Wynter stood at the kitchen stove wearing fuzzy house shoes, a green gingham apron, and a frown. Her left hand grasped the long blonde ponytail hanging over her shoulder, and her right held a large cooking spoon. She had left her pajama top off after her shower because she'd discovered her father liked looking at her boobies, or her tits, as grownups called them. She'd removed the bottoms to teach herself how to masturbate. Her father was going to talk her through it, but he had fallen asleep. He woke up with a neck cramp just before she came--she thought that was a funny name for it and decided to ask her father why it was called that--and she didn't have time to put the bottoms back on. Because of that, she discovered he liked looking at her vaginal region--her pussy as grownups called it--and left them off just for him.
Her mind was racing everywhere, making it difficult for her to concentrate on making lunch. Daddy had done little more than define oral sex before he drifted back to sleep. Wynter knew he needed the rest to recover from his injuries, and she understood that men used up a whole lot of energy during sexual activity and needed to rest afterward. She worried that too much sexual activity would take away energy he needed to recover from his injuries. She had said that, and he had replied, "Honey, it gives me a reason to heal faster," before dozing off again. She was still thinking about that.
He'd looked so very uncomfortable at that forty-five degree angle, and that was what had given him a neck cramp and caused him to wake up when she was masturbating. Getting herself off, as grownups called it. All these new terms. After lunch, while he was sleeping, she'd have to start a notebook of them to help her use them properly now that she was no longer a child--she was eleven years old now, and had started mens...--menst...--having her periods.
She had forced herself to think only about what she was doing as she slowly adjusted the bed until it was flat, cranking it down a bit and then adjusting the suspension of his casts, over and over until it was done. Nurse Ellen Carter would be so very pleased with her for not waking him up once in the process. Both Daddy and Nurse Carter had told her she was a natural at being a nurse, and she could hardly wait until she could go to nursing school. Nurse Carter had even said she'd make a fine doctor, too. Wynter got warm tingles throughout her whole entire body whenever they complimented her on her nursing skills
It was while she was fixing lunch that she'd realized that Nurse Carter would return tomorrow afternoon, if the plows got the road clear of the snow from the avalanche. With Nurse Carter back, Wynter would no longer be able to relieve her father's distress when his semen, his cum, built up too much pressure in the damaged--what were they called? The tubes where he'd been injured when she was just a baby--vast difference? That couldn't be right, could it? She'd have to ask him to spell the right name for her so she could put it in the notebook. She understood now that she couldn't tell Nurse Carter that she had given Daddy handjobs. And Mother would be back before Nurse Carter left, and she'd be the one to relieve Daddy's aching testicles, his nuts, after that.
Drat!
Eight seconds later the tidal wave of panic struck. Nurse Carter had removed his catheter because he was having too many erections, or hardons, and the catheter was hurting. She'd been his nurse before. She knew about the damaged tubes between his nuts and his dick and how it got too painful for him after four or five days with no relief. If he didn't complain about the pressure, she'd wonder why. If he did, and she gave him a handjob for relief, she'd see that he didn't have enough cum built up to cause pain. When he came an hour ago, it was just a trickle.
If Wynter did oral sex with her father, he'd probably shoot his wad again after she came, and he'd have even less cum when Nurse Carter returned. Perhaps she shouldn't do any oral sex because of that. Besides, it didn't sound very good when he described it. But he'd said, "Honey, it's wonderful, and I really love doing it. You will too because it feels so very nice."
Maybe, she thought. It sure didn't sound very appetizing.
But he really did want to touch her pussy, and oral sex was the only way he could because his hands were in those casts. Daddy loved her so much that he wanted to make her cum because she'd made him cum because she loved him. She wondered how that sentence would look diagrammed, and then her thoughts raced to when she was cleaning him up afterward. He'd fallen asleep, and just like a grownup nurse, she'd cleaned up her patient without awakening him, except at the last second she'd put a gentle kiss of love on his dick. She doubted nurses did that to ordinary patients.
Thinking about that kiss was what had triggered her first orgasm.
And what triggered that sharp feeling of horniness that had suddenly returned to her vaginal region? No, to her pussy, she corrected herself. Well, she certainly knew what to do about that now! Her fingers were reaching under the apron that protected her slender nude body from cooking spatters, just brushing against the thin carpet of cornsilk blonde hair on her pussy when she realized what she was doing.
She couldn't touch her pussy and then touch food! It was unsanitary!
But--Daddy wanted to put his tongue in there.
And he'd said that they'd both love it!
A yip from the door to the utility room announced that Dragon was finished with his doggie business and wanted back inside. She let the Labrador retriever in and leaned over to speak to him. She was rewarded with a tongue in the face.
She laughed and wished she could pet him, but it would be unsanitary to pet a dog and touch food. She went back to the stove, deep in thought.
If Daddy put his tongue there, would it help him with his next orgasm, his next cum, the way kissing his dick while he slept had helped her to have her first one? Dragon didn't mind using his tongue on himself to masturbate. Of course, Dragon liked to eat what Daddy called "rabbit raisins" in the garden, so maybe that wasn't a very good analogy. A better one instead might be....
"Oh, Yuck!"
She whirled to the sink and began scrubbing her face with dishwashing soap. The chicken soup almost boiled over before she was finished.
Wynter put the tray on the table and rolled it to the bed. She stood silently, looking at her sleeping father lying there with his arms and one leg suspended in casts and a sheet covering his athletic body. His ruggedly handsome face didn't have any of the scars that covered much of his arms and legs and body, but even if it did, she would still love him just as much. If she could have just one wish granted, it would be that he stopped having so many accidents that hurt himself.
The soup was too hot to eat, so she would just let him sleep a little longer because he needed his rest to heal. She might as well use the wait to incline the top of the bed again. At forty-five degrees she gently awakened him, rather than let his head suddenly roll and jerk him awake. A warm feeling raced through her naked body when his loving green eyes opened and looked directly into her large blue-green ones as he smiled. Her first orgasm felt really, really good, but it wasn't nearly as good as the feeling she got from seeing him smile at her.
"Patients need their rest to heal, but they also need their nutrition so that the body has the stuff it needs to heal better," she said, holding her long blonde ponytail to keep it out of his face as she leaned forward to give him two gentle daughter-type kisses, first on his nose and then on his lips.
"Quoting Nurse Carter?" he asked.
"No," she said, giggling. "Nurse King."
"Ah! Well, I trust whatever she says. She's my favorite nurse, you know."
Her head dropped and her eyes fastened onto his left arm cast, but she whispered, "Thank you." She felt the heat of her blush. She was angry with herself for suddenly acting like a child again, but she didn't know what to do when he complimented her, even though she loved hearing it. She knew he meant it, and that made it even more difficult. If he were just playing and teasing, it wouldn't bother her and she'd tease back. But he meant it. Why hadn't Mother told her what to do? Because Mother thought she was still a child? She could wait until Mother returned, but that would be another two weeks. Well, she would just ask Nurse Carter tomorrow. Nurse Carter would understand if she were asked in just the right way.
"Chicken?"
Her head jerked up and she frowned at him. "What?"
"Chicken?" He nodded toward the table. "The soup? It smells like chicken."
Now she was mad at herself for thinking her father, who loved her with all his heart, had called her a name. "Oh." She turned and pointed at each item as she said, "Home made chicken with vegetables soup and a chicken salad sandwich. Carrot sticks. Apple juice and milk."
"No hospital food?" he asked with sad, puppy dog eyes and a downturned mouth.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said in her most serious expression. "With all the snow I just couldn't find any road kill."
Her father sighed heavily. "And I was hoping for some diesel-flavored chipmunk."
They broke up in laughter. Wynter grabbed her pony tail and leaned forward to kiss him again. She saw his eyes look at her tits and slowed to give him a longer view of them. When they kissed, she felt his tongue brush across her lips, sort of like it had first brushed her nipples when he'd sucked on her tits earlier that morning.
Now what? She didn't want to pull back. That would be childish. Should she lick her father's lips in return? The thought made the horny feeling in her split--in her pussy, she corrected herself, wondering why she couldn't remember to use all these new terms the way a grownup would--tingle. The thought wasn't objectionable. But was it what he expected? She could ask, but then she'd have to stop kissing him to do so. That wouldn't be fair to him because of his needs. Would it? Or would it be less fair to keep kissing him in a way that wasn't what he expected or needed?
Being a grownup, Wynter suddenly realized, was a lot more work than it had seemed to her when she was just a child.
She gently pushed her tongue tip out and brushed it against her father's lips. She was about to pull it back in when his rushed out and rubbed across hers. Drat! She had been too slow and his tongue had touched hers instead of her lips like he meant to do. She pulled it back into her mouth to give her father free access to her lips.
His tongue followed hers into her mouth! Yuck! What had she done wrong that had caused her father's tongue to accidentally enter her mouth?
Wait a minute! He didn't pull it back out. Instead he was rubbing her tongue with his. It couldn't be an accident. He had to know the difference between her tongue and her lips. He was doing it on purpose! And it wasn't really all that unpleasant. In fact, it wasn't unpleasant at all. And the horny feeling in her pussy was getting stronger!
And then it was gone, and she felt his head draw back as far as the pillow and mattress would let him. It was over.
"I think I took you by surprise," he said, looking deep into her blue-green eyes with a worried face. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew about French kissing by the way you responded."
Drat! She had disappointed her father because she was ignorant of stuff she should have known. She felt puddles growing along her lower eyelids. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Mother didn't tell me about that kind of kissing, and I didn't know what to do. Susie Middleton mentioned it once, but she said you just licked lips, and she didn't know if both people did it or just one. I just guessed, and I guess I guessed wrong."
"Oh, no, honey. Not at all! Kissing is like sex in that there's not really a wrong way to do it. Well, unless you bite hard! Part of the fun of both kissing and sex is learning what each one likes best and sharing. And I'll tell you a little secret about us guys if you want me to."
She looked deep into his eyes to see if he was being serious. He was! And he wanted to share a secret with her? Then he really, truly must not be upset. She nodded, afraid her voice would break if she spoke.
"A lot of guys look at it as being a badge of honor to be the first one to do stuff with a girl. Like being the first to kiss her or to French kiss her. I'm one of them. I know that no matter how old you get and how many guys you kiss, none of them can ever be the first one to know the thrill of feeling your sweet little tongue against theirs. Only I have that honor, and that makes me feel wonderful."
With her free hand she wiped her eyes and got another warm and tingly feeling all over from the way he was looking at her. It was a look that shouted how much he loved her. It was a look that wrapped around her and bear-hugged her the way his arms couldn't.
"Raise the bed the rest of the way and let's eat," he said. " I'll answer your questions. I know you have plenty."
Did she ever.
By the time they'd finished lunch it was mid-afternoon. She knew more about kissing now, and was eager to do her lessons in "the laboratory exercise," as her father always called practicing new stuff. He had told her that it was his problem to explain to Nurse Carter why he was no longer feeling pain from "the discomfort of semen buildup." He didn't say how he'd do it, but he said it was taken care of and for her not to worry.
She wheeled the table aside and sat on the side of the bed, her body turned to where he could look at her tits and her pussy because that made him happy. Yes, he really did want to do oral sex with her, but not if the idea made her uncomfortable or upset. He would only eat her pussy if she really wanted it, not if she was agreeing because she thought it was what he wanted.
He didn't see any way they could continue with sexual activities once Nurse Carter returned. And especially after Mother returned from Europe. That meant this was her only chance to learn from him.
"But, Daddy, you need your rest to recover. If you use up all your energy for me, it will take you longer to heal. I'm your nurse! I can't make you take longer to heal just for me."
She couldn't identify the look he gave her. "Wynter," he said in a gentle voice, "you're not making this easy."
She felt the heat of the blush spreading up her face. She was trying to be a good nurse and she had childishly done something wrong. But what? Her eyes dropped to stare at his arm cast and she couldn't make them return to his eyes. "I'm sorry. Daddy, I'm just trying to be a good nurse for you. I'm not doing a good job of explaining it. Nurse Carter will be back tomorrow. Maybe she can explain it to you better." She felt her voice crack with the last sentence.
"Honey, I'm the one who's not doing a good job of explaining. I understand what you are saying, but you don't understand me. You don't understand what rules are all about. What I'm trying to say is that sometimes it's okay to go against the rules."
She frowned, thinking about that.
"Honey, I really would love it if you'd look me in the eye right now."
Drat. She lifted her eyes to his. When she made eye contact, he broke out in a big smile. "Thanks. I just wanted to feel like you loved me."
"Daddy, I do love you! That's why...."
"Yes, honey, I know it in my head." He gave her his big warm smile that always made her feel better. "But when you look at me instead of my cast or the bed rail or the floor or the table, I can also feel it in...." He winced suddenly, and Wynter flew into mother hen mode.
"Daddy? Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he said in a gasp. "Remind me not to try to tap my heart while I'm in these casts. What I'm trying to say--hmmm. Okay, let's try it this way. The first couple of nights after you found Dragon and he was almost dead, you were up almost all night taking care of him, right?"
"Uh huh." She realized how childish that sounded and grew angry with herself again. Why couldn't she sound like a grownup?
"You were a growing girl and needed your rest to grow properly, but you spent most of two nights awake taking care of Dragon's needs." By the way he repeated it she realized he was "reinforcing the lesson" the way her teachers would do in nursing school, but she didn't know what the lesson was. "By taking care of Dragon's needs, you spent the energy you needed to grow."
"Yes, but I made up for it after he started getting better."
"Aha!" he said, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. "You made up for it later."
More "reinforcing the lesson." He said nothing else. She thought about it. "You're saying that you can make up for it later, too?"
He shrugged as best he could. "What else am I going to do when they plow the road and Ellen makes it back here? Wear myself out by going dancing with her?"
She laughed then, and that made him laugh. Wynter liked to hear her father's rich, hearty laugh. It made her feel that the world was a happy place.
"But even if I couldn't make up for it later," he continued, "I wouldn't care. If it took me another day, or even two or three days more, I wouldn't care because I was doing something for you. Honey, you're going to learn that as a grownup, you always find yourself having to make choices. Sometimes there's no best choice. Heck, sometimes there's not even a good choice. That's called the 'lesser of two evils' decision. But that's not what this one is for me."
She stared into his deep eyes, thinking about that.
"When you're a parent, just like when you were caring for Dragon, you'll sometimes choose to do not what is best for you at the moment. It might not even be what's best for your child at that moment, but what's best in the long run. Do you understand?"
She scrunched her eyebrows in thought for a moment. "Like that time I was really sick and had a high temperature? I was freezing and wanted Mother to cover me up, but she put me in the bathtub and poured water on me to get my fever down?"
Her father made an embarrassed face. "Well, that's a much better example that mine about you wanting candy before suppertime. I sure am lucky you're the brains in the family."
She laughed again and squeezed his leg to her hip in a hug. "You said Dragon was the brains in the family!"
"Well, that was last summer. You got smarter since then." He looked at his casts. "Apparently I didn't."
"Daddy! It wasn't your fault that drunk hit you."
"No, but if I hadn't been trying to change the CD, I might have been able to duck, or at least keep from being rolled down the hillside. You remember this when you start driving."
"I will, Daddy," she said in the most solemn, grownup manner she could use. She slid off the bed and moved to where his arm cast wouldn't be in the way when she kissed him.
She suddenly realized that his eyes hadn't moved to her tits or her pussy once. He'd kept them on hers the whole time, despite how much he said he loved looking at them! Did he not like it any more? Or did he keep his eyes on hers because that was what was best in the long run? It had to be the latter. She got that warm, tingly feeling all over again when she realized that he was showing her how much he loved her with his actions. The moment their lips met, her tongue rushed forward. She was going to show him that she loved him just as much as he loved her. And that was a lot!
When Wynter returned with the empty urinal, he was already asleep again. She was glad that she'd put the bed down first, rather than leaving him sitting upright while she cleaned the container. She hadn't even masturbated him after he was finished urinating. Or peeing, as the grownups said among themselves. She put the urinal in its storage location and noted the time and volume on his records for Nurse Carter.
She had her own record keeping to perform now. She'd fetch a new hand-sized notebook and write down all those new grownup terms she'd learned. Just as soon as she finished with her patient. She rechecked the suspended casts. If her father had moved, they might be pulling his shoulders uncomfortably. She guessed "uncomfortably" was a relative term since they couldn't be comfortable under any circumstances. He'd wanted a pain pill with his last meds. He had been taking i-bu-pro-fin--Wynter wondered why she always had trouble saying that word. He had been saving the remaining few pain pills in case he needed some and Nurse Carter was still trapped in town by the avalanche. Nurse Carter was trapped there because the pharmacist had mis-read Doctor Taylor's yucky handwriting and had filled his pain prescription with a laxative, and she had rushed to town in the blizzard to get more pain pills.
When Wynter was satisfied, she held her ponytail out of the way as she leaned over to gently kiss him. She slid her tongue forward just enough to touch it to his lips, and he sighed gently. "I love you, Daddy," she whispered as she pulled back and looked down his body.
She saw the slight bulge in the sheet where his penis--his dick--was. She moved around the cast and stood beside his legs, gently lifting the sheet away to look at that ruddy three inches of his body that made her father feel so good when she jacked him off. She thought about that term and remembered her father using a car jack once. The hand movement was sort of the same, so she supposed that was where the term came from. She decided to put that observation in her "Sexual Words" notebook when she started it.
She again felt the impulse to kiss his dick and took her ponytail in her left hand. The tingly feeling sprang to life down there in her pussy, especially in her clitty, as she bent forward with her coral lips puckered. A wave of incredibly strong horniness washed over her when her lips touched his dick, just as had happened before.
A thought struck her as she was straightening. She bent forward and kissed his dick again, this time sliding her wet tongue between her lips to caress the top side of it during the kiss. The first wave of horniness was like a candle compared to the bonfire that exploded between her legs. She needed one hand to keep her ponytail from tickling her father and awakening him, and the other to support her weight as she leaned forward on rubbery knees, but she could achieve a little bit of relief with thigh masturbation. She squeezed her firm, slender thighs together against her aching clitty and twisted and humped her lower body. It didn't feel nearly as good as her fingers in her split--her pussy, she corrected herself again--but it helped give some relief.
His dick started to swell slightly and she stopped, lifting to look at his face to see if she was awakening him before his body said he'd had enough rest. He hadn't moved, except for his dick. She used her nose to point it up his stomach, where she could kiss the nerves on the bottom side, right where he'd told her it felt best when she rubbed him with her hand. When she did, it grew a little more, until it wasn't hard yet, but it wasn't soft anymore, either.
On impulse, probably because she was thinking about her father performing oral sex on her, she opened her mouth and let half the head slide in. The bonfire in her clitty became a forest fire. A moan exploded from her. She suddenly grew scared that she would awaken him too soon if she continued, though she really didn't want to stop yet.
But she was being childish in thinking about her needs instead of her patient's. She reluctantly removed her mouth and gave him a soft, gentle kiss on the nerve spot. She wondered if it had a medical name and if grownups had another name for it.
With his sheet back in place she again checked his casts and eased across the hall to her room to find an unused notebook. Dragon moved the five feet from one door to the other.
She sat in her chair at her desk, which she'd moved to the wall by the door. By leaning forward just a little she could see through the facing doors and observe her sleeping father. Her patient, she corrected herself. She was Daddy's nurse. The last time she'd masturbated him--given him a hand job--she'd done it for her father, but the first two times were for her patient. He was asleep now, and he was her patient again.
But he'd said that after he slept a little bit, he'd become her teacher and she'd be Daddy's student while he taught her about oral sex. She thought about having her father's dick in her mouth and the forest fire blazed to life. There was a lingering salty taste, probably from the tiny amount of urine, or pee, remaining on his dick or in the--the--that "u" word. Urethra. It sounded yucky to think about, but actually it wasn't bad.
She wondered if she'd taste salty to her father when he stuck his tongue in her pussy, even though she carefully wiped and blotted in the bathroom. And she scrubbed her split really, really good when she bathed, too. Well, there was just one way to find out.
She was surprised to discover that her fingers were already in her split, massaging the tiny hard stick of her clitoris. She'd even dragged some of her natural lubrication from her vaginal opening to her clitty while she was rubbing it. It was only the second time she had used her fingers to masturbate and already her body was acting without conscious thought on her part.
She'd better ask her father if that was okay when he woke up. She thought so, but there was so much about sex stuff that he hadn't told her. Grownups sure had to keep track of a lot of information.
She moved a finger to her vaginal opening--her cunny, she corrected herself. Or was it? She stared at the open notebook, its pages still unmarked except for the heading on the first page, "Sex Terminology." She liked the way that sounded grownup--much more so than "Sex Words." Was her cunny just her vaginal opening or all of the area inside her split? Where did her pussy quit and her cunny begin? She grabbed a throwaway notepad and scribbled her questions onto it so that she wouldn't forget to ask her father. That way she wouldn't have to make corrections in the notebook.
She was having trouble holding the pen while she wrote. Halfway through the first question she realized that her fingers were wet with her natural lubrication, and it was really slick. She chastised herself--another grownup-sounding word that she liked--for not paying more attention to what she was doing. A patient's life depended on his nurse paying strict attention to the smallest details.
She set the pen down and brought her fingertips to her nose. It didn't smell like urine, but it did smell like her split. It was a clean smell and not unpleasant. She hoped that her father wouldn't be disappointed or upset by it, though she had no idea what he expected. She worried that it was different from other women's and that he wouldn't like it, but she couldn't think of any way to find out except for her father to tell her. And then it would be too late.
She eased the tip of her tongue out and lightly touched the natural lubrication on her fingers. She pulled her tongue back in at the instant she knew it had touched the liquid. She really didn't taste anything. She tasted again, leaving her tongue in contact for almost half a second. Strange, but not unpleasant.
After a third try she coated her finger with more of the natural lubrication in her split and put the finger in her mouth. She couldn't define the flavor, but she decided that it didn't taste bad to her. Of course, she still didn't know how it would taste to her father when he ate her pussy. She resumed worrying about that as she used a tissue to wipe her fingers clean and picked up the pen. As she began writing, her left hand moved to her pussy and a finger worked its way into her split to stroke her hard little clitty.
She tried really, really hard to keep from making noise that would awaken her father when she came.
Richard King slowly awoke from a dream about looking at flowers while walking down a mountain trail with Wynter. He couldn't remember any more than that, but he remembered that he was enjoying the moment. Maybe he'd ask her if she wanted to go for a walk with him, down to the flat rock by the creek where she practiced her flute lessons. They'd pick wildflowers--flowers were growing now, weren't they?
He opened his eyes. Past the ropes suspending his right arm cast he saw the late spring blizzard was winding down to scattered flakes, with the sun trying to break through the clouds. The real world crept back into his mind with all the subtlety of a dynamite charge.
He rolled his head to the left, expecting to see Wynter sitting in the padded chair. When she wasn't there, he tried to lift his head high enough to see if she was in her sleeping bag near the foot of his bed. Movement beyond the door caught his eye. It was Dragon, getting up to turn a circle and lie down again in her doorway. The dog never left her side willingly, except to make his "doggie trips" outside. He always positioned himself in a doorway so that she couldn't leave a single-exit room without going past him, waking him if he were asleep. In a room with multiple exits, he would sometimes move from one to another at intervals.
Beyond Dragon he saw her desk's new location and her slender arms atop it. She was writing in one of her notebooks. Half of a shelf in her bookcase was filled with her notebooks of various sizes, each dedicated to a different topic ranging from recipes--she was already as good a cook as her mother--to medical conditions and treatments to wildlife to notes about piano and flute techniques. The latter two were in separate books, of course.
She even had at least one notebook with unlined pages where she made sketches, though she was unaware that her parents knew about that. Angie had found it open on her desk one day, but looked only at the open page. It showed a sketch of Dragon with a waterfall in the background. Angie had told him about it, saying that Wynter had shown talent in the sketch, but she didn't know if it was a recent sketch or one that was a few years old. Richard wished he could have seen it, but Wynter had returned it to the shelf by the time he'd returned home. By that time, Angie was exceptionally enraged with herself for having looked at the drawing, but she'd been so surprised that she hadn't had time to think until it was too late.
They treated Wynter's notebooks the same as they'd treat her diary if she kept one--personal. In effect, they were a diary, just one in multiple volumes. After twenty years Angie was still furious over the time her older sister, Diana, had picked the lock on her diary and read her most personal thoughts. She felt betrayed by her sister and swore that she'd never make Wynter feel the same way. Richard willingly agreed to treat Wynter's notebooks the same, though he couldn't shake the feeling that if he'd refused to do so, Angie would have shot him with the .38 Special she carried when hiking in the mountain forests. The only thing that had more importance to her than that betrayal was Wynter and himself.
Wynter's desk had sides that kept him from seeing her long slender legs, firmly muscled and covered in creamy soft, pale skin that had lost virtually all of last summer's tan. They were just beginning to show the signs of the sculpturing they would have when she finished the transition from girl to woman. And that transition was well underway with her two small, wide-spaced hemispheres that were so soft and yet so firm at the edges of a ribcage that stood out in ripples like a washboard. The narrow waist that was pinching in above the soft flare of her hips. The wonderful, sexy little butt that had started rounding and filling out, looking more woman-like than child-like now. And the prominent little mound with its thin covering of half-inch blonde hair that started above the point of her sweet little slit and was spreading in a thin line down the soft-looking pillows of her outer lips.
He silently laughed at himself for being an idiot. He had known she was growing titties--not only were the bulges visible under her tighter blouses, but there were training bras in the laundry that certainly didn't belong to Angie. But it had never occurred to him that she was also growing a mat of pussy hair on that cute little cunt. Cute was the operative word. Richard had never seen a prettier pecker playpen in his life. If he could sit down and draw up plans for his dream twat, he'd have Wynter's on paper when he was done.
The most exciting moment in his life to date had been sucking on those incredibly exciting little titties. And now, unless she'd changed her mind, which he doubted, he was going to have that little honeybox pressed down on his face. If he could keep her there until Ellen Carter was able to return from town, it wouldn't be long enough. If her could keep her there until Angie returned from Europe, it wouldn't be long enough. If he could keep her there until the universe ended, it wouldn't be long enough.
Movement against the sheet told him that the Beast was stirring, growing hard at the thought. He wondered if he could get her to suck his dick of her own accord--he desperately wanted her to suck him, but he wanted her to do so because she wanted to do it, not because he wanted her to do so. He emitted a hybrid sound between a sigh and a moan that she didn't hear. But Dragon did.
The dog's front half shot up from the floor, and he looked over his shoulder at Richard. That caused Wynter to lean forward and look into his room. Her mother hen face appeared in an instant and she sprang from her chair.
"Daddy, are you okay? What's wrong? Do you need something? Are you in pain? Do you need a pill or just some water?" The questions began before she was out of her room.
Richard tried desperately not to laugh. The hormones surging through her body made her even more sensitive than usual to what she perceived as criticism, and even on her best days, she was a perfectionist with a determination that could be almost infuriating.
"Honey, I'm fine. I woke up was all. I'm tired of sleeping. I guess Dragon heard me yawn or something."
She was at his left shoulder, looking down at him over the rise of those sweet, adorable young breasts with their creamy smooth texture and the small pink cones rising from them. He couldn't believe the strength of the desire that his own daughter's sprouting little sweater stuffers generated within him. He couldn't see her sweet little pussy now, but those adorable titties were so wonderful that he didn't care.
"Actually," he said, "I could use a sip of water. And a kiss, if you don't mind. I'm sure my breath is worse than Dragon's right now, so if you don't want to kiss me yet, you don't have to."
She put her fists on the gentle flare of her hips and stared down, trying to look stern. "Any woman who didn't want to kiss you would have to be crazy. And I'm not crazy! Dragon says so."
"Well, your mother's not crazy, either, and some mornings she doesn't want to kiss me."
"Maybe she just doesn't love you as much as I do."
Before Richard could reply she realized what she had said. Her standard look of panic swept over her face, and words rushed out in a jumble. "Oh, Daddy, I'm sorry I said that! I was just teasing. I didn't mean that Mother doesn't love you. I didn't mean to...."
"Honey, it's okay. Don't worry. I know exactly what you meant. Okay?" He wished his arms were free to encircle and comfort her. "Besides, maybe you do love me more than she does. There's no way anybody can prove whether you're right or wrong about that. But the important thing is that you both love me more than enough."
The panicked look faded to puzzlement. "More than enough?"
"Sure. You love me enough to make me feel warm and comfy and good all over, but you also love me more than that. I take the more part and store it in here," he said, looking down at his chest, "in my heart and that way I can still feel warm and comfy and good all over when I'm not around you. Like I have to do now while your mother is overseas, and like I have to do when I go to work."
He said nothing while she thought about it for a moment, and then was rewarded by slender arms flying around his neck and her sweet coral lips lowering to kiss him. "I have the nicest father in the whole wide world," she said. "And the nicest patient." It was a father/daughter kiss, with no tongue action, but Richard didn't mind in the least. It was the sweetest kiss imaginable.
She flew back as if shocked. "Oh, drat! I forgot about your water!"
"No, you didn't."
"Yes I did! You asked for water and I...."
"And you gave me what I needed the most first, and now you're about to give me my water. Just like a responsible adult would do. And what a good nurse would do."
She apparently realized he was serious because she blushed and her eyes dropped away from his. She poured half a glass of cold water from the insulated pitcher and put a bent straw in it. "I should raise the bed," she said.
"Wait about that until after we talk. I can drink it lying down."
After she put the empty glass back on the stand he had her sit beside him on the bed. His eyes swept over as much of her body as he could see from his prone position. "Honey, do you still want me to eat your pussy?"
He watched mother hen fight with personal desire behind her eyes. She slowly nodded. "But only if it's not...."
"Stop," he said, but with a gentle smile to ease the moment. He knew the routine that should keep her from feeling rebuked. "Recess is over. Class is now is session. I will call the roll of students. Wynter?"
"Here." Her head was down, but her eyes were on his and she was smiling. It had worked.
"Good. Everybody's present," he announced, while she giggled as usual. He tried to ignore the patterns her sweet nipples traced when her ribcage quivered. "Today's lesson is on relationships between women and men. I'll grant you that your mother is better qualified to teach this from your perspective, but I've been appointed substitute teacher for the day. Any objections?"
"None," she said with a bright smile and a shake of her head. "You're better qualified than Mother to teach me from your perspective."
"Well, you know that, and I know that, but let's keep that our secret and not tell your mother. Okay?"
"Okay," she said with another giggle. There were times that her mother insisted she knew more about men than her father did. Richard, of course, didn't even pretend to understand anything about women.
Richard again wished his arms were free. It was difficult lecturing without the ability to make gestures. His father said that the fault came from his mother's Italian blood. "For a relationship to work, the two people have to learn to be honest with each other and to respect the other's opinions or wishes. Let's pull a random hypothetical scenario out of thin air."
Wynter giggled again, knowing what was coming.
"Let's say you are a nurse with a patient you love, and he loves you. He offers to eat your pussy, but he's concerned that you might not want him to. Let's say he's afraid that if you say yes, it's because you're doing what you think he wants and not what you want. Let's say you want him to eat your pussy, but you're afraid that if he does so, it's not what's best for him. Or maybe you don't want him to, but you're afraid that if you say so, you will hurt his feelings. Or maybe you want him to, but you're afraid that he really doesn't want to. Or he really doesn't want to, but he's offering because he thinks that's what you want. Or--hmmmm."
He scrunched up his face and studied the ceiling as if in deep thought. "I think that's everything." He shrugged. "Well, it's close enough. Now, here's the key: you have to be totally honest with each other. You can't answer based upon what you think the other person wants, and you can't be upset with what the other person says. Am I going too fast for you?"
She shook her head, causing her blonde ponytail to lash about. "Those rattling marbles sounded like a negative response," he said, causing another round of giggles. Richard knew from vast experience that as long as he could keep Wynter laughing, she'd accept the message without feeling she was being chastised.
"A relationship, especially with someone you love, can't work if you aren't sure whether the other partner is fibbing about what he or she wants. The first time you're not sure, it causes a teensy little crack that you can't even see. Every time after that the crack gets a little wider until it's as big as the vacant space between your Aunt Diane's ears."
"Daddy!" She tried to look stern, but it was hard to do when she was doubled over in laughter.
"Now, here's the important part of the lesson." He waited for her to stop laughing and give him her full attention. It was her cue that this was where she should pay complete attention. "The crack in the relationship can grow only so wide until the relationship breaks apart. Understand?"
He waited. No matter how obvious one of his lessons was, Wynter always thought about what he had said to see if she could find either hidden meanings or flaws in his logic. After a moment she nodded. "You're saying you shouldn't offer unless it's what you really want, and I shouldn't accept unless it's what I really want, or else we'd risk our relationship."
"Well, it's not about us. It's purely a hypothetical scenario. It could be about you and your future husband. Or maybe between you and some boy you meet in college."
Wynter looked puzzled. "Why would some boy I met in college want to eat my pussy?"
Richard sighed. Angie was in for some interesting mother-daughter conversations when she returned. "Let's save that for another class because it takes us too far off this lesson's topic."
"Okay." It was obvious that she was mentally filing the question for later resurrection, undoubtedly before Angie returned. "What if one person wants to and the other doesn't and they say so?"
"Oh, good question! We've been paying attention." That sideways compliment caused Wynter to duck her head, but this time she kept her eyes on his and she smiled. Richard was amazed that this lesson was going so smoothly. His little girl really was growing up. The change in just the short interval between the time Ellen Carter called to say she'd been stranded in town and now bordered on incredible. Angie was going to accuse him of switching daughters while she was gone. Well, he thought, she should have realized that Wynter was growing up and done a better job of talking to and preparing her. A moment later he retracted that thought. He hadn't even realized it himself.
"The answer to that question is: 'It depends.'" He waited for the frown and then continued. "There's no one fixed answer, honey. It all depends on the situation. Sometimes one side will give in, and sometimes the other will. I guess the answer is based on needs, though usually the "No" will be the deciding answer."
"Then, uh...." Her face scrunched while she tried to think of a way to word her question.
"I'm your teacher and you're my student," he reminded her, knowing what the question was. "It's okay to ask anything."
"Then you and Mother...." She turned red and didn't finish the sentence. Her expression changed, and he realized she was now angry with herself for blushing.
"We love each other and we do what's best for both of us. Sometimes it's what she wants, sometimes it's what I want. Usually a 'no' answer is followed by, 'But tomorrow...,' or 'In a couple of hours...," or something like that."
Wynter sighed. "Why do grownups always have to make things so complicated?"
"To make our kids think we're smarter than they are," he said as she reached for the edge of the sheet and pulled it down, exposing the flaccid Beast.
"Okay," she said as she took it in her warm, soft hand and began gently pumping it back to life. "If you think it's not too early." When he questioned that she replied, "Well, I masturbated after you went to sleep, and I came again. I'd like for you to eat my pussy if you think I've rested long enough that I can cum again."
Something else Angie obviously hadn't told her. "Honey, women aren't like men. We have to rest between orgasms, but women can have one after another for as long as they can stand it."
Mother hen's face reappeared and turned to a look of horror. "That's not fair!"
For a while, Richard thought he would need a physician and a consulting engineer to work out a position that wasn't uncomfortable for either of them and that didn't put him in risk of greater injury if she should slip. The latter was mostly Wynter's concern because she was very aware of her father's accident-prone nature. Fortunately for Richard, his daughter had more sense than he did, and for that he was thankful. He was in far too big a hurry to taste that wonderful juvenile pussy and would have gone with the first position where she could rub her sweet little cunt on his face. He could just picture Ellen Carter showing up to find him with two dislocated shoulders and a bad case of pussy breath.
He was going to have enough trouble explaining--somehow--why he no longer suffered pain from seminal build-up.
They found the right combination of slight elevation of the head of the bed plus an additional pillow that allowed her to kneel on either side of his body with that firm, round little butt toward his face--he made a mental note to nibble on it to check its firmness--and her feet under his elevated arms and shoulders. From there she could push her little love box back to his face, as she was now doing. That position had an additional advantage: it put her face near the Beast, should she decide to return the favor. But later: he didn't want her to be distracted while she enjoyed her first cunnilingus session.
"Daddy, after I masturbated, my pussy was just a big mess from my natural lubrication," she said, "so I washed and dried it for you. If I didn't do it good enough, I can go wash it again."
Richard inhaled the intoxicating aroma of faint soap, clean cunt, and young skin from mere inches away. The Beast began showing renewed interest. "Honey, as long as your pussy is kept normally clean, it's just fine. If you don't wash for a couple of days and it gets all funky, then that's different, but fresh pussy juice has some kind of chemicals--pher... phera... whatever they are--that attract men and make us interested."
"You mean 'pheromones,' like bug traps use?" she asked, looking down between her small, round breasts and between those long, slim thighs to the lower part of his face.
Richard's eyes were roaming over the almost flawless thighs and buttocks, the soft, fat little pillows of her outer labia, the thin line of the inner lips just visible within her slit, and the short cornsilk hair growing on her prominent mound and trailing back thinly along either side of her sweet-smelling slit. When he had time, he'd be amazed again at what Wynter did and did not know.
"That's the word," he said. "Honey, it smells just wonderful and looks--well, it looks good enough to eat, and I can't wait any longer to taste you. Are you ready?"
She was. He guided her back and rubbed his nose over her butt cheeks, down along her thighs, and up them to the already dampening pinkness within her little slit. The tip of his nose toyed with the little button of her clit. It swelled and stiffened before he moved his nose into the wetness that was collecting at the tiny opening of her love tunnel. He noted that the entrance wasn't restricted by a hymen, as he had expected. She was an active, athletic girl and could have ruptured it any number of times and ways over the past several years, but he was sure he knew how she lost it.
He eased the tip of his nose into the tight, wet tube and inhaled what she would probably refer to now as her "natural pheromones." He nose-fucked her twice before sliding his juice-slickened snout up to the tight pucker of her little butt hole. That, too, had been scrubbed fresh and clean, he noticed, as his tongue licked the downy pillows of her outer lips. He placed several kisses on her thighs, ass, and pussy before repeating the lick. Then he slowly licked his way into her slit and alternated between probing the entrance to her love mine and the hard little stick of her twat trigger.
Maybe he was alive, maybe he was dead; whichever it was, Richard King was in Heaven.
Wynter felt nervous anxiety as she knelt over father's body with her pussy almost touching his face. She was so afraid that he'd be disappointed with her pussy once he tasted it. She shivered when his nose rubbed lightly over her behind--her butt or ass, as grownups called it--and then down her legs, and then up between them. The horny feeling in her clitty started growing, and when his nose brushed that little hard stick of flesh, the feeling seemed to consume her whole lower body. If Daddy didn't like her pussy, she'd have to get herself off with her fingers, and she'd do it while sitting in the chair so he could watch. Unless, of course, he was so disappointed with her that he didn't want to watch, either. In that case, she'd have to wait until he went to sleep.
She thought she'd die from either horniness or happiness, she wasn't sure which, when his nose slid into the tight, wet opening of her burning cunny. There was a not-unpleasant feeling of coldness when he inhaled and air rushed across her inner lips. Or whatever they were called. And then she felt her father's nose push up inside of her, and again, and again, and she heard his sigh of pleasure. She knew that was what it was because it sounded just like her own. And with that, she knew he was pleased, and that she could stop worrying. If there was something he didn't like, it had been overcome by her natural pheromones.
His nose slid out of her opening, and she felt a mixture of both disappointment with its absence and anticipation at what might be next. It probed her anus. Her butt hole, if grownups called people's the same as Daddy had called Dragon's. She needed to remember to ask him about that. She was suddenly thankful that she'd had the foresight to wash everything down there very thoroughly when she took her shower.
And then she stopped thinking when she felt his tongue caress the fat little pads on either side of her split. Her jump in horniness left no room for thought. She felt a dozen kisses on her cunny, her butt, her legs, seeming to all land at once. Another lick along her split tightened the clock spring in her cunny another notch. And another. And another. He was slowly licking his way into her split, and Wynter thought she would die of pleasure overdose before she could cum again. His tongue in her pussy felt as much better than French kissing as French kissing felt better than regular kissing.
His tongue stroked along the length of her clitty, to include the exposed head. It didn't feel uncomfortable the way her finger did, even when she coated her finger with her natural lubrication--her pussy juice, said the correcting thought that seemed to come from another world.
She shivered with delight when his exploring tongue reached her cunny opening, expecting him to repeat the lick. Instead, it snaked inward until it was inside her cunny, making her gasp in surprise. It pulled back and thrust in again, several times, causing her to wonder if fucking felt that good, too.
What was that noise? It was her, moaning every time his hot tongue pushed up into her tight cunny hole. She held her breath, but the moaning continued. It was her father, and they had been moaning together, except, she vaguely realized, they were off-key. She thought that she should make an effort to get on key with him, but his tongue had pulled out of her cunny and returned for another lick up the length of her hard little clitty, and she lost all control of her next moan, and the ones that followed as he switched between licking her aching clitty and probing up her burning cunny hole.
When she was masturbating that afternoon for her second time ever, she had wondered if oral sex would feel as good as masturbation. The answer was clearly, "No." It felt a lot better!
She knelt there, with her face above his hard dick, moaning in discordant harmony, feeling the spring in her cunny grow tighter and tighter and tighter as she enjoyed his mixture of furious licking and kissing and sucking on everything he could reach between her legs. She almost came when he sucked her clitty between his lips and began flipping it with his tongue. He had stopped at exactly the wrong moment and resumed shoving his tongue into her cunny hole.
Her eyes were closed! She opened them and saw that she was resting her upper body on her forearms, just above his lower abdominal area. His large, hard dick was an inch away, moving as her father humped empty air, the dark hair around it moving with the air panting out of her lungs. She lowered her head and kissed the nerve bundle just below the head and heard him gasp. She licked the underside from the tip of the head back to his nuts, and he moaned and humped harder. She repeated the movement, and he began licking the length of her clitty, in time with her licking his dick. His body began tensing under hers, and his dick began to swell even larger.
She brought her mouth back to the tip and opened wide to take the head in. The tight spring in her cunny overwound and exploded in a thousand shards, each one riding its own wave of pleasure through her body.
She wasn't sure who came first.
Wynter was lying face down on her father's torso, her face next to the end of his dick and her cunny in his face. She was gasping for air, and he was shaking like an earthquake under her as his body also gasped for air. She felt his hot breath on her very upper legs and her pussy, and he seemed to be softly moaning. It was a happy-sounding moan, not one of pain or discomfort. She started giggling and couldn't stop. She was that happy. She slowly pulled her feet out from under his extended arms, rose on hands and knees, and turned her head to look at him.
She felt something thick and wet at the corner of her mouth and wiped it away when she was balanced and able to lift a hand. It was his semen--his cum. Then she remembered that she'd been sucking on his dick when he came. She touched her tongue to it, decided she liked it, and with a twist of her finger, wiped it onto her tongue and swallowed it. She turned about, careful not to bump his arm casts or his leg cast, and looked at him while still on all fours above him. He looked even happier than he had after her last handjob; happier than after she let him suck her tits. His face was smeared with her natural lubrication--her pussy juice, she reminded herself--making it seem to glow.
He gave her that warm, loving smile that in turn made her glow all inside, and he gasped, "Honey--I hope--you had--as much fun--as I had." If he hadn't been a man, she'd have sworn that he giggled before he said, "That's the best time--I've ever had--in my entire life."
She carefully eased up over his whole body and lowered herself, watching for signs that she was causing him discomfort, until she was stretched out atop him, with his dick between her thighs and her arms trying to wrap around his body under his arms. He couldn't hug her, so she hugged for both of them.
"I love you, Daddy," she said, squeezing her arms tighter about him.
"I love you, too, Wynter." His voice said he meant it, and that made her body tingle all over.
They lay there in silence for a few moments, enjoying the warm closeness of each other. Before long he spoke again. "Honey, would you do me a favor?'
She raised upright, Mother Hen rushing to her face, though a little slower than usual. "What do you need? I'll do it for you!"
He gave her a strange look--almost a disappointed one. "You were doing it until you raised up," he said, getting back his breath. He panted for a second and then said, "I wanted you to stay right were you were and to keep holding me for a while."
"Oh. Sure! Tell me if I put pressure on your casts." She eased back down, watching his face for signs of pain. When she was down, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her chin against his chest instead of her cheek. She smiled as she looked at his face. She couldn't believe how happy he looked.
"Honey," he asked, sounding almost a little nervous, "if it's not too much trouble and it's not uncomfortable for you, would you mind holding me while I go to sleep? I'm barely able to stay awake, despite the fact that I'm so happy that I don't want to go to sleep."
"It's no trouble, Daddy. But you have my natural--I mean, my pussy juice smeared all over your face. Don't you want me to clean you up first?"
"Huh uh," he grunted. "Not unless it bothers you."
"Not really," she said, turning her head and squeezing him tightly, not caring that the pajama top button was hard against her cheekbone. "I guess my natural pheromones work on you, huh?"
He made an odd laugh that sounded echoey through the ear against his chest. "I guess they do, honey. I'm sorry I can't stay awake. Women always complain that men want to go to sleep right after their orgasms. Maybe I have a legitimate excuse, though?"
"You're hurt, and you need to rest to recover," she said, keeping her face tight against his chest as she continued to hug him. "You have a reason, not an excuse." She thought that sounded like a grown-up response and was very pleased with herself.
Richard awoke to a pressure on his body. He opened his eyes and saw blonde hair just below his chin. His face seemed tight, and he remembered. He licked the dried pussy juice and saliva mix from his lips. My god, she still tasted wonderful. She was asleep, breathing slowly and evenly.
He was uncomfortable, but he was always uncomfortable with his arms and one leg hanging there, pulling slightly against their joints. But he was being held in a warm, comforting embrace. She was no longer squeezing, but her arms were still warm around him. He wished he'd had her remove his pajama top first so that he could feel her silky-smooth skin against his. Of course, she might have found all his scars to be uncomfortable, he admitted.
He had felt wonderful when Angie squat-fucked him before she left, but that was nothing compared to how his eleven-year-old daughter had made him feel by humping her juicy little twat in his face and sucking on the Beast. He hadn't expected the blow job, and he didn't have a chance to warn her that he was cumming. He was surprised that she said nothing about him cumming in her mouth. Not that she'd had much opportunity to say anything, but if she'd been upset, he was certain that she would have said something, wouldn't she? But she was Wynter.
She had wiped some seepage from the corner of her mouth and swallowed it when she arose afterward. He hadn't planned to bring up the idea of oral sex on himself at that time and was more than pleased that she'd done it of her own volition.
The memory made the Beast twitch once. He thought the bastard was dead after the strength of his last orgasm. He wondered where his body had found enough cum to shoot into his daughter's sweet, coral-lipped mouth and its rows of perfect white teeth. Perhaps he hadn't actually shot into her mouth after all, and what she wiped from her lips was his entire load, expended outside her mouth. But he was sure he remembered her lips encircling the head and her tongue rubbing rings around it as the Beast opened fire.
He lay there for a long while, memorizing every detail of the moment. He was wondering if there were any way he could keep her there that night as he finally drifted back to sleep.
The tickling sensation at the end of his nose wouldn't go away. Richard couldn't move his arm to swipe at it, and his arm hurt when he tried. He dragged himself to consciousness and opened his eyes to see blonde bangs brushing across the tip of his nose, then lifting to reveal two sparkling blue-green pools checking to see if he was awake yet. When she saw him looking at her, her face lifted higher to bring puckered coral lips up for a tip of the nose kiss. There were no words to express how loved he felt every time she did that. He had difficulty forcing his smile into a pucker as her lips lowered to gently kiss his.
"Time to wake up," she said. "You should have taken your pills a half-hour ago."
She said it in a calm voice, with a hint of a smile. Richard couldn't have been more surprised if she'd jumped up and kicked him in the nuts. Wynter always fretted herself silly if she were just five minutes late with his pills. Always, that is, until this time.
"You're waking me up to give me a sleeping pill?" he asked with an exaggerated frown.
"I don't think you need one," she said, her face suddenly glowing with a huge smile.
That wasn't the way the game went. Something was different.
"It took me ten minutes to wake you up," she said with an odd giggle.
Something was radically different. It wasn't her little-girl-giggle that he often heard when they joked with each other. It sounded, well--more grown up, he finally decided.
"You've been tickling my nose for ten minutes?"
"Unh uh," she said. "That only took about ten seconds." The huge smile remained as radiant as before as she searched his eyes with her own.
"Well, then just what were you doing for the other nine minutes and fifty seconds?" His futile attempt to sound stern changed her giggle to a laugh.
"Tickling you with my hair," she said.
He frowned, trying to make sense of that. It was the tickling with her hair that had awakened him.
She reached behind her and wrapped her hand around the Beast. It was erect, though it had to be a piss-hardon after the workout it had endured the past couple of days. The thought made him realize how distended his bladder was. Then somebody finally hit him with a mental sledgehammer. "Oh!"
"It got hard, but you didn't wake up," Wynter said. She was having trouble sounding disappointed because she couldn't stop smiling and giggling. She lifted her butt from his abdomen, relieving some of his bladder pressure, and scooted back until she was over his hard dick. She lowered her body slightly and brushed the cornsilk of her nether hair along the rigid Beast.
"Not even when I did this," she said with another giggle. "Or this," she added, lowering a little more until he felt the warmth of her pillowy outer lips against his dick. She hunched her hips slowly and left a warm, wet trail along his lance of lust, then reversed her direction and added to it. She moaned softly, and need showed in her eyes.
"It felt so good to me that I came in just a couple of minutes, Daddy, but you didn't wake up then, either."
Damn! "I'm truly sorry I missed that, honey. I really would have loved seeing it." The only time he'd seen her orgasm up close was when her juicy little twat had been smeared across his face. He had loved watching the way her cunt had swollen and throbbed, especially that short stretch between her sweet little vagina and her hot little anus, and the way her opening expanded and then squeezed shut, as if it were sneezing. But he also wanted to watch her face during orgasm, to see if her expressions, like her contractions, mimicked Angie's.
"Well," she said, lowering her head but keeping eye contact, "I guess I could do it again for you. After you've had your pills."
"Promise?" he asked, realizing he must have sounded like a schoolboy being offered a new bicycle.
"Cross my heart," she replied, tracing an "X" between those two wonderful pink orbs bracketing her heart. "A good nurse never fibs to her patient," she continued, lowering the Beast gently to his stomach and releasing it.
"Nurse? I thought you were my student!"
"Nurse now, then student," she said in a stern voice, carefully swinging her left leg over so that she could climb off the bed, "or else I'll have to explain to Nurse Carter why your pills were so late." She tried to give him a glare that matched her voice, the way Ellen Carter had done on a couple of occasions when he'd been obstinate, but she broke up in a fit of giggles.
"Well, Nurse King, I need two things worse than I need the pills, and the first is the urinal and the second is a kiss."
She understood that the second priority for the kiss meant that he was desperate for the urinal and flew into action. She had the bed upright in record time, yet managed to do it without causing any additional discomfort to his arms and leg. Or perhaps the pain in his bladder caused him to ignore any such additional discomfort. Fortunately the Beast had retreated so that he could piss as soon as she had his flaccid cock in the mouth of the urinal.
She smiled at him when he moaned in relief, then turned her attention back to her task in hand. No blushing, no looking away. His little girl really was growing up. He'd give a year's pay just to have his arms free for one minute to squeeze her to himself in a bear hug of Olympian might. He did not want to give up his little girl. And yet, he had wanted that same little girl to become just what she was evolving into. Wynter was absolutely right, he realized: grownups did lead lives that were far too complicated.
"DADDY! WHAT'S WRONG?"
She was staring at his left cheek. He slowly realized that a trickle of wetness ran down it from the outer corner of his eye. "Nothing, honey," he said with a forced smile that he hoped looked natural to her. "I guess it's just a reaction to the relief. I was about to explode."
Fortunately she accepted his statement. When he was finished she stripped the residual piss out of his cock with two strokes that would have brought the Beast to life if it hadn't had such a workout for the past two days. She put the urinal on the side table while she adjusted the sheet over him.
"There's one other thing I need," he said in a quiet voice, bringing Mother Hen to life. "I really need a kiss on the nose before you go."
She giggled and complied, adding a daughterly kiss on his lips. But when she drew back, her face had an odd look faintly overlaid on her delicate features. She suspected that something was different, but she was too dedicated to her nursing duties to take time to ask him what. He knew that she would ask when she returned with his pills and furiously searched for an answer.
She emptied and cleaned the urinal, then replaced it below the foot of the bed. "Pain pill or i-bu-pro-fin?" she asked, slowly sounding out the syllables of the word that just would not flow easily off her warm, wet tongue.
"Ibuprofen," he said with a smile that hid the turmoil in his brain.
While she counted out the pills, compared them to the schedule, and noted the type and time in his records, he remembered his lecture about honesty and trust. He would not lie when she asked.
"They're not very chewy," he complained. "They weren't cooked long enough."
"Maybe I overcooked them and made them tough," she retorted as she popped the last one in his mouth and held the straw to his mouth.
He managed to swallow it with a sip of water before they broke up in laughter. She let him drink his fill of water and put the glass on the night stand. After she lowered the bed to a thirty degree angle she turned to him, her face serious.
"Daddy...."
The phone interrupted. It was Ellen Carter. Wynter offered to let him speak to her, but once again he told her that it was her job to take care of nurse business. He watched her smile explode across her face. Her slender, nude body seemed to swell slightly and glow, but with pride, not embarrassment. He watched her, as if seeing her for the first time. He heard her voice but not her words as she discussed her patient on a nurse-to-nurse basis. He was too busy wondering if he'd been given Wynter as compensation for all the pain he'd had to endure from his frequent injuries.
Then he wondered if all that pain was the compensation he had to give for the privilege of having her. If it was, then he was paying a bargain price, he decided, as she hung up the phone.
Ellen Carter switched off the cordless phone, snuggled into the corner formed by the overstuffed couch's back and arm, and adjusted the Navajo blanket over her lap and folded legs. She put the phone on the end table and hesitated a moment before picking up her cup of honeyed tea. As she blew on the tea to cool it, she frowned. Just who in the hell was that self-assured, confident adult was who had talked to her in Wynter King's voice?
"Daddy, something's wrong, isn't it?" The beautiful blue-green gems, just inches from his own eyes, sat under a bluff weathered with Mother Hen worry.
Richard made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a soft laugh. "Before the phone rang, I'd have said yes. But now I know that I'd have been wrong, and that everything is the way it should be. But first tell me what Ellen said and then I'll tell you all about it."
Wynter looked uncertain for a moment, but that passed. She knew he was telling her the truth. She trusted him. Richard saw that trust in her face and felt really, really good about himself. He was the kind of father his child could trust implicitly. He focused on her eyes and waited.
"Nurse Carter said that they expect to have the road clear by two or three tomorrow afternoon. She's bringing Doctor Taylor with her. He's going to check your hands to see if he can remove them from the casts, but he said you shouldn't get your hopes up. She has your right prescription with her, and she said that the pharmacist won't make that mistake again."
Richard winced. Ellen Carter was just a couple of years older than he was. Not only was she exceptionally competent and skilled as a nurse, she also was attractive. Oh, sure, she'd never win the Miss America title, but she was a shoo-in for Miss Congeniality, even at her current age. But in less time than an eyeblink she could metamorphose into the Queen of Bitches. Kevin Taylor called her Nurse Jekyll and Ms. Hyde for damned good reason.
Richard had received one of Ellen's tirades when he had been similarly recuperating at home from an earlier accident. Dragon had actually left Wynter's side in the family room to check on the commotion, and for the rest of the day Angie, who claimed she'd heard nothing in the kitchen, couldn't keep from laughing every time she looked at him. After that Richard was the best patient he could possibly be. Deep down he didn't really believe any of Ellen's threats, but he was unwilling to test that belief, just in case he was wrong.
"Now," she said, grasping her pony tail and leaning forward to kiss his nose and lips, "what is or isn't wrong?"
Richard indicated the side of the bed with a nod. "Have a seat," he said.
Wynter sat on the edge of the bed and turned, moving her left leg over so that her father could see both her tits and her pussy if he wanted to look at them. He had told her how much he loved looking at them, but now he barely glanced at them. If he wasn't looking because he still thought that was what was best in the long run, then she'd just have to set her patient straight! She straightened and inhaled deeply, thrusting her tits toward him. She felt warm all over when his eyes dropped to them for a moment.
"That's better," she said. When he looked puzzled she explained. "You've hardly looked at them since you woke up. I was wondering if you'd stopped liking to look at me."
Now he looked embarrassed! But his eyes dropped down to her tits and lingered there, looking back and forth from one to the other. And the tip of his tongue licked his lips for just an instant, the way it had the first time she'd let him have a good look. Her tits lifted slightly as her chest swelled with happiness, and she thought she heard him moan. "Don't forget this," she said, using her fingers to hold her split--her pussy, she reminded herself yet again--open so he could see her clitty.
"Honey, if I ever come down with Alzheimer's, I promise you that your pussy will be the last thing I forget," he said with a touch of horniness in his voice as he looked all around her pussy area.
"Promise?" she asked. She hadn't played the promise game with him in a long time, but it suddenly seemed grownup instead of childish to her, like some of the games he played with Mother.
"Cross my heart," he said, looking up at her eyes. "Except I can't do that now for some reason." He looked at his casts and then her tits.
Drat! She'd forgotten about that. For an instant she felt childish for not thinking ahead, but then another thought overtook her. A good nurse always helps her patient with things he can't do for himself.
And a good daughter does the same for her father.
Wynter released her pussy lips and leaned forward, extending a forefinger and using it to trace an "X" on his chest. He looked at her eyes. Tears seemed to be collecting in his. Yes! She was sure of it.
"You wanted to know what was or wasn't wrong," he said in a low, quiet voice. When her father used that voice, he was being very serious with her. She sat back and waited for him to get his thoughts together. Nurse Carter said a good nurse always waited for a patient to get his thoughts together when he was about to say something that he was uncomfortable with or that embarrassed him. She began worrying about what was embarrassing him or making him uncomfortable.
He smiled at her, looked at the ceiling for a moment, and then met her eyes. "It's about being a parent, and you're going to go through this same moment yourself some day. I don't know what it's called, so let's make up a name for it. Let's call it, 'The Moment the Lights Came On.' Okay?"
"Okay," she said, wondering what that meant. But a good nurse didn't rush her patient.
"You're going to spend years helping your child grow up to be a young woman or a young man. You're going to do that because that's your primary purpose as a parent. It's a job that consumes your very existence day and night, but it's a labor of love, and you'll think there can be no greater calling in the whole entire world. Understand?"
"Yes." She really and truly did. But she still didn't know where this was going.
"Night and day; day and night. You're doing all you can to help your child grow up. And then comes the moment that you suddenly know that she really is growing up. The moment you realize she's becoming a young woman. Oh, sure, you say that you know she's growing up, but somehow, deep inside, you still think of her as your child. It's like you are in the dark until, suddenly, and apparently with no warning whatsoever, the lights come on. That's when, deep inside, what you are thinking changes to what you've been saying."
She nodded, afraid to speak, because she thought her lights were coming on, too, and she thought her voice might break. But then he smiled at her again and made her feel warm all through her body.
"Another lesson Grandpa King tried to get through my thick head. Maybe you'll be smart enough to understand it before it happens, since you're now the brains of the family."
She felt her head lowering. She couldn't stop it, but she did keep her eyes on his. She put her hand on his leg and rubbed gently, a demonstration of her love for him--like a substitute for a kiss.
"I'm selfish," he said. "I don't want to give up my little girl, yet I also want to do my part to make you the best adult woman you can possibly be."
"Like I felt when Dragon changed from a funny, clumsy puppy into a grownup dog?"
"Yes! Exactly. But, honey, I promise you something: even when you are a hundred years old and I'm older than dirt, somewhere deep inside me, under whatever casts I'll be wearing then, a part of you is still going to be my little girl, so don't get mad at me when I act that way, because I've already warned you."
"I won't get mad. I love you, Daddy," she said, wanting to throw her arms around him and never let go.
He apparently felt the same way. "Can I have a hug?"
The sun on the snow had been almost blinding when she had stretched along her father's body and wrapped her arms about him. Now it was almost dark. They'd fallen asleep, and now she needed to go pee as badly as her father had needed it when he last awoke. She didn't want to give up her warm perch on top of him, but she sure as heck didn't want to get his bed wet, either.
She carefully crawled off him. Her back hurt just a little from having slept at an angle, but she didn't care. She had snuggled and held her father, who she loved with all her heart, for almost two hours, and that was worth every twinge she felt.
She lowered herself onto the toilet seat and looked at the mass of black hair and red tongue that had taken his usual guard position in the doorway. "Dragon," she said, "do you ever think you'd be happier as a puppy again?"
He cocked his head and lashed his tail about.
"That's what I thought."
She flushed and then washed her pussy really good with warm water and soap, rinsing carefully so that her father wouldn't taste soap if he wanted to eat her again. She hoped so. And she had something else she wanted to try before Nurse Carter returned.
Richard couldn't suppress a sigh of contentment. He had dozed off with Wynter stretched out atop him and awakened to the smell of lasagna on the bedside table and the feel of her tongue lashing the flaccid Beast in the warm, snug cavern of her mouth. He'd told her that the floppy thing was worn out for the night, but with pure lust in her eyes she'd replied, "Don't bet the mortgage on it," one of her mother's frequent replies whenever she disagreed with something he said.
Based on that, he'd asked for a pain pill instead of ibuprofen, expecting that he would need it before the night was over. He was correct.
Dessert was a multi-course treat. It started with almond praline ice cream. Next came tiny pink nipples on small firm breasts as she knelt with her legs on either side of him and leaned forward. Now he was having the final dessert course. He'd have called it a "fish muffin," but she'd washed it so clean that it now had just the heady, intoxicating aroma of young girl and clean pussy overlaid faintly with the flowery perfume of the soap. His mind detoured momentarily and named the course, "Hirsute Angel's Lips à la Natural Lubrication," causing an involuntary chuckle.
Naturally, she instantly lifted her body from his, releasing her meat popsicle dessert from her mouth, to stare down between their bodies at his wet face. "Daddy, is something wrong?" Mother Hen asked.
"No, honey," he said with a grin that echoed in his voice. "You really do need to learn that during sex, people make all kinds of odd sounds, laughter, and sometimes even crying. It's not because something is wrong; it's because they feel so good that they just can't control it. Sex is where you stop being rational and start being emotional. Sometimes your brain just does strange things on its own and you can't control it. Like the time your mother...."
He wasn't surprised that when he didn't continue, she asked, "Mother what?"
"Well, I might get in trouble if I tell you," he said. Oh, sure. As if I wouldn't be in trouble if she could see us like this right now, naked in bed together with Wynter's spit all over the Beast and pussy juice all over my face.
The old Wynter would have immediately dropped the topic, probably with an apology. This was the new Wynter. With a hint of eagerness she said, "I won't tell her that you told me. Okay?" She shifted her weight so that she could move her hand to her chest. One finger crossed her heart.
What the hell? "Okay." He almost added, "If you promise," but he realized in time that such a qualification would have been an implied insult. She had already promised.
"It was one night when you were two or three years old. She remembered something her tenth grade biology teacher had said in class: 'red roundworms.' It wasn't the least bit funny at the time he'd said it in class, but that night, for reasons she still can't explain, her mind dragged it out of a storage vault, put it up in flashing neon lights, and wouldn't turn loose of it. It suddenly became the funniest thing she'd ever heard. She'd have a hysterical laughing fit, and as soon as it was over and I'd try to get back into her, she'd say, 'Red roundworms!' and start laughing like a maniac all over again. I finally had to give up for the night."
Obviously his daughter wasn't so wrapped up in what they were doing that she wasn't in full control of her own mental faculties. She had no trouble drawing the accurate conclusion about the impact that had on his damaged vas deferens. "But, Daddy, didn't that make you hurt," she released his semi-hard cock and lightly rubbed the left side of his groin, "in here?"
"Well, yeah," he admitted. "After she went to sleep, I went into the bathroom to masturbate."
Her voice went deadly serious. "Well, don't worry, Daddy. I'll see to it you get off and don't have to do that tonight!"
"Good," he said with an eagerness he didn't feel. "I don't think I could make it to the bathroom in these casts!" He couldn't believe that the Beast was responding to his daughter's hands and mouth and actually erecting again, but he knew another orgasm was beyond question that day. He'd be lucky if he could get off again the next day, before Ellen could make it back from town.
From Wynter's technique it was obvious that cocksucking was something new to her, yet she was so damned good at it! Nursing wasn't her only natural skill. He thought at first that it might be the slight hesitancy implying innocence that he found so exciting. Then he told himself that he could wonder about that when Ellen returned the next day and he had nothing else to occupy his time. It was then that his mind had taken the detour.
"Honey, I wasn't finished with dessert. May I please have some more?"
"Only if you promise to eat every bite!" He heard the grin on her unseen face. His eyes were feasting on the smooth, white globes of her ass; the dark pink of her anal pucker; the brighter pink of her "vaginal region" that glistened with his saliva and her own "natural lubrication;" the soft pillows of her outer labia, swollen with desire; the tiny head of her still-erect clitoris peeking at him from within its hood; the narrow, thin inner lips running the short inch from her little clit to the opening of the succulent love tunnel that should have been glowing from its intense inner heat; and the incredibly soft, thin mat of first-growth pussy hair that would all-too-soon be coarse and rough.
"I'll eat it all, no matter how long it takes," he promised as she carefully steered her sweet little pussy back into place. "Cross my heart."
He waited while she reached back to draw an "X" on his chest and then steered her with vocal commands until she was where he wanted her. He kissed the juncture of her thighs with her cunt and with her gorgeous little ass. He kissed her tightly puckered little anus, and then kissed the "'taint" between her heavenly little holes. As his tongue resumed alternating between plunging into her steaming vagina and licking the length of her love trough, he felt her mouth again close around his erect cock and wondered how the Beast had managed to keep from shrinking as soon as the direct stimulation had ended.
Lost in the excitement of eating her wonderful young pussy, he forgot about the discomfort in his arms and legs and back and hips, except for the times when he involuntarily tried to enfold her in his arms or caress her body. For a while, time ceased.
The force of her girlish, barely restrained laughter vibrated Richard's stomach as it supported the weight of her upper body. Her lower body was still supported by her knees, but they quivered like they were about to collapse. She managed to gasp, "Stop!" and he pulled his head back to watch her young cunt spasm with her fourth orgasm of the evening.
He wondered what would happen if he were to say, "Red roundworms!" Fortunately, he had enough sense to conclude that sometimes ignorance was the better choice.
The laughter slowly faded to a happy chuckle every ten seconds, accompanied by a vaginal contraction that caused her tiny open cunt to wink at him, as if she were flirting upside-down. He carefully kissed her thighs, being careful not to tickle or startle her, and avoiding her still-sensitive little pussy. He would wait until she had caught her breath before asking if she wanted him to eat her to a fifth cum, desperately hoping that she would say, "Yes."
Richard loved Angie to the very depths of his being, but if he had to make a choice of having only his wife's pussy or his daughter's for oral sex for the rest of his life, he would choose Wynter's without a second thought.
The Beast, of course, had not erupted in her zealous little mouth, but to his amazement, it had stayed hard. No doubt the permanent erection was aided by all the different things she was discovering she could do with it while it was at her complete disposal for a "laboratory exercise."
She lifted her upper body onto her forearms, shoving her steaming cunt back toward his face. He eagerly thrust out his tongue and pulled his head forward, aiming for the clit that had retracted back into its glistening, wet hood...
...and just missed the target as she straightened her body upright on her knees. One hand flipped her pony tail back into place while the other rubbed her neck for a moment. The firm little globes of her buttocks clenched and dimpled at the sides as she stretched like an awakening cat. His little girl giggled again, then looked over her shoulder at him with the dreamy face of a sexually satisfied woman. The dreamy look stayed, but her eyes widened.
"You look like somebody held your head under the pond!"
He winked at her. "Well, I didn't have a towel in reach, and it would have been impolite for me to get up and go look for one."
She carefully turned until she was facing him, legs still astride his body but now on the opposite sides from where they had been, and looked down at him with a mixture of dreamy satisfaction and what was obviously love. She leaned down until her face was just above his. "Daddy, I love you!"
Before he could respond with his love for her she quickly kissed his wet nose and then glued her mouth to his, ignoring the layer of her pussy juice which coated his lips. She kissed him deeply, first attacking his tongue and then withdrawing so that he could chase it with his own. Time again ceased while their tongues chased each other back and forth, accompanied by a duet of grunts that evolved into moans of desperate longing and aching desire.
When she broke the connection she straightened and looked down at him. He gasped for air and looked into her blue-green eyes, sparkling in a face he'd never seen before. It was his eleven-year-old daughter's face underneath, but it had been overlaid with veneers of that sexually satisfied glow, a look of carnal need (How can women always manage both at the same time? he wondered), and what appeared to be a more mature version of her look of impish deviltry.
"Now you have pussy juice all over your mouth," he said with a grin, guessing what the new Wynter would do. He was right. Instead of jumping up to fetch a towel or washcloth, her little tongue flew out, wiped down her lips, and disappeared back into that strange grin. She remained there, grinning down at him and not moving. "What?" he asked.
If anything, her grin grew even wider as she began easing backward on her knees.
Richard's curiosity grew as Wynter continued to inch backward. When her little pussy was directly over the Beast, she changed direction and began slowly settling until he felt the hot wetness of her slit press down on his semi-erection. As she had done that afternoon, she rocked her hips, tracing a slick, wet path first up and then down the Beast. After that, his cock was no longer "semi" erect, but a blue-steel diamond cutter that could deal out serious damage to an iron bar.
Wanton desire flashed across her face for a moment, but then the grin returned. After a moment he realized she was no longer moving her hips. The stimulation he now felt was from his humping the Beast along her slit. And she was timing the beat. Suddenly she began moving again, moving counter to his motion, and they both moaned in a discordant chorus.
On the seventh beat she closed her eyes, leaned forward slightly, and angled her pussy down. The Beast's nose popped into her slit and pressed against the tight opening of her burning love tunnel.
Richard froze. "Honey...."
Eyes squeezed shut, Wynter pressed her tight virgin cunt harder against the tip of his dick and wiggled her little ass, trying to force herself down around it. Each thrust was accompanied by a moan of need that included a grunt of frustration.
"Wynter!"
She stopped pushing and opened her eyes to look at his.
"Honey, no."
"Daddy, I want to!" she pleaded, leaning forward and planting her hands on the bed between his casts and his body, ready to shove backward with the additional leverage.
Richard knew what he had to say, but he did not want to say it. "But it's not right. We shouldn't."
He watched her eyes stare blankly at him from beneath her twisted forehead. She was so horny that she had difficulty processing the information. After a long moment she asked, "But if we can have oral sex, why can't we have intercourse?"
"Well...." How the fuck do I answer that one? "Honey, you know we shouldn't have done that, either. I'm sorry I talked you into it. I shouldn't have."
Another blank stare. Then, "You didn't talk me into it. Remember? You said we both had to want it or we wouldn't do it, and that's what happened. And if oral sex is that much better than masturbation, then I want to see how intercourse is. Unless you don't want me. I thought you did. But if you don't want me, then I won't. I just...." The little girl was returning to her voice. Tears started collecting. She broke eye contact and her head dropped. The old Wynter was taking control again and was about to panic.
"It's not that I don't want you, Wynter. I do."
The head came up again and tilted sideways as she frowned in confusion. "Then why don't we? Since you said you like being the first man to do things with a woman, I thought you'd like to be the first to have intercourse with me, just like you were the first to French kiss me and the first to have oral sex."
While she was talking she let the Beast's nose slip from the entrance to her tight little tube. It fell back against his stomach, and she began slowly sliding her clit along it, masturbating with his dick without realizing what she was doing. And, also without realizing it, she was driving his own need up and his resistance down.
But he gave it another try. "Honey, you know that fathers aren't supposed to have sex with their daughters."
"Then I'm not your daughter, I'm your nurse."
"Honey, nurses don't have sexual contact with their patients."
He saw the look on her face and wondered, Is there any way I could have handled that worse?
Probably not.
"Understand?"
She lay quietly for a minute, her tense body stretched along his, her arms tight around him, and her face in the puddle of her tears on his chest. "Yes,"she sobbed. "But all I wanted to do was be a good nurse to my patient, and a good daughter to my father." Again her body shook his with its wracking sobs, and he wanted nothing more out of life at that moment than to have his arms free to hold her. The best he could do was rub his cheek on the top of her head.
"Honey, you were--you are--the best nurse I've ever had. And no father ever had a better daughter. Not even Grandpa Wolfe--and I don't mean your Aunt Diane, I mean your mother."
"But I didn't...," another wracking sob interrupted her. "I didn't mean to get you in trouble with Mother."
It was The Moment the Lights Came On.
It wasn't that she had misunderstood the requirements of her nursing duties. It wasn't that she'd done something society frowned on. It wasn't that she felt like a child for making those mistakes or that she was mad at her self for having done so. Her sole concern was she had angered her mother with her father.
He rubbed his cheek against her blonde hair again, his nose still picking up the faint balsam scent of her shampoo and conditioner. "You know, honey, that it takes two people to do sex--except for masturbation."
She seemed to be thinking that over for a moment. "So?"
"So don't you think you're being a little selfish trying to hog all the blame for yourself?"
She raised her head and looked at him, her beautiful blue eyes rimmed with red and her left cheek soaked with her own tears. "But it's all my fault! Why would you want to take any blame?"
"For two reasons, honey. One, I'm at fault, too, and you know it. And the other reason is something you haven't learned yet. You think adults make weird decisions that don't make sense to you? Wait until you become a parent. You'll do anything to protect your child, no matter what her age is, when you are partly to blame. You will probably try to protect her even when she's totally to blame on some occasions. But if you're partly at fault, then you'll try to protect her from...."
He frowned in thought, his eyes searching the ceiling for the blatantly obvious concept that kept eluding him. It was flitting about like a moth around a light, just escaping his grasp. And then he looked at her eyes and knew.
"I was wrong. You have learned that, haven't you? That's what you're trying to do for me."
She sniffed, and a hint of a smile flickered for just an instant. "I'm not your parent."
"No, you're my student, and like a good student, you're teaching your teacher something he wasn't aware of. And like a good daughter, you're teaching your father, too."
"I love you, Daddy."
"And I love you, too. You know, if we're going to share blame, your mother gets some, too." He watched her frown. "She and I both wanted to live up here, isolated and away from civilization. That was good for the two of us, but not for the three of us. Neither she nor I realized that we weren't doing the right thing by keeping you isolated up here."
He saw the stricken look flash into place. "Don't you dare say it!" He was surprised by the harshness of his tone. His body was tense, as if in fight-or-flight mode. He relaxed and gently said, "You are not an imposition on our lifestyle. Life is full of trade-offs, and you opt for the one you want most. You want Dragon more than you want that corner of the back yard where you used to play fairy princess. You gave it up so that he could have a puppy potty.
"Well, your mother and I want you more than we want this 'fairy castle.' Our fairy princess is far more important. We knew the night we made you--and that's exactly what we were trying to do that night--we knew that we wanted you and that we were willing to make any sacrifice necessary to have you."
She sniffed and nodded understanding.
"If I ever even get a vague impression that you might possibly be thinking that you are an imposition or that you are standing in the way of something we want, I'll turn you over my knee and spank that incredibly cute, bare little butt of yours. There is nothing in this world that we want more than you. Understand?"
Her head dropped at the compliment, but her eyes stayed on his, and a grin forced itself in to place. "I understand." Her head lifted and inspiration showed in her reddened eyes. She sniffed again and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Can I fib to you sometimes and say that I'm thinking it?"
Unable to see where that was going, the teacher prepared to learn from his student again. "Why?" he asked cautiously.
She gave him an odd smile, a mixture of love, and devil-imp. "So you'll have an excuse to look at my butt! I'll keep my legs open so you can look at my pussy, too."
Uh oh. The Beast sprang to life with a vengeance, pressing against her joined thighs. She parted them and allowed it to flip into its upright position. Richard felt the still-wet pubic hair framing her slit brush the Beast's nose. She squeezed her thighs together, trapping it in place. He was amazed that she had the self-control not to start humping. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that he didn't as his hips cycled before he could get control.
Devil-imp kept smiling, but love was still visible, too, as she asked. "Daddy, you're supposed to be completely honest with me if I ask you a question. Right?"
"Right." He knew where this was going, and he wasn't sure he could keep it under control.
"I want you to be the first man to have intercourse with me. Cross my heart." She raised up and used a fingertip to draw an "X" between those small orbs that seemed to crowd everything else out of his vision. "Do you want to be the first man to--um--fuck me?"
He knew the right thing to do was to lie to her, but he couldn't. She trusted him to be honest. "Next to being out of these casts so I can hold you, I want nothing more than to be the first man to make love to you. There's a difference."
She used her hand to wipe her face and sniffed again. "What's the difference?"
"Fucking is a sport--something you do for fun. Making love is something you do to show how much you care for someone. Sometimes you do one, sometimes you do the other, sometimes you do both at the same time."
She blinked; then again. "Then I want to make love to you, and I want you to make love to me. It's what we both want, and if Mother is going to be mad at us for having had oral sex, she can't be any madder if you make love to me. And you always say it's easier to get forgiveness than permission."
Richard did some blinking of his own while she began thigh masturbating not her clitoris but his erect cock. Okay, maybe her clitoris got stimulated, too, but she was definitely affecting his ability to think. Her sudden change of emotion had him wondering if Wynter had actually maneuvered him into this situation, but he quickly abandoned that idea. He had no doubt that she was smart enough to devise that plan, but he also had no doubt that she wouldn't. It would not be honest. No, it had to be that her hormone factories had gone into overdrive and were flooding that slender, smooth-skin, incredibly sexy little body with a deluge of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Her hormones were in charge. She might be only vaguely aware of what she was actually doing.
"Daddy?"
Mother Hen had tinged her voice. She was waiting for a reply, and his mind was wandering. He sighed. "There's going to be a problem getting me in you," he said.
Wynter nodded. "I know. My hymen. I know it will hurt at first, but I don't mind."
Richard chuckled. "No, not that, honey. As grownups would say, your cherry has already been busted."
She lapsed into panic mode. "Daddy, I haven't had sex with anyone else! I promise."
"Yes, honey, I know that," he said with a grin. "But it's easy to break it lots of different ways because it's right at the very entrance into your vagina, and it's usually very thin. An active girl like you could have done it many different ways, but unless it happened earlier, I think I know how you lost it."
She stopped squeezing the Beast with her thighs but left it within its warm trap. "How?"
"Remember a few years ago when you were walking down that tree limb and your feet slipped? They went to both sides and you sat down hard?"
"Oh, I couldn't forget that." She shuddered, quivering her thighs around his erection. "It hurt for almost a week! So you think I lost my--my cherry then?"
His hips cycled, rubbing the Beast between her smooth thighs. "Unless you'd done something similar and lost it earlier. I wasn't surprised when I didn't find one while I was eating you. I remembered thinking two things when you fell: 'I hope she didn't inherit my tendency toward accidents,' and 'I hope whoever she marries doesn't expect proof of virginity,'"
She giggled.
"No, the problem is that you might be too tight for me to get in you. I wasn't able to tell with my fingers, of course, but you did seem awfully tight to my tongue."
She frowned. "Is there any way to tell if you don't use your fingers?"
Richard chuckled. "Well, there is one way for sure."
She gave an exaggerated sigh and shrug. "Works for me," she said, unable to keep the grin from spreading across her face.
Wynter thought her father was being too cautious. After all, grownup women had vaginas that normally weren't much bigger than a hardon, but they stretched enough to let a baby get out through them. And he was just trying to watch out for her the way any good parent would and the way she would protect her children some day. She didn't want to argue with him because she knew that, and because she was afraid that he might change his mind again.
The inside of her vagina--her pussy--was nice and wet and slick, making it easy for her to slip her own fingers inside and show him how much it stretched. His dick really got hard while he was watching her do that. It got even harder after he had her hold her hands and fingers exactly the same way in front of his face so he could see how much she had stretched. And then he asked to suck the pussy juice off her fingers, and his dick got so hard it raised up from his tummy, and she thought he was going to cum again right then.
She thought he would make love to her then, but he said he wanted to try something else: he wanted to see what size vibrators she could comfortably get in her. That didn't make sense.
"Daddy, if I can't get my hand without a vibrator on it in my pussy, I don't think I can get it in there with a vibrator." His laugh told her she'd said something stupid again, but she had no idea what.
"This is something different, honey," he said, looking like he was sorry he had laughed. "I wasn't laughing at what you said, I was laughing at the picture I saw in my mind. I'm not talking about a Swedish massager. I mean a different kind of vibrator, long and round like a penis, the kind women use to masturbate with. I really doubt that that's a topic your mother would have discussed with you. Few mothers do."
"No," she said, feeling a little less childish for not knowing. "But how are we going to get any with the road closed and...." From his face she realized there was something else her mother hadn't told her. "Mother has some?" Wynter couldn't imagine why. She had a husband for sex.
No, Wynter realized. She doesn't always have Daddy, even when he's home. Like now. Wynter suddenly felt very sorry for her mother and for what she missed out on when he or she was away, or when he was hurt really bad.
Which was what her father explained to her. And he also said that sometimes Mother used them even when he was with her, because he liked watching her use them on herself, and he liked using them on her as part of playing together. Wynter hadn't thought about her parents "playing," and certainly not doing so with sex! Grownups sure did keep a lot of secrets from kids.
He told her what drawer to look in and sent her to fetch them. On the way she let Dragon out and realized she had to go pee, too. She did, then washed her pussy really good for her father and let Dragon back in. A glance at the clock showed her how late it was. It was almost time for his last round of pills. She'd have to give them to him first, so they wouldn't have to stop making love.
Making love. She liked the sound of that. Fucking is a sport. Well, that sounded pretty good, too. But she was thrilled that her first time at intercourse was to be making love. If she could get her father's hardon inside her pussy. I really and truly want to get him inside me so I can show him just how much I love him, she thought as she opened the drawer and looked under the underclothes in the back right corner.
She couldn't stop her eyes from going wide and from gasping. She had no idea any such things existed. Three were different sizes of white plastic tubes tapered to a blunt, round point at one end and flat at the other. One was colored and shaped like a hardon with the foreskin pulled back. The fifth was a cylinder that had a thin piece as long as her finger at the top, where the others had been the same size or slightly larger in diameter than the rest of the tube. The thin piece was rippled, like a stack of jelly beans stacked end-to-end. She couldn't imagine why it was shaped that way. Surely her mother's vagina wasn't tight enough for that to do any good--not after she'd given birth. But when she tested the batteries in each by turning them on the way her father had told her to do, it vibrated, too.
She was so puzzled that she almost forgot to take the squeeze bottle of lubricant.
"Daddy, what's this?"
Did he turn a little bit red? "Oh. I'd forgotten about that one. That's--that's an anal probe."
"Like for a colonostomy? I mean, co-lon-os-co-py?" she corrected.
"Not exactly, but that's a good guess. Well, yes, I guess it is, sort of." He chuckled and then explained.
Wynter frowned. "And that's fun?" It sure didn't sound like fun to her. It sounded like a trip to the doctor.
"Some people think so. Different people like different things, honey. Besides, you thought oral sex didn't sound like much fun, didn't you?"
"I guess you're right," she said, reaching for his pills. She counted out the correct ones and gave them to him with some water.
"They're still tough."
Wynter sighed. "I guess I'll just have to let Dragon do the cooking."
"I take it back!" he said in mock horror. "I can just imagine what kind of pills Dragon would bring in from outside!"
Wynter felt herself blush as she laughed with him. Drat!
After she noted his medications in the records, she sat on the side of the bed with the vibrators and the lubricant squeeze bottle. "You might need the lube if you aren't wet enough," he said, telling her to start with the smallest one. It was a snug fit, but it entered her easily. She was so wet with her natural lubrication from thinking about finally having intercourse--making love--that she didn't need the squeeze bottle of slippery stuff.
She noticed her father's dick move as she pulled the vibrator out. He said he liked watching Mother use them, she remembered. She also noticed that her horny feeling got worse when she removed the vibrator. She carefully wiped it off with a wet cloth and put it on the rollaway table.
The next size was bigger, but still smaller than her father's hardon. She went slow and easy, the way her father told her to do, though she wanted to shove it in quickly because the first one had felt so good sliding into her.
"Good girl!" her father said. "Does it hurt?"
"No," she said, honestly. "But it feels really big. And really good, too!"
"You might want to turn it on and see if it relaxes you inside so you can get the next one in."
"Okay," she said warily, turning the base to make the connection. Well, her mother liked oral sex, and Wynter thought that was great. Her mother liked the vibrators, so maybe....
The unit switched on. Wynter screeched for an instant, bringing Dragon to his feet. He looked around and sniffed as he moved to the bedside and sniffed up at her, whimpering in his throat.
"It's okay, Dragon. I was just caught by surprise. Wow! Daddy, that's a nice surprise!" She realized she was giggling, but she couldn't stop.
"Just try to relax inside and then you can move it in and out and around," he said, with horniness showing in his eyes as his dick went totally erect. He licked his lips as he looked at the plastic vibrator in her pussy, and that made Wynter happy. She was pleasing her father.
After a minute she started sliding it in and out, just a little bit, to see how that felt. It was as good as when her father ate her pussy. She felt her little clitty swell until it felt like it was going to burst. And that gave her an idea. If she just pulled it out a little more, and then pulled up on the end and pushed her pussy downward....
When the vibrator touched her clitty she exploded in orgasm. It felt wonderful--almost as good as her father's tongue on that hard little stick. When she regained her senses, he was staring at her pussy and the vibrator stuck in it, humping his dick against the air. Wynter was so very sorry that he couldn't touch his hardon for relief. She bent down to kiss his aching pole, causing the vibrating plastic to press against her clitty. She came again when her lips touched his hard dick. When she opened her eyes, he was looking into them.
"We might have to get you your own vibrator," he said.
"It might help when I'm by myself," she gasped, then giggled . "It doesn't feel as big now, Daddy, like I loosened up a little. Do you want me to try the other one?"
"Yes, but carefully. It's a little bit bigger than me. You might need the lube."
Wynter shook her head. "I don't think so. I'm just so flooded with my natural lubrication. My pussy juice," she corrected.
She felt empty when she pulled it out of her tight, wet pussy. She wiped it with the wet cloth and picked up the third one. If it went in, then she would be able to take her father's erect dick. Please, please, please, she thought, let it fit!
Her father talked slowly and gently to her, relaxing her and guiding her through easing the massive piece of plastic into her hot, tight hole. It was a little uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt as she eased the tip into the mouth of her tender cunny. She twisted it and wiggled it slowly and gently. It began easing into her slender young body. The widest point was about an inch down from the tip. When it went into her, she almost cried with joy. She could take her father!
Wynter positioned the tip of his dick against her overheated hole and began pushing her body downward. "Don't be in a hurry," he reminded her for the third time. His dick was slippery in her hands. He'd insisted on her using the lubrication stuff because her pussy juice wouldn't lubricate his dick the way it had the hard, smooth plastic of the vibrator. The dildo, he'd called it. She thought that was a funny name, but right now she was too happy to laugh. She thought that was strange and told herself to describe that feeling in one of her notebooks. Then she told herself to remember to describe this sensation, too: the very tip of her father's dick had just entered her pussy, had entered her vagina.
"Take it easy, and stop when it gets uncomfortable. Give yourself time to stretch. I want the first time you make love to be something you always remember because of how good it felt, not how much it hurt during and afterward."
"Yes, Daddy," she said, feeling that warm tingly feeling shoot all throughout her body again. That was even better than cumming. It was the feeling that her father loved her with all his heart and was trying to both protect her and help her feel wonderful at the same time.
Push down slowly. Relax. Push down slowly. Relax.
Her eyes flew wide. "Daddy, I think the head just went in."
"Yes, it did," he gasped. "Don't rush it and ruin it now. Take your time and we'll be making love in a few minutes."
She felt the grin on her face and knew she couldn't remove it for a million bucks. "Daddy, I feel like I'm already making love with you."
His eyes shot up from watching his throbbing hardon going into her horny little pussy and gazed deeply into hers. "Honey, I don't think I've ever heard a sweeter compliment in my entire life. Thank you very much. I love you."
Drat! She couldn't stop her head from dipping again, but she did keep her eyes on his. "I love you, too, with all my heart." She giggled as something moved down there and shot a thrill through her body. "It feels so big, but good at the same time."
Her father smiled his warmest smile and moaned softly as she slid down another half-inch onto him. "Honey, I just hope it feels as wonderful to you as it does to me," he said. "If it hadn't been for those last two cums, I'd probably be shooting now and ruining it for you."
She giggled again, unable to control it. "Daddy, the only way you could ruin it would be to tell me to stop. If you did shoot now, I'd just keep you inside me until you got hard again."
He was looking at his big dick going into her little pussy again, but he broke into the biggest smile. It reminded her of Aunt Diane's baby Christopher's smile when she teased him with the rattle. Then she bent her head to look, too.
"That's all that's in me?" she said in surprise at the amount of his greased dick that she could still see. "It feels like there's two feet up there."
"You're doing just fine, honey." He moaned softly. "You may not get all of me in because your pussy probably isn't deep enough yet. Just keep going slowly until it hits bottom, and don't try to force any more than that into you."
"Yes, Daddy." She tingled throughout again. Her father had to be feeling as good as she did, yet he was still watching out for her, rather than taking the time to enjoy the experience. She wouldn't disappoint him. She'd be extra careful so that he wouldn't worry, and when she had all of him inside her that she could get in, she was going to see to it that he had the biggest cum she could possibly give him as a reward for his patience and his love.
Push down slowly. Relax. Push down slowly. Relax. Until....
"Daddy, I don't think I can get any more in."
His wide eyes seemed unable to lift from her pussy. "Don't try. You have almost all of it in you. More than I expected."
She couldn't see all that well because it was underneath her, so she felt to see how much was still outside, reaching behind and under her butt so that she wouldn't block his view. Maybe two inches. She giggled. "I'll just save the rest for later," she said.
He made a sad little smile under his happy face. She realized he knew that this would be their only time. Then she saw a faint change, one she'd never be able to describe in her notebook in a hundred million billion years, and she knew that they would make love again. And fuck for sport, too. "I love you, Daddy," she said softly, with all the love and caring she could put into her voice.
His eyes looked wet, like he was about to cry. He gave her the warmest smile and said in a soft voice, "I love you, too, Wynter." She hoped he had heard as much love in her voice as she heard in his. "Are you ready, or do you need to relax and stretch a little more?"
She concentrated on her pussy and the huge tube of flesh filling it. She felt it throb, just like it did in her hand, only this time it thrilled her even more, and that started her spring tightening again. "I think I'm as stretched as I can get now."
He nodded. "Okay. Slowly now for a little bit, until you get the hang of it, lift slightly and then lower back to where you are now. You may want to hurry, but you have to teach yourself to stop before you hurt yourself. We don't need both of us to be patients!"
She giggled and rubbed one hand on his chest in a caress. "I'll be careful. We can't make love or fuck if my pussy gets put in a cast." Because she was supporting her weight on her knees, the laughter that shook her father's body caused his dick to jump and shake inside of her. A thrill shot from her pussy through her entire body, and that spring tightened some more. She started raising and lowering her body on him, sending more pleasure waves out from her pussy and causing her to gasp every time she felt him stuffing her pussy full again.
Soon she was lifting until just the head remained inside her body, then lowering down to feel it slowly stretch and fill her. She couldn't believe that anything could feel better than the vibrator or her father's tongue in her split--her pussy--but this really and truly did! She concentrated for a few moments on where the limits were to keep him inside her and to keep him from going too deep within her, and then she slowly increased the speed. It made the horny feeling in her overstuffed pussy feel so very much better, but it also made it worse at the same time, causing her to move faster for more relief, on and on in an endless loop.
She heard noises as she slid her stretched little hole up and down around the rigid dick jutting up from her father's lower body. Because the horny feeling was so overwhelming she needed several moments to realize it was both her father and herself. They were both grunting and moaning and saying, "I love you" and "It feels so good!" and laughing and crying and making all sorts of sounds at once that she knew wouldn't make any sense to someone listening through a wall, but made perfect sense to her, being where she was and doing what she was doing, and now she could hear a wet sound coming from her split that was her father's thingy sliding into her through her natural lubrication as it wound a spring inside her vaginal area tighter and tighter and even still tighter yet even though it couldn't possibly get any tighter as shemovedfasterandfasterand....
She knew she screamed when the spring exploded, sending shockwaves of almost unbearable pleasure shooting through her body over and over and over and over like it would never end. She couldn't help it because it felt so wonderful and the strength of it was such a surprise because it was much bigger than any of her other orgasms, and she was vaguely aware that she might have scared her father when she screamed, and she really really really hoped that he wasn't scared, and that he was feeling as good as she was with their first time making love, and why hadn't her hips stopped moving, and what was that hot feeling deep inside her, and why was the spring getting tighter again, only it was getting tighter muchmorefasterthistimeand....
She screamed in delight again.
Richard lay gasping for breath, unable to believe he'd actually cum again. The sight of Wynter convulsing in orgasm had been too much for him, and somewhere he'd found a reserve of cum for her tender young pussy and the energy to shoot it. The Beast finally died then, though rigor mortis had apparently kept it stiff enough for her to work herself almost immediately to a second release.
He wasn't sure if she'd fallen asleep or fainted, but at least she was stretched along his body in such a way that she was in no danger of rolling off him and falling to the floor. She, too, was gasping for air. A whimper to his left told him Dragon was worried and was checking up on her. "It's okay, Dragon. She's okay, boy. Go lie down."
Okay? She was better than "okay," she was the most exciting sexual partner he'd ever experienced. He sincerely hoped that she would always remember her first time making love as a wonderful experience. And, now that he thought about it, her first fuck, too. From what she was saying while she humped him, her first orgasm occurred while she was making love, but the second one--that second one was pure, unbridled, no-holds-barred, all-for-me fucking.
He wondered why he felt tears streaming down his cheeks. It was, he realized, because he needed to hold her and couldn't. The other times he'd just wanted to hold her. This time he needed to hold her, the way he needed oxygen and water, because his life depended on her. Well, by god, he had one free leg.
Carefully, but with urgency born of need, he shifted his body, lifting and twisting his free leg until he was able to capture her left thigh between his foot and his bare right thigh. Something inside the cast on his lower right leg flared in pain, but he didn't care. He squeezed her to him in the only way he could, trying to ignore the fact that he would eventually have to release her.
Rigor mortis fled the beast then, and it oozed out of her tight, wet, wonderful little cunt with a faint "slish" noise. He wasn't totally surprised to find fresh tears on his cheeks.
He opened his eyes at the movement. Wynter was sitting up, about to swing one leg back from across his body so that she could get down from the bed.
"Oh, Daddy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up, but I was afraid I was making you uncomfortable."
"Honey, that's no problem at all. If you aren't uncomfortable, you don't have to get down. You can stay right where you are and hold me while we sleep. I'd really love that if it doesn't keep you from resting."
She grinned sleepily, a mixture of happiness and sexual satisfaction. "Okay," she said, masking a yawn with her hand. "I'll turn off the light."
"Don't. Not unless it bothers you. I don't want you to be away from me that long, even if it is only two feet away and five seconds apart. Unless you need to get up for another reason."
"Huh uh," she said. "Daddy, that's sweet. I don't want to be away from you, either." She yawned again. "But don't you want me to go wash my pussy for you? And wash off your dick?"
"Not unless it bothers you. All I want is to feel you next to me, to go to sleep that way, and to wake up that way."
She leaned forward for nose-and-lips kisses, then gently eased herself down onto him. She found a position that wasn't uncomfortable for either and wrapped her arms around him. "G'night, Daddy," she said with a squeeze.
"Goodnight, honey," he replied, feeling warm and cozy and wondering why tears were threatening to break loose again.
She snuggled her cheek against his chest, scooting it around until it was just right. "Thank you for loving me." And she was asleep.
The tears escaped again.
Bacon. Coffee. He lifted his head from the slight--no, steep--incline. Wynter had raised the head of the bed over halfway without waking him. There they were, on the breakfast tray on the rollaway bedside table, where his pills had been counted out. The urinal was on the nightstand and the vibrators weren't. Wynter had been busy while he slept.
He heard the faucet in the bathroom just as the water stopped flowing. Seconds later his naked daughter appeared, a smile of afterglow still radiating from her face. She saw him looking at her and stopped. "Drat!" she said with a sudden frown. "I was going to crawl back on top of you and let you wake up with me holding you, like you wanted."
"Honey, the important thing is that you're here with me," he said, sympathizing with her feelings. "I'd much rather wake up here alone and find that you are just over there in the bathroom than wake up in the hospital alone and find you are miles away."
Her head dropped at that, but her eyes stayed on his and she didn't blush. "Yeah, but I wanted to make you happy," she said as she placed a gentle hand on his arm cast and bent to kiss his nose. She gave him a quick daughter-type kiss on the lips and then lowered her head again to invite his tongue into her mouth.
Her mouth was sweet and fresh and tasted of spearmint. He knew how funky his own breath was and kept the kiss short. "I'm sorry my breath is so funky," he apologized. "I didn't have time to go brush my teeth for you the way you did for me."
"I'd rather kiss you with funky breath than not be able to kiss you with fresh breath," she said with a big, self-satisfied smile, followed by another daughter-peck before she turned for his pills.
He swallowed the last one. "That's a little better. Did Dragon cook them?"
"No," she said, a grin threatening to split her face in two. "I cooked them. He just brought them in fresh from the garden."
"No wonder there was an improvement," he managed to get out with a straight face before both erupted.
"You probably need this by now," she said, reaching for the urinal. "No sex! Just urination for now. Your breakfast is getting cold."
"Yes, Nurse King," he said without argument. One, the sight of the urinal had caused him to realize that he was about to explode in a hurricane of yellow, and two, he couldn't get the Beast stiff with a plaster cast this morning.
They talked while she fed the two of them. He listened while she described her joy at having made love with the man she loved most in all the whole entire world and tried to explain how it felt to have him inside her exquisite nubile body. She didn't know the words to describe some of her feelings. When, at her request, he tried to describe to her was it was like to be the one inside of her, he, too, discovered that he was ignorant of the words required.
Egg yolk dripped onto his chest. "I guess I should have scrambled the eggs," she said, rising to lick the spot of yellow from his chest while looking at him with devil-imp eyes.
He wondered if she were now devious enough to have planned the dripping yolk from the over-easy eggs. Then free association latched onto "scrambled eggs." Surely the bouncing she had done with the Beast in her nearly up to her ovaries had scrambled her own. He chuckled, and expected that he would have to explain why he was suddenly laughing at her.
Wynter, however, appeared to think she had tickled him when she licked away the egg.
"Honey," he asked as she sat down, "is your pussy sore this morning?"
Her face scrunched and her eyes went vacant for a moment, as if she were reading a bank of indicators and gauges inside her head. "No, not really," she said. "It's just a little tender." She grinned slyly. "Why? Are you ready to teach me how to fuck?"
"Another sip of coffee, please? No, you already know how to do that."
She hesitated as she lifted the insulated coffee mug with the bent straw. "But we didn't fuck; we made love," she said.
"The first time, yes," he agreed. "But the second time you came, it was from fucking. Plain old ordinary, 'I need my brains screwed out' fucking, and that was a sight to see. Could you move the straw a little closer to my mouth? My lips aren't six inches long."
She blinked as she returned from wherever she'd been and moved the straw to his reach. "Second time?"
He grunted acknowledgement, and when he swallowed he added, "You came twice, you know."
"I did?" Richard understood the phrase "eyes as big as twin full moons" at that moment.
"Oh, yes. Very definitely."
Her eyes unfocused as she replayed the recorded scene in her head. "I guess I did. Oh!" Mother Hen made a sudden appearance. "Daddy, I'm sorry! I totally forgot about you then!"
He made a face. "Do I have to call class back into session again? Wynter?"
Instead of laughing she made a wry smile. "Present."
"There's a reason that making love and fucking have different names: they are different activities. Making love is what we did the first time. It's when two people share love and tenderness with each other through their bodies. Making love is sharing. Fucking is when one or both of the people need sex for its own sake. Fucking is selfish, but that's okay because it's supposed to be selfish. You really needed to cum again, and I helped you. Sometimes one partner has a need to fuck and the other has a need to make love. Usually the partner with the need to make love will defer, knowing that they can make love later when the first partner is relaxed and can concentrate on both of them. I call it instant gratification and future satisfaction. Clear so far, my little student?"
"Yes, teacher," she said, offering him another bite, which he chewed and swallowed.
"Now, a question for the class: can one person make love while the other fucks?"
The silence grew long while she turned the question over in her head. She wasn't about to repeat the answer he'd given her without first coming to that conclusion on her own. Finally: "Yes. That second time--I was fucking, but you were still making love," she said with a little smile of triumph on her face.
"But you barely remember there was a second time. How do you know I was making love while you were fucking?"
She already knew that answer. As she fed him another bite she said, "Because you were watching me cum. You were sharing my experience instead of being selfish and just paying attention to yourself. You remembered what it was like to watch me. And you also just said that you helped me cum again."
She bit off a piece of buttered and jellied toast and chewed with a look of silent self-satisfaction.
Richard blinked twice and turned his head toward the door. "Dragon!" The shiny black head sprang up, instantly alert. "It's official: you are no longer the brains of the family."
It wasn't until she was putting the dishes in the dishwasher that he realized she'd brought only one knife and fork.
Wynter was sorry that her father couldn't get another hardon, but he told her that in a way it was a good thing. He was sure that as much as she was stretched and as hard as she had fucked him--she had fucked him? Well, that made sense if you thought about it--she was probably more than "just a little tender" down there, and if they fucked, or even made love again, she might experience more damage and it might be painful.
"We might have to put your pussy in a cast," he explained as she finished shaving him, "and then you'd need Doctor Taylor to give you a pussy stretcher."
She was proud of herself for catching the joke, and the look in his eyes said he was both surprised and proud of her, too.
"But Doctor Richard has a prescription for you, Nurse King."
She put the razor on the table and crossed her arms under her tits, lifting them slightly and watching his eyes go to them. She lowered her head and looked at him from under the bottom of a frown. "What?"
"Doctor Richard prescribes that you have somebody kiss it and make it feel better."
She fought to hold back a grin. "Well, I don't see anyone else here, Doctor Richard, so I guess you'll just have to treat me yourself."
He broke into his own wicked grin, and she couldn't hold back. "Trust me," he said, "it will be a treat."
Wynter tried to suck her father's dick back to an erection, but this time he was right: it was so dead it was beyond rigor mortis. Still, the excitement of having his dick in her mouth again while his tongue did wonderful things to her pussy was enough to cause the spring to wind supertight before it exploded. Her father had told her that there were little cums and big cums and giant super-sized cums. She sure did hope that these were the giant super-sized ones, because if they were just the big ones, she'd never survive anything larger.
Three o'clock. Richard was clean and dressed in a hospital gown rather than the pajamas Angie had wanted him to wear for whatever reason. Lunch was over. The room was clean and smelled lightly of cinnamon air freshener. The sleeping bag was gone. Wynter was dressed for the first time in what seemed like years. Richard watched as she turned a slow circle for his inspection and then asked, "Well?"
"You look beautiful," he said, "but I think I like your birthday suit better."
Again her head went down at the compliment, and she seemed to suddenly have trouble keeping her eyes on his again, as if returning to girl's loose blouse, knit shorts, white ankle socks, and slippers had returned her to her earlier girl's mind set. "Thank you," she whispered, then louder added, "I'll let you see my birthday suit every chance I get."
"Kiss?"
Nose-and-lips daughter-kiss.
"Lover's kiss?"
He was exploring her mouth for the third time, his eyes closed, when he noticed the salty wetness. He opened his eyes, broke off the kiss, and pulled back into his pillow. She raised her head and released her ponytail, freeing that hand to wipe her wet cheeks. Her other hand continued to smooth his hair.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
She sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm being selfish. You want a nice lover's kiss to remember, and I'm ruining it."
He smiled gently. "You're avoiding the question, honey."
She sniffed again and chased down another escaping tear. "I'm just getting to know about sex, and now I have to give it up. I know you said we'd find time after Mother returns, but Nurse Carter will still be here then, until you can get out of bed. It's going to be a long time before I can show you--before we can show each other--how much we love each other."
"You are wrong, my favorite student who didn't pay full attention to her lessons. You are very wrong. We may not be able to have any sexual contact for a little while, but you are showing me how much you love me right now. Just like you've always done."
"Yes, but," she said, pausing to wipe a cheek and her nose again, "I want to show you like a grownup, not like a child."
"Honey, you've missed part of the lesson somewhere, probably because I concentrated too much on the other part. Sex may be a 'grownup' way to show love, but non-sex doesn't mean 'non-grownup.' How many different ways do your mother and I show that we love each other without going at it on the kitchen table or living room floor? A kiss on the nose from you is one of the most wonderful things in the world because it shows me you love me. Nobody else loves me that way. Well, except Dragon, sometimes, but it's definitely not the same."
Her mouth corners curled upward slightly, and her body trembled once with a silent laugh.
His eyes lifted upward to indicate her right hand. "You pet my hair, you hold my arm through the cast, you smile at me in a way that I've never seen you smile at anyone else, you do the best job possible as my nurse, you feed me, you play your flute for me even though you want to shoot me for asking...."
"Daddy! No I don't!"
"Ah, ah! Don't fib or I'll have to turn you over my knee."
She grinned suddenly. "Want me to take off my shorts and underpants?"
Richard pulled his head deeper into the pillow and looked at the ceiling. "I actually lived long enough to hear Wynter King ask a dumb question!" He brought his eyes to hers in an eloquent leer. "Of course I do! But Ellen and Kevin could walk in any minute now. I'll make your mother understand, but I could never get them to."
"Can I do one thing just for you before they get here?"
He lifted one eyebrow. "What?"
She pulled the hem of her blouse up to her armpits and thrust a tiny pink cone at his mouth.
"Nurse King, would you escort me to the door?"
Wynter's head dropped. "Sure, Doctor Taylor." She waited until he said his goodbyes. Nurse Carter acted like she was going to come with them, but Doctor Taylor did something with his hand and she changed her mind. Only Dragon accompanied them. Doctor Taylor stopped her in the living room and asked if they could talk for a moment. They sat together on the overstuffed couch.
"First of all," Doctor Taylor said, looking her straight in the eye the way she saw him talk to Nurse Carter, "you did a very excellent and professional job while Nurse Carter was away. Wait a minute--a nurse doesn't look away when a doctor compliments her professionalism." He pointed to his eyes. "You continue to look right here, okay?"
Drat! She had acted like a child when he'd just told her she'd been acting like a responsible grownup. "Okay."
He broke out in the biggest grin. Doctor Taylor sometimes was grumpy with other people, and sometimes even with kids, but with her he was always the nicest person she'd ever met. Except for her father. And her mother, of course. If she ever had to pick somebody else to be her father, she'd choose Doctor Taylor.
"Now! You did an excellent job with his records. They were neat, orderly, and precise." He was leaning toward her and tapping his left index finger with his right to indicate his points, the way he discussed patients with nurses and other doctors, and that made her tingle inside. "I had no trouble following them. Those extra comments you made were a perfect touch. I felt like I had been present at the time and observed him myself. Ellen is right: you are a natural nurse."
"Thank you," she whispered, using all her willpower to force her head to stay upright.
"Don't thank me, it's the truth!" His voice snapped, but she saw the sparkle in his eyes and knew he was playing with her. "I have nothing against nurses, and I know you'll be the best in the state, if not in the whole country, but you'd make a damned fine doctor, and I really do hope you will consider medical school. Of course, you'll have to learn to scrawl so nobody can read your writing. But you still have plenty of time to think about it."
She grinned at him. "Only if you forgive me."
His eyes grew wide and he drew himself upright on the couch. He jabbed an index finger at her nose. "Never!"
Doctor Taylor always said he'd never forgive her for deciding to be born at home early, during a winter storm that had closed the mountain road, thus depriving him of the honor of being the first person to ever see her. Wynter had thought that he teased other kids that way until Nurse Carter told her that she was the only one.
He bounced his fingertip off her nose and said in a serious tone, "Listen, I'm still worried about Richard's hands. I let him talk me into leaving his right fingers free and two fingers on his left hand, but you have to be sure that he doesn't try to do too much with them. Understand?"
Wynter nodded. "I understand. You think it might interfere with his--uh--range of motion?"
Doctor Taylor gave her a warm smile that was the next best thing to one from her father. "Exactly. There's not much he can do with his arms still in the casts, but he might try and overdo something. Did you hear me say that I'll take the leg cast off next week if he continues to make the same progress?"
Wynter nodded again. "Yes." Doctor Taylor always treated her like she was a nurse, but this time there was something different in his voice and manner. She wondered if, just maybe, that was the way he treated other doctors.
"Good." He rose and offered her a hand in assistance. Doctor Taylor was the person she always thought of when she heard the word, "Gentleman." She felt guilty that she didn't think of her father instead, but she couldn't help herself. He bowed crisply from the waist and said, "Then I shall bid you good day, Nurse and/or Doctor King."
She threw her arms around him and squeezed.
"Oh, my goodness! My diagnosis was wrong!"
Wynter looked up at him and frowned. She knew he was playing, but she had no idea what the meant. "What diagnosis?"
"I thought you were too grown up to hug." He dropped down, wrapped his arms around her, and squeezed. It felt almost as good as a hug from Daddy and Mother and Grandpa King and a lot better than one from Aunt Diane or Uncle Bob. When he rose again he said, "You keep on taking good care of our patient." And then he was gone.
The low voices from her father's sick room sounded angry as she approached the door. The fur between Dragon's shoulders suddenly bristled at the tone. Nurse Carter had her back to the door as Wynter entered the room. Her father was lying back and looking at the ceiling.
"Daddy? Nurse Carter? Is something wrong?"
"Something is very wrong, Wynter," Nurse Carter said, slowly turning to face her. "Your father can't seem to explain these." She held out her hands. One hand held the smallest vibrator. Pinched between the thumb and forefinger of the other hand were three short, thin, cornsilk curls.
© Russell Hoisington 2003
Continued in Wynter 3: Mother's Little Helper