Her eyes are just as beautiful as her mother's. She is her mother’s daughter, only twenty-five years younger. Tears roll down her cheeks as she goes about cleaning the kitchen. Stopping in front of the sink, she grasps the counter with both hands and gazes out the window.
I’m her father, and I wish I could say something to bring her comfort. However, I cannot seem to find the words. It was two years ago today that my wife, and her mother, suddenly passed. One encouraging thing has occurred since her mother’s passing. The bond between us has grown strong.
She releases the counter and begins to turn toward me as she says, “Dad.”
Looking up, I answer, “Yes.”
“Are you ever going to date again?”
Not wanting to have this conversation, I stand and begin to walk away.
Slamming her hands against the countertop, she shouts, “Damn it Dad, do not walk out on me.”
To have an outburst like this is uncommon for her, and it takes me by surprise. Turning toward her, I internally question why she’s so upset. Standing motionless, I stare into her eyes, and begin to understand. Her facial expression doesn’t express hurt. It expresses uncertainty and concern.
“Dad, this is my last year in college and I’ll need to move on when I graduate. I’m not meaning to sound disrespectful, ungrateful or anything like that, but I can’t go forward if you don’t.”
Her statement cuts deep and leaves me speechless for a moment. Taking time to gather my thoughts, I reply, “Sara, I am moving forward. It may be slow, but I’m making progress.”
She walks around the bar and has a seat. Tapping the stool beside her she says, “Take a load off, Dad.”
As I lower myself onto the stool, she says, “Dad, you need to date.”
Without thinking I reply, “No Sara, I do not. And how am I preventing you from moving on?”
“Because I worry about you, and I want you to be happy and cared for.”
“Honey, I'm forty-six years old. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“You can cook, clean and do laundry. However, that is not what I am talking about.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
She looks straight into my eyes when she asks, “When was the last time you had sex, Dad?”
Sara has always been blunt. Sometimes her bluntness fits the situation and other times it doesn’t. I consider this to be one of those other times. Even though, I continue to ponder her question, and become a bit uncomfortable, so I choose to sit in silence.
“Oh come on Dad, I’m twenty-three years old. You can talk to me.”
“Do you truly want to have this conversation?”
“Okay then, it’s been a little over two years.”
“I figured as much. Don’t you think it’s time to release some anxiety?”
Conversing about my sex life with my daughter is not something I’m comfortable with. However, she is an adult, and she’s not going to drop it. Therefore, after giving it a little thought I respond, “I don’t have anxiety.”
Sara doesn’t blink when she responds, “Jacking off and fucking someone is completely different, Dad.”
Although I understand her point, the end result is the same. Twisting the chair toward her I ask, “So, I see we’re going to be candid and to the point in this conversation?”
“I am and I hope you will be. Besides, would you expect anything less?”
“Then talk to me.”
“Okay, let’s talk.”
She smiles as she looks at me and says, “In all honesty Dad, I believe getting you laid would be beneficial.”
She reaches and takes my hand. “Dad, I know you loved Mom. I know you miss her. I understand my loss is different than yours. However, we are still on this earth, and life has to go on.”
“Honestly Sara, I do miss her. However, my life has not stopped. I get up every day. Go to the office. Pay the bills. I’m still living.”
“No dad, you’re going through the motions. If you were living, you would get out and about. You would have a woman in your life. You would be full of life. You’re none of that, Dad. You go to the office, come home, eat, and go to bed.”
“Sara, as for another woman, I don’t want to love someone in that way. I gave my love to your mother and it died with her. I--”
She cuts me off. “I am not saying to go out and fall in love, Dad. I’m talking about getting laid, you know having physical contact with a female body. Do you not desire to have a woman suck your cock again? To see a beautiful woman mount your manhood, and ride it for all she is worth? Do you not have a desire to thrust your cock deep inside a wanting and welcoming pussy? Do you miss any of this, Daddy?”
Damn, even though those words came from my daughter's mouth, I have to admit that does sound nice. Before I know it, I’m envisioning the scene in my mind. I see a beautiful body leaning across my upper torso, erect nipples attached to small breast hanging inches from my mouth. As she rises up, I can feel soft hands pressing against my shoulders. I can feel the sensation of hips slowly rocking back and forth in rhythm, rising to show my shaft glistening in juices, then dropping to engulf my entire length again.
“Hello, Hello. You okay, Dad?”
“Sorry Sara, I guess I zoned out for a minute.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking about what you said. To be honest, I was visualizing it in my mind.”
“So you do have desires?”
“Of course I do. However, I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer these days.”
“I think you underestimate yourself, Dad. I mean you are a sweet man and besides…” She stops talking.
This is a first; she has never stopped talking. Looking at her, I begin to laugh. I think she has embarrassed herself. Deciding to take advantage of her awkward predicament I ask, “Besides what?”
“No Sara, we are talking. You started this conversation so continue.”
She shifts her body and leans against the bar. “I could hear you and Mom at night you know.”
“And this embarrasses you?”
“Then why are you embarrassed?”
She looks at me, tapping her fingers on the counter. “You really want me to answer?”
“Of course I do.”
She takes a moment, apparently to gather her thoughts. “Well, most nights, the two of you gave me orgasms. I could hear the rhythm of the bed, the sounds of moaning. The first time it happened was the night of my seventeenth birthday. I was lying in bed listening. I could hear Mom moaning. The bed was not squeaking, so I assumed you were sucking her pussy. After she cried out from her orgasm, there were several minutes of silence. During this time, I started to rub my pussy. Once I heard the bed, I positioned myself and fantasized there was a man between my legs. And I masturbated to the rhythm the two of you had. With two fingers going in and out of my pussy, I rubbed my clit with my others. I rocked and bucked my hips, pushing and pulling my fingers in rhythm with you and mom. I had my very first orgasm that night. And to be honest I had three more before the two of you finished."
Listening to my daughter describe her masturbating session causes my cock to become half hard. Except for a few of my own masturbation sessions, the old guy hasn’t been used much in the past two years, and it doesn’t take much to wake him up. In fact, at times I feel like a young kid again. A good stiff wind and my cock gets excited.
Not knowing how to respond, I glance across the room as I search for something to say. Glancing at her, I say, “Look, I don’t know if I should be embarrassed or proud. However, how does this give you the confidence to state that I am underestimating myself? Seriously, let’s face the facts. I'm overweight. My age is showing, and I work all the time.”
“First off, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. And yes, you should be proud. Not because you and Mom helped me have orgasms, but because you could give them to her. And considering we are being open and all. I’ve yet to have an orgasm with a male partner.”
“Are you saying you’re still a virgin?”
“No, I’m saying that I haven’t had a male partner good enough to give me an orgasm. And I do mean zero orgasms, not by mouth, hand, or cock.”
“Now, the reason I think you have a lot to offer is because you do. Yes, you work all the time. However, that’s only because you have no life. Yes, you’re a little over weight. And yes, your age is showing, but don’t consider that a bad thing. Listen to me Dad, many young women today want a real man. Hell I want a real man. I’m tired of hanging with boys who will not get a job, and don’t care if they sexually please the girl they are with. Hell, Dad, all Johnny wants to do is get off and move on to other things. I mean seriously, I’m twenty-three years old, and my pussy doesn’t take a lot to get wet but with him, I have to use lube. It’s a waste of time and money. From the first kiss, we’re finished in about five minutes. All he wants to do is mount me, stroke his cock in and out of my pussy fifteen maybe twenty times, pull out, and shoot his cum on my stomach. He doesn’t even want me to suck his cock. Now, I know I haven’t mastered the art of cock sucking, but I love doing it, and I know for a fact I’m getting better.”
Noticing that she’s getting mad, I begin to laugh as I say, “Hell honey, it doesn’t matter if you’re good at it or not. I’ve always believed even if it’s bad, at least I’m getting my cock sucked.”
“Seriously Dad, that’s what you got from what I said?”
“No, what I took from it is this: you need to walk away from him and find someone else. You need someone that will love you and want to do everything possible to please you in every way. I’m not speaking just about sex, Sara. You need someone to take care of you. To love you. To grow with you.”
“And Dad, that’s what I want for you. That’s the purpose of this conversation.”
“Damn it Sara, do you mean to tell me that’s what this was about? You fed me a bunch of bullshit just to make me realize your point?”
“Yes and no. This entire conversation has been about that one point. However, everything I said is true. From every one of Mom's oh my gods, fasters, and fuck me harders, to Johnny not wanting me to suck his cock. Now allow me to get you laid. I have a friend who will be the perfect person.”
“So you have been planning this, have you?”
“Yes, and she’s really looking forward to it.”
“Oh she is? May I ask who she is?”
“Of course, it’s Kim.”
“Come on Dad, Kim. You know, my best friend since like the second grade.”
Wow, I didn’t see that coming. Through the years, I’ve fantasized about her. Kimberly is tall. I'm guessing around five feet ten inches. She’s a natural redhead, has a great ass, at least 34C breasts, and legs that go for days.
When she and Sara would sunbathe around the pool, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. When lying on her back, her pussy mound would bulge upward. And after taking a dip into the pool, her yellow swimsuit was pretty much transparent. Her hard nipples were clearly visible as they poked through the scanty fabric. I would slowly work my eyes over her body as she stood wringing water from her hair and allowing water to drip from her body. There was always a neatly trimmed bush visible through the small patch of fabric that attempted to cover her pussy. My cock would get rock hard, and I would daydream about her being completely naked.
And now, I’m going to see her, taste her, and smell her from head to toe. Wow. I look toward Sara and ask, “Are you serious?”
“Yup, she’s wanted to fuck you since the eleventh grade. If you recall, she was here all the time, spending the night and such. We would lie in bed and masturbate each other while we listened to you and Mom. The first time she heard the two of you, she didn’t masturbate. She just watched me and listened. When the two of you were finished she leaned over, kissed me softly on the mouth and said, 'I know he’s your dad and all, but I want to fuck him.' I giggled and said, 'So do I!'”
Deciding to ignore the comment about my daughter wanting to fuck me I say, “I had no idea. Did you say you would masturbate each other? Don’t take this wrong, but damn Sara, that’s fucking hot.”
“Yes Dad, we masturbated each other. And now you know. We are not lesbians, however, we are very acquainted with one another’s bodies. Now are you willing to give it a try or not?”
“What exactly is it?”
“Let me be a little blunter dad, she wants to fuck you. You don’t have to work for it. You don’t have to smooze her. It’s guaranteed. Now are you willing to fuck her or not?”
“Are you okay with it? I mean she’s your friend and I’m your dad.”
“I am more than okay with it, Dad. I love you both and want you to be happy.”
“With that being said, yes, I am willing to give it a try.”
“Good, she is coming by later. I hope you don’t mind, but I have nothing to do tonight, so I’ll be in my bedroom listening and most likely masturbating. Is that okay?”
“Damn, Sara, I think I’ll be under enough pressure without knowing that. However, if that’s the way you want it, I’m okay with it if you are.”
“There shouldn’t be any pressure. It’s like riding a horse. The saddle may smack you in the ass a few times. But you’ll find your rhythm and hit your stride. And Dad, trust me, I am fine with it!”
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/taboo/sara-and-her-dad-saras-determination.aspx">Sara and Her Dad: Sara’s Determination, Chapter One</a>