2 comments/ 13785 views/ 1 favorites Those Days of...Ch. 16-20 By: TonyDowse Those Days of...Ch. 16-20 Then she arched backwards, her hands reaching behind herself, grabbing hold of my body for support, and, as she did that, she must have treated Helen to an even clearer view of my red and swollen shaft disappearing up into her daughter"s pussy. I saw Helen move towards us and while one hand continued flashing in and out of her own cunt, she reached out with the other. She must have used it to lightly caress Barbara's rigidly swollen clit with the flat of her fingers because the next moment Barbara again went over the top. She literally screamed at the intensity of what ripped through her and rammed herself down so hard on to me that I felt sure she was stripping the skin from my cock. Although the mix of pleasure and pain I was getting from those fiery sensations was incredible, after what they had both already done to me all my body wanted was to feel the relief of my own orgasm, and luckily just then I felt Helen's fingers curling around the tightly swollen sac and squeezing it. The result was the most overwhelming sensation my body had ever experienced. Helen's sudden, unexpected and rhythmic grip finally brought a thick, seething mass of semen scorching up through my tortured shaft, to explode deep in the heart of Barbara's cunt in a series of body-wracking blasts. And as Barbara felt that happening she somehow managed to constrict the convulsing muscles in her cunt even harder, their contraction adding to what Helen was doing to my balls, the combination forcing another, another and still another scalding load up out of me, and I heard Barbara whimpering happily as it flooded every nook and cranny of her still pulsating cunt. When the shuddering power of what we had experienced together finally abated Barbara lifted herself upright again, then leaned forward and embraced Helen. They clung to each other, Barbara's body still shaking uncontrollably from it's reaction to the forces that we had unleashed inside it, while I lay still, trying to get my breath back, giving my pounding heart a chance to slow down again. Then through the mist of exhausted pleasures I heard Helen's voice saying to Barbara. "Just stay there a moment, I'll get a wet cloth and a towel for you." and while she was doing that Barbara turned around and looked back down at me with a tired smile of happiness. "O.K. Roger?" I nodded, grinned and replied. "Much more than O.K. Barbara, and you?" "Better than I ever dreamed it would be. And it's still early yet." she added, her eyes sparkling wickedly. Helen returned and helped us to clean and dry ourselves and as she attended to my cock and balls I took that opportunity to hug and kiss her, feeling her wriggle herself closer to me as my arms pulled her tight. "From what I could see you got almost as much of a charge out of watching us as we did from doing it." I whispered. "I couldn't believe just how excited it made me lover. An absolutely incredible experience. I would never have believed I was capable of reacting like that. I just had to get myself off." I let go of her, swung myself down off the bed and went across to the table on the other side of the room. "Rest and refreshment ladies." I said, pouring wine for all of us and lighting cigarettes. We settled ourselves on the bed, Helen and I sitting next to each other, Barbara sitting cross-legged to one side, and in that position of course she gave me a perfect view of not only her stunning breasts but also, between the wide vee of her thighs, her trim pubic hair and below, her unshaven pussy which I could see was still dark and swollen from its arousal. For a while nobody said anything, each just relaxing, sipping the cool wine, but after a few minutes Barbara broke the silence. She had been staring down at my cock, which of course then lay shrunk and wilted, looking up and catching my eye, she said. "It's an amazing thing isn't it?" "What?" "A man's cock. It's hard to believe that poor little, defenceless looking thing was such a powerful weapon only a few minutes ago. I couldn't believe how big you got Roger. I never imagined you were so well endowed, now I understand why Mum fell for you in such a big way so quickly. It's lucky for her that I didn't get to you first, I would have raced you off somewhere, locked you away, she would have never seen you again." I couldn't help chuckling at her enthusiastic speech. "I think you're exaggerating a bit Barbara." I answered modestly. "She's not!" Broke in Helen. "I probably haven't actually seen as many as Barbara has, she was a very active girl for a while there, but I'd have to agree with what she said. You do get very, very big when you get really excited darling." "I've always heard women saying that it isn't the size that counts." That made both of them chuckle, then Barbara replied. "I think that's partly true. If a man is a good lover then it probably doesn't really matter just how big his cock is, but if he is a good lover, and he has a big one, wow! Just having a big cock isn't good in itself, a man has to know what to do with a woman. But of course bigger is better, if everything else is right too, as it is with you." "So long as the ladies in my life are satisfied, that's the main thing." "But what about the other way around, are you satisfied with the ladies in your life?" Barbara asked. "What a question! You must have noticed just how 'satisfied' you made me." "To be truthful I was a bit busy at the time. But yes I suppose you did seem to come pretty powerfully." she answered in such a seriously thoughtful tone of voice that I couldn't stop myself from laughing. Reaching forwards I put my hand around her, pulled her towards me and kissed her. "If you couldn't tell that I very nearly blew myself apart then you're nowhere near as experienced as you think you are Barbara." She grinned back at me. "O.K. - but you have to remember that regardless of what Mum said I've only had one other man actually fuck me." For a moment I was worried that her mention of what had taken place between Luke and herself would put a dampener on the atmosphere we had created for the three of us, but was relieved when Helen seemed to take it in her stride and Barbara added gaily. "Not that I intend to leave things like that of course, now I've broken the spell, or whatever it is that's been bugging me, I intend to catch up on what I've been missing out on for the last year or two. And." She added in that more serious tone. "I've got you two to thank for helping me out of that state." Then, her voice reverting to its more usual bright and bouncy sound. "How about some more wine for everyone?" I couldn't stop my eyes following her as she crossed the room and re-filled the glasses. Her body was stunningly beautiful and the way her bottom wiggled and her breasts jiggled and swayed as she moved made my mouth go dry with the thought of making love with her again. Helen must have been able to read my mind because she snuggled closer and whispered. "She is lovely isn't she. I bet you are already wondering when you'll be ready to start again." Looking sideways I saw her grinning at me mischievously. "Not a bad guess. How about you?" I replied. "What do you mean?" "You must have wondered about what she did for Julia would feel like. Whether she'd do the same for you." Her brow furrowed and for a moment I thought I had made her angry, but then she gave me a long, slow wink and said. "I've already asked her, that's coming soon now. And, if you're very good, we might just let you watch." Adding. "You'd like that wouldn't you." She hadn't asked a question because she knew damn well what my answer was, she remembered the reaction I had told her I'd had that Saturday afternoon, when I had caught Barbara and Julia together. How I'd wanted to plunge into one or other of Barbara's inviting holes and how explosively I had masturbated. So I was to be treated to the sight of Mother and daughter getting each other off. Which of them would make themselves available to me during that I wondered. "Anyone fancy a snack? To replenish their energy." Barbara asked as she carried the glasses back. Although I wasn't really hungry I felt I needed something sweet, to replace the energy I'd just used, so all three of us headed for the kitchen and then, as we sat around the kitchen table sipping our wine and nibbling on whatever we each fancied, I had to pinch myself to believe this was really happening to me. A nakedly gorgeous woman sitting on either side of me, breasts swaying freely as they ate, drank and chatted, beneath the level of the table-top, the rest of their inviting and welcoming bodies available for virtually anything I could think of or, to be more practical, I was capable of. But right then, in spite of the sight and availability of both of them I had to admit to myself that after the thorough draining they had only just given me, I wasn't going to be of too much use to either them or myself for a while. So, when I we had finished eating, I thought it might be an appropriate time for me to allow them to spend a little time together, and for me to recover. "That was just what I needed." I said, turning to smile at each of them in turn. "But right now I also need a little 'rest and recuperation' time. So, if you don't mind I might just take myself off for a quick snooze, to re-charge the batteries you understand. I'm sure that if all else fails you've got lots of things to talk about." Neither of them made any sort of objection so I left them together and headed not for the main bed-room but for Barbara's, leaving the large bed for whatever they might wish to use it for. It was strange, standing naked in the middle of her room. I had been in there a number of times of course and knew the decor and furniture as well as any other room in the flat, but standing there like that, having only just had what I'd have to call the fuck of my life, and knowing that I could soon be having another with either she or Helen, was a very strange feeling. I knew there was no rush, that before doing anything else they would, like any two women, talk, and probably in far more gory detail than any men ever would. So I gave myself time to get the feeling of being 'at home' in Barbara's room, picking up some of her things, wondering where they had come from and who had bought them for her and when. Sooner or later of course I found myself looking through the clothes she had still left there, smelling her distinctively feminine scent, imagining the dress falling around her body, the blouse fitting over her breasts. And that led to opening drawers, not even admitting to myself that I was searching for those that held her underclothes, that is until I found it. And then I couldn't deny it, even to myself! Most of her under-things too were by now at Julia's, my house, but there were still some, maybe those she considered were too old, not pretty enough. The reasons didn't matter, she had once worn them. The skimpy bra had held her incredible breasts. The frilly panties had covered her pussy. I handled them, smelled them, imagined her putting them on, imagined her standing there, wearing them, and then imagined her taking them off, for me! I turned back the covers on her bed, pulled her pillow up behind my head and, with a few of her things in my hands and the scenes they in turn aroused, in my head, I fell into a light sleep. It wasn"t that much later when I woke again, feeling refreshed, my hands still clutching Barbara's under-things. It may have only been a short, shallow sleep but it had been quite deep enough for me to have a vivid dream, a dream that had included a wide variety of breasts, pussies and arses. Though just what I had done with them wasn't too clear. But the fact that my cock was again partially erect proved that at least something had happened inside my head, and even more importantly, that my body was already sufficiently recuperated to tackle whatever other pleasures the evening and the girls, had in store for me. However, by the time I had gone through to the bath-room, freshened myself up and had a much needed piss, my cock had reverted to normal again, but the knowledge that I was fully functional gave me the confidence to go looking for the girls. Chapter 18 Mother and Daughter I suppose I had expected to find Helen and Barbara in a position similar to the one I had found Julia and Barbara in, hard at it with each other. If so I should have been disappointed to hear the sound of their voices, talking in quite normal tones, but the fact that the sounds were coming from the bed-room rather than the kitchen gave me encouragement. I doubted they would have heard me going to the bath-room so made my way quietly to the half open bed-room door and stood outside, listening. They say that an eavesdropper hears no good about them self, well that occasion may have been the exception that proves the rule, they were talking about me, and Luke, comparing the two of us. I was pleased in more ways than one by that, the fact that Barbara was finally able to talk out some of her long buried guilt with Helen was a good sign for both of them. The fact that it sounded as though I was coming out well in the comparison was a nice ego boost for myself. That they were talking about sex rather than fashions meant their minds were still operating in the same mode as mine was. After a few minutes I noticed that the conversation was becoming less fluid, there were longer silences between them, sometimes one or the other would pause in mid-sentence and I wondered if their hormones were taking over from their brain cells. I gave them a few more minutes then, during the next pause in their conversation, I carefully peeped around the door-frame. They were lying side by side, both had their eyes closed, each had one hand resting on the other's body, both moving slowly, hesitantly, almost experimentally. But even as I watched I noticed that Barbara's caresses were becoming more confident and from Helen's reactions it was plain that they were also being effective, and after another couple of minutes Barbara moved herself around so that her hands had freer access to Helen and she bent and began to lightly lick her breasts and nipples. Helen sighed deeply as she felt those new sensations, Barbara's touch would obviously be quite different to mine, her skin softer, her hands feminine, her touch more knowing of just what felt best for a woman. And though I could see that Helen was quickly becoming aroused, Barbara was in no hurry, her caresses were designed to produce a long slow rise, not a short, sharp thrill. I watched what she did very carefully, not only because I found the sight of it exciting, which it certainly was, but also out of real interest, taking mental notes so I could make what I did for Helen even better some other time. By the time Barbara's fingers finally slipped down between Helen's thighs and began to flutter over and around her pussy I could tell from the way her body reacted that Helen was quickly approaching her orgasm. Barbara realised that too and again shifted her position, turning herself so that she could get her head down between Helen's wide-spread thighs, and reach her sex with her tongue. The effect was instantaneous, Helen's cries of delight immediately became sharper and louder and her hands went around Barbara's head, pulling it closer, holding it tightly against herself, giving herself up to the waves of pleasure that then began to roll fiercely through her body. Almost before they had completely finished, Helen had slid out from under Barbara, kneeled in front of her, hugged and kissed her, and then confidently began to return some of the thrills Barbara had just given her. I watched enviously as she fondled the firm curves of Barbara's glorious breasts, the nipples were already erect and Helen nipped and rolled them between her finger-tips before lowering her head to nibble and suck at them. While her mouth was tasting first one, then the other her hands were slipping lightly over every part of Barbara's body, tracing patterns, following curves, slipping into folds and crevices, teasing, fondling and arousing her. Looking down at myself I saw that the erection I had earlier woken with had returned, and with a vengeance! Watching the two of them making love to each other had been even more stimulating than I had imagined it might be and my inner, mounting excitement had brought my external equipment to an advanced state of readiness. But until then I hadn't been able to do anything with it, none of the positions the girls had taken up had given me access to either one of them. Then, as if responding to that thought, Helen spread Barbara"s legs and moved round to kneel between them. At first she remained almost upright, sweeping her hands up over Barbara's body but after a couple of minutes she shifted further down the bed and bent forward, pressing her lips to the silky smooth skin on Barbara's inner thighs. And as she bent low and her bottom rose I couldn't help being reminded of the scene I had been confronted with that fateful Saturday, when I had returned home to find Barbara in that very same position, between Julia's legs. Helen's tightly rounded arse was pointing straight towards me, just as Barbara's had been, providing me with an unobstructed view of both the tightly wrinkled hole between the generous curves of her buttocks and the thick covering of dark, curly hair around her pussy. As I stood there listening to the growing sounds of their mutual pleasure and drinking in the view of herself that Helen was giving me, I felt that familiar inner surge as my cock reared even higher and my balls grew even heavier. When I saw that Helen had begun to lick teasingly around Barbara's pink-lipped pussy I could no longer hold myself back and, stepping into the room and kneeling behind her, I began to kiss and lick Helen. Of course my first unexpected touch made her start with surprise, but as I began running my tongue up and down the area between her pussy and the hole between her bum-cheeks I heard her gurgling sounds of pleasure. The muskiness of her body thrilled me but didn't surprise me, the scent of the climax Barbara's fingers and tongue had produced still lingered and I had guessed that her pussy would still be wet and pouting. I had learned from watching the two of them together that they preferred to take their time, so kept my need and eagerness in check and patiently licked my way up and down that narrow channel. But after only the first couple of strokes I felt Helen slowly moving her arse in response to the pleasure I was giving her and when, every now and then I let my tongue poke stiffly at that smaller hole, her whole body shuddered in reaction to the sensations that triggered for her. It was only when I eventually heard the distinctive sounds of Barbara's cries of pleasure getting louder that I stood up and, taking my long-suffering cock in one hand, felt down between Helen's spread thighs with the other, gently parted her wet and swollen pussy-lips and nudged my bulging cock-head between them. Then, with a slow, powerful thrust, I slid the full length into her, forcing it deeper, until I was stopped by the feel of the smooth silkiness of the back of her buttocks hard up against me. Once there, I paused, giving her time to adjust to the feel of me filling her from that angle but when I then felt her pushing her arse back against me, I began to slowly drive it in and out of her. I had taken a firm hold of her hips, partly so that as I thrust into her I wouldn't push her forwards against Barbara and also so that I could drive myself as hard into her as I needed, and, as I settled into a deeply satisfying rhythm I looked down, getting additional pleasure and excitement from the sight below. Those Days of...Ch. 16-20 Immediately below was the fleshy curve of Helen's buttocks, above them the long sweep of her back and shoulders which flexed as she absorbed the force of each of my forward thrusts, then her thick, wavy hair falling forwards, providing a sharp contrast to the fair, tanned skin of Barbara's stomach below. Higher still I could see Barbara's breasts, their firm, upswept curves tipped with dark red, erectly swollen nipples, and, higher still, her face, twisted from the growing intensity of what Helen's mouth and tongue were doing to her. Even as I was taking all that in I saw a sudden change sweep through Barbara. Her hands, which until then she had used to keep a tight grip of the sheet, grabbed hold of Helen's head and pulled it down even harder against her pussy, and as she did that I saw her face grimace and as her mouth gaped wide open she let out a long, wailing cry of sheer bliss. I had become so involved in the sight of them beneath me that I found I had been fucking Helen almost automatically, but seeing the actual moment of the start of Barbara"s climax suddenly made me aware of my own rapidly growing need and I realised that in fact my strokes had gradually become both faster and harder. As her climax continued on, turning into a series of seemingly endlessly rolling waves of pleasure and her cry changed to a series of low, almost despairing whimpers, I found that even over the sounds Barbara was making I could hear Helen's more muffled, gurgling sounds of satisfaction as she continued sucking at Barbara's pussy, while at the same time reacting to the growing power of the feel of my cock thrusting ever deeper into her. Then I felt the fingers of one of Helen's hands brush against my pistoning shaft, at first I thought she was reaching down to finger her clit but then I became confused when it felt as though she was trying to get hold of me, to stop me. With difficulty I did what I thought she wanted and when I had, I realised that she was actually holding my cock steady while she eased herself forwards, off it. Then when she felt my cock-head slip out of her pussy, she lifted it and began wiping it over and around the tight, wrinkled hole above, coating it with the slickness that had covered the entire length of me, and when she had done that, she pushed herself back against me. Something triggered a memory of that first Sunday morning together, when we had been talking about our likes and our fantasies, the quiet, shy way she had murmured - ".... ...... cock in my bottom." - and I suddenly realised what she wanted, she wanted me to fuck her arse! I didn't need any encouragement! Naturally, while I had been looking down at them below me I had, several times, found myself wondering what it would actually feel like up inside that tightest of entrances, now I was being given the chance to find out. So, letting go of her hips for a moment, I took over what she had been awkwardly trying to do, feeling her relax as she felt my hands and realised that I understood exactly what it was she wanted me to do. Reaching down beneath her I fingered her pussy, it was absolutely sopping wet, and having added her own juices to what she had succeeded in wiping off my cock and using them as lubricant, found I could, after a couple of firm pushes, quite easily open her up with my thumb. But when I tried to replace it with the larger mass of my cock I felt her tense momentarily, I waited and when I felt her relax again I used one hand to hold my cock steady and the other to hold her still, then slowly but surely forced the tip of it through the tight ring of muscle. Once I'd got most of the cock-head inside I found it was relatively easy to get the rest in too and it then only needed a firm, steady shove to open up the slick tunnel beyond, and it was only when my balls were jammed, almost painfully up against the back of her buttocks that the muscles locked back in place. The feeling was absolutely sensational! I paused for a moment, enjoying the unusual sensations that the much tighter fit of that part of her body gave me, then, once again taking a firm grip of her hips, I began to fuck her arse as she had wanted me too. I could hear myself grunting each time I forced myself deep into the hot tube-like tightness of her, feel the much stronger than usual waves of excitement that produced, feel the shock-waves of pleasure-pain shooting up through me each time my balls slapped hard up against her. Sweat broke out as I began to ride her faster and faster and then the ache in my balls grew and, as I felt the first powerful surge rising up through me I urged my cock even deeper into her shuddering body. Then, just as powerfully as the climax she and Barbara had given me earlier, it ripped through me. I felt Helen convulsing from the start of her own climax as the first load shot deep into her, felt it growing stronger as I drove on, frantically thrusting, ramming myself into her, balls and cock pumping out everything I had. Then, when I was virtually drained, as though it was trying to urge the last few, reluctant spurts out of me, I felt her arse rhythmically flexing tightly around my greasily pounding shaft. To say that we collapsed in an exhausted heap would be an under-statement. All three of us lay, panting for breath, occasionally shivering as after-shocks of what we had each experienced ran through our still sweating bodies. When my heart had got back to a more normal pace and sufficient strength had returned I got up, took the covers from the chair and, as I snuggled back down between the two of them, pulled them up over us all. We lay there for a while, chuckling and giggling as we fondled whatever part of whomever we could reach, but gradually even those pleasant activities slowed and, weary but very, very happy, one by one, we fell asleep in each other's arms. Chapter 19 Barbara's Story Something woke me, at first I didn't know what it could have been but then, as the memories of what had taken place earlier came flooding back I reached out and then found that there were only two of us in bed. It only took a moment to work out it was Barbara that was missing and at first I assumed she had needed to go to the bath-room but when I did hear sounds, I realised they were coming from the kitchen. Slipping out carefully, so as not to disturb Helen I padded across the darkened room, found my bath-robe and, closing the door behind me, went down the hall. She was making coffee, a light house-coat hid her exciting body but in spite of that and even in her sleep-tousled state, she managed to look quite gorgeous and when she heard me enter, she looked up and gave one of the most unimaginably brilliant smiles. "Hi! Like some coffee too?" "I'd love some Barbara. What woke you?" "Oh I think I was just too excited to sleep." she said and, having finished what she was doing, she turned, came towards me, flung her arms around me, hugged me hard and said. "Wasn't it simply the most wonderful experience you've ever had?" "By a long way Barbara. I could never have imagined anything could be as good as that." "It was good for Mum too, wasn't it." Remembering that Helen had been able to satisfy one of her private fantasies I gave a small chuckle as I said. "Oh yes, it was certainly good for her too." I paused and then added. "But I'm especially glad it was for you, it must have helped to get rid of some of the things that have been making you feel bad about yourself." She went quiet, still clinging to me, but obviously deep in thought and it was quite a while before she actually answered. "Yes. Yes you're right about that. Being able to share you with Mum seemed to unblock something deep inside me. I know it's silly, but that's caused so many problems during the last few years." "Do you want to talk about it?" "Yes I would actually, talking would probably help even more. I've never been able to tell anyone you see, certainly not Mum, not all of it anyway. With you it would be different somehow, I trust you. But it's a very long story and it"s very late." "None of us has to be up early tomorrow and in spite of all the energy I used I don"t really feel at all sleepy. So if you want to talk why don't we take the coffee and some biscuits into the lounge-room." "If you"re sure, I"d have to start at the beginning and that's a long, long time ago now. Could you stand that at this time of the morning?" I looked up at the clock on the wall, it was just after two o'clock, yet I felt quite fresh and coffee and a smoke would help even more, and of course I very much wanted to hear Barbara's story and doubted there would ever be a better chance. "I feel fine now, and I guess the adrenaline from all the excitement is still be running. So coffee, biscuits and story it is." I took one of the arm-chairs and Barbara curled herself up on the settee, the coffee on the table between us and as we settled ourselves, she began her story, as she had said, at the very beginning. "I had always loved my parents and I had always known I was adopted, though when I was very young I wasn't really sure what the word actually meant. I knew that the way Mum and Dad had me was somehow different to the way other parents had their children and even though I wasn't quite sure what that difference was, I had an impression that I had somehow been chosen by them, and in fact that made me feel very special. They always made a lot of fuss over me, gave me lots of hugs and kisses, Mum always made sure I was dressed nicely and fixed my hair just the way I liked her to. She was so lovely, warm and soft, I wanted to grow up looking just as beautiful as she was, and have someone love me as much as Dad loved her. Even when I was very young I could see how much he loved her by the way he looked at her and the way he touched and kissed her. When they thought I wasn't looking they'd kiss each other really hard, not just the little kisses they gave each other when I was with them, great big, proper kisses, that went on and on for a long, long time. They did other things too, touched each other in all sorts of places, and when I tried that on myself later I thought I could feel just a little bit of the nice feelings I could see they got when they did it to each other. Dad loved me too and though he was always good for a hug he was much more shy with me than he was with Mum. He always smelt nice, sort of musky and his face was often prickly, I liked the feel of that. And of course he was strong, so strong, he could pick me up, high above his head and spin me round, and when he did that it made me dizzy and gave me some of those nice feelings I got when I touched myself. Of course he could get angry with me, well not really angry, he'd put on this gruff kind of voice when I'd done something naughty, but it was never for very long. I knew that after a few minutes I only had to go up to him, hug him and say I was sorry and whatever I had done would be forgotten. But though it was obvious he loved me he was, as I said, much more shy with me than he was with Mum, much more careful about how much he hugged me, never gave me any of those big, long kisses he gave Mum. I suppose that deep down inside my head I wanted to be as important to him as Mum was, to share him more equally with her. Later, at school I learned what 'adopted' really meant but by then it made no difference to me, I couldn't imagine anyone else for Mum and Dad than the two I'd always known. I remember that it was when, as we started learning about sexuality and one of the nastier girls in class said my adopting parents hadn't had to do that to have me, I started thinking about my real mother and father. What they had done to make me, and then thought of Helen and Luke and wondered if they did it even though they already had a daughter. That's my first conscious memory of thinking about sex, which was all to do with making babies of course. Nobody had mentioned anything about it feeling good. Most of us naturally assumed it was incredibly painful and that it was something you did only because it was what you had to do to have babies. For a while I must have been a real pest, I'd creep around, trying to catch them. For some reason or other I thought that if they did it they'd be doing it any time and anywhere, the teacher hadn't once mentioned the word 'bed' during the talks. I did get to see them kissing and touching each other much more than I had before, and several times saw one or the other of them with a hand moving around inside or underneath the other's clothes. But I didn't see them actually doing it, not until quite a long time later, and by that time I knew a good deal more about it than as just the way babies were made. Other than that I don't really remember any terribly significant events during my early years, we seemed to be pretty happy most of the time and my memories are really only highlighted by the sorts of things most kids remember. I guess I was about thirteen or fourteen when things began to change, by then of course I knew everything there was to know about sex, or, like most kids of that age, thought I did. I was also going through that stage all girls seem to during puberty, rebelling against their mother. It's silly, underneath what was going on I loved her as much as ever, but at times it was as though there was someone else inside me, someone who was determined to make her as unhappy as possible. Whatever she asked me to do, I did the opposite, I did things just to get her angry, it was a crazy time, lots of shouting and tears. Poor Luke had no idea what was going on, and certainly hadn"t any way of doing anything about it. Most of that was of course caused by the fact that I was starting on the process that would make me a woman, I had my first period, my shape started to change and suddenly there were boys, all sorts of boys. I developed a bit quicker than most of the girls in my class, quicker and more obviously. It seemed to me that my breasts, waist and hips arrived virtually overnight, and the boys followed the next day. Two other things happened during that time, Mum started talking more seriously about sex, and Luke started to get tougher. Mum and I had always talked reasonably freely about our bodies, what different parts were for and later, what changes would happen inside me. She talked about sex too, but in an abstract kind of way, she was more personal than the teachers at school but still a bit remote. Once I started taking an interest in boys, and I suppose, more importantly, once they started taking an interest in me, she started being more direct, much more personal. She tried to explain how boys and girls had different attitudes to relationships and how that in turn affected the way they treated each other. A lot of it made good sense, but I was still in my rebelling mode and no matter how sensible what she was telling me might have been, I was determined to take no notice. The only thing I let her get through to me about sex was contraception, I knew the basics of course and also knew that I'd need her support if I wanted to get anything other than condoms, and, except in emergencies, to most of us the thought of having to use them was the pits. Not that I planned on getting myself screwed straight away, but I needed to be sure Mum would support me when the time came. The next few years were busy, a lot of fun, and a lot of tears and heart-ache too. I learned a lot about boys, and about other girls too, especially that when emotion comes in the door, friendship flies out of the window. As I said, during that time I started having problems with Luke too, previously I had always been able to get round him whenever I needed to, but suddenly it was as though he was a different man, much firmer with me, more strict, not as easy to persuade. Then I began to notice that I'd sometimes catch him looking at me in a strange way, and after a particularly bad row about coming home too late one night, suddenly the penny dropped. I realised he wasn't just worried about me, he was actually jealous of the boys I was going out with. And that meant he was starting to see me as a woman, and, from some of the looks I had seen in his eyes, as an attractive and desirable woman. I didn't set out to seduce him of course, I was just using the new weapon I found I had to get my way with him, as up to then I had always been able to do. I did some things quite unconsciously but I was quite deliberate about others, especially when Mum wasn't around. Like leaving my bed-room door half open when I was getting dressed, going between my bed-room and the bath-room in just my undies, leaving a couple of buttons on my blouse undone so I showed a bit of my new breasts, sprawling on the floor so he could see plenty of leg. They sound silly now, but at the time I could see from his almost pained reaction just how effective they were. Poor Dad, thinking back over that time, I must have got him worked up many times, and at the same time managed to make him feel incredibly frustrated. In between that I was experimenting like mad, with the best of the boys that came flocking around for me. I had decided that I'd have a go at anything, anything short of full-on sex that is. That gave me a fair amount of scope, as I was to find out for myself. I'm not really sure just why I'd decided to stay a 'virgin', what a stupid word, it means nothing at all if you think about it. Anyway, I'd made a sort of vow to myself, and I stuck to it, well for quite a while anyway. I remember the night I sat down and worked it all out, the scale of things I was prepared to do, and with whom. I had a sheet of paper, boys names down one side, things I'd let them do to me, or that I would do for them, down the other. It was quite a list, and thank heavens nobody but me ever saw it! And by the time I'd finished it I'd got myself off two or three times, from just thinking about a couple of the boys and what I wanted them to do for me. I used to have dreams about that list, that it was all happening, all at once, a whole bunch of boys around me, doing and letting me do all the things I had thought up, and the dreams I had were all very, very wet dreams. Anyway, when it came to putting the list into practice I had a few problems of course, some I had anticipated, others I hadn't. A boy I hadn't even included on the list turned out to be fantastic, one or two that I had, when it came to the real action, were absolute duds. Guys who looked terrific often turned out to be real dorks, had no idea where anything was, while another, who had absolutely nothing going for him in the looks department, wow! I just had to give his cock a quick feel and poweee, straight to the right spots. Somehow, even while all that was going on I managed to keep my reputation, don't ask me how, there were girls doing far less than I was who everybody said went all the way, and were considered nothing but sluts. That was the worse thing a girl could be known as, by either other girls or, funnily enough, the guys too. But, while I was jacking some of them off, sucking a few, and letting quite a lot of them feel almost any part of me they fancied, I was still considered one of the O.K. group of girls. So, by the time I was eighteen and in my last year of school, working just hard enough to get a sufficiently good pass to get me to the technical college course I had my heart set on, I considered myself to be reasonably experienced when it came to everything except full sex, and I'd seen enough action to have a pretty fair idea of just how I'd go at that too." She paused to take a drink which gave me time to settle the whirling images her story had already created inside my head. I'd created a picture of what I thought she must have looked like as a maturing school-girl, and adding the actions she had just told me about to that made me wish I had been fortunate enough to be one of the boys on that list of hers. I was still trying to imagine myself in that lucky position when she continued on with her story. Those Days of...Ch. 16-20 "Like every other school, we had an end of year Formal for the school-leavers, ours was to be at one of the better hotels in the city, sit-down dinner, a good dance band, dinner suits for the guys, the full bit. I knew exactly the dress I wanted to make for myself, and how much the material would cost, a lot. I started talking to Mum about it months ahead of time and although she liked the drawings I'd done she thought it was too sophisticated for me. And when she found out what it would cost said quite flatly 'no', and no matter what tactics I used, she just wouldn't budge. So I decided to wait until an evening when she was out visiting some friends and then have a go at Dad. I had a study desk in my room that Dad had set up for me a couple of years earlier and which, to his annoyance I hardly ever used, preferring to work in the living room so I could keep an eye on TV and feel part of the family. But that evening I set everything up, all my drawings and sketches and, leaving the door open, made it look as though I was hard at it. Before I'd started work I'd had a shower and put just a light robe on over bra and panties and when he finally came by an hour or so later to see what I was doing, as I knew he would eventually, and looked down over my shoulder, the first thing he probably saw was an eyeful of the cleavage between my then fully developed breasts. I got him talking about the project I was working on but as there wasn't another chair for him to sit on he had to remain standing beside me and I got the distinct feeling that he spent as much time looking down the front of me as he did looking down at my designs. As I shifted papers, working my way towards the final design for the dress I wanted to make, the robe worked its way more open, gradually exposing more and more of me. Although when I started he had made various comments about different designs, the longer he stood there the quieter he got, and when I looked up from time to time I saw that his face was taking on a strangely tense look. Then when I then glanced sideways, at his crotch, I felt sure I could see a tell-tale bulge growing there and I recognised that I wasn't just getting to him, I was turning him on. Realising that gave me a funny feeling too but I pressed on with what I was showing him, taking my time in getting to the final design. And when I did I got up, held it up beside me in one hand while using the other to show how the material would be cut to fit me, and in doing that of course the silly robe fell open even wider, so he got to see even more of me. I tried to ignore the effect that had on him, the way his eyes stared, his hands clenched and his tongue nervously moistened his lips, just talked on about the importance of using exactly the right material, the ridiculously expensive price and that I'd never be able to justify the cost of it. When I'd finished my pitch I re-tightened my robe, sat down, smiled up at him and said I'd have to get on with the rest of my work. He seemed reluctant to go and I noticed that as he walked out, he left my door wide open behind him. For the next twenty minutes or so he seemed to just prowl around the place, passing my door from time to time and glancing in at me. Then I heard him go into their bed-room and after a couple of minutes my curiosity got the better of me, I got up, went quietly down the corridor and peeked round the half-open door. He was standing half-turned away from me, looking down at something on the dressing table. But at that moment I wasn"t the slightest bit concerned with what he was looking at, all I could think of was his cock, his big, fully erect cock. He'd undone his trousers, got it out, and was slowly masturbating himself. I watched for a few seconds, unable to drag my eyes away from it. It was incredible, for one thing it looked far bigger than I thought it would be, certainly bigger than any of those on the boys I'd known up to then. But not only bigger, it somehow looked, I don't know how to explain it properly, more mature, more 'used'. It's difficult to put into words, but it looked terrific and very, very exciting. But the longer I stared at it and what he was doing to himself the more I wanted to see it in close-up, and not only see it, but touch and fondle it. I don't know if I actually made a sound, maybe he just sensed me watching him, but suddenly he turned and our eyes met. There was an almost haunted look in his, as though he was in some sort of terrible pain. I wanted more than anything else to relieve that pain, and found myself moving towards him. As I got up close and stood in front of him, I looked down, his hands had of course dropped to hang loosely at his sides and his cock stuck straight out, it"s head a dark glossy red and the rest straining and twitching. Glancing sideways I finally saw what he had been looking at on the dressing table when he started to masturbate. It was a photograph of me, one of several taken a couple of months earlier at a friend's pool. That particular picture had been taken from the pool-side as I climbed up out of the water, the camera pointing down at me, straight down between my breasts. From that angle they looked even bigger than they actually were but I realised that the view was similar to what he must have had while he was standing beside me just a little earlier. Knowing that he had got so aroused by just the sight of me gave me a funny, shivery feeling, and as I looked back down at his enormous cock and lifted one hand towards it, I think I said something like. 'Is this my fault? Did I do this to you? I"m sorry, let me help you, please.' Then I looked up for a moment and saw that his eyes were screwed shut, and he was shaking his head slowly from side to side. I could tell he was being torn apart, part of him desperately wanted release, and for that he"d need my touch, but another knew his daughter shouldn't do that. Something powerful inside me drove me on and I lifted one hand, slipping my finger-tips very lightly along its length, feeling its heat, its knotted hardness, shivering slightly at the sensations the feel of it sent running through me. Then, without another word, I dropped to my knees in front of him. First I undid his belt then unzipped and slid his trousers and pants down so I could see and reach all of him. A heady, musky odour filled my nostrils, the smell of his arousal was itself exciting and although the size and engorged state of his rock-hard, quivering cock was the centre of my attention I couldn"t help also noticing how tightly swollen his balls were. Again I used just the tips of my fingers, running them lightly up and down the shaft, over and around the polished head, then cupped his balls with my other hand and began to stroke and gently fondle them. Using all the experience I had gained with the boys I had already done it to, I curled my fingers around the shaft just behind the head then began to slowly slide them backwards and forwards, keeping a light but firm grip of his balls, watching the way the head bulged and darkened in colour as what I was doing steadily increased the pressure that was building inside him. After a minute or two I noticed a small, clear drop of pre-cum appear in the eye and leaning slightly forward, used the tip of my tongue to lick it off. Up to then, although I could tell from its increasing tension that his body was responding to what I was doing for him, I guessed from the fact that he hadn"t made a sound or given me some other indication of his enjoyment, that inside he was still desperately trying to control himself. But that first little lick must have really got to him, overwhelming whatever little resistance was left, because as his cock jerked higher he gave a deep moan of pleasure and thrust his hips forward, as though finally urging me to continue. Repeating that little lick, then teasing the opening and licking off the other drops that appeared, I soon progressed to lapping my tongue over and around the entire head. All that time I was also keeping both hands busy, one curled around the shaft, stroking up and down its length, the other rolling and lightly squeezing his balls. So it wasn"t long before I heard his groans getting progressively stronger and felt the muscles in his thighs and stomach tightening. Recognising those signals I eased myself a little closer then, moistening my lips before slipping my tongue underneath it, I opened my mouth and slid my lips down over the silky surface of his massively bulging cock-head. The thrills that triggered finally made him thrust forward and, opening my mouth even wider, I took it all in. But though I longed to feel him actually fucking my mouth and I could sense that was exactly what he wanted to do too, something still held him back and although his body continued to jerk I could tell that it would be up to me to actually get him off. Of course I was very happy to do just that and in a way was really sorry that it only took another minute or two. The combination of my hands fondling, squeezing and firmly stroking, and my mouth bobbing and eagerly sucking, quickly drove the pressure inside him up to and then above boiling point. Then, as his body arched, he clasped his hands behind himself and with a series of noisy grunts, he exploded. I heard myself gurgling happily as my hands and mouth urged him on, triggering one blast after another, each one shooting a gout of thick, creamy jism deep into the back of my frantically swallowing throat. I remember thinking, 'I'm doing what up until now only Mum has done for him, I'm making him as happy as she can.' When he was finally finished I got some tissues and wiped him dry, then sat on the edge of the bed watching as he dressed himself again, wondering what would happen now. He took a long time about it, re-gaining his breath, his eyes avoiding mine as he obviously wrestled with his conflicting feelings about what we had done. After what seemed an absolute age he looked at me, then came and sat down beside me and, taking hold of my still slightly sticky hand, said. 'You know that what we've done is very wrong don't you.' I probably had a pretty sheepish look as I nodded in response. 'It must never happen again, and nobody must know about it, you understand that don't you.' Again I just nodded. 'We must never, ever even think of doing anything like that again must we.' But with that I found my voice and replied. 'Why not? We're not hurting anyone, I want to make you just as happy as Mum does, I love you too you know.' He just hadn't anticipated that kind of reply, he looked at me incredulously, just too stunned for words, and as I continued explaining my feelings his eyes stared deep into mine, as though hoping to find an answer there. 'I'm not a little kid any more." I said. "I know what I'm doing, and won't do anything silly when Mum's around. You know you can trust me. I just want to love you the same way she does, have you love me the way you do her. I think it's silly to say that's wrong. Anyway.' I added finally. 'I'm not your real daughter, you know, flesh and blood, so it's not the same thing, incest I mean. In a way I'm just a young woman who happens to live in the same house with you.' The conversation didn't get any further than that because just then we both heard the sounds of Mum coming home and I made a frantic scramble back to my room, leaving him to face her as normally as he could manage. I closed the door behind me, sat down at my desk and tried to look as though I was working, I hadn't resolved the question of the material for the dress, but I had stirred up a host of feelings inside myself. And later, after Mum had looked in to see how I was progressing, the memory of the sight, smell and feel of Luke"s cock, as it pumped his jism into my mouth, aroused me so much that I had to relieve it by masturbating, and couldn"t believe the intensity of the climax that followed." Chapter 20 Getting Closer to Dad "Would you like some more coffee Roger?" Her question startled me, I had been lost in thought, very disturbing thought. But I pulled myself together sufficiently to say that I'd love some and that gave me a minute or two to try and settle myself, before she carried on her story. It wasn't just what she was telling me that was getting me stirred up, although the thought of having her do what she had just described was arousing enough anyway. It was the way she was telling it. As she talked I could see from the look on her face that it was as though she was re-living the experiences, that she was feeling at least some of the excitement the original event had given her. She returned with fresh coffee, settled back down again and, as though there had been no interruption, continued. "Nothing happened for the next few days, other than the feeling that Dad was staring at me in a way I had never experienced before. Whenever we were all together, talking or eating, his eyes rarely met mine, instead they watched my mouth, my lips, and I guessed he was remembering the sight and feel of them slipping over his cock-head. At other times, usually when Mum wasn't in the same room, I felt he was stripping me with his eyes, wanting to see more of what he had so far only had glimpses of. And I admit that I found myself being excited by both the thought of him doing that, and of his reactions to the thrills I had already given him. But although there were times when the two of us were briefly alone in the house together, it was more than a week before there was another opportunity for anything to happen, when again Mum went out visiting friends, and we both knew she would be gone for a couple of hours at least. When Mum left, I was sprawled out on the floor watching TV in the shorts and T-shirt I had been in all day, Dad was in the kitchen, fixing a snack before his favourite programme started. Even though he was seeing nothing different to what he had been able to all day, the moment he came into the room and looked down at me, I saw the same intense look in his eyes that I had seen from time to time during recent days, as though he was trying hard to see beneath my clothes, see me stripped, naked. Neither of us said a word, not really knowing what was going on in his head I didn't know if he wanted me to start something or if he was hoping, praying I wouldn't. I watched the TV, hearing him eating, somehow knowing his eyes were flicking back and forth between the screen and my body. And although I was watching I was seeing nothing, my head was too full of the images from that previous time, feeling the warm tingling between my legs starting to spread slowly through the rest of my body as they became sharper and more vivid. By about three quarters of the way through the programme I decided I was going to have to do something, so I got up and, as I left him to see the ending, simply said. 'I'm going to have a shower and get ready for bed.' As he looked up and his eyes briefly met mine I saw in them the same haunted look I had seen when I found him masturbating himself in the bed-room, a look I wanted to help him lose, and knew I could only do that by relieving him of the underlying pain itself. I went into my bed-room and stripped, stopping to look at myself in the mirror, trying to see me the way I hoped he soon would. Obviously my breasts were what he really wanted to see, and maybe handle, even kiss. There were times when I thought they were too big, too obvious, but although they were big there wasn't a trace of flabbiness about them and I felt sure when he saw them he wouldn't be disappointed. And the rest of me was O.K. too, my tummy flat, by hips and bottom nicely curved, and although my legs weren't as long as Mum's they were still pretty good. I left my robe behind in the bed-room, padded down the hall to the bath-room and, leaving the door open, turned on the shower and stepped in. The sting of the water on my skin relieved some of the itch that had been growing inside me and I stood under it for some time, bending and turning so it reached and wetted every part of me before I began to thoroughly lather myself. Then as I replaced the soap in the holder I turned, and saw him standing in the door-way, his eyes wide, staring at me through the steam. Even from that distance I could see the intensity of the look in his eyes, but knew that it was again going to be up to me to make him take the first step. 'Come on in too, you can scrub my back for me.' I said, using one, still soapy hand to push open the screen and beckon him. To my delighted surprise he did, and I watched as he slowly, almost reluctantly began to get undressed too. For his age he still had a good body and when we had been at friends' pools or the beach together I had often compared his with those of my other friends' fathers. Unlike many of them his muscles were still well defined, he had no trace of a pot-belly, and his legs were as good as those of a much younger man. But seeing him undressing there in the bath-room was quite different to seeing him beside a pool. Suddenly his body wasn't just another adult male's to be looked at in an almost clinical way, and even before he'd stripped off his underpants I found myself becoming sexually aroused, felt that tingling feeling quickly growing and spreading through my body. When he was down to nothing but his briefs I saw the evidence of what had been going through his mind, the bulge his cock made was unmistakable. But when he slipped them down and stepped out of them I saw that although long and fat he wasn't yet fully aroused. He looked across at me and his eyes met mine, they were filled with such a sadly pleading look that for a moment I was tempted to stop what I had started. But what was happening inside my head and body were stronger than that momentary thought and again I encouraged him to join me, and as he stepped under the spray it was though the water washed away a layer of guilt. His hands rose to my breasts, cupping them, gently squeezing them, slipping his thumbs up across their tender and quickly stiffening nipples. Having got him to take the first and then the second step I could tell there would be no way of stopping him, not that I wanted to, what his hands and fingers were doing for me were magic. His caresses made what I'd had from the boys I'd known until then seem like nothing more than inept gropes. He turned me, I felt his swiftly rising cock against the back of my legs, then he held me against himself and his hands began to roam all over me. He played with my breasts for an age and his caresses soon had them swollen, their tips hard and spiky, then, keeping them that way with one hand, he slid the other down across my stomach. Then, shifting himself so he could reach further round me, he slipped his fingers down through the wet mat of hair. As he moved I'd felt his by then fully erect cock spring up in the space between us and when he pulled me backwards again so he could get his hand down between my legs, the rigid length of it slipped into the crack between my buttocks and the feel of its hardness pressing against me added to the thrills his fingers were producing as they teased the already swollen outer lips of my pussy. That combination, one hand rolling and nipping my nipples, his cock jammed hard up against my arse, his skilful fingers teasing my pussy soon had me on the verge of climaxing, and when he then slid his lower hand upwards and I felt the flat part of two of his fingers slipping over the ridge of my clitoris there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it from welling up from deep inside me. As he heard me cry out in sheer delight he pulled me even harder back against himself and his fingers flashing lightly up and down over the source of that feeling, urging me on to an absolutely stupendous orgasm that rolled through me. Each wave taking me higher than the last, until finally my body felt like nothing more than a shuddering mass of electrified jelly. Those Days of...Ch. 16-20 When he felt the force of last wave lessening, as the strength of his other arm stopped me from simply slipping down on to the tiles he slid his hand down between my shaking legs, covering and gently holding my still spasming pussy. We stayed like that for some time but soon the drenching spray and the feel of his rearing cock brought me back from my reverie and I wriggled my way out of his arms. As I turned I looked down and saw the state it was in. It was rearing almost vertically, its grossly swollen head a deep purple colour, the veins in the shaft beneath it standing out like small tree roots, and as it pointed up at me I saw it quivering, straining for release from the massive pressure that had grown inside him. I recognised that this wasn't the time for long, slow caresses, his need was too urgent, and so, slipping behind him and squashing myself hard up against his back, I reached around in front of him and closed my hand tightly round the shaft. I couldn't believe just how hard his cock had got, it felt more like an iron bar than a part of his body and the thought flashed through my head as to just what it would feel like to have something as hard and massive as that thrusting in and out of my pussy. As he felt my hand grip him he groaned and then as I began to firmly pump him his body began to thrust in time with my rhythm and those sounds grew louder, more desperate. Then, all too quickly I felt it coming, his body went rigid as he held his breath. My fingers felt a strong pulse expanding the already massive shaft and then, peering around him, as his body thrust convulsively I saw the creamy jet shoot out and splatter against the wall of the shower-stall. I pumped harder, producing a second, a third and then a fourth blast, each almost as powerful as the first, then, as I felt the force lessening I slowed my strokes, gripping it even harder, using my fingers to squeeze the last, weaker spurts out of him. After he had recovered I washed him, loving the feel of his body beneath my hands, watching the way the soap lathered in the hair on his chest, and above his then slowly, almost reluctantly wilting cock. I took my time about washing both it and his balls and when I was finally satisfied every part of him was squeaky clean I turned off the water, got out and reached for a towel to dry him too. But he took it from me, hung it over his shoulders and spoke for the first time. 'Let me watch you dry yourself first, please.' I smiled and nodded, in a way happy that he still hadn't had enough of looking at me, and I suppose because of that I made a bit of a production of drying myself, taking far more time than I usually would, bending and turning so that he had a chance to get a really good look at every part of me. When I was finally done, he briskly towelled himself then stepped out of the stall, came towards me and, holding me gently by the shoulders, bent and kissed me lightly, full on the lips.' For some reason she paused, again giving me a moment or two to collect myself. The pictures her words had painted had brought on a deep, heavy ache inside me and produced the start of yet another erection. So I tried to clear away the thoughts of having her do to me what she had done to Luke by concentrating hard as she quietly began to speak again. 'It was the first time he had ever done that. Even as a little girl I could never get him to kiss me the way he did Mum, not even a little one. Whenever I'd tried he'd twist his head aside, so my kiss landed on his cheek, and whenever he kissed me it was my cheek, or my forehead, never, ever on the lips. So, although it was more a brief touch than a proper kiss, I was thrilled to finally feel the warm softness of his lips on mine, and it was enough to re-start the delicious tingling sensations in various parts of my body. He continued to hold me and as he looked down deep into my eyes he said. 'You are simply the most beautiful thing I've ever, ever seen Barbara. As I said last time, I've been weak and what we've done is wrong, we must never, ever talk about it. But seeing you every day, remembering what you did, imagining what you really look like, it's all been too much for me, I just couldn't stop myself tonight.' 'I didn't want you to, I wanted to please you, you must understand that. As I said, I want to make you as happy as Mum does, I love you just as much as she does, maybe even a bit more. Don't you understand that?' I answered. 'I've tried to explain it that way to myself, it still doesn't make it right, neither under law nor as far as your mother is concerned.' He replied. 'But nobody else needs to know, not even Mum.' I pleaded. 'It can just be something between us, something special that only you and I have. We just want to show our love for each other, to please each other, what's wrong with that?' 'You know it's wrong Barbara, it just is that's all.' he said, letting go of me, turning away and making a deep sigh. 'But, I'm no saint and if this is really what you want, I don't know if I can resist you, just be careful, be very, very careful darling.' I felt my heart pounding as I heard him say that. He wasn't going to stop me, we'd have other times together, and maybe, just maybe, one day we would actually make love together. Having seen the size and power of his rampant cock, just the thought of even the possibility of that sent shivers up and down my spine and strengthened the tingling sensations I'd been feeling since his brief kiss. We went to our rooms to dress and as I didn't know just when Mum would return I took no chances and rather than appearing for him in one of my flimsy, see-through nighties, as I longed to do, I put on a pair of chaste, sloppy pyjamas. When I joined him in the lounge-room I saw that he had put back on the shirt and jeans he had been wearing before and the momentary look of disappointment in his eyes when he saw what I had on. 'It was you who said we had to be careful, remember.' I said with a cheeky smile as I sat in my usual chair and was thrilled to see him give me a shy grin and to say in reply. 'Fair enough. But that doesn't mean that when we are alone you have to sit so far away. Come over here, so I can at least touch you.' I guess I must have looked as pleased as a little puppy does when you make a fuss of it and hurried across to sit on the floor at his feet, and when after a minute or two I felt his hand slip down over my shoulder and his fingers reach for my breast, I undid the top buttons of my pyjamas, so his hand could feel and fondle the soft warmth of it as we watched the TV together. The only concern I had was that when he and Mum went to bed she might be in the mood for making love and that, being an older man and not as vigorous as he must have been when he was younger, what I had done to him might have left him unable to respond. But she was even later than either of us had expected and it was obvious that she was very tired, so I guessed he would be expected to do no more than give her a quick kiss and a cuddle before she fell asleep. But later, as I lay in bed, I put that thought in the back of my mind, as being something else I'd need to consider, I'd need to pick the times we could please each other even more carefully, either giving him enough time to recover or being pretty sure that Mum wasn't in the mood to also make demands on his virility. That thought led to another, that perhaps I could, while pleasing Dad and I, sometimes also give Mum something she'd appreciate. If I got him worked-up, then left him dangling, when he and Mum were alone together she would get the benefit of the pressure I'd created in him. That would mean me missing out on the thrill of seeing him shoot-off of course, but maybe occasionally I could forgo that, for Mum's sake. After all I had to be fair, he was her husband and by rights she had first call on him. Of course that line of thinking inevitably led again to the thought that one day he might make love to me properly, actually fuck me, and that thought brought back the sight of his cock as I'd seen it in the shower. Almost monstrously huge, rock-hard, spitting thick wads of jism up against the wall. Which in turn led to trying to imagine just what it would feel like if it was doing that deep up inside my cunt, and which inevitably aroused me so much that I had to use my fingers on myself, to at least temporarily relieve the urgent need that resulted. I think even Mum must have noticed the change that came over me after that. Much of the bitching that had gone on between us stopped and I must have been much easier to live with, more co-operative, less argumentative. The feeling that I was in just a small way sharing him with her made it easier to cope with the day-to-day irritations that any family has. Though I admit that there were also times, when he was making a special fuss of her and even more so when I heard the muffled sounds of them making love together, that I became almost insanely jealous. Dad and I really had very few opportunities to be together, Mum's hen-parties, as she called them, weren't a regular thing, just something her friends did from time to time, and as he was of course at work during the day, even those times when I didn't have lectures at college weren't available to us. There was the odd occasion, sometimes on a Saturday morning, when Mum was still at the shops, when we would risk a quick get together and though we could always get each other off, I could tell that like myself he wanted more time than that, time to slowly enjoy the sensations we stimulated in each other. But I did use one of those Saturday morning's to try the experiment I had thought of, to get Dad really wound-up, then leave Mum to get the benefits. Knowing what she had gone to the shops for, I had a fair idea of how long she would be away and I filled in some of that time by wandering around in just my undies, making sure Dad got plenty of chances to get a look at what I had to offer, but managing to appear to be too busy to have time for one of our 'quickies'. When I thought I had stirred him up enough with my flashes of flesh I took off even the little I had on, slipped my robe on and joined him in the kitchen where he was starting to prepare lunch. I made sure that in the process of reaching up into the cupboard for some plates my robe slipped open, letting him get an eyeful of my bared breasts, which I had by then found never seemed to fail to stir him up, then stood close while he worked, giving his bum a squeeze and nibbling the lobe of his ear. He immediately got the message of course and he stopped what he was doing, reached under my robe and found that my bottom was as naked as my breasts. 'I thought you were too busy darling.' he whispered as he turned me to face him and his other hand began to busy itself with my breast. 'Never.' I answered truthfully, as what he was doing to me quickly triggered my own arousal. He had by then overcome his initial nervousness about kissing me and I eagerly responded as his lips pressed themselves to mine and I felt his tongue snake into my mouth, feeling the surge of his cock's response as I pressed myself hard up against him. Once I felt that signal I eased away a little, slipped one hand down between us and curled my fingers around the length I could feel rising inside his pants, squeezing it as encouragingly as his hands were my bottom and breast, soon bringing it up to an almost full erection. Just then, as I had hoped, we heard the car pulling up outside as Mum came back from her brief shopping trip. 'Damn!' he said, almost angrily as we broke apart and I scampered quickly back to my room to dress. The next half hour or so was amusing and interesting. Even though the time we'd had together had been brief, the combination of my semi-naked shows and what I had done to him in the kitchen had obviously got him pretty steamed up and, as he couldn't do anything but steal a few sly looks at me, Mum got the benefit of his need. Although he was normally an affectionate man, that morning Mum must have wondered what on earth had come over him. He patted her on the bottom, ruffled the hair on the back of head, slipped his arm around her waist while he nuzzled her neck, and if I hadn't been around I'm sure he would have taken her right there on the floor of the kitchen. And from the way she began to respond to his attention I think she would have liked that, a lot. Once I was sure she was responding I took myself off, saying I had to pick up some study notes from a friend but that I'd be back in about an hour, figuring that in the state Dad was that was more than enough time for them. When I got back later I could tell from the slightly bemused look and the little smile of deep satisfaction on Mum's face that Dad must have, to use a crude but very descriptive expression I've heard boys use, fucked the arse off her. When Mum had her back turned to us, Dad managed to catch my eye and silently mouth the question. 'Did you do that on purpose?' I grinned and nodded and I could tell from the glint in his eye and the wicked smile he gave me that they had both thoroughly enjoyed the time I"d given them.