock with her mouth and then sit on him, hoping they could both come that way, and then again, fucking, his cock pumping in her pussy? Uhn!" He had grasped his cock, was waving it at her. He really wanted her to. Of course, he did, but not like yesterday, when he wouldn't admit that he did. She did too: in her mouth and in her pussy! She gave a long moan, nodding and moving to get between his waiting thighs. If he came in her mouth, she would make him come again in her pussy, maybe even make them both come twice: rubbing her pussy and then really fucking, his cock pumping in her pussy. His cock wasn't wobbling in his hand, now stiffer, his hand wagging it back and forth. She gave him a glance and leaned down. He held his cock still, so that her lips could slide down around it. So good to feel it there again, to lick and suck, making them both moan. No, she wasn't going to release it before it came in her mouth. "Should have washed," he murmured apologetically, but she had already licked away the slight taste of his urine, familiar to her from the many times she and Marlie had done it to each other without washing, tasting more between each other's pussy lips. She loved the feeling of having his cock in her mouth and caressing it with her tongue! And hearing his moans, when it twitched! "God, that's good! I just love it!" he murmured. She nodded with a deep moan; she did too, and loved that he could now say it. His sack was still loose, when her fingers slipped under his balls and held them. He reached down and tousled her hair; he liked that too. She wanted to make it so good for him and his cock, and nodded her head, sucking when she lowered it, and his cock moved deeper in her mouth, then raising her head and licking the fine ridge of skin, where she had learned a cock was most sensitive. He moaned, then chuckled, when he recognized her pattern, then just moaning each time she made his cock surge, when she licked. When she felt his sack draw up, she moaned with her own chuckle, delighting at her success and in anticipation of enjoying his orgasm, feeling his cock spurt in her mouth and tasting him. He tousled her head again; he was also looking forward to it. Then she heard him murmur: "This is unfair; you want it too." Didn't he understand that she was going to make sure that she get it as soon as he came? It wasn't unfair, but he was right, her pussy wanted it. Or didn't he believe that he could come twice in succession? She was confident that he could, and if it took longer, all the better. She nodded and sucked and lick, thinking that he could have considered licking her now wet pussy, like the first night, and then they could fuck. He knew she would want to after that, and that he then could come again. She wanted it in her mouth first. His hips rocked up for the first time. Yes, he was going to come, but then his hand held her head still, urging it to release his cock. She did, with a sad moan, looking up at him with disappointed expression. "Come, let's fuck, for our kitten too," he murmured. If he could now really say that, she thought, her expression changing, and she quickly clambered up over his legs and reach down between hers to grasp his cock. He caught her arm and murmured: "Not so fast; that was almost too much." "I wanted it to be, not just 'too much'. I wanted it." "Another time," he replied. "Mmmm!" she moaned with an aroused smile and nod, delighted by his confirmation that they were going to do it again and that he wanted to let her have it in her mouth. He returned her smile and said: "Besides, I want to suck your nipples again." She nodded with another moan, thinking: God, this was great, that he could now so openly tell her what he wanted to do - and what she wanted him to do. She was going to show him that he could come twice in her pussy. She was going to ride on it as hard as she could, until they both had orgasms, and then she was going to fuck him until he came again - even if her pussy could hardly stand it. She moved to reach for his cock again, and he let her. She found it. They both moaned as it slipped slowly all the way in her tight pussy, that clutched once before her ass was resting his hips. They looked at each other with intense expressions, feeling his cock twitch. Suddenly, the impact of what she was doing struck her - fucking her father! Too late to worry about that; she was, and they already had, and he had asked her to. She began ride to and fro on his cock, the arousing sensations immediately making her forget her slightly disturbing thought. Her hips moved back and forth as fast as they could, as far as they could with his cock in her, making it move deep in her, move her pussy deep in her. He moaned, nodding. Yes, it felt just as arousing for him too. When she started to hold her breasts, his hands rose up and did. She nodded the a slight twitch of a smile, clasping one of his hands to her breast, as the other one dropped down. Its fingers slid down through her pubic hair and the curve of her mons and found where else she wanted to be aroused, feeling his pubic hair moving on the backs of her fingers, as her hips rode on his cock. He squeezed her breasts with nod of agreement, answering her question about he what he would think of her helping herself. Her fingers did, and she felt her pussy contract, and he nodded with another moan, but she she couldn't feel his cock respond; her pussy was moving it so much in her. But then his hips twitched; she knew his cock must be surging in her. She could only hope he would also come; she was going to, aroused beyond the point of no return, only seeking her own orgasm. When his hips twitched after every second move of her hips, she only appreciated the slightly additional movement in her pussy - anything to help give her her orgasm. She didn't just want it, she had to have it! Her eyes were clenched shut. Someone was moaning as much as she was, and those hips were twitching faster and harder under her ass. "Come, come, COME!" she willed her pussy. Those hips were almost bouncing her ass up. She gasped. It was going to happen! "Fuck!" she exclaimed, feeling her pussy overflow, then hearing a pained sounding groan, as those hips thrust up so hard that her ass lost contact, then dropped down with a wet slap. Her hips had stopped moving to and fro, and she could feel the cock thrusting and surging again and again, making her respond with pulsing groans, feeling her pussy contracting to hold it as tight as it could. A pussy couldn't let go of a cock; it needed, had to have one! She collapsed on him, and he embraced her, as she recovered, recognizing that his stomach was raising and falling under her with just as long, deep breaths. His hands slid down and fondled her ass, reminding her that she still wanted to fuck, but she felt a cramp coming in one of her legs. She had to extend it. When she did, holding it straight, off the bed, his cock slipped out. She gave a disappointed moan, and then extended her other leg, lying on him. His head beside hers nodded, and her fondled her ass again. After a few moments, he chuckled softly and murmured: "Kittens aren't supposed to be able to fuck like that, ... to fuck at all." Hearing his voice reminded her that he was her father. She was just a little surprised that she could have forgotten, no longer disturbed by the thought, especially not, hearing that he had chuckled and said that. She nodded on his shoulder, then replied: "Even worse, this one wanted - had wanted - to do even more, make you come again." "Hmm?! For me, or selfishly?" "Oh, I would have wanted to, too, but I wanted you to." "Good thing it slipped out." "I still think you could have." "Flattery will get you no where." "Hm-hmm! I thought only girls said that." "The ones that don't fuck their fathers. No, other way around: the ones that do might hear it." "Hmmm? Wonder how many?" she replied. He rubbed her ass and then replied: "Like to think lots of them, ... for their fathers' sake." "And for the girls'," she added and raised her head and kissed him. His tongue immediately wanted it get better, to her delight. She wonder if he was suggesting that they maybe could fuck again. Her tongue did what it could to arouse him and suggest that, thrusting in his mouth, like his cock had in hers and in her pussy. His hands were clasping the cheeks of her ass, close down on the crease of her thighs, his fingers grasping in her crevice. Her hips rocked down. Shouldn't his cock be stiff, pressing up between her thighs? She felt it, but not pressing up as much as she hoped, aware that her pussy was drooling a little. His hands grasped her ass, pressing up, as he ended their kiss and murmured: "If you still want it again, come here and let me lick." "Mmmm! If you want to, but I'm dripping." His hands urged her to move up, as he replied: "If you like it, I will." She kissed him and let his hands help her move up over him. She wondered if her pussy was leaving a trail of their juices on his body, as she crawled up and let his hands guide her hips down on his face. She felt his tongue lap up from the back of her pussy, and again, hearing him hum. Maybe he did like it, but his tongue then found where she wanted to feel it. She moaned and held her breasts. He was going to have to suck them another time, but not that 'another time' when she got to taste him come in her mouth. He licked and nibbled, but then his tongue lapped back the length of her pussy, as far as it could, but his hands urged her to let him press her hips further forward. They did, and his tongue moved further. Did he want to do that? It did, his hands drawing her cheeks apart, the tip of his tongue discovering her asshole. She moaned with a nod, feeling his tongue explore, circling it and finding its center. She moaned again, and it probed. She moaned again; she knew how that felt for his tongue, knew that it couldn't probe like her finger could, but it still felt arousing - and that he was wanting to do it! She moaned again and heard his moan. Why shouldn't he like to do it, if she and Marlie and her brother did? She twitched her hips, and his hands let her move them back, his tongue lapping passed her opening. Then it returned and probed in it. She moaned with chuckle; it could probe a lot better there, and did. When she moaned, he did, also chuckling, as his tongue thrust as deep as it could in her. Then it slid up and found where it could really arouse her. She suddenly wondered if his cock was again aroused. She let go of one breast and reached back. It was! They could fuck again! Like she had wanted, hips slapping together, and he could suck her nipples - even if the one was still very sensitive from how he had sucked and chewed on it. He could chew on the other one. She grasped his cock and muttered: "You can, we can, fuck." When she raised her hips off his face, he moaned and nodded, and his hands slid around, his thumbs finding the points of her hipbones and urging her to move back. She moaned as she did, no longer disturbed that she was looking down at her father's aroused face, as she reached back between them and found his stiff cock. Her hand knew where she wanted it to be with only one short slide of the head of his cock between her pussy lips. It was in her with one swift drop of her hips, their moans only following, as his cock surged, and her pussy held it. They were chuckling moans in their agreement about the arousing change from what they had been anticipating. She was leaning over him. Her pussy clutched his cock again. When it twitched, they both grinned with another chuckling moan. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 02 She suddenly remembered that he had said "this is being too much fun." What had they been doing? Didn't matter; whatever it had been, it had been more than fun, and it was so delightful that they both had chuckled now, so agreed about how good it was. He grinned at her again, sliding his hands up her sides, and remarked: "And now I can suck them, like I promised." "And like I was hoping, but not that one again so much." He nodded and replied. "Sorry." Oh, I wanted you to," she murmured and dropped down on him, moving up the little to let his mouth find one of her aroused nipples. It did, and she moaned, and his hands slid back down to her ass. He sucked and nibbled, and his hands explored closing in her crevice. Her hips twitched down, moving his cock a little in her pussy, and they both moaned. His fingers explored closer down behind her pussy. Did they want to do that again, she wondered, hoping that they did. They did! Her pussy tightened, and she felt her asshole twitch under his fingers. Or was it the other way around, her asshole and then her pussy? He could suck and nibble, at the same time doing that with his fingers? Just one of them, but probing there! She wanted it to probe, when she relaxed. It did! He really wanted to! She moaned, her hips rocking a little, not just to feel his cock move, to encourage his finger to probe again - more! She wanted it in her! It probed, and she nodded with an encouraging moan. It probed again. "Uhnnn!" she moaned with a nod, wanting his fingertip passed that barrier, to feel it wiggle in her. She waited for it to. It did! Now fuck! She more groaned than moaned and began to rock her hips. Enough of his sucking her nipple; she wanted to fuck as hard as she could, too aggressively to keep her breast where he could suck it. Yes, he wanted her to, both his hands encouraging her, and his finger letting her asshole draw it deeper. She didn't say it, but thought: fuck, fuck fuck! And he did! She felt him draw his thighs up between hers and begin to pump his cock up in her pussy, immediately finding the tempo of her hips, his cock almost slipping out before it plunged its full length deep in her pussy again. God! He did it good! They did it good! He was gasping with her, his hands - and his finger! - encouraging her to fuck him as hard as he was fucking her! How could she be whimpering like she was, when it was feeling so fucking good?! "Come! ... Come! ... COME!" Only when she heard her aroused voice, did she realized that she had really said it. Had he grunted in surprise? No! He was coming, groaning like she knew he did with his cock's first spurt. He just couldn't thrust his cock any harder than he already was. And she was coming! Her pussy juice was flooding! Where did it come from?! His hands held her hips still, as they gasped and moaned, feeling his cock surge in the last contractions of her pussy. She had collapsed on him again. Their stomachs heaved against each other again, not quite in the same tempo, but then finding it: one exhaling as the other drew a breath. Their deep breaths subsided. She moaned cheerfully, remembering that he had spoken first after their previous orgasms, and murmured: "We do that good together, too." "Don't have to tell me," he replied, rubbing her ass, now with both hands, his finger no longer where it had been. She wanted to thank him for its having been, but didn't. Then he chuckled and asked: "Which of us is going to say that we have to go?" "Not me," she replied, adding with a snicker: "we did before, and - wherever it comes from - I came so much that I don't have to go." "Hm-hmm! Me too, thank you, but ... - hmm? - if we don't have to go, where are we now?" "Where we started, since we went first and came back?" "I think we went a little further passed where we started." She nodded slightly and rolled off her father, rubbing his chest. He didn't say more. She drew deep breath and said: "We sure did, this morning, thank you. And if you meant, well, 'in general', all of it, we certainly have. But, ..." she quickly added, starting again before he could say something: "But then I wanted to. Didn't know my question about "kitten" would lead to it." "It did, ... and I like that it did - very much." "Not more than I did, do," she replied, stroking his chest and then down towards his cock. He held her hand and murmured: "Two of us." "Um-hmm," she agreed, sliding her hand up again and hugging him. They lay there, silent for a long time, and then agreed to get up. Their shower was less arousing than their previous ones together. He shaved, and they got dressed, just exchanging smiles. Before they went to breakfast, they glanced at the unused bed. He murmured: "Save her from having to remake it." She nodded and they left the room. After breakfast, they did the sightseeing they could on Easter Monday, when museums were closed, but churches weren't. Later in the day, they saw a line waiting to climb up in the dome of the cathedral. They joined it, eventually up on the walkway around the dome, looking at the immense painting of the Last Judgement. The "saved" were on the side towards the apse. The "damned" on the other side of the dome, hardly visible to people in the nave of the cathedral. From their view under the "saved," she suddenly noticed that one of the "damned" was grasping the balls of another also naked man. It looked like both of them were going to lose their efforts to escape eternal damnation. [This is true, not the author's imagination.] She just stared at the two men with a hum, smirking, until her father saw where she was looking. He looked at the adjacent tourists, the nearest ones not speaking English, and whispered: "He's got him by his ..." She suppressed her snicker, wanting to whisper back that she liked to get him by his, but didn't, not just because other people were near them. What they were doing, she knew, would have earned them damnation at one time - if anyone knew. That didn't keep her from finding his hand. He squeezed it, but released it, and they continued their tour around the dome and then made the long climb up to the top of the dome, where they walk around the "lantern" with a view over Florence and the surrounding country-side. They made their long way back to the street and started walking back to the hotel. "What do we want to do now?" she asked, then smirking, when he looked over at her. "Anything special in mind?" he asked. "Just something you said I could another time." "Hm-hmm! Does that mean you've already done it, or that you could at another time?" "Both, but you promised I could 'another time'." she replied with another smirk. "Hmm, come to think of it, you didn't let me finish what I was doing, either." "Then we both could, just something to pass the time till dinner." They both nodded with smiles and walked faster. In their room, she flung back the covers on her bed, and they undressed, almost as if each of them were alone, just smiling when they turned from hanging up their clothes and saw each other. In the bathroom, he let her use the toilet first. She looked at his unaroused cock and said: "The nice thing about doing this is that one doesn't have to be aroused first - with Marlie too." "Hmm? Guess you're right, when both know what they want to do." "We do." "We sure do," he agreed with a nod and smile, adding: "when both enjoy doing it as much as, well, having it done." "We do that too," she agreed. He nodded again, smiling with a hum, and she stood up and turned to wash. He used the toilet, glancing and seeing her washcloth further back between her legs. He snickered and said: "I don't like the taste of soap, reminds me of my mother's washing my mouth out when I used a dirty word." "She did? What word?" "Don't remember, and didn't know it was a dirty word; picked it up in kindergarten." She chuckled and rinsed her washcloth and wiped her pussy and asshole again, wondering if her father was going to lick it again. He flushed and also washed, then remarking: "Oh, I remember now: 'nigger.' In the South, everyone said it back then, almost everyone." "Hm-hmm! You should have had your mouth washed out," she said, smirking at him in the mirror. He nodded, replying: "Never said it again until now." When they returned to the room, he looked at her with smile and shrug, and then immediately moved to her bed. She was delighted by his not hesitating this time, watching him lie down with his feet on the pillow, his arms outstretched, as he drew up his thigh, inviting for her to join him, holding his head up, so her thigh could slide under it. As she joined him, she thought that maybe his cock was a little larger now. When their heads were pillowed on the other's thigh, they drew each other's hips closer, His cock may have been larger, but she still had to use her hand to get it in her mouth. He kissed her still closed pussy lips, then chuckled and murmured: "Better than kissing your mouth, having to tilt our heads. Nature wanted guys to do this." She chuckled and drew her head back, replying: "Or girls: lips already crosswise." "Um-hmm!" he agreed, kissing her again, then lapping the length of her pussy slit." "No soap, I hope," she remarked. "No, ... nope, to rhyme." They both chuckled. He rubbed her ass, licking her slit again, the tip of it now between her pussy lips. She didn't have to use her hand to get his cock back in her mouth, just turning her head down and sucking it up from his thigh. They both chuckled again, nodding on the other's thigh. She sucked and licked, feeling his cock grow stiffer in her mouth, and feeling his tongue slide between her pussy lips. This was being so good, she thought, not just that they were doing it again. She, they both had known that they would and that it was going to be good - so good! - with his now so directly talking about it She had thought about the crosswise lips, when licking Marlie's, but not said anything. But he had, and then enthusiastically accepted what she had replied. She sucked and licked, moaning in response to what her father was doing, and then suddenly had a dark thought: their father-daughter incest - daughter-father incest; she had suggested it! It happened, of course, even in the Bible - Lot and his daughters. But should it be so enjoyable, playfully enjoyable? Wasn't it supposed to feel wicked, solemnly wicked, a breach of all social conventions? It didn't, it couldn't, not what she was enjoying - both ways! - and his moans confirmed that he was enjoying it just as much, whatever thoughts he might be having. His stiff, twitching cock in her mouth was the proof of that. She wanted more proof of how much he was enjoying it, what she hadn't been able to savor that morning, when he just wanted to fuck. Just wanted to fuck! But then she had wanted to, cheating him out of enjoying how good her pussy juice tasted. Fair enough, why they were both doing it now, both wanting the other to savor how good they came, were going to come. She moaned with a chuckle, liking the idea that she wanted to come, to let him enjoy her pussy juice, almost - not quite - as much as she wanted him to make her pussy give it to him. Her finger and his had long since found where they wanted to probe, wanted to feel them probe. They didn't both start to come at the same time, but close enough that their orgasms overlapped, very strong spurting orgasms! She sighed with a long moan, as pleased that she was savoring his semen, as she was that he had made her pussy spurt in his mouth. She had felt that he had opened his mouth wide, passed her pussy hole, trying to suck on her whole pussy, to let her pussy juice flow directly in his mouth, and had felt his jaw close to swallow, like hers had - almost biting his cock - when his first spurt in her throat had made her gulp. They had done it for each other! And it had been so good - generously so good! Of course, it had been good to have their own orgasm, but it had been at least just as good to let each other experiencing them, tasting them. She sighed with a long moan, his softening cock still in her mouth. She had already swallowed, her tongue just caressing his cock gently. He moaned, nodding on her thigh, and murmured: "God, you taste good! I just love it." She moaned, loving that he had confirmed her thought about their giving it to each other. She rocked her head back. The head of his cock slid down her cheek. She nodded and replied: "You do too; I do too." "That I taste good?" "Mmmm! Wouldn't want it to taste any different." "You taste better, much better." "I know - Marlie - but your 'strange cheese' is the only way it should taste." "And you really like it? His too, her brother's?" "Else I wouldn't do it." "Hmmm? French girls should tell the rest of the world that: that it's just another kind of cheese." "Still, lots of people don't like those kinds of cheeses." "Their fault. Hmm, I didn't mind licking you this morning, tasting myself." "I liked that you did, not just because it felt good." "Hmm? Two of a kind; we must be related." he replied cheerfully. Had he forgotten that they were?! Forgotten the incest, that had bothered her for a moment and did now again? Didn't he have any such thoughts, joking that way, while they were still lying together, she looking at his shrinking cock, and he, at her pussy, his/their kitten, her "pretty pink pussy"? "We are," he added softly, nodding on her thigh, adding: "and I like that we are." "Me too," she agreed with a nod, relieved that he had said that. He hadn't forgotten, had been able to say that, almost humorously referring to their incestuous relationship. Why was she worrying about it, if he wasn't - and Marlie and her brother didn't? She rubbed his ass, and he rubbed hers. They both nodded again. She was still wondering about their relationship, when she felt him blow on her pussy, and then move his head and kiss it. What did that mean, she asked herself, but liking it, feeling his head drop down on her thigh again. She rubbed his ass in response with an "um-hmm," that could have sounded like a question. His response was a questioning "Hmm?" Then he murmured: "I don't know ... - oh, this must sound funny - I don't know whether I don't like to do this as much as ..., well, you know." She nodded on his thigh, then replying: "When you do it that good - you always do - I don't know either. I love doing this." "That's what I meant, that you do it that good too." They both nodded, rubbing the other's ass again. She hummed, then smiled to herself. She wasn't going worry any more about what they were doing. With that thought, and since he just rubbed her ass again, she chuckled softly and murmured: "But if you don't know, and I don't either, we can do that." "Hmm! To find out?! Not right now." "Whenever you want." "Hm-hmm! And if we still don't know?" "Then we have to do it again, this way." "And if we still don't know?" her father asked with a chuckle. "Mmmm! Just keep trying to find out." He slapped her ass and chuckled, remarking: "You're as bad as me; that's what I was thinking." "You said it before: we must be related," she replied cheerfully. Now they had both said that, she thought, and that if he could chuckle and say "as bad as" she really wasn't going to worry about anything they did; they had already agreed that they wanted to it keep on doing it every way they could. When he nodded and then kissed her pussy again, that was settled. His head rocked back on her thigh, and he slapped her again and replied: "But not right now. Dinner." "Mmmm! First?" "If you think I can." "If you'll let me; I love to sit on you." "Hmm? And I'm suppose to think about that during dinner?" "I hope so," she replied, sitting up and grinning down at her father. "It was never like this," he murmured, as he also sat up. They got up and went in the bathroom and washed. She was wondering if his last soft remark referred to what he and her mother had done or something before - or after - that. They washed and got dressed and went out for dinner. When they returned to their room and were naked again, he repeated: "If you think I can," and lay down on the other bed. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 03 "It was never like this," he murmured, as he also sat up. They got up and went in the bathroom and washed. She was wondering if his last soft remark referred to what he and her mother had done or something before or after. They washed and got dressed and went out for dinner. When they returned to their room and were naked again, he repeated: "If you think I can," and lay down on the other bed. She did and proved it, arousing his cock with her mouth and then clambering up over him and putting it in her pussy, then telling him how good it felt, as she sat still on him, rubbing herself. He held her breasts, trying to describe how good it felt for his cock in her tight pussy. She nodded and replied: "In my, our kitten too." They both chuckled when it squeezed his cock, then more moaning softly, each time her fingers made that happen again. He rocked his hips up once and asked her to ride on his cock, but she teased him with a shake of her head, despite her urge to beginning rocking her hips on him. He pinched and pulled her nipples in response. She flinched: "Ouch! Just suck them! Can you sit up and suck them?" "Try; haven't done that," he murmured with a nod. "Me neither," she agreed and grasped his upper arms and leaned back to help him. He could, holding her sides. They both hummed in response to the movement in her pussy and embraced. She couldn't rub her pussy that way, and he wasn't sucking her nipples, but she was very aware that they were touching his chest, moving her body to rub them on it. She moaned softly, looking up at him with a tilt of her head. They kissed, their tongues moving instead of his cock, but making it twitch and her pussy squeeze. They both hummed with chuckles. Then she retrieved her tongue and and said: "But now suck them," and loosened her embrace, leaning back. Her father nodded, letting her lean back and lowering his head. He sucked and gently chewed on her nipple. She moaned, unconsciously scratching his back with her fingernails. When she shifted her shoulders to have him arouse her other nipple, he did. She moaned again and consciously squeezed his cock. He nodded with a hum that vibrated on her stiff nipple. She moaned and then murmured: "I can't rub, but you can." She reached back and grasped his wrist and drew his hand up to her face, finding his middle finger with her tongue and sucking it in her mouth. Good Daddy, she thought, when he moved it in her mouth, then recalling that she didn't want to use that word for him now - not when his cock was in her kitten, and he was sucking her breast, and when she was wanting his finger to arouse her, had told him so directly! She slobbered on his finger and opened her mouth to avoid wiping it off. Good Daddy! He nodded and his hand immediately dropped down behind her, his other fingers touching her ass, the sides of her crevice. She groaned with a nod, waiting for his wet finger to find her asshole. It did! Such a good Daddy! Too hell with her having to think of him with her life-long name for him! To hell with them both! His wet finger wasn't hesitating to probe, and her asshole wanted it to, despite its contracting, but it relaxed, and his wet finger easily probed deeper. She moaned with a nod, only recognizing that he stopped sucking and nibbling, when he also nodded with her stiff nipple in his mouth. She had to kiss him - her "fucking father," not "Daddy" - not that "fucking father" was any better, but he really was - total honesty! - and she was his fucking daughter and loving it! But she couldn't tell him that, just try to show it. "Kiss!" she insisted softly. He nodded and raised his head, and they kissed. For a moment, his finger in her was still, but when her tongue fucked in his mouth, it moved again, making her pussy clutch, and then his cock surge. What could be more arousing that feeling his - any man's, not just her Daddy's - cock in her pussy and his tongue and finger moving in the only other places they could be in her?! But they were her fucking father's - her Daddy's! - and his tongue and finger were plunging together; he was wanting them to, consciously fucking her with them, making her pussy clutch his throbbing cock! Maybe it was good that they were all his. It was - so fucking good!! She sucked his thrusting tongue, wanting to make it feel how her pussy was contracting on his cock, feel that she wanted them both - and his finger too! - as deep in her as they could be! Wanting that was as sinfully wicked as it could be; couldn't be more sinfully wicked because they were her father's. It was better that they were his instead of someone else's, someone who just wanted to fuck her - even Pierre - the only other man who had - but not as good as her father was, but his cock wasn't really, just throbbing in the aroused clutches of her pussy, when her asshole tightened around his finger, as though it wanted to hold it still, but she didn't want it to. It didn't, making her moan, as she sucked, when his tongue plunged when his finger did. His cock had to, too! Her pussy had to feel it plunging, like his tongue and finger were! Her hips rose up and sank down. She moaned, and he moaned, and his hand encouraged her to do that again. She groaned, delighted, and did, fucking his cock in her pussy as hard as she could, his hand following her ass up, his finger plunging as deep as it could, when her hips descended. Their mouths lost contact, but his cock was fucking her - and his finger! Besides, they were both gasping and groaning, couldn't also fuck with their tongues, not the way she was riding up and down on his cock as hard as she could. His hips thrust up, and she forced him to lie back, dropping down over him and letting them slap up against hers. She groaned; it was so good! So fucking good! And he was groaning. They had to come as soon as they could, no more playing around. She managed to plunge her tongue in his mouth once, but then it was all about what their hips were doing, as they gasped and groaned. She only wanted the satisfaction of her own orgasm, forgetting his, but then he grunted. She felt his and her own a moment later - so wet! Her pussy was flooding! Their hips stilled, and she collapsed on him, oblivious to everything except the aftershock contractions of her pussy, hearing him moan. She couldn't say anything, didn't want to, just appreciating that his stomach was heaving as much as hers was. When they resided, she moaned, and he did, and she moved off him. He rolled away from her, but reached back and drew her hips to his. She curled up behind him, reaching over and holding his chest. He nodded with soft hum, holding her hand. She hummed, moving her fingers, and they were silent, falling asleep. She woke up, when he moved, rocking back against her, then his hand sliding back over her ass. Then she heard him chuckle and say: "We shouldn't do it that good with the light on." She opened her eyes, seeing that the ceiling light was still on. She hummed, remembering, agreeing that it had been so good, but then remembering that he had chuckled. She did and asked: "Why not? Afraid someone could have seen us?" "I hope not, but if they could have, I hope they were envious." "They would have to be, even if they couldn't imagine how really good it was." He rubbed her ass and nodded, then murmured: "But now I really have to go." She shuddered suddenly, and replied: "But not before me, now that you said that." They chuckled and hurried to the bathroom. Back in the room, she felt the cool wet spot on the bed and grinned with a shrug, nodding towards the other bed. He nodded and remarked: "Don't have to worry about not using both beds this way," and gestured for her to lie down first. "Have to remember that," she replied with a smile and lay down. He turned off the light and curled up behind her, finding her breast with his hand, and they said good night. In the morning, she woke up when she felt him getting out of bed. She rolled back and gave him a sleepy smile, then seeing that his cock was below half mast. He noticed her glance and chuckled, remarking: "I know, you were hoping that would happen again, and it might have, if I hadn't woken up, maybe even if I had just lain there wanting it to." "You didn't," she replied with a scowl. "We don't want too be late for the line at the museum - serious sightseeing today." "Oh, yeah. Then we'd better save time by taking a shower together." She grinned and rolled out of bed, following him to the bathroom. They really did save time, both "going" and only washing each other - with only minimal attention to erotic zones. While her father shaved, she arranged the covers on the beds to suggest two persons had just gotten up. She was still wearing only panties and Bermuda shorts when he joined her. She smirked slightly, drawing her shoulders back, appreciating that he was looking at her breasts. She reached for her polo shirt, when he had pulled on his boxer shorts. He looked at her and asked: "No bra?" "Saw that lots of girls aren't, and it's more comfortable - well, feels good." "Hmm! I can imagine how. And I thought they were just smiling at me because I'm so good looking." "Oh, you are. Hm-hmm! But maybe it was that Italian boy behind you, smiling at her." "Hmm?! And you want to find out?" "I'll just smile at you, if there is one." "But you want him to see your nipples?" "If they pop out," she replied, glancing down at them. They had. He nodded, not suppressing a smile, but replying: "They pop out too easily; I don't want to be walking around with you, counting the times they do." "Oh, that would be fun! Hm-hm-hmm! And you could look too, helping the score." "Put on a bra. I don't need to do that, and besides, I don't just have to imagine how they look." "No!" She agreed with a grin, thrusting her breasts out again, then finding her bra. Her father nodded, and they finished dressing and were early at breakfast. When he took a large helping of scrambled eggs, she smirked, recalling that a German girl in the school had said something about eating too many eggs made men more potent - "too interested in sex," the girl had said. She almost chuckled, both hoping that she had been right and then wondering if the girl had been disturbed by the thought. Probably not, since they had been talking about boys, the girl probably just pretending that she didn't like the idea of men being too interested in sex. Yeah, she had admitted that she was still a virgin, and the couple of other girls - including Marlie - had only snickered, none admitting that they weren't. That had been before Christmas, before she knew that Marlie slept with her brother. They finished their breakfast and set off to the Uffizi Gallery. When her father stopped to look at a shop window with miniature copies of famous sculptures, she saw him eying them, recognizing Michelangelo's David, but not all the nude females. If he wanted to see other nude girls, she generously thought, only fair, since he couldn't see her nipples, and she also liked to see nude girls, all the ones she had, especially Marlie, even though her boobs were small, but so firm with nipples that she loved to suck. She felt hers pop out, wondering that her father was still perusing the display. "I like that one," he murmured: "the one holding stuff down there, you know." She nodded, recognizing the sculptured copy of a painting from her art appreciation course, also recognizing that is was the one with the bigger breasts, wondering if that was why he liked it, because its boobs were more like hers. Probably, assuredly, he had glanced over at hers. He had been right that she should wear a bra, if he was going to do that, but she liked that he had, wishing that her bra could let her aroused nipples show. She hummed and murmured: "Good art course; we'll see her, a painting by Botticello: Birth of Venus." "Just a painting?" She glanced around to see if other American tourists were near. They were. She nodded, murmuring that she would tell him later. He nodded with a slight grin. When they were away from others, she explained softly: "That was her blond hair 'down there', but I think hers - in the painting - aren't that big." "So much hair, and just born?" "Had to hide that; artists didn't show that till later, well, some Eves with just a leaf or two." "Hmm? They taught you that in the course?" "Not really, but of course, we looked. They smiled, and she murmured: "You were right about the bra. Three times already:" Her father hummed with a smile and pat her ass. She started, but then smiled, whispering: "Four times, but don't do that again." He nodded with an earnest expression, and they joined the still short line for tickets to the Uffizi Gallery. When they had climbed up to the level of the gallery, she told him what she had learned in her course, and he expressed his pleasure about that, but then showed much more interest in the paintings, when they got to the nudes of the Renaissance. When they found Botticelli's Birth of Venus, he sighed with a smile and murmured: "You were right, have to keep looking." She nodded with a grin, but her father wasn't looking at her, even though her nipples popped out again. Damned bra, she thought, wanting a mixed group of American students to see them, the girls as much as the boys. As she heard their guide talking, she wondered if they could do anything with each other during their European tour, but then hummed to herself; it couldn't be anything as good as what she and her father did! She hurried to catch up with him in the next room. He was still looking for bare breasted nudes, just giving her a glance. She enjoyed looking, pleased that her own weren't what the early painters seemed to have thought was most attractive. But then they were looking into a large, octagonal room and saw a statue. The Medici Venus, she immediately recognized from her course, the girl holding her hands in front of her, as though she were shielding view of her breasts and pussy, but they weren't, her hands not clasped to them, letting them see her nice breasts and the swelling curve between her thighs. Her father sighed with a smile. She knew why, delighted that the sculptor had wanted Venus to have breasts more like hers, but her marble nipples weren't sticking out the way she felt hers were trying to in her bra - because she knew he liked hers, or because she had suddenly imagined sucking Marlie's? "Too far apart," he whispered. She immediately understood: the nipples on the statue were further apart than hers, that were pointing straight forward, trying to in her bra, but her father had remembered that and thought her breasts were like those of Venus. What more could a girl want? She nodded in response to his whispered comment, and they exchanged slight smiles. Yes, that was what he had been thinking. But that wasn't all he had been thinking, she discovered, after they had viewed the statue through the other two doors to the octagonal, domed room. Back in the wide corridor passed the exhibition rooms, he moved to the windows that looked down on the courtyard and smiled broadly. Away from anyone who could overhear him, he grinned and whispered: "Not just them, her 'kitten' too." She remembered the statue's pubic mound, and then remembered the expression "mons veneris," truly appropriate for a statue of Venus. Her father thought hers was like that - and liked that it was? She smiled slightly with a shrug; she had never thought about how her own looked, pretty much like Marlie's, then recalling that some girls' didn't look like that, hardly a curve under their pubic hair. He winked at her, and she smiled, raising her cheeks. "Going to look for more like that," he whispered and glanced up and down the corridor, seeing the nearest female statue, further along than that of a nude male. As they passed it, she glanced at its cock and balls, then wrinkled her nose and whispered: "Too small, all the others' too." "Hmm? Is that all you looked at in that course?" "A bunch of girls? Not all we looked at." They chuckled and then approached the statue of the nude woman, glancing at her smaller breasts and then at her mons veneris. She didn't want to stand and stare, appreciating that the sculptor had also wanted hers to be like that of the Medici Venus's. She moved on, her father looking at the statue for another moment, then following her. When his hand brushed hers, she looked over at him, returning his slight smirk. "This is more fun than I thought it would be," he murmured. "Um-hmm, she agreed with a nod and smile. They did look at famous pictures without nudes, but didn't miss any with nudes, nor any nude statues. She lost count of the number of times her nipples popped out, when her father hummed at the view of pussy he liked, all the ones on statues, or when they saw a pair of better breasts, and he glanced over at her, his eyes dropping down to her breasts, then murmuring: "Very nice." Once, when she couldn't be overheard, she grinned slightly and replied: "You know what happens when you do that." "Mmmm! Good thing that I insisted this morning." She nodded, wondering if the little muscles that made her nipples pop out got stronger through exercise. They were getting plenty, even if her bra didn't let it show. Even if her father insisted and complained, she wasn't going to wear one the next day. If he liked her breasts so much, why not let him see them and that she enjoyed his looking - and anyone else's looking? She would. From what she had heard in her art course, she felt that they weren't really doing justice to all the important pictures in the museum, but then had to snort softly at the recognition that they weren't missing any of the nude statues and pictures and both enjoying it. He gave her a quizzical glance. She smirked slightly and murmured: "'Very nice,' 'too small,' all of them." He chuckled with a nod, and they continued their search. After they passed one male nude statue, she murmured: "Maybe not too small." "I thought so too," he agreed, and they chuckled. They finished their tour through the gallery. As they were going down the long flight of stairs back to the courtyard, they smirked and grinned at each other. On a landing, when no one was around, she stopped and asked softly: "Mine is really like that?" "Mmmm!" he responded with a grin, glancing to be sure on one could overhear them, and replied: "Yours are, top and bottom, apparently the classical ideal. Hm-hmm! Top better than some, and ..." he broke off his sentence, hearing someone approach. They continued down, slowly, letting two couples pass them. At the next landing, she stopped again and asked: "'And'?" "Mmmm! With a smaller waist and a nice ass." "Really?!" "I think so. Lunch?" She nodded with a sweet smile - and stiff nipples. She rubbed her arm over them. He nodded with a hum and smile, and they hurried on down the stairs and returned to the courtyard and walked back towards the Palazzo Vecchio, where Michelangelo's statue of David was. They had seen it before, but this time she smirked and murmured "Too small." He nodded with slight smirk, and they turned and looked again at Cellini's bronze of Perseus holding up the head of Medusa, but they weren't looking at her head. He scowled and murmured: "Much too small." "Reminds me of a three year-old I once babysat for." He nodded, then looked at the small bronze nudes at the base of the statue, a male on the front, moving to see the two females on the sides, then glancing at her. She nodded and murmured: Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 03 "More like Marlie." "I should know?" he whispered. "Just said it." "Guess you know, lovely," he whispered. He then looked down at the bronze plaque lower down on the base and smiled at the female nude on it. She nodded and whispered: "Don't have to say it." Her father nodded, smiling at her as they turned together. After a couple of steps, then he did: "Very nice, like, well, you know." She nodded again: that bronze girl had breasts more like hers, rounder than the just 'nice' ones of the girls whose were like Marlie's. It was too obvious that they were father and daughter, but she wanted to hold his hand as they walked across the square. Their hands just brushed, and they smiled at each other. She felt her nipples pop out again; they didn't need to hold hands; they were both enjoying themselves with about the same thoughts. They found a small restaurant and shared a half liter of wine with their meal. When he said again that that had been fun, they both smirked slightly. After a better sip of wine, she murmured: "I'm not going to wear it tomorrow." "Uh-oh! How many times?" "Countless. Hm-hmm! Today, but tomorrow maybe just once, the whole time." Her father feigned a scowl. She smiled sweetly and asked: "What do we want to do now?" "See another museum," he replied quickly, but with a slight smirk, adding: "The Bargello, a great collection of important things, but maybe that will be fun too." "Hmm? Not what I was thinking, but I hope so," she murmured. "I thought so," he agreed and refilled their glasses. Exchanging glances, they drank and finished their meal, then emptied their glasses. He paid, and they set off to find the museum. In the courtyard, they sat down with their guide book, putting their heads together to read the long and varied history of the building. When their fingers touched under the binding, his slipped over hers. "Um-hmm," she responded softly, liking that he really had known what she had been thinking in the restaurant. Of course, they weren't going to go back to their hotel in the middle of the day, but then ... They finished reading about the building and looked up, immediately seeing marble statues on the far wall of the courtyard. "Enough reading," he said with a smile, and they went to look at them, especially the large standing nude woman. They exchanged smiles and read the label: Juno. He looked at it. She thought he was trying to appear more knowledgeable about Renaissance art than he was. When he turned away, he said out loud: "Very nice, in every respect." She had to repress a chuckle, knowing that he was referring to her nice breasts and mons veneris. They went in the large ground floor room. After a glance around at all the statues, he murmured: "This is going to be fun." She nodded with slight grin. They didn't immediately seek out the female nudes, respectfully looking at other statues. When they were looking at the first nude male, he murmured that she didn't have to say it, and she nodded: too small. Donatello's bronze David also wasn't very well endowed, but she remembered that he was still supposed a young boy when he slew Goliath. Bandinelli's marble Adam was a little better, but his Eve earned another "very nice," as did another well-developed female. Then they both had to find the toilets and hurried pass other statues. On the way across the courtyard, out of earshot of others, her father suggested: "Maybe all Italian girls are like that - your kitten - the Greek ones too, since the Romans copied Greek statues." "Hmm? You want to look at tight pants tomorrow?" "Just a thought," he replied apologetically. In the toilet stall, after she had gone, she stood up and looked down at herself and slid her hand over her pubic hair, pleased to feel that she did indeed have a mons veneris like the statues. Then she chuckled, wondering if her father was comparing what he had with what the male statues had. She pulled up her panties and shorts, tempted to take off her bra, but her purse wasn't big enough to hold it. As she left the ladies room, she remembered his last remark and recalled having seen the two Italian girls in the school in the showers after sports. She snickered; they both weren't like that. Even through their hair, she had recognized that, just never thought about it, but now she was, and pleased that she was like the sculptors ideal - and her father's. He was waiting for her on the landing to the stairs to the upper galleries, and apparently had heard her snicker, giving her a quizzical smile. She grinned and murmured: "They aren't all like that, not the two Italians in the school." "But you are," he murmured with slight grin, and they started up the stairs. "Um-hmm, I looked, ... and Marlie, too," she murmured with smirk. They chuckled and dutifully went through the rooms upstairs - no statues or nude paintings. That took them around the building to the open gallery that did have a couple of statues, one a large marble of a seated woman. Even at a distance, seeing her in profile, he hummed and said "Quite nice, don't you think?" "Oh yes, 'quite nice," she agreed, understanding that he thought her breasts weren't "very nice." They approached her, both trying to show just polite interest. They had been right, she thought, her breasts weren't as big as her own, but still quite nice, like the rest of her. The sculptor had captured very realistically the way she had one foot hooked behind her other leg. "Walleyed" he murmur, and she recognized that he was referring to her nipples, which were pointed away from each other - not pointing like her own were trying to. They read the label: L'Architetturra by Giambologna, 1580. They looked at her for a few moments, then her father hummed. She glanced at him, seeing his slight grin. He looked over at her and murmured: "Tell you later," and grinned more broadly. They had been through the whole museum and went down the broad, outside stairway to the courtyard. They left the building. On the street, she looked at him quizzically and asked: "Tell me." He nodded for them to walk away from other tourists. When they were, he snickered with another grin and said: "If she is supposed to represent architecture, or be the muse for architects, well, I can imagine what kind of erections she would inspire." "Oh, Daddy! Is that all you think about?!" "Wasn't I supposed to?" "Yes!" she agreed with a grin. They both hummed with smirks and turned to go back to their hotel. On the way, he remarked: "I wonder if that pun works in Italian." "Hmm? Don't think the word is in our guide book." "Hm-hmm! I can ask the girl at the reception desk." "Draw her a picture?" "Guess I would have to; couldn't show her one, not in the lobby." "Bet you couldn't, in the lobby, even if you dared to." "No, you're right, so I guess we'll never know." "Mmmm! But you can show me." "With your help?" "How'd you guess?" They chuckled and walked faster. She thought to herself, don't have to ask again: what do we want to do now? As they strode along, she wondered what they would do, aware of her nipples and moist pussy. There was still lots of time before dinner; they could do anything, everything they wanted - that he wanted. Before they reached the hotel, she had played through all the variations she could imagine, all very arousing. What was he going to think, when he saw her damp panties? Hopefully her shorts weren't also damp! Would they have to go to the bathroom first? Oh, she wanted him to lick her kitten and then fuck her. Selfish thought! And he had said that he wasn't sure that he didn't like her to suck his cock and to come in her mouth as much as he liked to fuck her. But the way they had fucked the night before had to have been better. Whatever he wanted. Before they entered the hotel, they slowed down, and he casually asked for the key to their room. They waited for the elevator, hardly looking at each other. When they were in it, however, she moaned and pressed her thighs together. He nodded and murmured: "Me too." In their room, they both immediately started to undress. When she unzipped her shorts, she felt down in her crotch, yes, a little moist. He had unzipped his pants. When he stepped out of them, she saw that his cock was pressing against his shorts. She moaned with a sigh, catching the elastic of her panties to pull them down with her shorts. As she stepped out of them, he pulled his shorts down, and his cock bobbed out. She moaned again and separated her shorts and panties, holding her panties up a little and murmuring: "They're all wet." "Mmmm! I want to taste why, where." "Just what I was hoping," she replied. They both sighed and took off their shirts - and she, her bra - as fast as they could. She stared at his cock and balls. Of course, his cock was now much bigger than any on the statues, but his loose sack and balls also were. "Not 'too small'," she murmured. "But 'very nice, in every respect'," he replied, his eyes shifting from her aroused nipples to her pussy and back, and then to her face, then murmuring: "My Kitten, her kitten, the ideal of all classical sculptors." She blushed at his flattering comparison and instinctively covered her breasts. He smiled slightly with a moan, and then turned to the nearest bed and drew back the covers, nodding for her to lie down. He didn't want her to sit on his face. Any way he wanted. She moved towards the bed, and he dropped to his knees, his cock bobbing. Like that, lying across the bed. She did, grabbing the pillow and stuffing it under her head. Had she ever wanted her pussy licked as much as she did now?! She drew her thighs up, spreading them. Yes, even this way she could see her mons veneris swell between her thighs - and his cock, before his hips dropped down on his feet. He leaned down to get his face between her thighs on the low bed. And then his mouth was all over her, not yet licking between her pussy lips, just playing in her hair, exploring over her whole swelling, as though he had to assure himself with his mouth and tongue that his visual image had been correct. Oh, she knew it was! But she wanted her pussy to be licked. She was about to push his head down, when his tongue began to find its way through her hairs. She moaned, and then felt it on her bare skin, lapping down between her pussy lips. She moaned - finally! She had been thinking about it for so long, anticipating, already so aroused! And now his tongue was arousing her more, searching for more to taste. Thank goodness! If he started to flick it over her aroused little knob, she was afraid she would come before she could enjoy this as long as she wanted to. Then it did flick up. She moaned, and her hips twitched. Not yet! What could she do to stop him? She drew her knees back further, rocking her pussy up, hoping his tongue would find her wet hole again. Had he nodded, understanding what she was thinking? Whatever, his tongue was back probing in her. It must be longer than Pierre's had been; it probed and wiggled, really in her. When it slipped out, she saw him lick his lips and heard him hum. She thought that he might glance up at her, but he didn't, just staring at her pussy, her pretty pink pussy. Had Mars stared at Venus's pussy that way - Botticelli, at his favorite model's? Maybe, why he didn't want to let anyone else see it in his paintings, well, of course not the way her father was looking at hers. She hummed at the thought that he found hers so attractive. Then he did look up at her with an intense expression, just smiling slightly as he nodded. She unconsciously also nodded, and his face dropped down, his open mouth sucking onto the top of her pussy, and his tongue flicking there. Her hips twitched again, and she moaned. It felt so good, so arousing, but she still didn't want it so soon. "Not yet!" she blurted softly and grasped her shins and drew her knees down beside her breasts. This time he really did nod. His tongue lapped down to her wet hole again, probing. She nodded with an um-hmm. Then his tongue lapped further down. He wanted to do that too?! She tried to roll her hips even further up. She couldn't really, but she didn't need to; his tongue slid over her tight little hole, making it twitch. She moaned with a nod, feeling his tongue explore. When her asshole tightened and relaxed, and again, she heard him chuckle and felt the tip of his tongue probe. She knew it couldn't probe like his finger could, but it felt like it wanted to, and felt so good. Was he wanting to do that, until she told him to lick her pussy again, since she had asked him before to stop? Enough waiting now. She let her legs rise up, rolling her hips back down a little. His tongue immediately slid back up, just plunging once in her wet hole, and then his open mouth was where it had been before, pressed around the front of her pussy, trying to seal his lips around it so that he could suck. His tongue flicked and caressed. She gave a pulsing moan. "God, yes, now!" She realized that she had said what she was thinking. He nodded with a hum and began to nibble and to lick even more intensely. She let go of her legs and grabbed the back of his head with both hands, clamping his mouth on her. His hands slid up her sides and found her breasts, his fingers finding her so stiff nipples. She approved with an extra moan, and his fingers squeezed, pinched and pulled on them. They were going to be sore, but she wanted the almost painful additional arousal - anything, everything that could make her pending orgasm better. She locked his head to her twitching hips and began to gasp and whimper. Her thighs were flapping, wanting to spread and let her pelvis rock up on his mouth, but having to snap together on his head. When she was about to have her orgasm, they wanted to hold something between them: his head, Marlie's or Pierre's, or especially a man fucking her! Her father's head right now! She whimpered and gasped, and then her body convulsed, her hips rising off the mattress, as she felt her pussy juice squirt. Finally! And he was moaning. She felt his tongue slide down to try to catch some of it. He loved it as much she did, tasting Marlie's or her own, when she managed to use her fingers good enough. But this was so much better! Her body convulsed again. When his head pressed back against her hands, they clasped it back between her thighs. He moaned with a nod and made her convulse again. She groaned loudly and her hands relaxed, her whole body did, her feet dropping to the floor, as she gasped and sighed with softer moans. He cupped his fingers around her breasts, just holding them, and looked up at her face, but her eyes were closed, her stomach rising and falling with her deep breaths. When she could think again, she remembered that she had thought that if he did that, she would still want him to fuck her. She wasn't so sure now, but he must want to, and he was still holding her breasts, waiting. She put her hands on his, and opened her eyes. Did his expression suggest that he wanted to? He must. Fuck, his cock in her pussy. She chuckled, suddenly remembering again his wondering if her sucking his cock was better than fucking. She wasn't sure that she didn't have the same question now, after how good he had licked her pussy. "What's funny?" he asked. "Nothing really," she replied: "tell you later. Fuck me, before he forgets." "You really want to?" "I will. Yes, I want to, want you to," she replied, drawing her legs back up. "He does too," he murmured and rose up on his knees. His cock was just level with her pussy, but he had to raise it a little guide it to her pussy. It was still stiff enough for him to push it in her slippery wet hole. They both hummed, smiling at each other. She consciously squeezed it and murmured: "See, my pussy wants it to." "Hmm! It must." He hummed and moved it in her. She nodded, humming, and said: "Just like that, like this." "Um-hmm, perfect, like this," he agreed and gave her a longer stroke, as though to demonstrated that the bed was just the right height for him to fuck her, then continuing with shorter ones. "Perfect. Hm-hmm! You were wondering if you didn't like me doing it to you more than this way." "I think we settled that last night; couldn't have been better." "It sure was, but while you were doing it now, I began to wonder if I didn't like that at least as much; it was so good." "I loved it, love to do it, especially when it's so ... rewarding." "Mmmm! Like I do too - so 'rewarding'." Her father was continuing to fuck her gently, their conversation interspersed with mild moans, when her pussy contracted or his cock twitched. One and then the other had happened after her last remark. After their moans, he smirked and said: "'Like I do too.' You mean just like I do, with Marlie?" "Hmm? Hm-hmm! Probably, yeah, sure, but I was thinking about doing it to you." "But you like to do it with her?" "Of course! If you like to do it with me, why shouldn't we two enjoy it just as much." "Can't argue with that, just never really thought about it, and certainly didn't expect you would be telling me." "Like we both didn't expect that we would be doing this," she suggested, glancing down at his hips, that were moving his cock in her pussy. They took a longer stroke, slapping against her ass. Both moaned. Then he said: " And I'm glad we are," and fondled her breasts. "Not more than I am," she murmured, looking up at him with a dreamy expression and clasping her hands over his. He nodded and fucked her gently, both silent for many slow strokes. She sighed with a moan and murmured: "I just love this, this way. I was thinking I wanted you to just pound it into me, and both come as soon as we could, especially for you." "We might have, if you hadn't insisted that I not stop. I don't think I was going to ask you if you wanted me to - just do it, hoping you wouldn't mind. Kind of selfishly thoughtless." "I wouldn't have minded, but this is so much better, and talking about it." He nodded with earnest expression, his hips moving almost automatically, and replied: "Very!" then murmuring: "And the talking; never did before." "Pity, it's so nice. Why not?" Her father smiled wryly and shrugged - still fucking - and replied: "Just didn't. Sort of: one didn't talk about that, just did it." Then he grinned and added: "Besides, back then, I probably came before much could be said." "Mmmm! I'm glad this isn't 'back then'." "Me too! Never thought I could do this for so long, especially in your tight pussy; must be getting old." "You could have; not getting old, we just didn't, don't want to - yet." "Should have tried talking back then, might have helped." "But I like that this is a sort of 'first time' then." "Hmmm!" he nodded, agreeing: "It is, and I like it just as much." Her pussy contracted, and his cock surged, and they both moaned, nodding with smiles. He chuckled and remarked: "Just don't do that too often, or I will." "Mmmm! And if I can't help it?" Her pussy squeezed his cock again. He feigned a scowl and replied: "Then I'm going to have fuck you like you thought we were going to." "Mmmm! That's not such a bad idea!" "Fucking my daughter?" "Not if you do it that good," she countered and drew her thighs up and hooked her feet behind his waist. "If that makes it a good idea," he murmured and leaned down over her. "It does," she murmured and wrapped her arms around him, raising her face for a kiss. For a few moments, just their tongues were fucking in one and then the other's mouth. Then his hips began rock. She moaned with an emphatic nod. Instinctively, her hips rocked to let his cock thrust deeper in her pussy. Of course, it had been arousing to feel his cock gently fuck, while they had been talking, but how could she have waited so long for his really fucking her? He was now, and how he was! His hips weren't just rocking. His knees couldn't still be on the floor; his hips were pounding against her ass, his hands clutched under her shoulders to keep the hammering of his hips from shoving her whole body back. And in her pussy! Pierre's cock had never plunged so fast and hard and deep in her clutching pussy! Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 03 "Fuck!" She hadn't just thought it. She said it again and again, between gasps and moans, until she could only gasp and whimper, hardly conscious of her father's groans from his exertion. Her pussy was already squirting, when he grunted with an even harder thrust, and then again and again with the following ones, until he collapsed on her. She held him in her arms as tight as she could, feeling her pussy still contracting, as though it wanted to draw in his cock and make it keep moving. He moaned, and it surged a couple of times, but then her arms relaxed, sliding off him, and her feet slid down over his ass and down his extended legs, resting inside the back of his knees. She had been fucked! Her only thought, as their stomachs rose and fell against each other. When she had recovered enough to think again, she put her arms back around him and made her pussy squeeze. His cock slipped out. She felt liquid slid down to her asshole. He snorted softly and raised his head and shoulders, looking down at her. After a moment, he murmured: "I hope you really wanted it that way; I just had to." "Ummm! I did, just didn't know that I did, that it could be that good." "Don't think I did either. No, I know I didn't." "Two of us." "Wrong two," he murmured. "Not here," she murmured, hugging him. He nodded with slight smile, then replied: "Kiss, and then I've got to go." "Uhn! Why do I always then have to?" "Shower, kiss," he replied. They kissed and hurried to the bathroom, to the shower stall and began to pee on each other. This time he directed his stream up on her. She snickered and said: "Doesn't taste like much, yesterday, and with Marlie. Guess there's more to taste between our pussy lips." "Um-hmm, there was yesterday, but it really doesn't taste like much, certainly not compared with what you get to taste, when you suck my cock." "And you know I like that, well, maybe not really, but it's so special; I just want it." "Lucky me, Marlie's brother, and whomever." She wiped her fingers up her stomach and licked them, shrugging with wry smile, then replying: "I hope so, but till then just lucky you." "Very lucky me," he murmured and turned on the water. They washed each other, affectionately, but not erotically, and returned to the room. They both glanced at the bed and then at each other with smiles, then almost reluctantly started to put their clothes back on. When she reached for her bra, he smiled and said: "If you're not going to wear it tomorrow... Maybe in the dark and without museums and now," he glanced at the bed again: "they won't." "If you don't look," she enjoined with a nod and got her polo shirt. He nodded with smile, but replied: "No promises." She grinned and pulled her shirt over her head and then slid her hands down over her breasts. With a smirk, she slid her hands back up under them. They were too firm to jiggle, but she moved them. "Very nice," her father remarked with a smile. "They're still sensitive, from what you were doing, but I wanted you to." "Sorry; they felt like they wanted me to." She looked down and circled them with her fingers, murmuring: "Say thank you." When they popped out, he replied: "You're welcome," and smiled at her. They left the hotel. It was too early for dinner and still light. He suggested they look at churches, which were open. In the first one, her murmured: "Darker in here, safer." "Safer? And no young men, you mean?" He nodded. He really was worried about her nipples popping out, she thought. They did, but as he had said, it was darker, and no one was looking at them, also not her father. Did she want someone to? They wandered around, looking at the altar, also the ones in the side chapels. As they were leaving the church, she looked at him with a smile and said: "I know, we don't have to walk together, you can just follow me to the next church, or lead me there, and don't have to be worried about them." "Hmm? If you want. Better follow you, in case you get too much attention." "Where's the next church?" "Just find one," he replied, and they set off, he following several yards behind her. She smiled to herself, pleased that he had accepted her suggestion, consciously holding her shoulders back, as she walked, also pleased with herself. She had known that she had an adequate figure, but never had considered it "very nice" - her father's words - and his "in all respects," comparing her kitten with those of all the nude statues, was something she had never thought about. But he had, and liked hers! And how he liked it! Could anyone seeing her imagine how he did, and that they just had - again?! Her nipples had popped out again. She swung her arms a little more, wanting to feel her shirt move on them, shifting her eyes around to see if anyone could see them, no young men, but an older tourist with his wife approaching her. He even returned her smile. The way his wife suddenly spoke to him, she thought she had also seen her nipples and wanted to distract him. Why not enjoy letting an older man see them; grandpops - hers too - still liked to look at young girls. When the couple passed her, the wife nearer to her, he had his head turned to his wife, but she saw his eyes glance at her again, long enough to see her smile again. They were speaking German. She hoped she hadn't distracted him from what his wife was saying - not too much. "Kitten, church," she recognized her father's voice, and realized that she had just passed one, just a small one whose facade didn't stand out from the neighboring buildings. She turned and joined him again. They entered the church, even darker inside than the previous one, with only a main altar in the small apse. In the light on it, however, they recognized an early Madonna and Child painting, her breast exposed through a slit in her gown, a very nice round breast with his little hand on it. They both hummed softly. She knew what he was thinking and anticipated his murmured comment: "Very nice - very, very nice. Lucky kid." "Daddy!" she softly admonished him, responding spontaneously to his having said more than she had anticipated, especially, his "lucky kid." "Just realistic, more than others like that," he murmured apologetically. "Like Mom's, when I was that small?" "Just 'very nice', then they weren't later." She hummed with a nod, suddenly recalling her mother's figure and for the first time wondered why hers was better. She looked at him questioningly. He glanced down at her breasts and shrugged, then murmured: "Maybe yours are from my side of the family: my mom's, my sister's." She almost chuckled, just nodding, appreciating that he had read her thoughts. She smirked slightly and asked: "Your sister's?" He nodded with a wry smile and nodded that they leaved the church. In the back, away from the few old ladies sitting in the church, he shrugged and whispered: "Just a couple of times, peeking, when I was twelve or thirteen." "What older siblings are good for, like Marlie's brother." "Certainly not like that. Hmm? Maybe she did know, didn't mind my peeking." "I bet she did, like me with my bikini, wanting you to see how I had grown." "Very nicely. I did, was ... pleased, delighted." "Nothing more?" "Not back then, ... I don't think." She gave him a broad grin, and he nodded and let her leave the church before he did, but then quickly following her, then letting her walk further ahead of him. She turned towards the major square, admitting to herself that she was still hoping some younger man would look at her, an Italian or a young tourist. This was being fun, and that her father was going along with it. And he had almost admitted, ... well, he had admitted that he might have had erotic thoughts about her when she had shown him her bikini. She hadn't, but she had been pleased at how he had looked at her, feeling a little embarrassed at letting him see her in the equivalent of just a bra and panties. She hummed with a grin: he certainly had seen her now - and without them! Her nipples popped out again. In the square, she chose to walk towards the largest group of young tourists. They looked like a high school class, too young, but she wasn't going to do anything with them, just wanted them to look - the girls too. Why not, if she liked to see girls' breasts, had spent the whole day looking with her father for ones that looked like hers, "very nice" in comparison with most of the ones in paintings and on statues. She drew back her shoulders and approached the group, looking to find a better excuse for going in that direction, nothing but the streets at the corner beyond them. She heard that they were speaking French, a school class from there. The couple of boys, who weren't in conversation with the girls, noticed her. One looked older than the others, taller. She continued to approach them, swerving to go around the group, when he smiled at her. Had she smiled at him, she wondered. He stepped away from the others and said in English: Where are you from?" Damned nipples had already popped out again, she realized, then had to smile, recognizing the contrast between her spontaneous thought and why she was parading her bra-less boobs through Florence. And he had noticed them! Her arm started to move to wipe over them. She stopped it with a shrug, and replied in French: "America, United States." "Oh, you speak good French," he said in his mother tongue, then adding: "I thought you were an American. Just here for a holiday?" She noticed that the others in the group were now following their conversation. Had they all seen her nipples? She glanced at the girls, hoping to see that they also weren't wearing bras, that that shouldn't surprise them. The couple she could see, didn't look like they really needed one. She looked back at him, hoping her nipples had relaxed, and replied: "No, in school for a year in Switzerland." "Oh, nice, in the French speaking part of Switzerland?" She nodded, suddenly wondering where her father was and what he was thinking. The boy - looked more like a young man - and now it seemed that they all were watching them, asked: "And here, like we are, to learn about Renaissance art and history?" She nodded with a smile. He nodded with a smile and said: "Oh, then you're with a group." She shook her head, wondering where her father was. He smiled again - nice smile; her nipples popped out again, but she didn't mind, liked that his eyes had dropped down for an instant, just an instant, returning to her face. Then he said: "If you're alone, since you speak such good French, you could join us. We've already seen the cathedral and biggest museums, but you probably have too." She nodded that she had - with her father. Where was he? Damned nipples - again! She looked at him with an apologetic smile and murmured: "I'm here with my father." "Oh?" he replied with a disappointed expression, but then nodded with a smile and said: "Pity. I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay in Florence." "She nodded again, smiling, and replied: "We are, we will, and hope all of you do too," glancing around at the others. They all nodded. She thought a couple of the boys had smirked slightly at his unsuccessful attempt to include her in the group. When he returned back to them with a shrug, they all turned to go somewhere. Behind her, she heard her father's voice again: "Hi, Kitten, that was nice; didn't know you could speak such good French." She turned back and smiled at him, then smirking and replying: "When the only English word I've be using for a year was 'kitten'?" They both chuckled and then laughed, so that others turned to look at them. They noticed and grinned at them; no one could understand their joke. "Dinner," he suggested, and took her hand, much to her surprise. She clasped his, smiling over at him, He squeezed hers, shrugging with a smile, and murmured: "Don't all daddies want to hold their daughter's hand?" "Until they go to school." "After they do, especially when they're 'very nice, in all respects'." "Thanks, but maybe even if they aren't. Hm-hmm! Have to ask Marlie." "She is, 'in all respects'?" "I think so, well, just 'quite nice' there - but I like them. 'In all respects', 'very nice'." "Hmmm? And you like that too." "Um-hmm, but maybe just a brother to hold hands with is enough." "Glad you didn't have one, ... if that's what sisters want." "Me too, but every girl has a father," she said softly, squeezing his hand. "And they, a daughter," he agreed, clasping hers. They smiled at each other with more earnest expressions, still holding hands as they looked for a restaurant. Her father wanted a better one, that didn't advertise with a tourist menu. She reminded him that they didn't know anything about why the food in an expensive restaurant would be better. He nodded. She chuckled and murmured: "Aren't you glad that I thought you should save the price for two hotel rooms." He groaned softly, squeezing her hand with a nod. She clasped his hand, nodding, then said in her normal voice: "Let's just find a better tourist restaurant. You know what the Italians are supposed to eat for dinner? He shook his head. She explained: What I learned: an antipasta, the pasta, then a primo, secondo, both warm dishes; but with a contorno, probably a vegetable side dish, since the secondo is only the choice of meat; and then maybe a salad; and a dessert - a 'dolce', a sweet - of course," "And they aren't all overweight? Where do the babies come from, when they eat all that for dinner?" She snickered and replied: "I don't really have to tell you, do I?" "No! Not like that, but still?" "Maybe there would be a lot more of them, the babies." "I doubt it. Okay, a better restaurant whose menu we can read, and anything you want." "If it doesn't make me fall asleep," she added with a grin." He smirked and remarked: "Just want you to want the last course, whatever it's called in Italian." "Hm-hm-hmm!" she chuckled, then snickered with a grin, catching her breath, and whispered: "Sort of like 'The Last Supper'?" Her father started, hurting her hand with his strong clasp, and murmured: "I know we're wicked, and I like it, but that is sacrilege!" "Sorry, 'mea culpa'. It was your idea about the last course, and I want it." He rubbed the back of her hand on her thigh, and nodded. Then he murmured: "But it won't be a 'dolce'." She clasped his hand, nodding and giving him a smirk. They both hummed, and then found a restaurant that wasn't full of tourists. After they had ordered, their half-liter flagon of wine was brought. It was half empty by the time their first course came. He asked what the French boy had said, and she told him about their conversation, also mentioning - sotto voce - her nipples. He nodded with soft chuckle, and then their flagon was empty and their glasses almost empty. They didn't have to say much; they were in complete agreement about how they had spent the day, just agreeing that they had enjoyed the museums. Her father whispered: "Especially Venus." "Very nice," she murmured and felt her nipples pop out, pleased that he was looking at them and nodding with a smile. "Yours too," he murmured, looking at her face again. She smirked slightly and whispered: "And yours - not too little." "Even Hercules?" She shook her head and finished another bite, before she replied: "And if they were, he's in Greece or wherever." "My good luck," he whispered over the table. She pursed her lips, then licked them, and almost silently mouthed: "Mine too." He hummed with warm eyes and raised his glass, and she, hers, and they drank deeply, emptying their glasses. They had a second flagon of wine with the rest of their meal. Before they had finished eating, and finished the wine, she looked at her father, chuckling, then asking - with the most innocent expression she could muster: "What do we want to do ... tomorrow?" He grinned with a nod at her play on what had become a pat question. She smirked and leaned over the table and whispered: "Don't have to ask about 'now'." He shook his head with an soft moan. Then he suddenly grinned and said: "Maybe I want dessert here." "Hmmm? Thought it was sweet enough," she replied, taking a couple of packets of sugar from the bowl on the table. "It was, just wanted to tease," he said. "Uhn! Can't say it here," she murmured and excused herself from the table. Her father then also had to go. They returned together, having to try not to show their mutual arousal when they faced each other outside the restrooms. When they both ordered an espresso, she wondered if they were stalling returning to their hotel, or if they both thought they needed something to counter all the wine they had drunk. That alternative was eliminated, when the waiter came with the bill and two small glasses and insisted that they have a grappa on the house. Her father paid with a generous tip, and they walked back to their hotel, holding hands, exchanging clasps and glances, chuckling with smiles. He released her hand, when they approached their hotel and saw other guests entering it. They had to share the elevator with an American couple, all making polite comments about visiting Florence. She was glad that the couple didn't get off on their floor, maybe seeing them going together to their room. When they got off the elevator, her father smirked and asked: "What do we want to do now?" Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 04 Her father paid with a generous tip, and they walked back to their hotel, holding hands, exchanging clasps and glances, chuckling with smiles. He released her hand, when they approached their hotel and saw other guests entering it. They had to share the elevator with an American couple, all making polite comments about visiting Florence. She was glad that the couple didn't get off on their floor, maybe seeing them going together to their room. When they got off the elevator, her father smirked and asked: "What do we want to do now?" She smirked back with a growling hum, raising her eyebrows, and whispered: "Better not tell you here." He nodded with a grin, and then they were in their room, smirking at each other. He closed the door and asked: "What couldn't you tell me?" "Mmmm! Can't you guess?!" "Maybe, still want you to tell me." They were already starting to get undressed, she gathering up the bottom of her polo shirt. She smirked again and pulled it up in front of her head. In the short time before their eyes could meet again, she tried to think of a witty response. She hesitated a moment, before she finished taking it off, remembering that he could already see her bare breasts - and her again aroused nipples. Or had they had been already; she had felt them several times during their walk back to the hotel. She whipped her shirt off her head and grinned at her father. His pants and the snaps of his shorts were already open. He grinned back and shrugged to suggest that she tell him. Wasn't he going to let her see his cock before she did? She hummed with a chuckle and said: "I want to make you wonder again if what I - just I - can do is better than, well, the other." "Mmmm!" he hummed with a grin, nodding and sliding his pants and shorts down. His cock sprang out a little. She snorted and then added: "And then want to sit on you and make you change your mind." "Hmmm?! You think you can?" "I can try." "Mmmm! I'm sure you'll want to," he replied, stepping out of his clothes, as she opened her shorts and stripped them and her panties down. He nodded with a hum, as he watched her rock her hips to let her hands push them passed them. When she stepped out of them, he smirked and asked: "As wet as before?" "Not quite. Hmm? Going to have to wash them all; didn't know I was going to need so many." "But not right now," he murmured, adding with smirk: "But I'm glad you do." "Me too," she agreed with a grin, but then shuddered and said: "Shit! I've got to go again." "Me too, just not that," he agreed, almost popping the buttons off his shirt to take it off, adding: "If you want to do all that." She grinned at him with a vigorous nod and disappeared in the bathroom. When he joined her, she suggested: "Washbasin, like her brother did." "Hmm! You two - three!" he remarked and turned to use it. She didn't wait to wipe, hurrying back to the room and opening up the other bed. Before he returned, she was kneeling on the floor, waiting, wondering if she was a little drunk, planning to suck his cock and both his balls and lick him there too, where he had her. Her father returned, surmising the situation and sat down on the bed in front of her. His cock was hardly stiff now, hanging down, but still full. She nodded and murmured - more to herself: "Like you did," committing herself to do what she had been thinking. She liked that he was sitting up, watching her raise his cock and suck it in her mouth, and that he hummed with her. She wanted it to be good for him, but she enjoyed it just as much; it was so arousing to suck a cock, to caress it with her tongue and feel it swell - its nice round head, so firm and smooth now. When he moaned, and it twitched, she thought: of course, it wanted to be in her tight pussy. It was all moist; it wanted it in it too, but there was time for that. Now she wanted it in her mouth. Her fingers jostled his balls. That was fun too, but before his sack drew up, she had to suck them. She heard a disappointed moan when she raised her head and let his cock spring up. "Suck your balls," she murmured. "Both of them?" "If I can," she replied, delighted that he lay back, without her having to suggest that he did. He even drew his thighs up, like she had, rolling his hips up to make it easier for her to suck them - really, both of them? Better start with the one that didn't hang so low. She pressed it between her lips with her fingers, closing her mouth around it. He hummed. Whatever it felt like for him, he was liking that she was, and how her tongue could caress it: nice round ball, almost as big as the head of his cock. The other one now. She sucked and then let it pop out of her mouth. He chuckled and fondled her hair and murmured: "Feels good." She nodded with hum, and then his other ball was in her mouth, her jaws closing around it. She caressed and sucked, then chuckling: she had him by his balls - one of them. He had to let her do anything she wanted. She was going to have to release his ball to do that, so he wouldn't really have to, but he would let her do what she wanted to, even if he didn't already know. He knew it would feel good, and knew that she would then want to suck his cock the best way she could to try to make him think it was better than fucking - not that she really believed it could be, not after the way they had fucked that afternoon and the previous night. But she was going to love to try to make it at least that good; she loved to feel him come in her mouth! But now the other first. She sucked and then let his ball pop out of her mouth again. When her hands slid up the backs of his thighs, he hummed and drew them further back. Good Daddy! He knew what she wanted to do and wanted her to! She did, her tongue exploring, circling and finding the center and probing. "Yes, please," she heard him murmur. He really liked it, wanted her to! His "please": as much as she could, as much as she wanted! She hummed with a nod, and did, delighting at making it twitch and relax, almost wishing that her tongue could be as slender as her finger, as slender as his finger was, when it more than just probed in her. His hips twitched up, and she realized that her hand had found and been holding his cock, feeling it move in her grasp. Instinctively, her hand clasped it harder, and his hips twitched again, moving it again. "Suck it, ... cock," he murmured, his hips twitching up again. That he could say that, tell her that, so directly ask her to do that! His daughter! His cock was back in her mouth and she licked and sucked, continuing her thoughts: or had he forgotten that she was his daughter? He couldn't have, not after their days together. Whatever thoughts she had had about what they were doing and questions about what thoughts he could have been having, it didn't matter, they both wanted to. Sure, they had all along and known that they both did, but he hadn't ever said so directly. She had, maybe with not those words, but he had let her. She moaned and sucked and licked, hearing him moan, as his hips twitched again, his cock now moving in both her mouth and hand. She wanted it to be so good for him, that he really could think it was better than fucking in her tight pussy - now so wet! God, it wanted his cock in it! Not that expletive: seen too many churches and religious paintings. Did any of them show daughters and fathers? Lot and his daughters, but they were just making him drunk. Any of the people on the fresco in the dome of the cathedral, who were sliding into perdition? Sucking and licking her father's aroused cock was too good to let her pursue those questions; she wanted him to come in her mouth, to taste it, to know that it was being so good for him! She heard him moaning; he did too! To hell with perdition and damnation, she didn't believe in them, anyway, just wanted her father to feel that her sucking his cock was the best thing he could imagine. His cock was surging in her hand and mouth, and his hips were rocking up, wanting his cock deeper in her mouth, almost deeper than she could stand. Her hand jogged, clutching it tighter. How tight was her pussy? Two fingers in it were enough - hers or Marlies' - three fit, but they weren't as big as his so stiff cock. She clutched his cock as hard as she could. He groaned. "Fuck me in my mouth!" she willed him. He did, groaning again and then grunting with stronger thrust of his cock, that her hand could hardly cushion, and she felt his strong spurt hit the back of her throat. She gulped with a gagging sound. She had wanted it, but it still surprised her, but then she could moan in satisfaction, as his following spurts filled her mouth. She loved the taste of his "cock cheese"! He moaned and held her head and hand still. God - no, better - hell, it had be been good! She savored what he had given her, his "cock cheese." When she was about to swallow it, she chuckled and didn't, swishing it around in her mouth again, suddenly remembering that it was thousands, millions of squirming little tadpoles that wanted to make her pregnant. She chuckled again, feeling a little sorry for them. She caressed his cock with her tongue. He urged her to raise her head. She did, smirking with closed lips, and dove up on him, planting her mouth on his, waiting for his tongue to slip between his lips. When it did, she hummed and found his with the tip of her tongue. Did he know what she wanted to do? He let her tongue slip between his lips and sucked. She wanted him to open his mouth a little more. He did, and she curled up the sides of her tongue. His semen slid down it, as she chuckled, awaiting his reaction. He gave a surprised hum and then sucked and caressed her tongue, chuckling. Pleased, she chuckled again and retrieved her tongue, then squealed. He had slapped her ass, then said: "Wicked girl; you like that?" She nodded and replied: "Tell you when I get him in me," and drew her knees up on the bed, reaching down between them to grasp his cock, that had been pressed between them. "That too?" he murmured, as her hand found it and guided it to her moist opening. She nodded, pleased that it was still so stiff that she didn't have to keep it straight, as she lowered her hips. They both hummed, his sounding a little questioning. She moved her knees further up to sit more comfortably on him, then grinning down at her father, nodding again with a chuckle and replying: "This too. I warned you." "Hmm? I guess you did," he said with a wry smile, holding her hips. She rocked them a little and consciously squeezed his cock. He nodded, but it didn't twitch. She squeezed it again, and he rocked his hips, then murmuring: "You really like that?" "Didn't you?" "Might not have, if I hadn't already tasted it, licking my fingers." "Hm-hmm! That's good. I like it, almost swallowed it all first." "Can't taste it then." "No, but I like to. Great sacrifice, sharing it with you." "Still wicked, but thank you, if it was one." She rocked her hips, nodding with her impish smile, then asked: "Was that better than what we're going to do?" "Too good! You think I can again?" "Yes! But we can talk again for a while, ... even though my pussy wants to already." "Mmmm, like my cock did this afternoon, but that was good, very good; don't know if it ever took so long before." "I know it was for me, but I think I could still count the times." "Don't. Just keep rocking your hips like that." She nodded and did, smiling down at him and nodding with a soft moan, when she felt his cock respond. Then she chuckled and said: "Maybe we can take even longer this time, since you have already." "That would be nice," he murmured. For a few moments, they were silent, enjoying how she gently moved his cock in her pussy, just exchanging mild smiles, when they felt them respond, his hands still holding her ass. She squeezed his sides with her knees, remembering how she had had her legs locked around him before dinner, and then recognizing she especially liked feeling something between them when she was fucking - or when she wasn't, just lying in bed with Marlie, their thighs drawn up and overlapping. Was that why girls suddenly were interested in pony riding, like she had been when she was eleven or twelve? She chuckled at the thought: their all wanting to feel something on the inside of their thighs before they thought about sex. Her father shrugged and asked: "What was that for, your chuckle?" She grinned and told him, still rocking her hips. He snickered and suggested: "Or maybe they wanted to feel something pressing and rubbing their little pussies." "Hmm? Maybe, but I can't remember that feeling good." "When did you discover that it could?" "Mmmm! When Mom told me not to." "She caught you?" "No, and I hadn't been doing anything; at the playground competing with boys climbing and swinging on a rope. When I asked her why it felt funny, she told me I shouldn't do that. I guess she assumed that I had done more than just feel the rope rubbing there. What did she say? 'Girls shouldn't do that.' I hadn't really done anything, and didn't for a long time. But her words kept coming back: 'Girls shouldn't do that.' Do what? Or just girls shouldn't do it, whatever? But women could? Or men could - to me? Well, boys? Anyway, eventually I figured it out. Her father almost laughed, nodding, and she grinned and rocked her hips a little better a couple of times. Then he remarked: "About when boys discover what feels good. Oh, maybe that was when she told me Kitten wasn't an appropriated nickname." "Probably, makes sense. And you didn't know why?" "I don't think so," he replied. She saw his eyes drop down and felt her nipples pop out, realizing that they hadn't been stiff. He hummed softly with a nod and murmured: "Very nice." His hands slid up under her breasts, and she looked down at them, thinking: yes, her breasts were very nice, especially if her father thought so, like he had thought her mons veneris was - his "in all respects." His thumbs and fingers were squeezing under her breasts, making them swell out. She nodded with a hum, liking the way they looked with her nipples standing out, even a little swelling of the pink area around them, rough with goose bumps - especially nice. She murmured: "You can touch them, just not too much." His eyes found hers, and he smiled with a nod and replied softly: "I was wanting to, of course; they're so lovely, better than on the statues and pictures." She hummed in appreciation of his compliment, watching and feeling his fingers touch them, moaning softly, as she suddenly recalled all his compliments: her pretty pink pussy; "very nice" breasts; and "in all respects" her mons veneris; and now her aroused nipples, that his fingers were rubbing over. She moaned, watching them pop up between his fingers. "Feels good, having fun?" she murmured. "Um-hmm. Hard not to do 'too much'. You wanted to talk." "Try not to. That feels so good, their rippling over them." "You said I could." "Um-hmm. Oh, you should put them in my pussy, not all of them, of course." "Hmm, just two or three?" "Sometime. That feels so good. Well, of course, I meant for our fingers. Marlie and I like to feel our fingers in each other, how it feels for them." "Mmmm, I can hardly remember, but it did, maybe just because it was so arousing that she let me." "Like when Marlie wanted me to the first time. I won't asked about 'she'." "Two or three, no more, the couple that didn't let me do more - if I had known how." "I want you to. It's different, of course," she rocked her hips once harder: "but it still very good; we love squirming our fingers in each other." "I will too," her father agreed, squeezing her nipples between fingers. She nodded with a hum and replied: "We like to do that too. Her breasts are just 'quite nice,' but her nipples are 'very nice'." "Yours are too," he replied, catching them again between his fingers." "You don't know hers, and when we do that, we can suck them at the same time." "Both of you, at the same time?" "We tried that once, also with our fingers, but we prefer to take turns." "Hmm? What a father should know about his daughter!" "If he 'knows' her - if they 'know' each other like we do?" "Hmm! Fucking good!" he replied, rocking his hips up." "Um-hmmm!" she agreed, rocking her hips harder again, a couple of times. Her father nodded with a grin and asked: "So you prefer to take turns?" "Yeah, when we're doing that: fingers and wanting to suck or kiss. And it's the girl-girl thing, both knowing how it's feeling for the other one." "Good thing you met her brother." "Very, but I hadn't thought of that. We just enjoy what we can do together." "Sounds very good." "It is, but she still doesn't have what you and Pierre have." Her father rocked his hips up again. She rocked her hips harder on him, nodding with a grin and said: "That!" "I was getting worried, after all I've heard about how good you two do it. And when you're both licking?" "Wicked! Girl-girl, sometimes feeling like we're doing it to ourselves. ... But I want your fingers in my pussy. Give me your hand." He held one up, and she put their palms together, smiling at seeing how much longer his fingers extended. He slipped his finger between hers, clasping her hand, smiling and saying: "I was wondering what else we could do." "Mmmm! And then we can start all over again," she replied, rocking her hips a little better. "Um-hmm!" her father agreed cheerfully, rocking his hips up again. They nodded, moaning with pursed lips. She rocked her hips more vigorously, feeling his cock surge. She moaned with longing expression on her face. He squeezed her breast and hand, then drew her down over him and murmured: "Fuck me." He had asked her to again! She did, forgetting that she had wanted to rub her pussy and try to make them have their orgasms that way. He wanted to fuck, and she did, her hips riding up and down on his cock. When his hands slid down to her ass, the fingers of one immediately slid between the cheeks of her ass. She groaned with a nod. Good Daddy! He quickly licked it, and then it was back probing, more than just probing! She groaned again, trying to will her asshole to let it probe as deep as it could. It had to clutch again, but then his fingertip was wiggling in her. Such a good Daddy! Another time, his finger was going to do good things in her pussy, but now fuck him best she could! His hips were slapping up against hers, wet slaps, but they were going to be much wetter! God, she wanted to come! She wanted him to, too, but now she had to have hers, just hoping he would too. This wasn't about affectionate, loving sex - pure fucking, seeking physical satisfaction! Fuck!! And he was groaning, wanting it too, his hips bouncing up against hers. "Come!" she silently demanded her pussy. She whimpered and gasped. It did! So wet! Was her pussy juice splashing when their hips splatted together? Thank God! He was grunting! Coming too! Thank God! Finally, both of them! She collapsed on him, oblivious to everything, until she felt a cramp in one of her thighs. She thrust her legs back off the bed, surprised that they dropped down on the floor, having forgotten how they were lying. That she had felt that his cock had slipped out was less important than her straightening her legs to loosen the cramp, and drawing her feet back to avoid one in her calves. She lay there on him, feeling his hands caress her ass. Now she could appreciate his loving affection and her own for him. Of course, she loved her father, but "making love" with him was the ultimate. Could she, should she tell him that? She lay on him, tired from the exertion of fucking him. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 04 "I shouldn't say it," he murmured. "Then don't, she replied softly, recalling her own thoughts. "But I want to," he replied, rubbing her back. "Me too." "What?" her father asked. "I shouldn't say it either." "Maybe we both shouldn't then." "But we wanted to." "Um-hmm," he agreed. "Then you first, and I will." There was a long moment of silence. Her head was on his shoulder and she felt his head nod. After another moment, he murmured: "It was never so good. ... all of it with you." She nodded and replied: "With you too, ... but I was thinking about affection and loving, that our 'making love' was the ultimate." He nodded again and after a moment murmured: "It was, it is," and embraced her. She nodded, turning her head and kissing him. He murmured again: "Sorry, for just comparing it - us - with anything in the past." "If we both think it's that good?" Her father sighed with a moan and stroked her back, then replying softly: "We do." She raised her head and kissed him. His hands slid down and clasped her ass. Their tongues just found each other to confirm their agreement. Then he gently slapped her ass with chuckle and said: "I'll have to suck your very nice breasts another time. Have to go again." "But with your fingers in my pussy," she replied. He nodded again. The intense emotional content of their conversation was gone, both snickering as they got up and went to the bathroom. They exchanged almost sheepish smiles as they silently took turn using the toilet and washing. When they returned to the room, they both glanced at the open beds and at each other. "Which one?" her father asked. "Mine; I want to wake up again that way." "Not sure which one that is; looks like they're both 'ours'." "They are, but this one was just mine." She moved towards it, and her father followed, turning off the light as he joined her, curling up behind her and immediately sliding his arm around her and holding her breast. She nodded with hum and murmured: "Very nice." "All of it, and not just 'in every respect'." "What I meant," she agreed, reaching back and rubbing his ass. He moved his hips closer behind her, but replied: "Can't promise that you can wake up that way again." "Then your fingers." "One way or the other, for sure," he agreed, squeezing her breast and rocking his hips. They murmured good night. She wanted to say "Daddy," but didn't, and they fell asleep. During the night, they both turned over. He rolled back, and she following him, her arm on his chest. When he rolled on his other side, having to move back from the edge of the bed, for few moments, she was awake enough to make space for him, then curling up behind him, moving further down the bed, her head off the pillow, drawing her arm up under her head, the other one around him. When they woke up that way, he had to go to the bathroom. She woke up, as he slipped away under her arm. When she heard him using the toilet, she smiled to herself, pleased that the sound didn't make her think that she had to, too. Had he drunk more of the wine than she had? She lay there, waiting for him to return, wondering what he would do or say. He crept back under the covers, raising her arm off the bed to move closer, facing her. She opened her eyes and said: "Good morning." "You too," he replied, as their arms went around each other. Then he chuckled and said: "It's going to have to be just fingers." "Oh goodie!" she replied spontaneously with her childhood expression, so inappropriate to what he had said, but her delight that he had just made it come out. He chuckled and rubbed her back, replying: "Almost as good as when I said that you could take riding lessons?" They both laughed out loud, hugging each other. When they had recovered, she moved back up on the pillow and smirked, replying: "Now you know why." "But you didn't, back then." "But we do now!" she answered, drawing her thigh up over his, holding it up, until he drew his up between hers. Her thighs held it, and they both nodded, chuckling. She squeezed his thigh again and murmured: "There's still space for your hand, your fingers." His hand slid down and slapped her ass, and he replied: "Wondered if you would say something like that." "Don't they want to, at least, one of your fingers?" He scratched her ass with his middle finger. She nodded and murmured: "It does." He nodded, and his hand slid down between them, and his fingers played in her pubic hair. She rubbed his back and hummed, and his fingers found the front of her pussy. She hummed again and murmured: "Yeah, do that, until I go all wet." He nodded and rubbed the little swelling between the start of her pussy lips. She hummed with a nod, then moaned; it felt like her pussy was already wet enough. She felt his cock stir, touching her thigh. Of course, it was always arousing for her, when she had had her fingers in Marlie's pussy. She moaned again, hoping that she didn't have to tell her father to put his finger in her pussy. She didn't. When she moaned again and nodded, he nodded, and his finger slid down. Her thigh twitched up, and his hand was down between her thighs, his finger finding her opening - wet opening, his finger slipping easily in her. She moaned louder with another nod. She didn't have to tell him anything. He moaned, and she felt his cock slide up her thigh. She was going to have to take care of it, wanted to, but not now, although she was already anticipating feeling it her mouth. Did she want to let him just do it, give her an orgasm, or would he want to talk, hear her talk? It didn't feel like his finger needed any instructions. "Uhn!" No, it didn't! It was just so good, being aroused without having to do anything, and almost just as good the other way - with him and Marlie, giving them pleasure. She loved knowing that she was just giving pure pleasure. "It's better to give than to receive." Hardly! Not when his finger or mouth or cock were arousing her! And the words before the collection in the church were the least appropriate thing to remember, when her father was fucking her with his finger! So deep in her pussy, deeper than hers or Marlie's could be, and two of Marlie's didn't feel as big as his one. He moaned when her pussy contracted on it, and she felt his cock twitch on her thigh. But her pussy wanted it to feel more like when his cock was in it. "Two," she murmured with a moan, then felt his finger draw back and another one join it, both plunging into her again, twining, twisting. It couldn't feel as good as his cock in her did, but it felt so good, feeling them wiggling - like hers enjoyed doing it in Marlie' tight pussy! She moaned; it was a little like their girl-girl thing, knowing how it was feeling for his fingers. Was his twitching cock also wanting to feel how her pussy was clutching his fingers? As though it wanted to keep them from moving, but wanting them to, her hips twitching to help them. Enough fingerfucking; he had proved that he could, and his cock wanted to. She moaned and rolled back. He had said it; she could: "Fuck me!" His hand followed her, his fingers still moving in her wet pussy. "Cock," she murmured, drawing up the thigh that had been on his, that had been squeezing his. Good Daddy! He rolled towards her, over her, and "mounted her." Where had she learned that expression, from the French? His cock plunged in her pussy, almost without his having to directed it, but he immediately had, as though he had been waiting for her to ask him, beg him to. He moaned and fucked, and her other leg drew, her thighs clamped around his waist, her feet hooked together again. She moaned in the appreciation that she had recognized how much that was part of fucking and let her rock her hips up to meet the thrusts of his cock in her pussy. He was going to have to suck her breasts some other time. His hands were again clasped under her shoulders, catching the jolts of her body, as his hips pounded against her ass. Come with me, she insisted in her thoughts, but it was just a hope that he would; she wanted her own orgasm too much to try to delay the arousal that was overcoming her, as she gasped and whimpered, hardly aware of his gasps and groans, as his cock pumped in her clutching pussy. God, yes! Her pussy was spurting! And he was grunting! Could she really feel his spurts in her pussy, like she loved to feel them in her mouth? Feel them or not, she knew they were there; her pussy was so wet, not just from her; she felt and knew that her pussy juice was what was running down to her asshole. Her father collapsed on her, still moaning. She hugged him, her legs dropping down on the bed. Maybe - surely - a girl shouldn't love her father like she did, the way they did, but since they did? And it was better than anything she could imagine. And he had said about the same. So be it. She squeezed his cock, and he nodded, almost as though he were agreeing with her. When she squeezed it again, after they had recovered, it slipped out. He nodded again, but with a chuckle and said: "Before you leak even more," and quickly moved back between her legs. When she understood that he wanted to lick her, she hummed with smirk and drew her legs up, rolling her hips up. His tongue lapped up from her asshole. When it twitched, she felt more liquid slip out of her pussy and made it contract again. His tongue found it and searched for more in her opening. She chuckled and tousled his hair, feeling her pussy contract again in response to his tongue's searching. After a last lick, he raised his head and gave her a wry smile, remarking: "Never thought I would do that, want to, but I make more stains on the sheet than your sweet juice does." "If you say so. Thanks. Maybe I was just sleeping alone, playing with myself, just wishing I wasn't." "Like the first night?" "No, but I might have after that, if we hadn't." "Without my noticing?" "Probably not." "And then I would have. Oh, we would have, if that had happened - somehow." "More fun, the way it did. Hm-hmm! But if you don't want more to lap up, I'd better go to the bathroom." "Me too," her father agreed with a grin. "Shower," she suggested, as she sat up. He nodded, and they hurried to the bathroom. When their streams arched out, they both chuckled. Then he reached down and let hers fill his hand, shrugging and murmuring: "If I can do that," and tasted her urine. "If you can," she replied and caught the last of his and tasted it. They both shrugged with wry smiles. She said: "Tastes better than you do." "Um-hmm, but not as good as you do," he replied and embraced her, looking for a kiss. Their tongues licked around the other's wet lips and then caressed for a moment. They started their shower, enjoying passing the soap back and forth and rubbing their soapy hands all over each other. They rinsed and dried themselves. When he turned to shave, and she was about to return to the room, he glanced back and said: "But don't wear the tightest shirt you have." She grinned, shaking her head, appreciating that he had remembered that she wasn't going to wear a bra. Her other polo shirt was the same size. She thought of wearing a thin blouse, but admitted to herself that it would be too provocative, especially the way she was feeling, thinking about sex, when nothing else distracted her. Nothing was, as she got dressed, cheerfully looking forward to the day in the museum, and on the way to it, a long walk, lots of guys who might enjoy seeing her. When her father joined her, she felt bad about having had that thought. There he was, naked, smiling at her, making her nipples pop out, nodding in approval. How could she think about other men, when she had him - had him every way a woman could? Yes, she was definitely a woman now, even if she was still her daddy's Kitten. No, especially because she was her daddy's Kitten. They had breakfast, nodding at the other guests. He had taken a copy of the International Herald Tribune, and they talked about the news, nothing to make her nipples pop out, and something to keep his eyes off them. She wondered if he had the same thought. They did pop out for a moment, but then relaxed. She recalled Marlie's more prominent nipples, thinking that they would show through her polo shirt even when they weren't aroused. They returned to their room and then set off. As they were leaving the hotel, her father smirked slightly and murmured: "If you're going to be like that, maybe I can see if you were right, that all the other girls are." She nodded with a smile, feeling less bothered about her having wanted guys to see her. They both enjoyed themselves. After the first couple of males noticed her, her nipples didn't pop out, unless the man or boy obviously smiled. When they passed the market on the way to the bridge across the Arne river, a young man at a stand, smiled and said "bella," holding his thumb and finger together. Her father scowled at him, but she heard him chuckle softly. She was also pleased that he saw that she had been right about the other girls. Once, he even murmured "very nice," but then was looking at a building. She chuckled, knowing that he was referring to the young blonde approaching them. On the old bridge, with its shops on both sides of the walkway, they looked at the displays of gold jewelry, wondering who bought it all. Then an April shower was threatening, and they hurried on to the Palazzo Pitti. In the picture galleries, they were overwhelmed by all the paintings. She showed off what she had learned in her course. Her father listened attentively. She noticed, however, that he was sometimes distracted, looking more at a group of young girls with a guide, who was speaking Dutch. Of course, there were nudes in some of the painting, but the ones with the biggest breasts were 17th century, fleshy women. Then in the middle of one large gallery, they found an over life-sized marble statue: "Vittoria" by Vincenzo Consani. They smiled at each other. While they looked at the pictures in the gallery, they chuckled softly, when they noticed one or the other of them taking another look at the statue. Before they left the gallery, they returned to read the label, discovering that Consani was a 19th century sculptor. On the way to the next gallery, he whispered: "Maybe the ideal figure in the last century was more like what I like." "Me too, as long as you only look at statues and pictures. Oh, you're right. In the course, well, more in art books in the library, we found plenty you would like. He couldn't have flashed them all up on the screen without suggesting that he liked to see them all, the French artists, especially." "Oh, even I have seen a few paintings by them. Mmmm! You're right, just naked girls standing there, or lying, just lovely nudes, no excuse that they're supposed to represent Victory - like here - or Architecture, yesterday." She nodded with a grin and drew her shoulders back. He looked and whispered: "Nor anyone's daughter." "Or maybe so," she replied with her impish smile. He scowled, but then nodded slightly, giving her breasts another brief glance. She wondered if he had seen that her nipples has popped out again. It was lunchtime, when they finally had been through all the galleries. When they were in the colonnade to the courtyard, they discovered that it was raining and had lunch in the museum restaurant. They still had other collections to see in the palace, and dutifully continued their tour. The only nude they saw, was a "very nice" statue on the far side of small courtyard, which they saw again through a window on the second floor. The objects in the exhibition were, however, interesting and a remarkable representation of the wealth that had collected them all. They both chuckled, when they caught up with the group of Dutch girls, who had obviously been caught by the rain, when they went out for lunch. Their damp shirts revealed which ones weren't wearing bras, most of them, the others with too much to go without. She enjoyed seeing them as much as her father did, looking for nipples that were like Marlie's, again pleased that her father could see - even better - that she had been right about other girls going without. When they left that part of the museum, it wasn't raining. They decided to forgo the other collections, since it looked like another shower could come along. As they returned to the Ponto Vecchio, the old bridge, the first drops came down. She remembered the Dutch girls, liking the thought that her polo shirt would cling, like a couple of theirs still had been. The first few drops were cold, and her nipples popped. Her father noticed and urged her to hurry along onto the bridge, where they could stand under the raised covers for the shop windows. When they stopped, he remarked: "Before you try to win the wet t-shirt contest." She scowled, but with wink, and shook the front of her shirt. "Didn't help much," he whispered and then looked in the shop window. After a few moments, he asked: "Want a souvenir from Florence?" "Something from here?!" "Why not? Better than something that has no value, ^that just says Florence, Fiorenza." "You mean it?" she asked, looking at all the glittering gold objects." "This is kind of special; I want you to remember it." She looked at him with nod, smiling slightly with hum, then whispering: "Very special." "Then let's find something you like," he replied. They went in the shop. The woman greeted them in English, and her father said that he wanted something for his daughter. The woman nodded and drew out a tray of gold pins. They looked at them, her father looking at the prices, and they exchanged glances. She shrugged; it was his gift. The woman drew out another tray. She thought the things looked more expensive. He looked at her again, and she shrugged again. He smiled and said: "What would you like, something you can wear?" "Maybe a bracelet or chain with a cross or something? The woman suggested. "A chain would be nice," she replied, giving her father a glance, who nodded. The woman presented a tray of chains: thin gold ones, just something to hang a cross or religious medallion on, like she had seen girls wearing. There were a couple on the tray that had larger links. She looked at her father and pointed to them. He smiled and ask the woman if she could show them more. She could, looking pleased. He glanced over at her and asked: "See one you like?" "Really?" "Well, most of them, I think," he replied, glancing at the ones with the heaviest links, something she thought only a man could wear. "Not them," she murmured, then pointing to one with a little larger links than those on the previous tray, adding: "If it's not too expensive." Her father picked it up and looked at the price tag. When he scowled, the woman smiled and said that she could let him have with a discount. She still had no idea what the price was, but her father asked her if she wanted to try it on. She nodded, and he handed it to her. She thought he could have put it around her neck himself, but that would have too suggestive of their relationship, and maybe the woman didn't really think she was his daughter. She fastened it and smiled at her father. The woman said that it was very becoming on her, that it looked just right for a girl her age. Her father agreed. While he paid, she turned away. "Oh, thank you, Daddy," she enthused and kissed his check. Outside the shop, with a wry expression, he murmured: "I hope she thinks I really am." "And if not, same difference," she replied softly. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 04 "Hmm! Maybe I should spank you right here, so she believes it." "Oh, Pierre spanked me once; maybe she wouldn't." He gave a resigned sigh. As they waited for the rain to stop, she fingered her new necklace and said: "I really like it. Thank you again." "Hmmm? Is that all the thanks I get?" he whispered with a slight smirk. "Not here, she whispered back, and they moved along under the protection of the other raised covers of the shops, exchanging smiles. At the last one, they waited with other tourists. The cloud passed over. They could see the next shower approaching, and started to return to their hotel. The shower caught up with them. She smirked and whispered: "wet t-shirt," and they continued in the rain. She was delighted that her father only smiled in response, glancing over and seeing how her shirt clung to her breasts and nipples, aroused from the cool moisture. She wondered if he also thought that they would be aroused without the rain. He had asked if that was all the thanks he was going to get, and she had said it wasn't. They both knew what kind of better thanks she could give him! She wasn't the only girl with a wet shirt. Some seemed embarrassed, but several others seemed to feel like she was, enjoying knowing that they looked almost as naked as all the statues. Why not? And the friends of a couple of those girls looked just as delighted - not just glancing at their girlfriend's wet breasts, but also at hers. Was her father also looking at theirs? Oooh, the darker shade of one girl's nipples could even be seen through her light blouse. Good thing that she hadn't worn hers; guys could see her nipples, but not like her father could. Soaked to the skin, they entered their hotel. He nodded for her to go directly to the elevator. She did, discreetly facing away from the lobby, but then the door opened and an older couple stepped out. The woman started; her husband couldn't repress a smile, and she couldn't either, realizing that her nipples had relax in the warmer room, but had popped out again. "Sorry, the rain," she murmured, then hearing the woman mutter "shameless," as they passed her. "Just another statue," she heard her husband reply. She grinned to herself, and her father joined her, chuckling as they got in the elevator, then smirking and saying: "I heard that: 'just another statue.' What had his wife said?" "'Shameless,' she replied, giving him a grin." "I hope so," he replied with a smile. "I think so, don't you?" "Past worrying about it," he murmured. She nodded with only the slightest smile, and he did. In their room, he suggested: "Hot shower," "And 'go'," she replied, as she pulled her soaked shirt off. They did, dropping their wet clothes on the bathroom floor and stepping in the shower. He turned on the water, as her stream arched out, then his. They chuckled, but didn't reach down. He looked at her and her new necklace and said: "Good choice; I like it, and somewhere we've seen a girl didn't didn't have anything else on." "Hm-hmm! 'Just another statue'." "Or painting, maybe one of Eve." "With a necklace? Oh, I think Lucretia is shown with a necklace and not much else." "But always with her dagger. She may have been shameless, raped or whatever, but even if I liked paintings of her, I don't like that story." "You haven't raped me. Maybe I'm not shameless ... Oh, she was, without shame for what happened, so I guess I am, asking about my kitten." "Nice soft furry kitten," replied, touching it. "I don't mind being shameless. Didn't you want to put the chain around my neck?" "I did, but not with her watching. As you said: 'and if not, same difference'." "Shouldn't have said that," she murmured. "No, but I didn't mind." They washed each other, mainly where their mouths could be, and suggesting that they might soon be. When he was rubbing her asshole, she hummed and asked: "How do you want me to thank you?" "Mmmm! The best way you can, if I can be so shameless." "Like me, shamelessly wanting to, she replied with a moan. "Mmmm! Tell me how." "Don't you know? I want to suck your cock - I am shameless, saying that! - and your balls, and there too, and when you've come in my mouth - thank you! - my wet kitten is going to want you to make it even wetter. And I want it all to flow in your mouth, my sweet pussy juice." "You are shameless! What a scenario, but what I was hoping, just as shamelessly." "Um-hmm! And then if your cock is sticking up again, I'm going to drop down and do it again." "Hmmm! And want me to, too?" "You'd better! With your head between my thighs, and our fingers ..." Her father nodded with long hum and murmured: "And I thought I was being shameless, the first time I slid my hand inside a girl's panties." "Hm-hmm! She let you. You never had to in mine, so maybe you're still not shameless." "I just thought I was, now I know I am!" They hurried to dry themselves and almost rushed back in the room. He flung back the covers on the nearest bed and sat down, spreading his thighs for her to kneel between them. Then it was like the previous time like that. She sucked cock and balls and licked his asshole, even better that before, and then made him come in her mouth, This time she didn't let him taste it, savoring and then swallowing, as she urged him to turn on the bed and let her straddle his head, facing his cock. She wanted her opening over his mouth, when his tongue made it squirt. He did, after licking her asshole, fondling her stiff nipples, and then arousing her, where they knew it would make her have her orgasm. His mouth was wide open, his tongue on his lower lip, arousing her, when she whimpered and gasped, feeling her pussy overflow in his mouth, feeling his tongue retract for a moment, as his mouth closed. She knew the reflex, he was having to gulp, like she did, when his first spurt landed deep in her throat. But then his tongue was back, wanting more, and getting it. She groaned. It had been good, very good, but not as good as his fucking her, but she had wanted it to be especially good for him, for his cock and to let him enjoy her pussy juice. He was nodding and moaning; he had. She opened her eyes. Yes, of course, his cock was sticking up, bobbing slightly. He rocked his hips. He remembered what she had promised and wanted it! Not more than she did! She dropped down, her mouth sucking in his cock without her having to use her hands. He moaned again with a nod. When her hands grasped his ass and urged him to roll on his side, he immediately grasped hers and pulled them with him, raising his head to let her thigh draw up under it. Such a fucking good Daddy, pussy licking Daddy, with such a nice cock, that he wanted to be sucked again! Could it want to be, more than she wanted to? And he wanted to lick her pussy. God, she was going to come again, before her finger found his asshole. But she didn't, before his had found hers, and then did, having to forget to suck and lick for a few moments! Then his hips twitched, and she sucked and licked again, her finger probing deeper. He groaned with a nod on her thigh, his tongue still. He had to come again, she willed, doing all she could to make it. He moaned. After a few moments, his finger probed in tempo with hers, and he began to lick and nibble again. She groaned in her throat with a nod, and then they were both doing everything they could. "Come Daddy!" she willed him, even if I don't again. But he was doing everything to make her. "Then not before you do," she willed again, fucking his cock with her mouth, her only thought: come Daddy, come! His hips rocked up. Yes, now, with your groans! Grunt! He did! She moaned, feeling him fill her mouth. He had, she had! But he was again licking and sucking her so sensitive little button. She nodded, thinking: let me have it again! He did. She gasped and rolled her hips back, and his rolled back, his cock slipping from her mouth. They both gasped and sighed with soft moans. It was a long time before one of them spoke. Then he murmured: "People who aren't shameless don't know what they're missing." "We do, that is, we aren't." she murmured. "We sure aren't," her father agreed and reached down and fondled her breast. "Um-hmm, but we keep forgetting that you should suck them." "Hmm, only have one mouth." "Pity, just a comment, better where it was." "And where yours was." She fondled his soft cock, then said: "Know why I like to do it so much?" "You want to tell me." "With Marlie too, it's just so good, knowing that I'm just doing it for you." "For her too?" "Um-hmm, and knowing that you both are just wanting to do for me. Oh, fucking is better. Sorry, but after I was sitting on you, I thought that. Of course, it is, but then at the end, I can't help but just wanting it for me, my orgasm - kind of selfish. Oh, I want you to have yours, but, well, I said it, having mine then is more important." "Hmm? Hmmm? You're right. Never thought about it before, couldn't have your comparison till now, with you. You are right; I love anticipating and then knowing you are having yours. And it tastes so good!," he added, fondling her breast. "Marlie's too." "Hmm? I know why, if she tastes as good as you do." "I think she does, if you don't mind my saying so." "If she likes yours as much as I do?" They both chuckled, fondling. Her father hummed and added softly: "And you like her?" "Of course, ... if you again don't mind my saying so." He fondled her breast again and replied: "Why should I. Hmm? I would probably like it too; I am sure I would." "You would," she agreed, then hummed questioningly and added: "Probably with this, too," and fondled his cock. They were silent for a several seconds, both fondling. Then he hummed questioningly and murmured: "Almost sounded like you wanted me to." "Hmm? Guess it did. . . . Hmm? If she wanted me to sleep with her brother, ..." "Funny, very funny, no, very ... - I don't know what, both ways." "Um-hmm," she agreed, realizing what she had implied. While they were silent again, she wondered about it: did she want her father to sleep with Marlie. Oh, it was impossible, but she didn't mind the thought that they could; Marlie had wanted her to sleep with her brother, and that had been very good - very good! - the three of them together. Could that happen with her father and Marlie?! Too impossible! "Doesn't one of us have to go?" he asked with a chuckle". "I don't think so," she responded, recognizing his suggestion that they should get up. "Anyway," he replied, sitting up. She nodded on his thigh and also sat up, feeling the chain move on her neck. She reached up and touched it, smiling at him and murmuring: "I'm going to love it; thank you again." "Your thanks before was enough, but it wasn't just about that, this." "But it was, also for this." Her father nodded with a smile. She smiled brightly and said: "Maybe I can wear it somewhere else, wrist, ankle," and unhooked it. He shrugged with nodded, watching her putting the chain around her wrist, discovering that she could wrap it around three times and hook it. She shook it, giving him a pleased smile. She unhooked it and draped it on her ankle. She could only hook it again with two loose loops around her ankle, but smiled again, dropping her foot off the bed and shaking it, proving that it wouldn't slip off. Then she chuckled and grinned at him and said: "Maybe you could wear it. Stand up." He did with snicker, standing close to her, apparently understanding what she meant. She nodded with another grin and drew the chain up behind his balls. She could only wrap it twice around his balls and cock. When she hooked it, it looked very loose. He chuckled and bounced with his legs, both of them watching and seeing that it might slip off. It did, when he bounced again. She caught it, and they both snickered. She glanced up at him with another grin, remarking: "Well, not when he's hanging down; maybe this way." She unhooked the chain and found that she could wrap it three times above just his balls. When she rehooked it, he bounced again. They grinned at each other, after seeing that it didn't slip off. He chuckled and said: "Maybe I could, but it's your chain." "But I'll remember how you could wear it." "And I, when I see it on you, remember how you wanted me to." They nodded with affectionate smiles. Then he reached down and eased one ball free of the chain. When it slipped off the other one, he unhooked the chain and put it around her neck and murmured: "The most appropriate choice you could have made." She nodded, and they took another shower with just affectionate attention to erogenous zones. When he rubbed the inside of her thighs, she hummed with a nod, clutching them together. When they were back in the room, he suggested she wear something that let him see her new chain, but with a bra. She hummed with a nod and put on the one that did most for cleavage, and a shirtwaist dress that showed it, when she left a button open. He smiled wryly and remarked that he had only wanted to see the chain, that they were going to have to find a restaurant that didn't cater to tourists in casual dress. He put on a coat and tie. When she suggested that the hotel restaurant sounded like what he meant, he smirked and replied: "Maybe, but not after some guests have seen your wet t-shirt 'just another statue'." She smiled, throwing back her shoulders, liking that he had responded with the compliment she want to hear. He returned her smile and murmured: "At least, they don't know that applies 'in all respects'." They exchanged smirks. She was even more pleased. They went to an expensive restaurant they had passed up previous evenings and had a four course meal with a glass of white wine and then a bottle of good Chianti. They had been early guests and watched others arrive, exchanging glances when they saw older and younger women who showed more décolleté than she was. After a few like that, her father raised his glass with a smile and said: "I think we have the 'very nicest' ... wine." She blushed with aroused nipples at his veiled compliment, spoken loud enough for others to hear, and raised her glass with a smile most daughters wouldn't give their father. After they drank, his smile was also not one a father should give his daughter. They finished their long dinner and had an espresso, When the waiter brought the bill and the expected grappo, the small glasses were fuller than those she had seen served at the adjacent table, but she had also seen that he leaning lower to serve her, than he had to serve an the older woman, and had seen that his eyes glanced down at her breasts. They did again, as he served her glass and then her father's, placing the tray with the bill on the table. When her father put his credit card on the tray, he gave the waiter a smile and said: "She's really my daughter." "Pity, the waiter replied with a shrug, returning his smile, as he took the tray. Her father nodded, then giving her a smile. Her nipples had popped out again. She thought it would have been fair that the waiter could have seen them. When he returned, waiting for her father to sign the chit, he smiled at her, they popped out again in her bra. Almost unconsciously, she rubbed her forearm over them, returning his smile. He grinned with a nod. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 05 Her father nodded, then giving her a smile. In her bra, her nipples had popped out again. She thought it would have been fair that the waiter could have seen them. When he returned, waiting for her father to sign the chit, he smiled at her, they popped out again in her bra. Almost unconsciously, she rubbed her forearm over them, returning his smile. He grinned with a nod. When they left the restaurant, her father said: "You didn't have to do that." "What?" "Rub your arm over your breasts; they didn't show." "You were looking?" "After seeing them popping out all day." "Why shouldn't he, at least, have known that they did again. He didn't know they did, when you said that I was your daughter; so I thought letting him think they did just for him kind of underlined that I was just your daughter." "Hmm! Female logic, but maybe you're right. That other older and younger couple didn't look like she was his daughter." "No, and she was beyond just 'very nice'." "Too 'beyond'." She took his arm and held it against the side of her breast. His elbow twitched against it, and he murmured: "just the 'very nicest'." They both hummed, and she pressed his arm closer again. He nodded with another hum, but pulled it away, and they returned to their hotel. She dropped her hand, when they turned the corner to it. In the elevator, her thighs twitched. He nodded and said that he had to go too. They hurried to their room, both chuckling as they went straight to the bathroom. She threw up the skirt of her dress and pulled down her panties and sat on the toilet, murmuring: "Just in time," watching her father fish his cock out of his trousers and shorts at the washbasin. They chuckled, looking at each other in the mirror, hearing their streams hissing. As he turned on the water, he said: "We ate too much; I hope you don't think we have to." "We did," she agreed, then chuckling and adding: "And I won't ask what we want to do now." "'To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub'." She laughed, squeezing out a few more drops, and replied: "I doubt Hamlet meant any kind of 'rubbing' that occurs to me, but 'to sleep, perchance to dream' sounds right." They smiled at each other in the mirror. She slid her panties off her legs, and they went to the room and got undressed, returning to the bathroom to wash. She was first, just having to take off her dress and bra, and was first back in the room, opening up the other bed and lying down. Her father returned, glancing at both beds. "Mine," she murmured, holding up the covers. He nodded with a smile. As he joined her, however, he murmured: "Just don't dream about that waiter." "Mmmmm! I'll try not to. Maybe about Pierre; I don't have to dream about you." He curled up behind her, holding her breast, and replied: "And probably wouldn't, like I didn't the first night, dreaming about your mother, but then being surprised that she was doing what you did." "Guess we shouldn't dream about each other, but that's a good idea, to wake up like that again." "Mmmm, yes, but no promises." "And even if we don't, we still could, like that. That was nice, 'very nice'." "Like this," he replied, his fingers extending and squeezing her full breast." "Not like that, if this supposed to be just 'to sleep, perchance to dream'." "Oh, all right, just couldn't help it." "Tomorrow." "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day." "Stop quoting Shakespeare. Don't know what that's from, but I don't like the second line." "I don't either, really inappropriate, sorry. Macbeth." "Before you remember another line from him, just hold my breast and go to sleep: 'to sleep, perchance to dream'." "You too, good night." "Good night." He squeezed her breast again, and she reached back and rubbed his hip. When her hand returned and held his on her breast, she snorted and murmured: "Maybe Shakespeare was right about the 'rub'." They both chuckled, but then were silent and fell asleep. In the early morning, he woke up, facing the other way, but with a morning woody. He slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom, glancing at the toilet, but then going in the washbasin as quietly as he could, his stream sliding down the side of it. When he returned to the bed, curling up behind her, she awoke and murmured: "Damn, now I have to, too," and rolled back and clambered over him. When she returned, he had moved over and was holding up the cover for her to join him. She smiled and said: "Good morning," and did, facing him. "Good morning to you too. It was like you wanted it to be, but I really had to go." "And now it isn't?" She reached down between them and found his soft cock and nodded, then murmured: "I still like it this way," as her fingers fondled, then gathered up his balls. "If you do, I do," he agreed, his hand slipping up between them and find her breast. "Me too," she agreed, her fingers just jostling his balls. "Nice," he murmured. "Very nice," she agreed, massaging them gently. "Um-hmm, also 'very nice'," he agreed, squeezing her breast. She chuckled and said: "I will ask now," her fingers finding his cock again. "What?" "What I said I wouldn't ask last night." "Oh? That again. We could get up and have an early breakfast." "Or not. I was thinking about right now," she replied, fondling his cock more purposely. "Oh, like that? Don't you think about anything else?" he asked, but unconsciously squeezed her breast again. "Oh, a lot of the time. I mean , like when we have and are dressed again - for about ten minutes, maybe an hour, if we doing something other than looking for 'very nice' nudes. They were your idea. Weren't you thinking about it then?" "Oh no, just pure art appreciation." "You could have fooled me," she replied with a chuckle, her fingers enjoying that his cock was filling her hand better." "I doubt it," he replied, letting his fingers rub her nipple. She hummed with a nod, and raised her thigh, wanting his to slide up between hers. When it did, she nodded again and squeezed it. He chuckled and murmured: "Just thinking about riding ponies?" "Not really, something better." "Hmm? If you want to do it like I think you meant, you won't be able to rub your nice thighs on me." "Can't have everything, but then you can finally suck my breasts again." "That's true," he replied, sliding his hand down to arouse her other nipple. For a few moments, they just fondled. When his cock was not just fully aroused, but also twitched, he hummed and murmured: "Do I need to make sure your, our kitten is wet?" Her thighs clamped together on his, and she murmured back: "Still a good idea." His hand slid down in the opening above his thigh. When his fingers slid between her pussy lips, he chuckled and asked: "You didn't know it already is?" "Pretty sure, but I wanted to feel your fingers in me again." "They want to, too," he murmured, and then one was. She moaned, rocking her hips up, as her pussy held it. His stiff cock surged in her hand. She wondered if he really wanted to let a second finger enjoy arousing her, knowing it would feel good, but his cock surged again. She murmured: "Your cock wants to, too." She rolled back, releasing his thigh. He drew it back and let her raise up her other thigh, as he nodded and agreed: "It does." She let go of his cock, as he moved down the bed to get it behind her hips. When he curled his up behind hers, her hand was waiting to help his cock find her wet opening. It did. When he held her far breast to push it deeper in her, she felt that his fingers was wet. She moaned, her own fingers feeling how moist her pussy was, where his cock had disappeared in her. His knee was urging her to raise her other thigh. When she did, his thighs drew up above and below hers, and he rocked his hips even closer behind her, his cock even deeper in her, making her moan, and then his thighs held hers to help him move his cock in her. She was never going to get an orgasm from just his fingers, she thought, but not disappointed; she and Marlie could do that. Now hers could rub her pussy, where his pelvis couldn't this way - and did. She didn't have remind him to suck her breasts; he had already rolled his shoulder over her and had found her aroused nipple with his mouth. She moaned with a nodded. And his hand, the one with the wet finger, was trying to do what his mouth and tongue could. And he was fucking her! Doing that with his mouth and hand, at the same time fucking her, arousing her where she most wanted to be. Not quite, but her own fingers were there, doing what they could from so much - too much - experience alone! Oh, she had been right! There was something selfish about fucking, her wanting to be aroused everywhere he could. Of course, his fucking cock was enjoying it too, but he was having to do three different things to give her what she wanted, and she was almost cheating by helping herself. But it was so fucking good! She was going to have to fuck and suck him a lot of times in returned. But that was also a little selfish, since she loved to make him come in her mouth, and when she fucked him - even when he was helping with his finger - it still ended with her being lost in the her desire for her own orgasm. She couldn't think any more, lost in the desire for own orgasm, hardly aware of his moaning exertion, just conscious that a wonderful cock was pumping in her pussy, that her nipples were being mauled, and that fingers were doing what only a girl's fingers could know how to do that good. She was gasping, holding her breath until his cock thrust in again, then exhaling sharply with moan and gasping again, as her hips rocked, trying to help his cock go as deep as it could in her clutching pussy. She had to have it! When he grunted and almost bit her nipple, her body convulsed. She gasped again and exhaled with a long, pulsing moan, as her body twitched again, and she felt her pussy flush around his cock. Oh God, finally, and so good! His cock was still plunging in her pussy, making her moan again, as she felt another spurt in her pussy, but now more conscious of his groans and where she was, that it was her father fucking her, had been fucking her. His cock was just twitching in her, and his shoulder had rolled back, his head on her shoulder, his hand just resting on her breast. Of course, her father - who else? - she asked herself, realizing that at the height of her climax, however, it had only been a nameless cock fucking her. How could she have forgotten? Her fingers slid down, touching his cock and feeling how wet she had made it. He - her father now - nodded with sighing moan and squeezed her breast. Her fingertips rubbed his cock. He nodded again, then, squeezed her breast again with a soft chuckle, and said: "Very nice." "Mmmmm! Um-hmmmm!" she agreed, also chuckling and replying: "In all respects, in every respect!" "What I meant," he enjoined, squeezing her breast again. She felt his cock retreating in her pussy and asked: "Do you want to save the sheets again?" "Hmm? Don't know if I could get there in time. Try to catch it with your fingers." She nodded with a snort and reached down further to get her fingers below his cock, and he rolled back. She snorted again, as her fingers covered her leaking opening. "Lots," she murmured, wiping her fingers on her hair and quickly reaching down to catch what she felt sliding down to her asshole. He chuckled and reached down and felt his balls, as her fingers wiped up again, and remarked: "And my sack is all wet." "Um-hmm! I know: 'very nice' - 'in every respect'!" He nodded. This time, her hand came up, and she licked her fingers, but then quickly reached down again. He chuckled. When she had wiped a third time and brought her hand back up, he grabbed it and put her fingers in his mouth, sucking and licking them. She hummed with a smirk, wiggling them. When he let her take her fingers out of his mouth, he nodded and said: "'In every respect' for me too," and then rolled back up over her and kissed her, their tongues both eagerly caressing. When he raised his head, he snorted and said: "If I can do that and like it ..." "As much as I do," she interjected. "Hmm? I doubt it, but if I do, I want to really taste what else comes out there." "Oooh! Didn't we already, agreeing that it tastes better - well - doesn't taste as strange?" "Not as strange as me, but not as good as you do." "And you want to? Like how?" "God, I'm being raunchy! Right in my mouth." "Hmm?! If you want to. Should have thought about that before I went." "Just wanted you to come back and let us do this." "Like I did. It won't be much now." "While I still want to," he replied, sitting up. They exchanged wry smiles and got up. In the shower, she shrugged, watching her father drop to his knees, crouching lower. He looked at what she had wiped on her pubic hair and murmured: "Not yet," and grasped the back of her thighs and drew her closer. While he licked, she thought: sure, raunchy, but if they both liked how they tasted, and also knew how that tasted, why not? She chuckled; he wasn't just licking, nibbling and sucking on her hairs. "I will too," she murmured. He looked up at her with an almost apologetic expression and nodded, then smiling. She watched him drop down on his feet, leaning down a little and holding his face to catch her stream. As she relaxed to let if flow, she hoped that it would be enough. It wasn't much, didn't arch out as strongly as when she really had to go, but he immediately moved his head and caught it, his tongue extended and letting it flow in his mouth. It sprayed on his face, when he had to close his mouth to swallow, reminding her of what happened when she had to gulp the first, strong spurt, when he came in her mouth. He only had to swallow that one time, just catching the last of her dying stream, not a mouthful, even though his mouth was turned up under her pussy, his tongue licking to find more. "Now me," she murmured, wanting to reassure him that she would, before he looked up again - with whatever kind of expression. It was a mildly wry one, as he wiped his mouth, then grasped her waist and stood up. "You don't have to, just because I did," he murmured. "Can't let you be raunchier than me," she replied, dropping to her knees and holding his cock up, waiting with her mouth open. He snorted with a nod, and a couple of seconds later his stream shot in her mouth. With her experience from sucking his cock, she managed to swallow without completely closing her mouth and then had her lips around the head of his cock for the last bit. Then she licked it and sucked his now small cock completely in her mouth, twisting her head to rub her nose in his hair, while her hand fondled his balls. He chuckled and remarked: "That's all you're going to get. She feigned a disappointed moan, until he added: "For now." She nodded, still sucking, but with cheerful, throaty chuckle. When she let his cock slip out, he reached down under her arms and helped her stand up. They looked at each other, shrugging, and then had their morning shower. When he washed her neck and played with the chain, she snickered and suggested: "You can wear it today." "Hmm! And if slipped off, down my pant leg?" "Oh, maybe I could make an extra loop around your cock?" "I'd rather not, have to think about all the time. ... Or was that what you wanted?" "That was your idea. Hm-hmm! I'd like to think that you were." "You would. We've got to do something today where we don't see anything 'very nice'." "Okay, but I'll be there," she replied with her impish smile. "Except for you," her father replied with a smile, his hands returning to her breasts, which he had already washed. She fondled his cock and added: "And you will be too, just as 'very nice'." "Hmm? Maybe we should go different ways for a day? But no, not after yesterday, all those guys looking at you, and then your wanting to show the waiter that your nipples had popped out." "Wouldn't have had to do that, if you hadn't insisted that I wear a bra." "Stop it! We're going together." They finished washing, and he started shaving. This time, she sat on the toilet, waiting for him to finish. When he noticed in the mirror, he shrugged, then after a few seconds, he asked: "Uh, are you, ... are you going to tell Marlie about us?" "Oh? I don't know. She'll probably ask how our trip was." "'Probably ask', yeah, of course." "That it was very good, lots of fun." "Is 'fun' in French ... like, well, suggestive?" "Hmm? I'm not sure. I guess it could be; probably depends on the emphasis or person's expression. Oh! She did raise her eyebrows, when she heard that it was going to be just you and me." "Hmm! Then she will probably ask, maybe repeating your 'fun' with raised eyebrows." "She sleeps with her brother - when they can - so, yeah, probably wondering about that." "Are you sure you didn't anticipate that we would?" "Really, no. But, well, after Christmas with them, it was easier to let it happen." "It sure was," her father replied, wiping and drying his face. They returned to the room, and she replied: "You let it happen." "And glad I did. It would have been hell being together for a week, after the subject came up, and then trying to deny that I wanted to." "For me too," she agreed. Her father returned to his original question: "And you think that she could imagine that we did, that we do?" "If she and her brother do?" "I guess so; couldn't really surprise her. Hmm? Probably like that we did, do, that you are like her." "Maybe something like that. Kind of hard not to tell her; she probably still would ask again - with raised eyebrows - wanting to think that we did, do." They still hadn't started to get dressed, naked, but only glancing at each other when the other spoke. Then she looked at her father, and their eyes met. He shrugged, after a moment murmuring: "If you want to tell her; probably easier than trying to lie." "If you don't mind? It would be; you know how we are." "Um-hmm, as intimate as we are, and she is with her brother. Write me about it." She smiled with a nod, and they started getting dressed. He nodded with a smile, when she found a blouse in her suitcase, still not wearing a bra. He just glanced out the window and said that it looked like it wouldn't rain again. They took their guide book to breakfast and decided that the Stibbert Museum, a bus ride from town, and that the Galileo and da Vinci Museums would be less than "very nice," just "very interesting," exchanging smiles, also because her nipples had popped out for the first time in her blouse. They set off to the Stibbert Museum and weren't disappointed, very interesting, but nothing "very nice." Her nipples popped out a few times, but because her father looked to see if they would, pleased with wink, when they did. When she wasn't busy with looking and reading labels, her mind wandered, wondering what she would tell Marlie: just that they had? Would she ask for more details? Would she want to give them to her? Could she refuse, if they were lying naked together and had just done as much as two girls could? Her nipples had popped out without her father's glance. If she said anything, Marlie would insist on hearing more. But it would be fun to tell her, okay, maybe a little bragging, but she could tell that it only happened because Marlie and she were together and Marlie had so generously wanted her to sleep with her brother. Of course, she wouldn't blame Marlie for introducing her to girl-girl sex and sibling, father-daughter sex. She avoided the words for that; it was just too good, at least, for both of them - and her brother and her father. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 05 On the bus back to Florence, she agreed with her father that the museum visit had been a very good choice, then returning to her thoughts. She didn't have to tell her what they had done in the shower - unless Marlie said that she and her brother also had. They had a better lunch, sharing their now usual half-liter flagon of house wine. She wondered if her father's choice of the better lunch suggested a lighter dinner, so that they wouldn't just go to bed like they had the previous evening. How many more days did they have together? Thursday today, Friday, Saturday, and then on Sunday the train back to Switzerland; three nights. Just three nights? Three long nights, and maybe two mornings; Sunday they had to start early. But then she would be back with Marlie, still with a day before her period started. God, she was lucky that it hadn't been this week! And she knew that Marlie was having hers, sort of convenient, since her brother wasn't at home; they couldn't have done much, anyway. She sandwiched those thoughts between eating and discussing with her father whether they wanted to go to the da Vinci or Galileo museum next. They agreed on Galileo, smirking when he said that that there could be paintings in the da Vinci museum. Was he looking at her breasts again or at her chain. She fingered it with a smile. They found the exhibits in the museum of Galileo's inventions adequately distracting. When they left the museum, still with time to go to the other museum, she wondered what either of them would suggest, not venturing to ask "the question:" What do we want to do now? But her father did! Had he smirked, grinned, just asked? She hadn't been looking at him. When she did, he just smiled, as thought it had been an innocent question. Had he forgotten the implication of that question? She was at a quandary about how to reply. She chose a half way innocent reply: "We could just go somewhere and sit together." "And watch the passing humanity?" "If you want to, but I have to go." When he raised his eyebrows, she added: "Somewhere, not like that." He nodded and replied: "Well, of course, without passing humanity." "I sure hope not!" she whispered. "Better take my little Kitten back home then." "Before she wets her pants," she whispered with suppressed smirk, and they hurried towards their hotel. On the way, she hummed and turned her head up towards his ear and murmured: "I think she already has." "Bad little girl; should have told me before." "Didn't know, before you asked." "Have to ask next time before we leave the museum." "'Next time' I'll just tell you, without your having to ask." "You need a spanking." "Oooh! Haven't had one in long time. Am I that bad again?" "Worse. Hmmm! Good thing I didn't want to give you one then, like you deserve now." "Lying over your legs?" "Sitting on my lap," her father replied." She moaned, nodding. When she couldn't be overheard, she whispered: "Remind me to wash all my panties." "Hmm? All of them? What are you going to wear?" "Just guess, a skirt." "You really do need a spanking!" he whispered. "Um-hmm!" she agreed cheerfully, doubly pleased that he had wanted them to go back to their room and wanted to her to sit on his lap and let him spank her. She wasn't going to slip off his lap, not with his cock pegged in her pussy - and her legs clutched around him! They soon were. They tried not hurry through the hotel lobby, but in the elevator, they both moaned, exchanging aroused glances. She really did have to go, her thighs twitching. In their room, she rushed to the bathroom, glad that she only had to reach up under her skirt to pull down her panties. He followed her, turning to the washbasin. She couldn't see his cock, but when it took a while before he could go, she smiled to herself, thinking that his cock had been aroused. When he could go, he started unbuckling his pants. She chuckled and slipped her panties off her legs and flipped them up at him and said: "Really wet." They landed on the edge of the basin. He picked them up and sniffed and said: "That's not my little girl's peepee." "No, your big girl's aroused pussy." "Really? What am I supposed to do with it?" he asked, swinging her panties, grinning at her in the mirror." "Lick it, enjoy it, but only until I can sit on your lap the way I want to." "And then I can spank you?" "Um-hmm! And anything else you want to do." Her father nodded with another grin and long, chuckling moan. It wasn't quite like she had imagined. While she was sitting on his face, wanting to move back and sit on his cock, he slapped her ass with both hands and didn't let her, holding her pussy on his mouth. She moaned with a nod, accepting that he wanted to finish what he had started that way. If that was his pleasure, it was going to be hers, too. His cock was still going to be there. Her pelvis twitched, making it difficult for him to keep his mouth where it had to be to let his tongue keep arousing her. His hands grasped the corners of her hips and tried to limit their movement, and she did too, now only wanting her orgasm, hearing him moan with her. They both got what they wanted: she, an overflowing pussy; he, his face flushed with what he couldn't catch in his mouth. She sighed with moans, forgetting about her wanting to fuck him, but then his hands were urging her to move off his face. Not just off his face, they were still pushing. She remembered his cock, envisioning how aroused it must be. She moaned again with a nod and helped move back down his body. His cock bumped in her crevice and twitched. It was aroused, like she had envisioned, and it wanted to be in her pussy, and now she wanted it in her, her pussy did. When his hand slid around to help it, she shook her head; she wanted them to find each other without help. His hand slid away, and she rocked her hips up, and it twitched against her pussy. Could it find her aroused opening? It twitched, and she rocked her hips. Almost! If she could just catch it twitching there! It wanted her to! There! She shoved her hips back on it and moaned. She had, her pussy had, it had, sliding in her! Oh, her eyes had been clenched shut, now wide open, seeing her father's wet face and aroused expression, as he rocked his hips up, and hers descended, her pussy tightening on his twitching cock, now deep in her pussy. All the way in; her hips were resting on his. They stared at each other, nodding, then moaning, when his cock twitched and her pussy squeezed it. She moaned again and murmured: "I still want it, my spanking." "You deserve one," he replied and sat up. From the tone of his voice, she wondered if he meant that she deserved it as punishment for her wanting him to fuck her, or because she had let him taste her orgasm and now wanted to reciprocate by doing what she had said she wanted. Or maybe, he only had wanted to say that? His arms were around her, and hers around him. Sitting on his thighs, she had to tilt her head down a little to kiss him. Their tongues caressed, then took turns fucking in each other's mouth and being sucked. When he also chuckled, she knew that he was also thinking that they were fucking - feeling his twitching cock was in her tight pussy. She drew her knees up and got her legs around him, humming as she tightened her thighs around him. He chuckled, retrieving his tongue from her mouth and asked: "Riding your pony?" "Mmmm! More like riding a stallion. Hm-hmm! But I guess mares don't want to have their legs around one." "Not the way stallions do it." "No! Oh! I once saw a stallion's. Wow! As long and thick as your arm - mine, at least." "Saw it with all your pony camp girlfriends?" "Um-hmm! Before any of us - I hope - had any idea about this." "I sure hope so; you couldn't have been more than thirteen." "I sure didn't." "My nice little Kitten. ... Mmmm! Now 'very nice' big Kitten." "Hold them, suck them," she murmured: Her father's hand slid around and did. When she leaned back, his hands caught her, and he lowered his head and sucked and licked her nipples. For a moment, she had a pang of guilt for again asking him to arouse her, but when his sucking and nibbling made her pussy contract, and she felt his cock surge, she rationalized that it was being as good for him as it could be, and that sucking her nipples was also arousing for him, like it was for her, when she sucked Marlie's so suckable nipples. She hung back on his hands, enjoying the arousing sensations. Then he let her nipple pop out of his mouth and drew her back up with a chuckle and said: "Almost forgot; you wanted me to spank you." One and then his other hand did, slapping so hard on the tight cheeks of her ass, that she said "Ouch!" But his slaps had made her hips twitch, moving his cock in her pussy, and her thighs had clutched against his waist. It had felt arousing! Did he know that? His cock surged in her pussy, and it squeezed it. "More, again," she murmured. His hands slapped against her ass just as hard. She just moaned sharply, nodding, anticipating his next spanks, and got them, moaning with another nod, and getting more. Her pussy love it, clutching his cock and feeling it surge. They had to really fuck! For him too, he had also moaned! She leaned against him, drawing her legs aside and forcing him to lie back, and demanded: "Fuck me!" as she got her feet back by her hips. His hands slapped on her ass again, and his hips rocked up. Good Daddy, she thought, groaning, as hers rocked down. Best Daddy! His fingers were finding her asshole! One of them especially! It was still going to be unfair, her wanting his finger there and knowing that she was going to forget everything except how good his cock was feeling in her pussy. When they both had had their orgasms, however, his first words were: "You shouldn't fuck me that good." She had collapsed on him with the same thought, remembering that he was her father. She gave a long, moaning sigh and murmured: "You shouldn't either." "Hmm? But if I wanted to?" "Like I wanted you to?" "Too good to talk about." "Um-hmm," she agreed, nodding on his shoulder. He rubbed her ass and back, hugging her. She nodded again, and they just lay there, almost dozing. After several minutes, she was roused, when his hand slid back down and rubbed her ass. She recognized then the his cock had slipped out her pussy, wondering if it had just dripped on his cock. His hand fondled the cheek of her ass, and then he murmured: "You're going to make some guy very lucky." She was shocked by his remark, but understood his thought; she didn't want to think about that. Was she supposed to reply? What? She shook her head on his shoulder slightly. "You will," her father murmured. "Don't want to think about it," she murmured with her lips close to his neck. "Okay, sorry, shouldn't have mentioned it," he murmured. She nodded, and they were silent again. But she was wondering: "some guy," of course, she was eventually going to sleep with someone else - a student at her college in the fall? A freshman as inexperienced - absolutely inexperienced - as she had been a year ago? But she was now a year older, with an older student? She didn't want to think about it, not while she was lying on her father, who fucked her better than anything she had imagined, even after her nights with Pierre, Marlie's brother. What would she think about her sleeping with her father? Better not think about that either. "If no one has to go, we could still get up," her father murmured, ending her reverie. She nodded and moved off him, her thigh still on his, holding it, as her arm hugged him. His arm behind her also hugged. They both hummed, then sat up, smiling sweetly at each other. His eyes dropped down to her breasts, then looked at her chain. He chuckled and said: "Put it around your breasts, one of them at least." She smiled, unhooking it, liking that he had brought their thoughts back to their relationship - however that should be described. She smiled again, looping it under them both and drawing the ends together. They both chuckled, when they saw that they wouldn't meet. She pulled on the ends, making her firm breasts move a little, but then the chain slipped over one of them. They chuckled again. Her father took the chain from her, sliding it off her other breast and touching her already aroused nipple. They smiled at each other. He told her to lie back down and then draped the chain around one of her breasts, able to hook it with two turns around it. They smiled again, and she raised her head, pleased to see that the chain was close around her firm breast, not down on her chest between her other breast, and not below the swelling of her breast at her side. "Very nice," her father said, rippling his fingers over her nipple, then adding: "One of those French painters should have had the idea." "With you looking like that?" "Hmmm! Maybe not me, but a young man should be there in the picture to show that he gave her the chain and wanted to see it like that." "Just young man? I like thinking he was old enough to suggest that he could easily afford such a nice chain." She touched it, tracing it around her breast. Her father nodded and replied: "Would have made the painting more attractive to men like that, one who could pay more for it. You want to be the model for it?" He glanced down her body. She snickered and replied: "But not for Courbet's 'The Origin of the World'; she has too much hair." He looked at hers and then back at her face with a shrug and replied: "You don't, if you think she did. Strange title; what did the painting show?" "Hmm! Not much else, just a view up her body, with all her black hair hiding what was between hr thighs." "That Origin of the World! Bet you didn't see it in your course. I like yours better." "Me too. No, not in our course, of course, and not in earlier art books, but a girl knew about it and found it in a recent book in the public library." "And you all rushed to see it?" Marlie and I didn't rush; we had seen each other's." The other girls hadn't?" "Not like we had." "Could have thought that. Hm-hmm! Any with that much black hair?" Hmm? I don't think so. Maybe Courbet wanted to be sure nothing showed - from the viewers' point of view, looking up between her legs." "Hm-hmm! Like I can," her father replied, leaning back so that he could between her legs. She rolled them apart with a chuckle, remarking: "You already know it's pink." He sat up with a smirk and agreed: "I know, just wanted to check to see what he couldn't show in his painting." "The other French paintings we found didn't show any hair." "Mmmm! Just, well, you know, a slit." "Hm-umm, but you like the statues ..." "And yours," he interjected. She smiled sweetly and continued: "Didn't want to say that, but no slit." "Maybe down under what I like about yours?" "Hmm? Maybe the artists' ideal, like the classical sculptors'." "Going to have to look again, at yours, just for art appreciation." She rolled her thighs apart again, but her father just glanced. Then he asked: "And Marlie's, ... since you both didn't have to rush to see the one in Courbet's painting?" She smirked at him and asked: "You want to see it?" He looked abashed, shaking his head, then murmuring: "Since you said that you two didn't have to rush to see Courbet's painting." "Not like his - the one in the picture - more like mine." "Nice, 'very nice'." His smirking made her nipples pop out, and she clenching her thighs together. He noticed and remarked with a smile: "Didn't want to arouse you. Shouldn't have asked about hers." She nodded with a grin, but replied: "Told you already, I like hers; you would too." "Never saw one I didn't like," he murmured. She nodded with a slight smile, wondering if he was deflecting from her suggestion that he could like to see Marlie's pussy, but thinking that he was right; she would like any cock she saw. When he then muttered: "Shouldn't have mentioned her," she nodded, not so much in agreement, more because she thought he was curious about Marlie's pussy. She shrugged and replied: "Maybe not, but she would probably like to see your cock, well, one like yours." "Leave me out of this," he replied with chuckle, then after a moment asked: "What are you going to tell her?" "About your cock?" "Hmm? I guess that too, guess you will, if you tell her anything else." "Mmmm! That is 'very nice', in 'every respect'." "Oh shit! I shouldn't have asked." "I'll only say that, if she asks." "Hmm! You said she would." She was still lying there, looking up at him, and nodded. He made a wry expression and replied: "Enough of this; I'm beginning to envision you two lying there talking about me." "Mmmm! Probably like that, but don't think that we can just any time we want to." "Well, that's good, it was beginning to sound like it. Time for a shower and to get dressed for supper." She nodded and got up, and they did, just incidentally "going," as they washed each other. Her father had said "supper" and nodded, when she put on her polo shirt without a bra. In the elevator, he said: "Just don't let them pop out in the lobby." "If that man looks at them again?" she asked with a sly smile, rubbing her arm over her breasts, since they had. "Hmm! Just look straight ahead, and I'll catch up with you at the door." They had the tourist special two course meal in a restaurant, agreeing to have a beer instead of their usual wine. When they had a second one, another large one, she winked and murmured that he knew how she was going to have to go. He nodded, returning her wink. She smirked, and he did. They weren't offered a grappa in that restaurant. When he suggested that they look at the cathedral in floodlights, they did, holding hands. She wondered if they were just waiting till they felt that they had to "go," liking the thought that it had been his suggestion, that he wanted to be raunchy again - even before they did anything else. She did, and that thought made her feel like she did. "Better go back to the hotel," she murmured. He squeezed her hand with a nod, and they walked a little faster, again dropping hands, when they were closer to the hotel. In the elevator, her thighs twitched. He nodded with a grin. She scowled and said that she had wanted to go first. He nodded again and said that he would try to save it for her. In their room, they chuckled, nodding as they stripped off their clothes as fast as they could, just letting them drop. She reached down and held her pussy lips together and murmured: "Before I drip." "Don't," he replied with a grin, and they hurried to the shower, she, a little awkwardly with her hand there. He dropped to his knees and crouched down, waiting for her to move her hand. Her stream sprang out, and he got his face in it, then catching it in his mouth. When he had to swallow, she chuckled and tried to stop her stream, not before it splashed on his face. She managed to hold it for a couple of seconds, until his mouth was open again. When she let it spring out again, she noticed that it was almost colorless. He had to swallow again, and got it on his face, before she could hold it. He had to swallow even another time, but this time she just let it flow; his face was already as wet as it could be. He caught the last of her dying stream, following it up and licking. She hummed with a nod, enjoying the sensation, although his tongue wasn't where she was most sensitive. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 05 He looked up at her with grin, licking his lips. She was surprised that only one of his hands grasped above the point of her waist to help him stand up, but then saw that his other hand was squeezed around his cock. He now had to go as bad as she had. He saw her glance and nodded, remarking: "Tastes good, well, not like anything much, not as good as you do." She dropped down and let him aim his cock at her open mouth and then let it flow. He had been right, didn't taste like much, a little salty, but not salt water at the beach. She managed to gulp without closing her mouth completely, and had to again - and again - hearing him chuckle. Was he wondering that she could do that? She had to do it again, and then she had her lips around the soft head of his cock, sucking and licking. With a cock in her mouth, she just naturally had to, but then she heard its owner, recognizing her father's voice: "I want to, too, really taste you." She nodded, shaking his stiffening cock. His hands helped her stand up, and she murmured: "And want to really taste you." A few seconds later, the other bed was open, and they were lying cock in mouth and tongue in pussy. God! She loved it this way, because it was her father's cock in her mouth? Marlie's brother's cock she had loved to suck just as much. Any cock? Because her father's tongue seemed longer that his, definitely longer than Marlie's, but that didn't matter, since Marlie's knew so well what her - another girl's - pussy wanted. No more questions; she wanted to taste this cock's - she remembered, her father's - filling her mouth with that thick, pungent fluid that proved that she had given it its orgasm. And that long tongue - her father's - was wanting to give her hers. Sucking and licking a cock was so good, felt so good in her mouth, felt so good with her tongue, its firm, slick head. Sucking it the other way, her tongue licking that funny little ridge of skin, which always made it twitch, was more interesting for her tongue, but the cock was twitching just as much this way. And that tongue was making her hips twitch; it could lick where she was most sensitive and wanted to feel it. And it was almost as arousing to feel it probing in her wet hole. She knew how it felt for the tongue and knew how good it tasted, like when hers was tasting Marlie's wet pussy. Which of them was going to taste more first? Which one let the other one taste more first? His tongue was being as eager as hers. She could roll her hips back and escape the efforts of his tongue, but they didn't; her pussy didn't want to, and she wasn't going to let his cock out of her mouth. His tongue won. Or did she let it, have to let it? Her hips twitched, and she moaned, forgetting to lick and suck, feeling her arousal pass the point of no return. She had to have it! Give it to me, she willed, moaning, groaning as she felt her orgasm start to take control of her body. Now! Her contracting pussy clutched tighter. Why wasn't there a cock in it to hold?! But then she felt it flush her pussy juice. Finally! His nose was blubbering in it, but he was also moaning in his throat; he had wanted it too! His hips rocked, moving his cock in her mouth. He wanted his too, of course, and she began to suck and lick again, relieved that his tongue wasn't distracting her. Now she could give him his, make his cock thrust in her mouth. It did, and she grasped it, trying to squeeze like she had wanted her pussy to. Give to me, she willed, for a moment recognizing her selfish desire, but then reminded by his groans that he was wanting to. She was doing this for him, for his surging cock. She wanted to hear his grunt and feel it shoot deep in her throat! He did, and it did! Right in her throat, making her almost bite his cock with her teeth, as she gulped with a throaty noise. More now, so that I can have it in my mouth and taste it and know that it was a lot, she willed. It was, as strong and thick and large spurts as she could remember, loving that it had been so good, only then - when she heard his moans - remembering that it was for him. She savored it, swilling it with her tongue around the head of his cock, pleased with her success. He rubbed her ass and then slid his hand up and held her breast. She nodded with his cock still in her mouth, then heard him murmur: "God, that was good. Maybe I still like it best this way, at least, as good as you do it." Her father's voice again! Of course, how could she have forgotten? She couldn't entirely agree with him, as good as it had been; a pussy just had to have a cock in it, but her mouth as good as a pussy? If he could think so. She sucked and licked. He chuckled and said: "I told you before, that's all you get." She nodded and rolled back, swallowing and then replying: "It was enough, thank you - the other way too." "Thank you, also both ways," he agreed and fondled her breast. She chuckled and said: "I know, before you say it: 'very nice, in every respect'." He pinched her nipple, just nodding on her thigh. She nodded on his, and they lay there, looking at the ceiling. They were silent for so long that she wondered what her father was thinking, maybe what she was, about their so unexpectedly "very nice" week together - "in every respect!" - better than very nice: a fucking great time! She was chagrined at her spontaneous choice of word, didn't like that she used that expletive, but it was too appropriate. What was he thinking. His hand was still resting on her breast. His fingers moved, as though they were recognizing where his hand was. Then they held it, and he murmured: "I wonder what she's going to think, when you tell her." That was what he had been thinking about, not entirely unrelated to her own thoughts. She put her hand on his and replied: "That I was very lucky, am very lucky, ... at least for two more days." "Uhmm, um-hmm. Is that all? It won't 'bother' her, I mean, you and me?" "Why should it, she and her brother?" "I guess so, hope so." "She sort of suspected, ... well, when she raised her eyebrows. She shouldn't really be surprised. Hmm? Maybe she'll be a little envious." "She should be," he replied, squeezing her breast. "I think so too," she agreed and held the back of his hand. They were silent again. The he chuckled softly and said: "Going to be a little funny meeting her again, if she assumed that we could." "Maybe you won't see her." "But maybe she'll want to see me, us together, if she's curious." "You don't have to kiss me goodbye the way we do now." "Even if I want to?" he replied with chuckle, squeezing her breast again. "I won't expect it, just want you to." They both chuckled. Then he murmured: "Just two more days." "Um-hmm, and a long train ride," she agreed, pressing his hand on her breast, and he squeezed it again. They were silent again. Then she asked: "What do we want to do tomorrow?" "Mmmm, what we want to do, if you had ask: 'do now'." "That too! I want to wake up like the first morning, but then?" "The da Vinci museum and something else in the guide book." "That's enough, for a start, and 'do now'?" "To sleep, perchance to dream." "If you promise I can wake up that way." "I hope so. Hmm? If you want to, like that, maybe we should try now, and hope that we have to 'go' in the middle of the night, so we don't feel like we have to in the morning." "Thanks for planning ahead," she agreed with a warm hum, and one of them turned around so they were both lying with their heads on the pillow. He turned out the lights. She urged him to roll back and curled up next to him with her head on his shoulder, then urging him to draw his thigh up between hers. When he did, she squeezed it and put her arm around him. Then she snickered softly and said: "Now I remember: even as a kid, I liked to sleep with my teddy between my legs, and then later, that big stuffed elephant." "Hmm! With his trunk curled up you know where?" "That never occurred to me; I just liked to have him between my legs." "Before or after you started riding ponies?" "After, but my teddy before." "Good thing that you didn't know why." "But I do now," she agreed, squeezing his thigh again and hugging him. Then her hand slid down his side and over his cock. He snorted and murmured: "You said you just wanted to in the morning." "I do; I just want to hold them." He shrugged under her head, and her fingers gathered up his balls and cupped around them under his cock with her thumb resting on his hair at the base of his cock. He nodded and said good night, and she responded with just a gentle jostle of his balls. They dozed off. She was dreaming. She was in bed with Marlie with her thigh between hers, and holding her breast. They had lain like that in school, but not sleeping, which she somehow knew they were, so they must be in Marlie's room at Christmas, where they had slept together every night. Nice, were they going to do it again in the morning, like they had, before she had turned around on the bed and gotten so comfortable with her? Oh? But it didn't feel quite like Marlie's breast in her hand, but still nice and warm to have in her hand, and something moved. It couldn't be her breast, something under her thumb moved. Pity. What could it be? Or was she lying with Pierre, Marlie's brother? Then she must be holding him the only place she could like that with her hand. That was also nice, and very logical, explaining what she had felt move. Then they could in the morning, even nicer. Her thumb and fingers contracted slightly. Yes, definitely, her fingers were around his balls, and her thumb felt that his cock was firmer than it had been when she fell asleep. But she had been thinking she was holding Marlie's breast; how could she remember now - could have forgotten - that she was holding his balls? Puzzling? She must be dreaming, and still wanted to, but slowly recognizing that she was waking up. "Time to go peepee," she heard murmured, still wanting her dream to continue, then recognizing her father's voice. Her fingers slid up and encircled his stiff cock, as the last vestiges of her dream faded. Of course! She was in bed with her father, just dreaming. Fully awake, she squeezed his cock and nodded, now delighted at what he had said, recalling their conversation and squeezing his cock again. "Just go peepee," he murmured and rolled away. She raised her head to free his shoulder, then released his cock. His thigh slipped away, and she then also felt the urge to go. As he got up, she chuckled softly at how her dream had wanted to make sense of where her hand had been. Why not immediately dream that she was holding her father's balls, but that first night he had been dreaming that he was in bed with her mother? Still thoughts about who they were? But not when they were awake. "Me too," she murmured and followed him, blinking when he turned on the light in the bathroom, then watching him. He had to stand waiting till he could aim his still engorged cock in the toilet bowl. While he waited, he glanced over with a shrug and said: "The way we wanted." "Um-hmm," she agreed, nodding with a smile, liking that he had remembered and that he had confirmed her thought, that when they were awake, they didn't have any problem with who they were and what they did. He returned her nod with a smile, and then looked down. A moment later, she saw his stream arch out. Her thighs twitched. Before it died down, she wondered if she was going to have to hold her pussy lips together. She didn't; he immediately stepped back to let her use the toilet, smirking slightly, as they both heard her strong stream hiss in the bowl. "And why did you chuckle?" he asked. When she told him about her dream, he grinned with a nod and repeated her: "holding him the only place you could like that with your hand." "Don't think I ever really did, at least, not going to sleep with him like that." "I don't know who was holding them, but it was nice, like when we went to sleep." "You were dreaming too?" "Just very briefly; I guess trying to explain why I felt your fingers move." "Hm-hmm! And then?" "Well, sorry, but I guess I was trying to make the dream fit what happened that time, but then realized that it had to do something else, why we're here." "And wanted to be," she agreed, wiping her pussy. Her father chuckled suddenly and said in the tone of an advertisement: "Drink more beer and have better sex in the morning." She laughed, feeling a couple of more drops after she had wiped, laughing at his so witty comment, then moaning with a grin at his having absolutely confirmed his agreement that they wanted to have sex. Her nipples had popped out. He was grinning at her, pleased with her response. She wanted to jump up and hug him and say: Daddy, you're so great! She didn't; wrong time to call him "Daddy." Instead, she circled her nipples with her fingers, enjoying the arousing sensations, still grinning at him. He hummed, nodding, returning her grin, but said: "It's not yet morning." "Pity," she agreed with a smile and rubbed her forearm over her nipples. When she stood up and turned to flush the toilet, he slapped her ass. She started with a squeal, missing the handle to flush. She founded it and turned to him, remarking: "You said it's not yet morning." "But when it is, and the way you want to do it, I can't do that." "Oh Daddy! You're as terrible as me," she replied, only then realizing that she had said "Daddy," but he just chuckled and replied: "I'll take that as a compliment from my Kitten, more like a tiger kitten," and held out his arms. They embraced, chuckling. She scratched his back with her fingernails. His body stiffened, and he said: "I shouldn't have added that." "If you slap my ass?" "Okay, tit for tat." "What are tats? I know what tits are." "I do too, know two of the very nicest ones," he replied, hugging hers tighter to his chest. She hummed, just rubbing her hands up and down his back, down on the cheeks of his ass, rocking her hips up against his and looking up for a kiss. His lips pursed, but he nodded and said: "Still not morning, and if you want it to be as good as I do, ..." "Mmmm!" she hummed, nodding, clasping their hips together. "Back to bed then, ..." "To sleep, perchance to dream," she added. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 06 They were embracing in the bathroom. She hummed, just rubbing her hands up and down his back, down on the cheeks of his ass, rocking her hips up against his and looking up for a kiss. His lips pursed, but he nodded and said: "Still not morning, and if you want it to be as good as I do, ..." "Mmmm!" she hummed, nodding, clasping their hips together. "Back to bed then, ..." "To sleep, perchance to dream," she added. As they loosed their embrace, he murmured with a smile: "Even if you don't dream of me." "Or you, of me. ... Just be there, where I want you." Her father nodded and turned off the light. Without further words, they returned to the bed in the dark. As he curled up behind her, and his hand found her breast, she sighed with a soft moan, feeling his head nodded on the pillow behind hers and his hand squeeze her breast. It was going to be difficult for her to go back to sleep after the arousal from their talking and from feeling his naked body nestled warm behind hers. She suddenly remembered a verse: "The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads" They weren't children, but were nestled all snug in their bed, just one, but more snugly. And her visions weren't of sugar-plums. Or could a pair of balls be a pair of plums? As a kid, she had once put a small plum in her mouth and suck and licked it, hoping it would taste sweet. It did, when she bit it, but she wasn't going to bite her father's balls. Now she wanted to believe the plum had felt like the balls she had sucked, Pierre's and her father's. It must have, about the same size and shape. Have to remember try that that the next time she could eat a plum, and remember to tell Marlie and her father. Briefly, she wondered if there was any fruit or vegetable that was like a cock, just pleased with having found plums for balls, but then did fall asleep. She was dreaming again. She was in an open air market looking at displays of vegetables. It seemed to be the one in the town where the finishing school was; she had been there shortly after she arrived in the fall. Why was she there? She was looking for something, but she didn't cook, never had. What was she looking for? The carrots looked nice, especially the ones that weren't too small. And the cucumbers also looked nice, but they seemed for some reason too big. But at the next stand she saw some small cucumbers that she liked better, nice green ones, the size to make salted pickles, but she didn't cook, much less, make pickles. What was she looking for? At another stand she saw long white things, remembering that the German girl had said that they were a type of radish popular in Bavaria. That stand also had dirty looking long black things, about the same size. She didn't like them, but somehow they still seemed attractive. She liked the white radishes better, but the small cucumbers seemed even nicer. Why couldn't they also be white? She wanted to hold one, just wrap her fingers around it, but, of course, she couldn't pick one out of the display. Why did she want to, why was she there looking for vegetables like that, when the shiny apples looked so attractive? Her dream faded away with her unanswered questions. She was awakened by fingers squeezing her breast. After the nights in bed with her father, she immediately knew it was his hand holding it, before she felt his body move slightly and heard him chuckle and murmur: "The way you wanted to wake up, the way we wanted to." His body moved again, and she was then aware that his cock probed between her thighs. She grasped his hand on her breast and nodded with a delighted hum. His cock probed again. She was going to have to help it. She let go of his hand and quickly reached down between her thighs. Her fingers searched for the head of his cock. He hummed and moved to push it deeper between her thighs. They both hummed, when her fingers found it. She felt him move his body down the bed a little to let her fingers get it in her pussy. Her fingers pressed it up, and he rubbed it there, but she knew it wasn't yet aroused, wanting it to be, but wanted for it to be wet enough to let his cock slip in easily. "Not yet," she murmured: "just rub like that," a little surprised at her instruction, but he did. Good Daddy, she thought, wondering how many times she had thought that. Oh, she wanted his cock in her pussy! Her fingertips touched the back of the head of his cock where it was most sensitive. It twitched. He moaned, and she moaned, willing her pussy to go all moist. It did from her aroused anticipation and the rubbing of his cock. "Now," she murmured and pressed his cock up between her pussy lips. He nodded with a moan and and let her find her opening, then pressing his cock in it. They both gave satisfied moans. It was there, in her! He moved down again, and it went deeper, and they moaned again - now securely in her! Her hand slid over her hip and held his; now it was there. They both moaned again, feeling it surge and her pussy squeeze it. She chuckled and murmured: "Good morning." "Good fucking morning," he replied with a hum and rocked his hips up. "Oh Daddy!" she blurted, then apologizing: "Didn't want to say that, that way, but it is. Fucking good morning." "Now we've both said it. Isn't it?" "Just surprised that you said it." "Me too, now." "Hm-hmm! So do, just a little." His hips rocked slowly, and she moaned with a nod and murmured: "Like that." Then she suddenly giggled, recalling her dream and understanding it. "What was that about? I didn't tickle you," her father asked in surprise. "No. I suddenly remembered my dream." "And?" "Hmm? Long story; you're going to have to fuck me like this for a while." "Nothing I would rather do; tell." "That's good. Hm-hmm! When you curled up behind me in the night, I suddenly remembered something from "The Night before Christmas." "Hmm? Just the thing for a girl to think of when her daddy is curling up naked behind her." "Yeah, nestling, comfy: 'The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads'." "What occurs to you!" "Um-hmm, and we're not children and only one bed, but then I tried to fit sugar-plums in; remembering that I once put a whole plum in my mouth and then thought that it must have felt like having one of your balls in it." "Hm-hmm! Well, I guess so. And your dream?" Well, I was thinking that I had to remember that, the next time I ate a plum, and then wondered about other fruits, vegetables." "Plums, cherry tomatoes, radishes?" "Good idea, but I wanted them to be like your cock, any cock." "Don't say that, when it's mine in your pussy." "Sorry!" "I can think of a few; didn't you?" "Fell asleep, just liking plums. Oh! Sugar-plums? What about yours with a sugar icing or just powdered sugar?" "I thought you liked them like they are." "I do, just a thought. Fuck." His hips had forgotten to, and resumed moving his cock in her pussy. Then he asked: "And your dream?" "Funny. I was in an open air market looking for vegetables, wondering why I was liking the carrots. Of course, now I know why, but not in the dream. The small cucumbers were also very attractive, and then some things I haven't seen in the States." "Hmm! Rude of you to tell me that, while my cock is in your pussy." "You asked about the dream." "And you wanted to tell me. Can't we just fuck, without my worrying if you think a large carrot or larger, small cucumber could be better?" "I just wanted them to be the right size, wanted to hold a cucumber in my hand." "Just hold my 'small cucumber'," he replied, thrusting his cock deeper in her pussy. "There were a lot of smaller ones," she murmured apologetically and squeezed his cock with her pussy. Her father began to fuck her a little harder, and his hand slid down on her pubic hair, exploring her mons veneris, but then sliding down between her pussy lips and rubbing. She moaned with nod, arousing the nipple his hand had left under hers. They fucked, her hips rocking back to meet his. She moaned, appreciating what his fingers were doing and that they were his. It was a long, almost leisurely fuck. They exchanged soft moans. She thought there was something special about it, that her father just wanted to enjoy it - like she was - with no feelings that what they were doing had the excuse that uncontrollable erotic feelings were letting them forget who they were. She had a couple of times, only remembering afterwards that she had been fucking her father. Had he also forgotten? Now her father was fucking her, knowing she was his daughter, and they both were enjoying it, moaning together, when his cock twitched, and her pussy tightened. So nice, fucking like that, so that they both were aware when that happened. She reached back and rubbed his hip, murmuring: "I love it. I love you." "Mmmmm, I love you too, and not just this way." "Um-hmm, but also this way." "Um-hmm," he agreed. When his fingers began to rub again, she realized that they hadn't been, but that was just right. He had been enjoying that what they were doing wasn't just to reach their orgasms, and his now rubbing again confirmed his agreement with her "but also this way." Before she had completed that nice thought, she had already moaned in response to his additional arousal of her pussy. Her hand encouraged him to fuck her harder; now they could look forward to their orgasms. He began to fuck her with longer strokes. Good Daddy! Did he ever think of her as "good daughter" or "good Kitten," or forget that it wasn't her, when she was fucking him or sucking his cock? She forgot that thought, as the arousal from his cock and fingers took control of her, just promising herself that this time she wouldn't forget that her "good Daddy" was fucking her. She didn't, and he didn't. When his hand slid up from her pussy, drawing body closer to hers again and hugging her to him, his cock still twitching in her pussy, she felt him take a deep breath. Then he murmured: "Why did I have to wait for my Kitten to grow up to know how good it could be?" She grasped his hand and drew it up on her breast, still too aroused from the orgasm he had given her to know how to reply. What he had said was a compliment, but a bitter-sweet one. She felt pity for him, that he had expressed it that way, and then wondered about herself. Could it be any better with someone else? His hand squeezed her breast. She clasped his hand and nodded, then murmured: "It was. ... And I'm glad that I'm grown up." He squeezed her breast in response, hugging her again. They were silent, even when his cock slipped out of her pussy, neither acknowledging that it had with a hum or snort. They just lay there. She dozed off with pleasant, affectionate thoughts. Their hands had slid off her breast, when she felt his move, finding her breast again and rousing her. It squeezed it, and he said cheerfully: "I wonder if sculptors or artists back then ever thought of their models as 'kitten'." It took her a moment to collect her thoughts. Then she chuckled and replied: "Maybe if they were too young for them to do what we do." "It didn't look like it." "No. But maybe if they had known them, when they were." "Hmm! Waiting for them to grow up and become 'very nice'?" "Like you did?" "Hadn't thought of that," her father replied with a chuckle, then adding: "Maybe just looking at their mothers and hoping." "Hm-hmm! But then had to settle for less than 'very nice'." "I don't," her father replied, his fingers extending and holding her whole breast. "I like to hold Marlie's, and they're really like those, except for her nice nipples, 'very nice' nipples." "I'm supposed to know? Light pink, like yours?" "Darker, more like light tan than pink. Her pussy also has a touch towards tan." "You want me to know that too?" "Not really. Just said it." "But thinking about her pussy?" "Just recalling how it looks." "Just making me think it's attractive?" "If you want to; it is." "Hmm? We better get up. Her father rolled back, and they did. On the way to the bathroom, she liked that they had gotten away from talking about their own relationship, but thinking that that had been nice, his first words. They showered together, now so usual that they didn't remark when they went a little and when they washed each other's asshole. While he shaved, she sat on the toilet, watching him, enjoying his glances at her in the mirror. When she slid her hands up under her breast, he nodded, smiling with his still half sudsy face, but remarked: "Don't make me cut myself." She looked down at her "very nice" - his description - breasts, and rubbed her fingers over her nipples. He shook his head with a hum. She just smirked at him. "Don't! Ouch! Too late." "Sorry," she murmured and let her hands drop, waiting for him to finish. When he leaned down to rinse his face, her eyes dropped down, and she saw his balls hanging down between his thighs. They hung down that low? At least when he was bending over like that, certainly not "too small." She hummed and murmured: "Nice balls, 'very nice', not 'too small'." "Stop it!" he replied with his face still over the washbasin, but then stood up and gave her a grin in the mirror. His cut was only a scratch, and they returned to the room. When she leaned down to step into her panties, he looked at her with a chuckle and said: "And I can see your pussy, also 'very nice'." "Really?" "Yeah, lean down like that with your ass to the mirror and look between your legs." She left her panties on one ankle and moved so that she could, leaning down further and looking. "Hmmm! Not just my pussy, but didn't know you could see it like that," she remarked, smiling at him between her knees, then looking in the mirror again and watching her fingers slide up between her thighs, over the curve of her pussy lips. She chuckled and reached up with one and slid it over her asshole, then murmured: "Pretty pink too. Never saw it," and glanced at him again. "Um-hmm," he agreed with a nod, then hummed and said: "Lovely. Didn't know I could see it either, but I know what I want to do when we're back here." "Why wait till then?" she replied, standing up again. "Something to look forward to." "Hmm! And make me think about it all day?" "Me too!" he agreed with a grin. "I'll tell you, every chance I get," she replied with a scowl and grin, then reached down and stepped into her panties with her other foot. They got dressed, she wearing a dress again, and went to breakfast. When her father took a large helping of scrambled eggs, she smirked to herself, remembering that the German girl in the school had said that eggs made men more potent. They finished their breakfast, agreeing to go to a smaller museum. There were no nudes and few tourists. When none were near, she hummed and murmured: "Remember," then another time: "Don't forget." He nodded returning her smile. When they left the museum, she asked for the guide book and studied the map of the city, then looked in the index. He asked her what she was looking for. She just nodded, replying: "If I can find it." "What?" "A market hall. Oh, would 'mercato' be a market?" "Sounds like it: mercantile, or the like." "Hmm! Then I've found it: mercato centrale!" She turned back to the map with a triumphant grin and said: "Not far from the station, or from here." "Uh-oh," her father replied: "think I know what you're looking for." "Um-hmm! But still don't forget," she said with a grin. "Cucumbers and carrots. Kind of early in the year for them." "If it's a big market, they should have everything. Only want small cucumbers." "Just very small ones, I hope." "Hmm! You know which size ones I'm looking for." "Pretty sure; as long as you're not looking for larger ones. 'Remember,' 'don't forget'." "Just for Marlie; not larger ones. I haven't forgotten!" "Hmm? 'Cause her brother's not home this week?" "Mmmm! Or next week." "When I'll be back home," he remarked. "If I can find ones the right size." she replied, nodding. Her father shrugged with a wry expression and nodded for her to find the way to the central market. They found it and went in. They were almost overwhelmed by the crowd and the variety of stalls, not all just displaying food. She tempered her search for the right sized little cucumbers and followed her father passed stalls selling cheese, wine, meat, and other things. He suggested that they could have something to eat and drink there, and she agreed, then reminding him why they were there. He smiled with a nod and replied: "Just a suggestion; I haven't forgotten." "Not just the cucumbers, I hope." "Hm-hmm! Unless you find ones you like better," he replied with a smirk." "Just for next week." "Should your daddy know what you want to do with them?" "When he knows it's just a poor substitute for his?" "Hmm? I just hope so," he replied. She looked around to see that there were no tourists in earshot, and murmured: "It will be, and can't do what else you can." Her father nodded and licked his lips and wiggled a finger. She moaned with a nod, grinning. They continued their stroll through the crowded market, coming to the vegetable stalls, then one with cucumbers, big ones and smaller ones. She gave him broad grin. His grin wasn't as broad, but he nodded. As she looked at them, she suddenly wondered what the person in the stand would think about a tourist's wanting to buy a few small cucumbers, especially since to her it was so evident that she was looking for ones the size of a man's erection. Some of them did! Enough of them the right size that she could just point at them, although she wanted to hold one first. How many? The person had moved in front of her. She pointed and then held her hand up, extending her thumb and fingers in turn, and said "cinq" French for five, hoping the Italian number was similar, also hoping her using French somehow made it seem less unusual that a tourist would buy them. Well, they were for Marlie, a French girl - not all of them. She watched the person's hands put five of her cucumbers in a bag and then weigh them, still not having looked up the person's face. When the person said the price, she had to look up, an older man, just waiting for her to pay. When he recognized that she hadn't understood, he wrote the price on the bag. She paid and got her change. With the bag in her hand, she turned and found that her father had stepped back out of the way of people wanting to pass. He smiled at her with shrug. She grinned and joined him, muttering: "That was almost embarrassing." "With your thoughts about what you were buying, five of them." "Yeah, like that." She reached in the bag and grasped one. She moaned softly; it really felt like she had hoped it would: firm and the right size, and it's surface a little uneven, just like the two stiff cocks she had held. She blushed at the impression that she was holding one among so many people. I need a glass of wine and something to eat," she murmured, reluctantly releasing the cucumber that had felt so good in her hand. Her father chuckled with a smirk and replied: "Found them. Okay, good idea." She just nodded with wry smile, and they found their way back to the wine stall they had passed. She almost gulped down her first drink of wine, then grinned at him and held up the bag and said: "You hold one." He took another sip of wine and reached in the bag. He chuckled with a grin and murmured: Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 06 "You really did find them." "You hold yours?" she murmured, smirking." "When no one else does." "Hm-hmm! Like I do. ... But I have a better alternative now." "Not for another two nights, I hope." She nodded with an almost growling moan, hardly smiling. They emptied their glasses and found a stall that offered something to eat, also to drink, and had another glass of wine with their food. When they emptied their glasses, she looked at him and asked: "What do we want to do now," without a smirk. She didn't have to; her father replied - also without one: "I know what you want to do. So do I." "Like you said," she replied softly. He nodded. She nodded with soft moan, and they hurried to find their way out of the crowded market. On their way back to their hotel, walking too fast to hold hands, she murmured: "I've got to go." "Don't know if I'll let you, will want to wait." "Then we'd have to in the shower." "Hmm? Um-hmm, I guess so, for me too." She snickered and replied: "If I'm like that again, and you want wine in your face, I could to." She hoped the tourists, who could have overheard her, had no idea of her vision of them in the shower, she leaning down with his face behind her ass, and her holding his cock so that she could catch his stream in her mouth. She rather liked the idea that they both could do that at the same time, like when she sucked and he licked, wondering if he had understood what she had said, had had the same vision. He had. He chuckled deeply and replied: "Like that, at the same time? Just use the toilet, in the lobby, if you can't wait." "I will," she replied, then remembering better grammar, and said: "I shall." "Maybe I can wait. If not, I'll leave the door open." She nodded, as they hurried along, replying: "And I want so much to see if we could do it that way." "Me too, a little. Another time, when I don't want to do something else." "Like I want you to, whatever that is." "Mmmm! Better not tell you here." They both moaned and hurried on. There was no one else in the lobby, and he could get the key and join her in the elevator without seeming too much in a rush. She couldn't stand still. When the elevator stopped at their floor, he took the bag of cucumbers from her and rushed ahead to their room, opening the door, so that she could go straight to the bathroom. When he joined her, unzipping his pants, he heard her stream hissing in the toilet bowl. She wrinkled her nose and remarked: Almost didn't make it," gathering the skirt of her dress up on her thighs and slipping her panties over her knees. When they dropped to her ankles, she leaned down and picked them up and added: "All wet; I really have to wash a couple now. These were the pair from the first day, before I knew that the others wouldn't last more than a day." Her father had turned to the washbasin and was going. He chuckled and replied: "Then maybe a good thing we're back here so soon." "Mmmm! Yes, but not for that reason. Hm-hm-hmm! Or I could just go without." "I don't want to think about what could happen then." "I would just be more careful about going every time I could." "Still bad. I've gotten accustomed to the line of your panties through your shorts, not just yours, so it was all right ..." "You've been looking at other girls," she interjected. "You said I could, didn't just to see if they weren't wearing bras." "Hm-hmm! See any who weren't wearing panties?" "Not that I can remember." "My daddy, wanting to see if girls didn't have any underwear on." "Not like he wants to see his Kitten without anything on." "Mmmm! And especially her kitten." "And not just see it!" She hummed very warmly with a nod, and they hurried back to the room, beginning to undress on the way. She had her dress off before he could step out of his pants, and stood watching him. Then she chuckled softly and shifted her weight from one leg to the other, provocatively rocking her hips. He hummed with raised eyebrows and asked: "Where did you learn that?" "Just came to me. If I knew what belly dancing was like, I try that." "Bad - good - enough, what you're doing." "Ever see one?" "Just in a film." "That kind of film?" "No, 'From Russia with Love', just a short scene." "Oh, James Bond; what did she do?" "Made her hips twitch, maybe like that, but faster." She grinned and rocked her hips faster. He nodded, but replied: "Even faster. Don't know how she did it, but it made the spangles on her hips flip up and down." "Hm-hm-hmm! Can't do that; don't have anything on." "I noticed, he replied, standing on one foot to raise the other one and take off a sock, as she turned and let him see her ass rocking. She looked back at him with a smirk. When she saw him take off his other sock, she suddenly leaned down and smiled at him between her knees, seeing his surprised expression, that changed to smile, when she saw his eyes leave her face and look up at her ass and pussy. She assumed that he didn't see her smile to herself; this was the way he had seen her, when he had said that he knew what he wanted to do, when they were back in the room. She snickered, and he looked back down at her face. "Come here, kneel down, and let me see if we could have done that in the shower." "Hmm! Probably," he murmured, immediately doing as she asked, his hands fondling her ass. She chuckled as her hand reached around her leg and grasped his cock, hearing him then chuckling and murmuring: "I thought so." "Mmmm! It would work, and it already looked like it wanted to be held. You don't have to hold it when I'm around." "And you don't have to play with store-bought cucumbers, when mines around." "Hm-hmm! And won't want to," she replied, then rising up and saying: "But we can't do it like that; I can't lean down like that any longer." "Uhmmm, now I can't see it," he complained, his hands sliding around and holding her hipbones and drawing them closer together, then kissing and licking where his mouth touched her back. "If I kneel on the bed?" "Good idea!" he agreed and let her move towards the nearest. She quickly flung back the covers. As she was getting her knees up on the bed, she noticed that he had been following her on his knees. When she dropped down on her hands, she rocked her ass and heard him hum with a chuckle and murmur: "Can see it again now. Just as good." She looked down between her legs, and his hands grasped her hipbones again, as she saw him hunker down, seeing his neck. She moaned in anticipation, hearing him mutter: "pretty pink." Her pussy went even wetter than it already was, but then she was startled. She felt his tongue on her asshole. Yes, he had also said that it was "pretty pink," and she seen that it was. It felt good, arousing. She moaned and rocked back, pressing her asshole against his tongue, inviting it to probe, moaning when it did. If he wanted to start there, good Daddy - as long as he didn't forget where else was pretty pink, maybe when it dripped. It felt like her pussy would. Her head was still hanging down, and she glanced at her breasts, the first time she had seen them like that, wondering if they looked bigger or just more "very nice" with their aroused nipples, with shape they had this way. What he was doing felt good, but enough of that. She dropped down on her elbows, hoping it turned her pussy up to suggest his tongue find it. Better Daddy! She felt his tongue slid down and probe between her pussy lips. She nodded vigorously with a moan and appreciated how much better it could probe there, almost like it was able to fuck her. That felt even better, more arousing, but she knew that was not going to give her the orgasm she wanted and knew that he did too, even though she knew from Marlie's pussy how could it felt for his tongue, how good it was tasting for him, hearing him moan. He loved to do it! Then his hands drew her hips further back, past the edge of the bed, and his tongue left her opening and slid further forward. It was going to find where she was most sensitive! She moaned and pressed her hips further back, dropping her head and shoulders down on the bed and arching her back. She couldn't make her pussy more accessible to his tongue than that. He knew where she wanted to feel it. God, she was aroused. Her panties hadn't been wet just from her having to go. They had been gone moist, when she had grasped that nice small cucumber, maybe before, when she had first found the cucumbers, or even before, when her father had been talking about them. All the time, in the back of her mind, she had been anticipating what they were doing, how he had said he wanted to do it. And now he was! His tongue was there doing the most arousing things it could, where she was most arousable. She moaned again, a very aroused but also contented moan; she was confident that he was going to give it to her, her orgasm, and he was going to get her pussy juice right in his mouth - the sooner the better! She lay there with her ass up, moaning, waiting for it to happen, feeling her legs twitch. Her short moans, between her aroused breaths changed to longer, pulsing ones, as she felt her pussy contracting. It wanted a cock to hold. She stopped breathing through her nose. With her mouth open, her pulsing moans sounded like whimpers. Soon! Please! Her thighs were quivering. Please!! She gasped, and her stomach muscles contracted sharply, and she felt clutching pussy flood. "God, yes!" she blurted out, as her stomach drew in sharply again - finally! He was moaning with her, his tongue now trying to collect more of her pussy juice. Didn't he feel that the mouth of her pussy was still contracting? As good as it had been that way, it still wanted a cock to hold. Didn't he recognize that? She knew his cock was aroused; it wanted to be in her. Did she have to tell him? She felt his hands slide up around her hips and press down. Thank God, he was standing up! She didn't have to tell him! He was pushing her further forward, raising her hips. Yes, stick it in, your cock, as big as my cucumbers. I've got to hold it again to compare them, but not now; just let my pussy hold it. "Uhnnnn!" she moaned. It had plunged into her pussy in one swift thrust, his hips slapping against her ass, jolting her body. Finally something to hold, not just something, a twitching surging cock. It stayed deep in her, and he moaned when her pussy squeezed it, but only for a few seconds. Then it began to fuck. So much for the arousal of just feeling pussy and cock greeting each other again. Being fucked was even better, and he and his cock were, as hard and fast as they could, his cock thrusting so deep in her pussy, as his hips pounded on her ass. His hands were back grasping her hipbones to keep his hips from pushing her down on the bed, so hard he was fucking her: "Slap, slap, slap, ..." Was she going to come again, already? When would he? She was going to! But he suddenly stopped fucking, his cock deep in her pussy, and moaned. She felt his cock twitch and surge. Didn't he want to yet? "Can't help it," he murmured and began to ram his cock in and out her pussy, groaning. If he couldn't help it, she had to come with him. With another thrust in her pussy, he grunted. He was coming, but only after his following fucks, did she also have her orgasm. He dropped down over her, and his hands slid up, then slid on the sheet to get under her breasts and hold them. God, they did it good, she thought, enjoying the weight of his body on her and the clasp of his hands around her breasts. But his cock was still in her pussy, and he had made her come twice, but he had only once. Could she want him to fuck her again? Could he? If he could come in her mouth and then in her pussy, he could. She wanted him to, and if he blamed her for wanting too much. Before his cock forgot where it was, and her pussy squeezed it, and it slipped out. It did squeeze it with her thought, but it was still in her, even responded. She moaned and murmured: "It wants to again. I want to." "Hmm, I'm not sure." "I want to, try," she replied softly. His hips rocked, and his cock moved in her. She nodded and murmured: "It can; just make it want to." "What you want?" he murmured, but continued to rock his hips. She moaned; his cock was moving in her pussy; it could, and he was agreeing to try again. Did his squeezing her breasts confirm his agreement? His continuing to rock his hips did. She nodded with a moan and rocked her hips to help. His fingers were wanting to arouse her nipples. She raised her shoulders with her elbows, enough to let her breasts hang free over his hands. When his fingers then slid up around them, she remembered how they looked that way and wondered if his fingers recognized their different shape. Then she remembered that he could have seen them like that, when she was sitting on his cock, leaning over him. His cock? His hips had stopped moving, while they both were enjoying her breasts. "Fuck," she insisted softly. His hips rocked again, and he rose up off her back, still holding her breasts. She nodded with an encouraging moan. His hips drew back slowly, just a little and then pressed back against her ass. They both hummed in recognition that his cock was still aroused enough, and he took another stroke, a little longer. They hummed again, and he took another one. "It can," she murmured, and when he took a better one, she chuckled with another nod, and he squeezed her breasts and slowly took a few more, then stopped. She felt his cock twitch in her pussy and nodded again with a pleased moan, hearing him chuckle and murmur: "You were right; I wasn't sure." "Fucking right," she murmured, rocking her hips, but a little surprised at her choice of words. But he only chuckled again and began to really fuck her, not as hard as before. She gave a long moan, and he squeezed her breasts again. She wanted to rub the front of her pussy, but her hands were up past her head. After a few more strokes and moans, she murmured: "Rub it." Good Daddy! She hadn't forgotten that it was his cock fucking her pussy. His hand left her breast and slid down her stomach, and his fingers found where she wanted them to rub. She nodded with a better moan, and her elbows slid away, her shoulders back on the bed. His other hand slid from under her breast, and then he was fucking her, while his fingers rubbed. How many times could she want to be fucked?! It was so good this way! And he was fucking her as hard as he had before, when he must have been desperate to have his orgasm, his cock so hard, after his tongue had given her hers, her pussy flushing in his face. Of course, it was going to take longer this time, but she could just lay there, moaning, as his cock thrust in her pussy, when his hips slapped against her ass. But his fingers were arousing her like his tongue had, and now her pussy had something to hold! Fuck! She was going to come again! Again, her moans became uncontrolled whimpers, and then she gasped, and her body convulsed. Another orgasm! But he hadn't had his, and his aroused cock wasn't letting him stop; she had to survive its continuing to plunge in her overflowing pussy! How could she? She had no choice; she had wanted him to fuck her again - for him - and he was. She continued to whimper. It was too much, but it still felt good! Fucking good! And he was groaning again; his cock wanted to come again - and now her pussy did! He grunted, and her body convulse! After three or four more more grunts, he dropped down on her again and then almost brutally grasped her under her arms and heaved her further across the bed, and collapsed on her. She extended her legs, her knees dropping off the bed, and he was lying on her with his full weight. She felt his stomach rising and falling on her back. Under his weight, hers couldn't as much. How long did they lie like that? She didn't know, when she finally recovered, only aware that his cock wasn't in her pussy. She rocked her ass up against his hips. He hummed, then murmured: "You wanted me to." She nodded, and he shoved himself back off her, kneeling on the floor and gathering up her legs and helping her lie the length of the bed. She rolled towards the wall to make space for him to join her, grasping his hand, when it slid over her and found her breast. They both moaned softly and were silent. She dozed off. When she awoke, their hands had slid off her breast; he had also fallen asleep. She blinked her eyes open. It was still light outside, and not the early morning light, when they woke up like that. Then, in a rush, it came back to her: they had returned to their room after lunch and fucked like they never had before! Had she been anticipating that she could feel his cock, like she had that morning? Not after the way they had fucked, the way he had fucked her! She clasped his hand. He sighed with a soft moan, and his forearm just held her a little closer. She didn't want to wake him up, hadn't intended to when she held his hand. After what he had done for her, he deserved his sleep. She recalled: he had licked her pussy to as good an orgasm as he could that way, and then fucked her. That could have been enough, but then she had wanted him to fuck her again, and he had, unfairly giving her an extra orgasm. Good, best Daddy! Involuntarily, her hand clasped his again. This time, when he moaned, his hand touched her side at the mattress and then moved up on her breast and held it. She nodded with a soft hum. Her hand had followed his, and her fingers joined his in holding her breast. Then he repeated his words from before: "You wanted me to." "Didn't know it would be like that. I hope you wanted to, too." "More than I knew I could." "More than I knew I wanted." "Something like that." "Love in the Afternoon," he murmured, squeezing her breast. She remembered the film and replied: "Not with her father." "Hmm? Shouldn't have mentioned that." "Still bothers you? It doesn't me." "Not really, just said it, since we have. The film title just came to me and seemed so appropriate. I wasn't thinking about the father-daughter in the film." "There wasn't any." "Thanks for reminding me," her father replied with another squeeze of her breast. She held his hand and then rolled back against him. He moved back to make space for her to lie on her back, his hand still on her breast, then sliding over and holding the other one. He chuckled and remarked: "I just have to hold them; not just 'very nice', the nicest one I've held." "And the nicest hand to hold them, but that's not saying much: just Marlie's and her brother's." "Still could be the nicest one, with three or three pairs having held them: nice, nicer, nicest." Then really the nicest one, this one or the other one." " "Hm-hmm! And they're not particular, both the nicest ones." "They come in pairs." He nodded with a chuckled and fondled her other breast again. She hummed, then after a moment said: "I've had enough sightseeing for today." "Me too." "And we can just lie like this, till we want to go to dinner?" "As long as you don't expect anything. At least that settles that neither of us is going to ask: ... " "What do we want to do now," she said it with him, and they chuckled. She then added: "I'm not, just love lying naked in bed with you, not falling asleep." "We did." "For how long?" He looked at his wristwatch and chuckled, replying: "It's nearly four; you can figure out how long we slept." "Hmm! The shorter we slept, the longer we did." "Or vice versa." Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 06 "Long enough, for sure." "'Did', or sleep," her father asked, tweaking her soft nipple. "Ouch! 'Did'." "Sorry!" "Where are the cucumbers?" "Somewhere. You're already thinking about them again?" "No, just thought they should be in the minibar." "If you want to keep them till Sunday, or Monday, or whenever you both can?" "Something like that. Oooh! We wouldn't want them to ice-cold." "I should think not! I'll put them in." He got up. As he was opening the minbar, she said: "Bring me one; I just want to hold it." He fished one out of the bag with a shrug and put the bag in the minibar. He held it in his fist, grinning at her as he returned to the bed. She had rolled on her side, reaching up to get it. He lay down facing her, holding his hand out of her reach with a chuckle, and said: "I really shouldn't let you hold it; you might become a vegetarian." "Doesn't it feel good?" "Hmm! Shouldn't admit that I know it does." "I'd rather that you do, than not have to. Give it to me." He let her take it from his hand. Her fingers wrapped around it. She smirked with hum, rubbing her finger up and down on it. Her father chuckled and put his hand on her hip, remarking: "Okay, have fun with it." "I don't want to do that, not while you're here." "I just wanted you to do whatever else you wanted to do with it. Just four for you and Marlie." "Fair!" she agreed with another smirk: "She doesn't have to know that I played with one with you." "If you tell her everything else we do?" Probably will." "If you don't mind?" "If you want to. Sounds like she will want to hear." "Mmmm! She will! Don't know how I could explain that I got them, without your knowing." "And her then assuming that you just couldn't help but play with one." "Probably," she agreed cheerfully, rubbing her fingers on the small cucumber. Then she smirked again and said: "We've never really talked about cocks, just her name for her brother's, and then my idea that her 'little brother' suggested 'petit Pierre" for me, a 'little peter,' not a little one." "Hmm? Just a nice cucumber?" "A 'very nice' one, like yours." "Thanks. What do you want to do with it - the one in your hand?" She smirked, looking at it, then looking at him and licking her lips. "Better wash it first, if you want to do that," he suggested, returning her smirk. She nodded and scrambled over him, dripping on his thigh. When she realized it, she chuckled and moved back, then wiped her pussy up the length of his thigh. When she stood up, he wiped his hand up the moist streak she had left, and added: "And wash there, too. Me too." He followed her to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet, more just pro forma, dribbling. When he turned to the washbasin, she chuckled and handed him the cucumber. He also only dribbled, then washed his cock and balls and then the cucumber, moving to the side to let her see how his hand was rubbing up and down on it. She snickered with a nod and said: "Don't give me any ideas. ... Hm-hmm! Won't have to ask what WE want to do." "Wash your pussy, and don't forget why you have to." She nodded, reaching for the cucumber, but he snatched it away, remarking: "Maybe I shouldn't let you have it." "I paid for it; it's mine," she replied with a feigned scowl and began to wash herself. He returned to the room with the cucumber and lay down again, making space for her to join him. When she did, reaching for it again, he teased her once, but then handed it to her. She smirked again and murmured: "Where was I?" "Looking at it and licking your lips, as though you could have forgotten." She shook her head, then nodded, looking at it again, and again licking her lips, then remarked: "Oh, the end is nice and round and smooth, likc you-know-what, not that smooth." She licked it, twisting it on her tongue and humming with smiling eyes, then remarking: "Better than a carrot would have been." Her father nodded with a smile, and watched her put in her mouth. She hummed again with wide open eyes, nodding, twisting it and moving it in and out her mouth. She wanted to entertain him. When almost half of it was in her mouth, she let go of it and just sucked. It slipped deeper in her mouth, and she was rewarded by her father's surprised expression. Pleased, she took a breath and did that again, but when it tickled the back of her throat, she quickly pulled it out again, feeling that her cheeks had flushed. He had chuckled, shaking his head, then said: "Serves you right for wanting to show off." "But it is just the right size, my green cucumber. Hmm? Want to try it? Want to know why Marlie and I like it?" Hmm! Not like that," he replied, but when she turned the cucumber to him, he opened his mouth and let her but the end in it, then quickly grasping her hand. She felt his tongue moving it and smiled with a nod, then liking that his hand let hers move it in his mouth and that he hummed with a nod. Then he pulled her hand back, and said: "Guess I do know why you two like it, but I don't want a real one." "Didn't want you to." "Hm-hmm! But it's missing something." He took the cucumber from her hand and put it back in his mouth. She saw him close his mouth tighter around it and then begin to twist it. Had she heard his teeth scratching it, or just thought she did, as she watched him twist it all the way around in his mouth. With a pained moan, she blurted out: "Don't hurt my cucumber!" He just chuckled in his throat, raising his eyebrows, and she had to watch him twisted it around a couple of times more. Then he pushed it a little further in his mouth, chuckling again. She imagined that his tongue was testing what he had done. He pulled it out and looked at it, chuckling with a pleased smile. She also had to chuckle; his teeth had made a nice groove around the smooth end of the cucumber. Her daddy wanted her cucumber to be even more like a cock! It was! He handed it back to her, and she put it in her mouth. She nodded with an "Uhn-hnnn" - it was more like a cock! As her tongue explored the groove, he murmured: "At least, it will taste like a cucumber, in case you forget that it is one, but maybe it won't keep so well." She nodded and took it out, replying cheerfully: "Why we have four more, but thank you for wanting to make it better." "My pleasure, well, not as much as yours, I guess." As she nodded, looking at it again and recalling how his aroused cock looked, he snickered and added: "That's what daddies are for, to make things as good as they can for their daughters." "Mmmm! The lucky ones whose do as good as you do!" "My pleasure!" he repeated with a grin. "Not just yours," she replied softly, looking at the cucumber. The groove he had made didn't have to be deeper, but she thought it should be wider, so that the edge around the end of it could rub in her pussy, like the head of his cock did. She hummed and put it back in her mouth. When she began to twist it, her teeth scraping to make the groove wider, he snorted and said: "You don't like my cucumber?" She shook her head and took it out, replying: "Oh, I do, just want to make it more like your real one." He nodded with a chuckle, and it was back in her mouth, her teeth scraping the groove wider, as she twisted it. He was right: it was going just to taste like cucumber, but in her pussy ...? Was she going to try that? She had said that she wouldn't, but now, making it more like his cock? She twisted, scraping it to be even more like his cock. Her father must just be curious to see if she did, and to see what their cucumber would look like, now that she had made it more like his nice aroused cock. She pulled it out. It was! She glanced over at him, seeing his smirk and hearing his chuckle. He hummed and said: "It really is. Guess you're going to have to try it out." His acceptance that she wanted to let her be fresh. She replied: "If you'll help, make my pussy want to." "Hmm? Could have expected that. Mmmm! Tongue or fingers?" "Doesn't matter, just that it's all wet." "Hmm? What a daddy is good for, he murmured and reached down between her thighs. "Mmmm! A 'very nice' daddy, the very nicest one." The cucumber was back in her mouth, as his fingers began to arouse her. She hummed, enjoying what his fingers were doing and the sensation of having something so much like a cock in her mouth. What could it be like with two men. if one had his cock in her mouth, and the other one's was in her pussy? But there wasn't one in her pussy, and the one in her mouth was really just a cucumber, as good as it felt. Would it feel as good in her pussy? Better than just his fingers, and it would be something for her pussy to hold, even if it didn't feel as good as his cock did. And her pussy now wanted it! She pulled the cucumber out of her mouth and put it down between her thighs next to his hand. It made space for her to guide its grooved head to her moist opening, but her little finger caught a couple of his, urging him to hold it, her other fingers pressing the cucumber over under them. Good Daddy! They took it. She nodded with a moan, her fingers helping his to find the mouth of her pussy. His fingers pushed it in. She moaned deeply A cock in her pussy, at least it felt just like a cock, and he made it twitch! She moaned again. She couldn't ask him to fuck her, but he did! He was moving it in and out her pussy, twisting it, the little bumps on its surface rubbing and arousing her. And - she moaned - he was tilting it up against the front of her pussy, the ridge around its head rubbing there, where she wanted to feel it! Had he known that his groove would make it better? He must have understood that she had wanted it to, her making his groove so much like the one around the base of the head of his cock. She gave a long, pulsing moan. This wasn't just an experiment with a cucumber; she wanted another orgasm. She tried to excuse herself, that she was just wanting to be able to tell Marlie that it could be good with a cucumber. Oh, she would, and she would know how to make it as good for her, as her father was for her, and Marlie could rub, like her fingers were going to. A moment later, they were. She heard her father's approving "um-hmm," and murmured - entirely superfluously: "Fuck me." He was, with their cucumber cock, now faster, and so deep. How much of their cucumber was plunging in her pussy? Enough! Like his cock could! "Uhn!" Not that much! It didn't go that deep again, but pulled out further than it had been, like when he fucked her, longer strokes! Oh, Daddy! You do it so good! Even this way, just wanting it to be good for me, and even if you can't taste and enjoy my wet orgasm, but you want me to have it. She did, with her pulsing whimpers. He had moaned, but she hadn't noticed, then just was a little surprised, when his hand left the cucumber in her pussy and came up to his mouth, and he licked it. Yes, she had come like that, her pussy flooding his hand - and her new cucumber cock. She sighed, then thought: if it had been that good for her, and he knew it - he did - his cock must be aroused. She had to suck it! Before she had entirely recovered, she was crawling down the bed, looking forward to having his cock in her mouth, also to know that it was better than just a cucumber, even one with a groove. When her movements made the cucumber slip out of her pussy, she had to snicker and murmur: "Lost it, my nice cucumber." "Hmm! At least, you remember that it was one." "Mmmm! Now. Kind of forgot," she replied , now down between his legs, looking at his stiff, bobbing cock. She leaned down, and its head disappeared in her mouth. It was better than their cucumber, so slick, smooth, and twitching. And it could shoot in her mouth! Not taste like a cucumber, like a real cock! She hummed in anticipation, licking and sucking to make it. His hips immediately began to twitch. Yes, he wanted it as soon as she did, as soon as she could let them both have it. She gave it to him, his orgasm, and got it, his pungent semen, delighting at her success and the incomparable taste of his orgasm. He fondled her head and murmured: "Didn't know that I could want that again." "But you did, you could, and I wanted it." "Hmm! My very nicest daughter." "Hm-hmmm, your only one. Need three to have a nice one, a nicer one and the nicest one." "Fuck you for your grammar! One like you is better, best." "Like having the best father, ... fucking father, since you used that word." "Shouldn't have, but since I did, and the way you did, then ...," he took a breath and continued: "only, best fucking, cock-sucking daughter." She was still down between his legs. She dove up over him and planted a kiss on his mouth, their tongues immediately caressing and confirming their incestuous consensus. He was grasping and fondling the cheeks of her ass. When he could retrieve his tongue, he chuckled and asked: "Where's your nice green cock." "Hmm, 'very nice' 'green cock', thank you, but I like one that can twitch and do what yours does much better." "Hm-hmm! What a relief! Not just taste like a cucumber? "Hmmm! You know it doesn't." "And that I like the way it does, when I lick your pussy." "Where is it, my fucking cucumber?" "Your language! Want it again?!" "No, just to wash it off," "For next time? I'm not flattered." "Just to put it in the minibar. I already wanted - and got - more than I should have." "But made up for it." "And wanted that too." "Like I wanted our cucumber to be good enough." "It was! Where is it?" They sat up and found it, snickering. Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 07 Their last two nights in Florence are delightful and intense They sat up and found the cucumber that had slipped out of her pussy, snickering. In the bathroom again, she washed it, then snickered again and let her father see her put it in her mouth, twisting and moving it in and out a little. He grinned and jostled his cock and balls, raising his cock. She nodded and took the cucumber out of her mouth and said: "I know: you know, I like it much better; just had to see that it was clean." "Hmm! Also the best cucumber-sucking daughter." "Oh, Daddy!" "Sorry!" "Won't do it again,... with you." He smiled, nodding, and replied: "Hope Marlie likes it as much." "She will," she replied with a grin, liking that he had mentioned her, and put the cucumber in the minibar. They agreed that it was late enough to think about supper, snickering about where they found their clothes. Before they put them on, she insisted on rinsing her panties. When she got the other ones, he asked: "All of them?" "Hmmm! Hm-hmm! If you don't make me forget that I don't have any on?" "Hmm? Not sure I couldn't, knowing you didn't." "Me neither," she agreed with a smirk and leaned down to step into the pair she had in her hands. He hummed, looking at her ass with her pussy showing between her thighs, and said: "Damned well better wear them. Good thing I don't go all wet in my shorts." She stood up, turning to him and rubbing her hand over her crotch, grinning, and replied: "That's good. Hm-hmm! Then I can try to make you." "Hmm! Better wear a jacket to keep it from showing." "Hm-hm-hmm! This is going to be fun!" "You think so!" he replied with a wry smile. They got dressed, she without a bra, he with a jacket, and went to find a restaurant. She suggested they go back to the one, where she had teased the waiter, but her father whispered: "And wet your pants?" "I didn't, just my nipples." "Hmm! And let him really see them? Probably for the next waiter too." "If he glances down, like that on did." "Should have told you to button up." "But you didn't; you liked that bra too." "Not the bra," he admitted, giving her a grin. She smiled and murmured: "I'll tell you if I wet them." "Not yet, I hope." "Not quite," she replied with a smirk. They found a restaurant on a side street that was still empty. They were the first guests and were offered a table on the window to the street. Before the waiter returned with menus, he murmured: "They want us to attract other guests." She hooked a finger in the front of her top and pulled it down, not revealing anything, but the waiter returning with the menus smiled behind her father's back, maybe because her finger and hand were pressing her top between her breasts. When the waiter left, her father murmured: "You don't have to do that; he was going to look, anyway." "Just didn't want him to think that you get to see them, but that I wanted someone to." "At least, they didn't pop out." "Oh! No, guess they're getting tired." "Hmm! Or too accustomed to being just smiled at." "I like that; they do like more than just a smile." "Stop it and read the menu." They ordered and had their meal without any more innuendos - until she returned from the ladies room and whispered: "Still haven't wet them." He gave her a tired smile and paid. Since it was still so early in the evening, they walked back to the Piazza della Signoria, the square with statues next to the Palazzo Vecchio with Michelangelo's statue of David, which they now knew was a copy of the original, which they had seen in a museum. When they now saw it again, she remember her father's whispered comment in the museum, that David must have be circumcised, that Michelangelo had forgotten that. She had said something about since he was "too small" there, anyway, so may as well show him as a baby, but then they remembered that in all the paintings of Mary and Jesus, he also wasn't circumcised, although that was mentioned in the Bible. Outside the museum, she had returned to the subject and said something about liking that Marlie's brother's cock also wasn't. He had scowled and whispered, asking if she didn't like his cock as much. Of course, she had assured him that she did, licking her lips and getting a smirk and hum in response. Now, seeing the statue again, she chuckled softly and said: "He still isn't,... you know." "Hmm? Is that all you look at on statues?" "When I can see it. You look for 'very nice' ones." "You do too, just to see if yours are as nice. They are." "Um-hmm, thank you. Oh? Maybe all Italian women want to think that David's is like what they like, even if it's 'too small'?" "Hmm! And have been for hundreds of years? Can you ask those two Italian girls in the school?" "Hm-hm-hmm! I don't think so! Let's go look at Perseus again, for you." They chuckled and turned to find the bronze statue, but they were looking again at the female figures at the base of the statue. She smiled, when she saw her father smiling at them. Then he glanced at her and murmured: "I still like yours better." "Mmmm! I do too, and that you do, but don't make me wet my panties." She hadn't, but twitched her thighs together for effect. He smirked and whispered: "Oooh! I don't want that,... or do I?" "I do," she replied with a hum. He nodded and took her hand, and they walked back towards their hotel. She squeezed his hand and murmured: "They aren't really wet." "What's that mean?" "We could have drink in the hotel. Back home, you wanted me to practice." "Seems like you have, we have." "And didn't even have a hangover after New Year's eve in Paris." "I remember: Pierre's, his 'little peter,' your first thing in the new year." "I wasn't thinking about his." "Worse, and you want to have drink in the bar?" "Don't you want to be seen with your daughter and her 'very nice'...?" "Yeah, but not if that couple is there, who really saw how 'very nice' they are." "He would." "You're talking yourself out of a drink." "Okay, if they're there, I'll turn away. His wife will probably drag him off." "Poor guy!" her father replied, squeezing her hand. They chuckled, again dropping hands as they approached the hotel. Before they entered the hotel, he chuckled and murmured: "And if, like New Year's eve, if we have enough, we can just wait till morning." "Where were you New Year's eve?" "Stupid hotel party, and if you want to know, didn't end up anywhere except back at home alone." "Wouldn't have minded if you didn't. Kind of wished you had." He stopped outside the entrance and said: "Why we love each other, and like we do, having to accept that..., well, you understand." She nodded with soft moan, finding his hand again. They clasped hands, and then went in the hotel. He got their room-key and nodded towards the bar with a mild smile. She didn't think she was going to have to worry about her nipples popping out after his endearing remark. They did love each other, like a daughter and father should. What they did with each other was a very - she didn't want to use the expression - a "very nice", the nicest, most intimate expression of their love, but it was also pure sex, and so good! She didn't have to think about that in the bar; it would be again, and if not before they went to sleep, better when they woke up. How was it going to be after a week with her father?! Oh, good with Marlie - and their cucumbers - but not like with his cock! They were in the bar, her father asking: "Beer, wine, whisky, cognac?" She glanced at what the others at the bar were drinking, seeing a couple with what looked like orange-tinged glass of white wine with ice, and replied: "What they're having." "A spritz?" the bartender said. "For me too," her father agreed. They watched him put ice in their glasses, then pour prosecco and add a good dash of orange liquid from a bottle with the label Aperol. He added a shot of soda water and a slice of orange. He put them on the bar with a smile. Had he glanced at her breasts, she wondered, now not like wishing that he had; she just wanted them to be for her father. They smiled at each other, raising their glasses in a silent toast, and sipped, and smiled again. When the bartender wasn't busy, her father asked: "Spritz? Sounds German?" "Probably, more a favorite drink in Veneto, in the northeast, in Venice. You like it?" They both nodded, smiling at him and then at each other. She wondered what the bartender had thought about them, but then liked that he could think that her father had a much younger girlfriend. He did! And her father's nice smile didn't suggest anything else, just that! Her thighs twitched . She smiled back, but hummed softly and murmured: "But now they are." "For me and not for the bartender, I hope." She shook her head, smiling at him, then nodding. He murmured: "Not sure which way?" "The right way,... for you," she murmured, taking another sip. Her father hummed with a slight nod, and also took a sip. They smiled at each other. Then he said in a harmless tone: "Your mother brought you to Europe; I want to take you home, not on the first flight." "'Not on the first flight?' she asked with a delighted smile. They both had a better sip. "If not the first flight?" she asked, taking a sip, and adding: "Did you mention Venice?" "If they like 'spritz' there," he replied, raising his glass. When they drank together, she hummed and smile. She had been wondering about her returning to the States, but now her father was suggesting that it could be just as good. Suddenly a voice behind her said: "Looks like you two enjoy each other's company." She was shocked and embarrassed, glancing around to see a greasy looking man, who didn't look like he belonged in the hotel. "Why shouldn't we?" she heard her father reply calmly, but in a more authoritative tone than she knew from him. The man didn't reply. She looked at her father. He was still looking at the man behind her with a self-confident expression. He repeated: "Why shouldn't we? I'm her father. Skat! Get lost!" She looked at her father with more relaxed expression. His eyes shifted, just his eyes, then he murmured: "He did." She smiled with a sigh, wanting to hug him. He turned his head to her and smiled, raising his glass and remarking: "Okay. If you see that man with his wife, you can smile at him." "I don't want to, and not just to save him from his wife's reaction." She found her glass, and they drank together. Then she asked: "We could got to Venice?" "If you want." "Oooh, that would be nice!" "I think so too," he replied, and they drank again. He signed the chit for their drinks, and they went to their room. As they were undressing, she murmured: "We don't have to do anything tonight. I just want to sleep with you. We still have one more night." "The way I feel too. That would be nice." They finished undressing, and she rinsed the panties she had been wearing. When she hung them up, she felt the others and chuckled, remarking with a grin: "If they're all still damp in the morning,..." "You'll have to wear damp ones," he interjected quickly. "That wasn't what I was going to say," she replied with smirk. "I know. Why I didn't let you say it." They finished in the bathroom and opened up the other bed. She wanted lie facing him with his thigh between hers. They got comfortable like that, with their arms around each other, their noses almost touching, and said good night. During the night, he eventually turned over, and then she did, lying back to back. When he turned over again, curling up behind her, she hardly wakened, just humming a sóft "um-hmm," as she felt his arm go around her. His hand didn't find her breast, and she dozed off again. She was still asleep, dreaming something indefinite, then trying to incorporated in her dream the sensation of feeling something in the space between the top of her thighs, then having to account for its moving there. Her dream started to make sense: she was climbing that rope again, when she was eleven or twelve. But a hand was now holding her chest; that couldn't be, and a hand couldn't hold anything on her flat chest, but this one was. The visual image in her dream faded, and she slowly awoke, recognizing that she had been dreaming, but the sensations were still there, hadn't faded away like in other dreams, when she felt that she was holding something, but then her hand was empty. Then she was awake enough to understand that she wasn't that little girl, that the hand was holding her breast, and that it was a cock between her thighs. Her father's! And it was his hand holding her breast! Then she was fully awake, remembering where they were and that it was all right for her father to be lying there with her, holding her breast and rubbing his cock where it was. She put her hand on his, and nodded. "Did I wake you up?" he murmured. "Slowly. I was trying to make sense of it in a dream, wanting to be climbing that rope again." "'Wanting to be'?" "Just to make sense of it, but then you were holding my breast, and in my dream there wasn't anything there to hold." "There is now," he replied, squeezing it. "Why I had to wake up. Good morning. Nicest way to wake up." "Um-hmm, very. Good morning. It was just there, where you once said you wanted it to be, and it wanted to be, so I let it do what it wanted." "Hm-hmm, nice of it to want to. And it doesn't want to be 'just there'." "No. Hmmm! As long as you don't think it's a cucumber." "Only the other way around: thinking a cucumber is it. Hm-hmm! Nice thing about cucumbers is that they don't have to go to the bathroom in the morning." "It doesn't either, not this morning," he replied, continuing to rock his hips and rub between her thighs. "Oooh! Nice, then it wants to do something else." She reached down and aroused herself for a few moments, and his fingers aroused her nipples. She hummed with a nod and then reached between her thighs and rubbed the back of the head of his cock. They both hummed cheerfully, when it twitched. She drew up her thigh and rolled back against him. He made space for her to lie on her back and moved down the bed and curled up behind her hip. She guided his cock to her moist opening. They both moaned, as its head slipped into her. She held it there with her fingers, while he moved to draw his thighs up over and under her other thigh, pushing his cock further in. She gave a satisfied moan, then chuckled and asked: "What do we want to do now?" "Hmm! You have to ask? If you have to ask, fuck you!" She almost laughed out loud, and he chuckled, squeezing her breast, and did. "Don't forget to suck it, the other one," she remarked, and began to rub her pussy. He leaned over her and did that too. He fucked and nibbled and played with her other nipple, and she rubbed and moaned, thinking that it had been good that they both hadn't wanted do anything the night before; this was just so good, worth waiting for, and now being aroused every way she could be. Then she wasn't thinking, just aware of how aroused she was and wanting her orgasm. She got it, whimpering and gasping. He gave it to her and got his own. When he grunted and came in her clutching pussy, she suddenly remembered what she had said about selfishly forgetting him in the arousal of her own orgasm, but he had had his too. His head and shoulders dropped back, and they lay there recovering. After a minute or two, he squeezed her thigh between his and murmured: "I like feeling something between my thighs, too." "Hm-hmm! And I especially like feeling something else between mine." She squeezed his soft cock with her pussy. He chuckled and replied: "I can't imagine what. Oh, I can, when you're back in school." "But I'll be thinking it's something else." She squeezed his cock again. It would have slipped out, if his hips weren't so close up behind her. He nodded and let it slip out, murmuring: "The housekeeping staff must know what we do. I just don't want to meet them." "Going to let me leak?" she asked, reaching down, then adding: "I am." She wiped up what her fingers found and stuck them in her mouth, smirking at him. He shrugged with smile, then chuckled and said: "Want to be really raunchy, your idea of what we both could do?" It took her a moment to remember her idea that she could bend over and pee in his mouth, while she directed his stream in hers. Then her eyes opened wide, and she asked: "If you want to. Hmm? Don't know if I can, bending over that way." "Then I'll just lick. Got to go now." "Me too, if I can that way." Snickering, they went in the bathroom. He knelt in the shower and held her hips, as she leaned down and reached between her legs and held his slippery cock. He licked her wet pussy. When his stream started, she directed it to her mouth, discovering that she couldn't swallow with her head down, but tasting it and having it splash on her face, and his licking, released her own stream. She suddenly wondered if it looked like a water fountain, the kind that shot a stream across the basin. When she stood up, she dribbled some more. He slapped her ass and stood up. He only had to wipe his chin. Her face was dripping, when she turned to him with a wry smile and said: "Can't swallow that way." "I sure could, but don't have to do that again, that way, at least." "My little water fountain?" "Hm-hmm! Yeah, sort of. Oh, hope I don't think of that, the next time I use one." "Hope you do! Now I've got to wash my hair." "Serves you right, for wanting to do that." "It was your suggestion." "Oh, all right. I'll help you." They had a long, pleasant shower. When he started washing her hair, she suddenly said: "Oh, this feels like when Mom used to wash my hair as a kid." "When you were climbing that rope?" "No, not then any more." "Hmm! Someone ought to wash your head real good." "Maybe! But if you do it, I like that better." "Hmm, just don't write home that I did." "Won't even tell Marlie." "And not why I am?" "I don't think so; we couldn't do that." "But everything else you could do?" "Have already, I think. Just the cucumbers. Oh, we can't forget them in the minibar." "But then tell her that I did that to that one?" "Don't have to tell her that either, also that you helped me use it." "Thanks. I don't mind - I think - her knowing what else we do." "Nothing she doesn't do with her brother." "Just keep it in the family." "If she wanted me to know what they do, she'll like that we have." "Now rinse your head. I give up on trying wash it like it needs to be." "Hm-hmm! Should have thought of that a week ago." "Didn't know it needed it back then." "My good luck!" she remarked with a grin. "Mine too!" She rinsed her hair and they finished their shower. While he shaved, she used the hair dryer. Her panties were dry, except for the last pair, which he suggested she put on hanger in the closet. They got dressed. When they were about to leave the room, he looked out and saw the cart of the room staff at the other end of the corridor, and they hurried to the elevator without seeing anyone. After breakfast, they found the museum of "pietra dura," with its exhibition of inlaid colored stone and how the work is done. Her father insisted on buying her a small broach, a pin but also with a ring that could be hung on a chain. She handed him her gold chain and he put it on it, letting her rehook the chain. She stroked it with a sweet smile, thanking him, and agreed that was an unmistakable souvenir from Florence - and of their week there together. When her nipples popped out, he smiled and nodded, then whispering: "Don't wet them." Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 07 She shook her head, then nodded slightly, and whispered back: "Maybe if I try." "Think about something else." "Cucumbers?" "I didn't wash your head good enough!" She shook it vigorously, her clean locks moving, as she grinned at him. He shrugged with smile. They spent the rest of their last day together in Florence in a quieter mood, exchanging fond glances, but without any innuendos about nudes or what they had done. Back in the hotel, they had another spritz in the bar. When he raised his glass, she asked: "Venice?" "Venice," he replied, and they drank. When he suggested that they have a festive final dinner, she demurred, saying that she didn't want so much to eat, didn't want to have such a full stomach. It was a very oblique suggestion that she hoped they would do something after dinner, their last night together. Her father smiled with a nod. She thought that they could have gone back to their room, maybe just to use the bathroom, but he said that he was going to the men's room, so she also used the ladies' room in the hotel. When they left the hotel, he immediately took her hand, a little to her surprise, clasping his and looking over at him. He smiled and murmured: "I just hope that anyone thinks I'm so lucky to have a young girlfriend." "And the other way," she murmured, and they clasped hands again. After a few steps, she murmured: "And I won't tease the waiter - want him to think so too." "He will, if he sees the way I look at you." "And make them pop out?" "If they want to." "They have already," she murmured. He didn't look, and they found a modest restaurant. When the waiter suggested a table for them, he looked at her and asked: "Where do you want to sit, dear?" She smiled and gestured to a table in a back corner. The waiter smiled and ushered them there, handing them their menus and immediately lighting the candle on the table. When he left them, her father murmured: "Haven't called anyone 'dear' in years." "No one ever has, me." "Dear Kitten." She purred, blushing. In the candle light, they chose light items, agreeing to share them. When the waiter asked about wine, her father looked at her and said: "Let's have a better bottle, instead of house wine." She nodded and replied: "Whatever you want, anything you want." When he chuckled softly, she realized how her remark could be misconstrued. She hadn't intended that, just wanted the waiter to think that she was a young girlfriend, letting her older friend make all the decisions. And if he did, she was. Maybe she didn't let her father make all the decision, no, definitely not. They wouldn't be like they were together, if she hadn't insisted on wanting to sleep with him, telling him that she wanted to suck his cock...! Forget it! Moist panties! But they were going to do it like that again, their last night like their first one. Luckily, her father was choosing a wine, not seeing her blushing in the candle light. Until Venice, she added to her thoughts. They had a very nice meal, chuckling and smiling at each other. He toasted her with an expression that would not have been appropriate for a daughter, and she made remarks that suggested that she didn't know him that well, asking about his family, and hearing that he had a daughter a little younger than she was. She replied that his daughter had a very nice father. He countered that he hoped that his daughter didn't know what a nice young girlfriend he had. They almost had to laugh at their conversation, when he said that he would never let his daughter go without bra and looked at her breasts, waiting for her nipples to pop out. When they did, he said that was why he wouldn't. She then asked if she had a nice figure. "Very nice," he replied, then adding that he, at least, thought so, that he couldn't be sure. When the waiter came with the bill, they were served generous grappas, and the waiter got a generous tip. Outside the restaurant, he took her hand again, and they then did laugh, surprising people on the street. When she asked if his daughter was still a virgin, they continued their conversation, he asking how he should know. She agreed that that wasn't something a young girl would tell her father. He replied that maybe she wasn't, that he could imagine that some younger - or older - man would want to sleep with her. "Then she probably isn't, if you can think that," she replied. "If you sleep with me, maybe you're right." "You wouldn't mind, if she isn't any more?" "Guess not, just envious of the man who does." "Shouldn't think about your daughter that way." "Too late, I have, I am," her father agreed, squeezing her hand. They both chuckled and hurried along back to their hotel, almost forgetting to let go of each other's hand as they entered the lobby. In the elevator, she continued their conversation: "Maybe your daughter does too, think about you that way." "You think she could?" "If I can?" "That would be nice, 'very nice', if she thought about me that way." "Maybe I can tell her, if you really want to?" "Oooh! Really want to sleep with my daughter?" They had to hurry to their room to continue, she then replying: "If she also really wanted to - to sleep with you?" "You could think that she would? But she's so young; it probably wouldn't be as good as with you." "Only one way to find out," she replied, smirking, as she struggled to pull up her blouse without unbuttoning. They both chuckled heartily, he unbuckling his pants, while he watched her give up and unbutton it. When she flipped it open, he grinned and remarked: "Now I am sure that she has a 'very nice' figure." "Hm-hmm! Why you like mine, 'cause it's so much like your daughter's." "I guess so. But I can't imagine that she would want to do what you do." "Just ask her, tell her." "Oh! I couldn't tell her that!" They were almost naked. She stripped off her panties, then chuckled and said: "If her panties get moist from thinking about you?" "But she still wouldn't want to do that." "You'll never know, if you don't ask her." "Like you do? I can't ask her to suck my cock." "Maybe it wouldn't be the first one, since you don't know if she is still a virgin. Got to go." She rushed to the bathroom, chuckling, waiting for his reply. It came after a moment: "Oh! Maybe she still is, but has done that." "Your good luck, then, and she would surely want you to do it to her, if she was still trying remain virgin." "Oooh! That would be nice. Then we wouldn't have to really... Oh, but if she did that and someone did that to her, seems very unlikely that she would still be a virgin." "Very true. I wasn't, after we'd done that, well, shortly thereafter." "My good luck! But don't I want my daughter to still be a virgin?" Her father was in the bathroom, using the washbasin. She snickered and replied: "If you both did that with each other, would you really want her to still be virgin?" "You want me to do THAT with her, my daughter?" "If she wanted you to, your then - what's the word? - already 'defiled' daughter?" "Were you 'defiled'?" "Hm-ummm! I wanted it! Shouldn't have used that word. If your daughter had done all that, she would want to, too." "Want me to... her?" "If I did, do." "We're talking about my daughter." "Same difference; I'm one too." "And wanted to sleep with your father?" "Didn't have a brother." "Would have slept with him, if you had?" "Know a girl who has, does. He's good." "She told you?" "Yeah, well, but he is." "You've slept with him too?!" "Why not, since they wanted me to." "You're something! I guess that's why it's so good with you." "It is with you too, thank goodness, but it hasn't sounded like it was that good before." "It wasn't, thank you." "Why we're so compatible." "Very, but you think my daughter would want to do that to me, and then want me to do it to her, and then...? "If she is anything like me, that is exactly what she would want." "And you are! Enough charade! Come: suck my cock, and let me lick your sweet, pretty pink pussy - my Kitten's - and then fuck me!" "Daddy! You can be so direct sometimes!" "After all our pretending? Too much fun, would be fun to continue, but we have to get up early and pack and catch the train." "Pity, kind of ruined the fun, but that's all I have been thinking about since I said 'whatever you want, everything you want'." "I heard you - that way. Sorry for breaking the spell." "But I want to, just like that, just like the first night, when I had to tell you." "And now I have told you. Can't tell you about my thoughts about you after you almost kissed me, when I told you about the school." "And I wanted to! We will!" They rushed back to the other bed, nothing modest or tentative about the way he lay down and spread his thighs to let her crouch between them and find his already swelling cock with her hand. She sucked and licked, almost desperately. On and off, since she had thought about doing this in the restaurant, she had been looking forward to having his cock in her mouth. Now it was there, and the sooner she made it fill her mouth, the sooner she could sit on his face, just like he had said that he wanted to. Maybe after that, fucking, they could slow down and enjoy that differently. But now! For a moment, she did have to chuckle, recalling their conversation about whether his daughter - maybe still a virgin - would want to suck his cock. She wasn't, she did. He asked why she had chuckled. She raised her head licking her lips and grinning: "Just wanted to tell you your daughter is not a virgin. Right now, I think she would want to suck your cock, even if she still were one." "Hm-hmm! That's a relief to know. Sorry to have interrupted you." "Don't do it again, even something else occurs to me that makes me chuckle." "Better ask now, then. Do you think she would want to sit on my face and let me lick her pussy, even if she were still a virgin?" "She did - not sitting on your face - when she still was, lots of times." "Wicked girl! Probably wanted to a lick a pussy, herself." "That too, also lots of times. Any more questions?" "If anything occurs to me, I'll try to remember later." She nodded and had his cock back in her mouth, thinking now also to fondle his balls. His interrupting her let her remember that she was doing it for him, not just selfishly for herself, as much as she was looking forward to making him come in her mouth for the last time - until they were in Venice. She slowed down, appreciating the sensations in her mouth, on her tongue - and that his cock twitched and that she was making him moan, moaning with him. When his sack drew up, she even paused her sucking and licking and caught a fold on his tight sack with her thumb and two fingers and pulled, getting a better grip and stretching his sack, until it was slack again, and she could jostle his balls. His hand fondled her hair, and she heard his "um-hmm." Yes, she was really doing this for him, but it was going to be so good, when he came and she could feel and taste how good he came. She sucked and licked. His hand - hands, both of them! - were encouraging her to bob her head on his cock. Fuck his cock with her mouth. She let his hands move her head, her other hand grasping his cock to keep him from forcing it too far down on his cock; she didn't want gag on it, just wanted it shoot in her throat, maybe twice, but she wanted the rest in her mouth to slosh around and savor. She wasn't disappointed; it was more than the previous evening, when he had already come once before. For a moment, she had a bad thought: did she just love it that way, or love it, because her father had come in her mouth? She let his moans and fondling her hair make her prefer the latter. She forgot entirely about that, however, when his hands urged her to move up over him. She had told him that she was going to kiss him, not at the time thinking about it's being with his semen in her mouth - but all the better! She rose up and dove down on him, finding his mouth with hers. It was a sloppy kiss; she just wanted her tongue in his mouth, not worrying about spilling some, but enough slid into his mouth to make him chuckle and move it with his tongue. His hands had slid down to her ass. He slapped it, hard, making her start with a squeal and rocking her hips down on him. He slapped with his other hand. This time, she just started with a chuckling moan. Then his hands grasped the cheeks of her ass at the crease to her thighs and urged her to move up on him. She nodded and retrieved her tongue from his mouth and drew her knees up. Now it was her turn - or his, if he liked to lick her pussy as much as she liked to suck his cock. A few seconds later, his hands were guiding her hips down on his mouth, and his tongue was lapping up the length of her aroused pussy. She moaned, rocking her hips down, wanting his tongue to immediately arouse her where it best could. It did for a moment, and he moaned with her, but then his tongue lapped back, and his hands urged her to move forward a little, and were drawing the cheeks of her ass apart. He wanted to lick her there, too. She nodded with a chuckling moan and let him move her so that he could, further up over his face, so that he could turn it up let his tongue find her asshole. She responded with another chuckling moan. They both knew how that felt, like the girl-girl thing with Marlie - the only thing he and she could share like that. He must like what she had done; his tongue was doing it all it could there, but they both knew it wasn't going to give her orgasm and let her pussy flood his face. She knew how much she liked it when Marlie's flooded hers - something else he and she could share. She rocked her hips back. His hands let her move back, his tongue probing in her wet opening a couple of time, then lapping up and touching her where it could give her an orgasm. She moaned and held his arms, urging his hands to slide up and fondle her breasts. They only needed the slightest encouragement, immediately finding them, first holding them, then his fingers arousing her hard nipples. She moaned again with her hands on his, and her pussy rocked on his mouth. Her mother didn't want him to let her have an orgasm this way?! Bad luck, Mom, your daughter does! She has, and she knows how good it's going to be - again! And she knows how much he likes to do it and wants her to! Then she stopped thinking about anything except the increasingly arousing sensations she was feeling, moaning in her anticipation that they would get even better, excruciatingly better. When they started to, she grasped the back of his head, gasping and beginning to whimper, raising his head, as her hips ground her pussy on his mouth. She wanted it to continue, but her pussy wanted its orgasm, desperately wanted it, had to have it! Her body convulsed. She gasped and almost cried, feeling her pussy juice squirt. Her pussy had won, but it was so good! And again! Her body jerked. Enough! She dropped his head and collapse on the pillow above it, turning her pussy off his mouth. His hands slid down and held her ass. Only when she heard him moan with long sighs, did she remember that it was her father who had been licking her pussy and had given her such a good orgasm, another such a good orgasm. Then for some long moments, she recovered - thoughtless - just letting her breathing and racing pulse return to normal. "I want to fuck you." She heard a muffled voice - her father's she recognized, her mind starting to function again, then remembering that they had wanted to do that too. He still did, had just said it. Of course, he did, his cock aroused from his licking her pussy. And she did too, in principle, just not feeling his necessity to have another orgasm. But she had anticipated that at the start, she recalled, that then - now - their last fuck could be more leisurely than her desperately having wanted to make him come in her mouth and then to have her own orgasm on his. These thoughts rushed through her mind, as she felt his hands slide up past her hips and urge her to move down his body. She murmured: "I do too, want to fuck you." He moaned and raised her hips, helping her crawl backwards over him. She looked down at him, Their eyes met, neither smiling, as she felt his hand reach down under her and find his cock and hold it up to her pussy. She nodded and rocked her hips. When she felt the head of his cock on her opening, she nodded again with a soft "um-hmm" and lowered her hips. They both moaned, as his cock slid slowly into her, still looking in each other's eyes, just nodding. She felt his cock twitch and nodded in response, wondering he had made twitch or whether it had been reflex. She had to make her pussy squeeze it, and he nodded. Then after a moment, he asked softly: "What do you want to do? Want to rub yourself?" "Not now. Can you sit up again, so we can kiss, and you can suck them?" He nodded with slight smile, and his hands slid up and fondled her breasts. Then he chuckled and said: "Whatever you want, anything you want," the words she had said in the restaurant. "Mmmm! I've had everything I could want,... and more, but like in the song: 'Do that to me one more Time'." "Hmm? Is that the kind of songs you girls listened to in prep school?" "One girl had the record, and we listened to it, snickering, maybe blushing a little." "Can't be 'one more time' unless there was a first time. All of you blushing virgins?" "Not sure. If we're going to talk, maybe I should rub." "Good idea. It's fun talking with you, especially this way," he replied, fondling her breasts. She nodded and reached down, her fingers finding where to rub. For a few moments, they didn't speak, just exchanging mild moans when they felt her pussy respond. When his cock twitched, he murmured: "Very good idea." "Um-hmm," she agreed, then adding: "Like I want it to be, wanted it to be, thinking about it, while I was sucking your cock, so eager to make you come, wanting it in my mouth, then thinking that this could be more leisurely." "Nice, very nice. Hm-hmm! Not just them, but what you were doing, and now to hear that you want this to be like that." "It is being, and what you did was also 'very nice' - British understatement." "How I also meant it." They both smiled, and she rubbed more consciously, with better effect and their accompanying moans. Then he murmured: "If you want me to sit, you're going to have stop that." "Um-hmm," and you're going to have to make sure we don't forget where they are." "If I can do 'whatever you want, anything you want'." "Mmmm! You can! Don't have to tell you how." They chuckled, grinning. His hands left her breasts and slid around under her arms, holding to help him sit up. She drew her knees up and got her feet behind him. When her thighs squeezed him, he chuckled and asked: "Better than holding your big stuffed elephant?" "A whole lot better!" "Kiss or suck?" "Whatever doesn't let your cock forget." "Your pussy won't?" "Not if your cock doesn't." "Maybe I can help them both," he murmured, and his hand slid down her back. She nodded with a moan, waiting for his fingers to find her asshole. Oh yes! They would make it twitch and contract - just one of them especially! - and make her pussy clutch his cock. They both moaned with chuckles, when one did. She turned her face up to his, licking her lips. When he kissed her, and their tongues caressed, she suddenly wondered about wanting to kiss her father in response to his arousing her that way. He was fine with it, however, chuckling as his tongue probed at the same time his finger did. Oooh! He had quickly brought his hand up and was sticking his finger in her mouth. She sucked and slobbered on it, and then it was back on her asshole, wet, probing better than before. "Uhnnn!" Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 07 "Suck!" she demanded softly, leaning back, so that he could lower his head and suck her breasts. He did. They weren't going to talk anymore; enough of her idea of leisurely fuck. How long could she - could they - stand just being aroused this way, feeling her pussy squeezing his throbbing cock? Maybe they could just come that way, but she want everything, wanted to feel his cock plunging in and out her pussy! She drew her feet back from around him and leaned forward, urging him to drop back on the bed. When he did, and she dropped down over him, his cock slipped out. They both gave a disappoint sharp moan, but his finger was still in her. Her hand shot down between them and put it back in her pussy, and they both then gave a satisfied moan, as her hips sank down on his, feeling his cock twitch in her. They held still, his finger too, and his cock twitched again. She didn't want to say it again, but when he did, she did: "Fuck!" "Fuck!" They did, with all the experience of their week together, their hips moving in the same tempo, slapping together, as they moaned, too aroused to kiss. She licked his lips once, but the movement of their hips, and the arousal they were sharing, was too great to allow them to do more. Then suddenly, he groaned, and his hips began to move faster than hers could. She gasped, just letting him fuck her, beginning to whimper again, between her gasps. Fuck! It was going to happen! It was! Her pussy was overflowing! And he was grunting! God yes! Come with me! That was her last conscious thought, as she collapsed on him, lying inert, her stomach still heaving, his stomach rising and falling under her. Minutes later, when she felt his hands fondle the cheeks of her ass, she realized that she hadn't been aware that his finger had slipped out. His cock had also slipped out, and her legs were extend, which she also hadn't noticed that she had done. His hands were just gently rubbing her ass. It had to have been as good for him, just had to have been, their last fuck. She just lay on him, sighing. When his hands urged her to slid of him, she did, lying with her head on his shoulder and her arm around him, and fell asleep with her thigh drawn up over his. When she woke up, he had rolled away from her, but she was curled up close behind him, her arm still around him. She didn't want to open her eyes, but did. It was dawning. They were going to have to get up and pack. Their week together was ending. She moaned and rubbed her fingers on him. "Awake?" he murmured. "Um-hmm, wish I weren't." "Me too.... Last shower together?" "If it has to be?" "Till Venice," he murmured and reached back and rubbed her hip." She sighed warmly and hugged him. He rubbed her hip again, but then slapped it lightly and said: "But I've got to go." "Uhn! Why do I then also have to?" They got up and went to the shower, and "went" without comment, also silent during their shower. While he shaved, she began to pack, finding her panties, but not putting anything on until he returned to the room. They just glanced at each other and got dressed and packed in silence. On the way to breakfast, she stroked the broach on her chain and smiled at him. He smiled with a nod and said: "Nicest things I ever gave you." "Very nicest," she agree. At breakfast, he only mentioned when their train left, looking at his watch and saying that they had ample time. Back in their room, they made sure they had everything. She suddenly remembered the cucumbers and got them, opening her suitcase and stuffing them in. They both chuckled. He left a tip for the maid and carried their suitcases to the elevator. He paid the bill, and the doorman flagged a cab for them. They caught their train and were silent with their thoughts, only agreeing to go to the dining car. When they waited to be served, he murmured: "Talked enough last night." "Um-hmm," she agreed, nodding and stroking the broach again. In Geneva, they took a cab to her school outside of town. She wondered if Marlie would be there to greet her, but she couldn't know when they would arrive, then recognizing that after all the talk with her father about her, it would be better that he didn't have to greet her. They arrived. There were other people arriving after the Easter break. She couldn't kiss her father the way she wanted to, but embraced him better than the other girls were to tell their fathers goodbye. He whispered in her ear: "I know. I wanted to too. Thank you for everything, till Venice." "Mmmm! Not more than I wanted to. Till Venice." The taxi was waiting to take him back to Geneva. When they waved goodbye, she stroked her broach again. ***** There will be a sequel to this story, the title also "Kitten...". The rest of the title is still undecided.