(Author's Note: Howdy all! This one has more story than sex, so it isn't a quick wank job for ya. But work through it if you can, there's a pretty good payoff towards the end. This is part 1 of 3. Thank you for checking out my tale.)
Today was shaping up to be like most any other Thursday; pretty boring. My daughter Alice turned 21 today and, despite promising me that she and I would go get her first legal cocktail together, she was going out after work with her new friends from the law firm where she just started interning a month ago.
Since it was about 4:30 in the afternoon, I figured my wife Suzie had cracked open that new box of chardonnay by now. Yeah, I know. Wine in a box. At least it’s cheap that way, like a volume discount. And the way she drinks it, that’s a good thing. I didn’t want to go home and hear her bitch and moan about the good old days and how our baby girl is all grown up and whatever else pops into her little head.
Without going into the 30 years of history that the wife and I have together, let’s just say that the romance is gone. And the fun is gone. And the sex is gone. So what’s left? Just the ‘going through the motions’ part? That seems to be enough for her, but it isn’t for me. I’ve already consulted a lawyer to get the ball rolling. I don’t have that many good years left! 52 is the new 40, or at least that’s what I tell myself. I look pretty good, people think I’m my early forties. Still, have my hair, and it isn’t gray. Didn’t get fat like most everyone else, either. My wife may have dried up after menopause, but my dick is still active. Well, mostly, anyway! I’ve got the blue pill when necessary.
So I called Suzie and said I had to work late. And I did work late. That wasn’t a euphemism for sneaking around with another lady. I just wanted to work until about 8:00 p.m. or so. Suzie usually had half a box of wine by then and would be passed out in the bed.
Got home and ate the stew that she left me in the fridge, and thought, ‘What the hell. I’ll try some of that box wine.’ I promptly ran to the sink to spit it out. God, is it just me or is it really vinegar? How can she drink this stuff? I went and got myself a bottle of Justin from my wine chiller, which I keep set at 58 degrees for the reds. It’s a little cooler than maybe it should be, but that’s how I like it. I checked the box wine again, I know it was a new one, and it felt half empty. That’s maybe 2 liters gone! Almost three bottles. Christ.
I went upstairs and sure enough, the TV was on and Suzie was zonked out. I covered her up and went into our master bathroom suite to take a shower and perform my man-maintenance. Trimmed up the nose hairs, ear hairs, eyebrows, and the dick area. Why would someone who hasn’t slept with his wife in over a year care about his genital hair? Because I was going to see Jaylene tomorrow, she’s my masseuse. Well, she started off as my masseuse, giving me what’s known as “sensual massages”. But after a couple of those, we progressed to full sex! $220 an hour for a blowjob, titty fuck, and to cum inside her. She says she doesn’t do this with any of her other customers. I pretend to believe her.
Checked my email, checked my “other” email to see if any sexy ladies had written me from a couple of the porn story sites (they hadn’t) and finally shut down at about ten and drifted off to sleep.
= = =
I dreamed that I was in a Hollywood movie and that I was the star of the movie. This really blew my mind! And just when it was getting interesting, this mysterious movie lady grabbed and pulled my arm and told me to wake up. She seemed pretty anxious about it.
I did wake up, and a lady was pulling on my arm, telling me to “Wake up, Mr. Jansen. Wake up!” In those first fuzzy seconds of awareness, I couldn’t wrap my mind around what was happening. Some chick I didn’t know was in my bedroom. Finally awake, I began thinking of how I was going to push her back and get my shotgun from under the bed and get some answers.
Fortunately for her, she quickly said, “Your daughter needs help!”
I jumped up out of bed, knocking over the glass of water on my nightstand. Shit!
“What’s happening! Is she hurt? Where is she!” I couldn’t talk fast enough, or get answers fast enough.
“No,” answered this chick. “She’s not hurt. She’s just drunk downstairs in the Uber.”
Oh, okay. I calmed down a little and turned on the lamp by my bedside. I realized that I was just in my boxers and nothing else. I pushed past this mystery girl and grabbed a T-shirt from my drawer. I also began to notice that this girl/chick/woman was hot. And I mean smokin’ hot. She’s the kind of girl that not only turns heads when she walks into a room, she gets the blood flowing to the nether regions. Immediately.
Oh yeah, And she seemed drunk, too. Her business attire of medium length dark skirt, white blouse, and dark blazer were all somewhat askew; blouse partially unbuttoned and untucked here and there, skirt seemed torn, and her blonde hair was a bit messy.
I glanced at my darling wife, still asleep. She could sleep through a 9.0 earthquake at this point, I think.
“Take me to her,” I ordered this chick. She giggled and grabbed my hand and led me downstairs.
“Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m Melanie! Melanie Johnnsson. And you need a hundred dollars for the (hic) ...puke.”
Her “esses” slurred a bit. Then I recognized the name.
“From the firm? ‘Iron Balls’ Johnson?”
She giggled again.
“The one and (hic)... Only!”
Fuck, she had a pretty smile.
I’ve heard my daughter tell tales of this one, and none of them were good. She was the ball-buster of the office. Great lawyer, apparently, but very tough on the interns. But never mind about that. I grabbed my wallet from the kitchen and we went outside.
My daughter was sprawled out in the backseat of this Prius. The Uber driver stood there with his arms crossed, he looked pissed.
“I need a hundred bucks to clean up this puke! And I want cash!”
I flung my wallet to the lovely-but-drunken Ms Johnson and said: “Pay the man.”
The car reeked. I don’t need to describe it, it was awful. Most of it was on the floor of the car, but some was on my Alice. I tugged and pulled and finally got her in a position where I could pick her up. Alice is a little bitty thing, just five foot three and about a buck-ten or so. But still, that’s dead weight that’s just flopping all over the place.
I headed towards the front door, but it was shut! And Melanie was still talking to the driver!
“Hey! Lawyer chick! Quit deposing the witness and get over here!”
Alice stirred from all my yelling.
“Is that you, Daddy?” She said this in such a sweet little sing-song drunk voice. Poor little thing.
“Stand still, Daddy.”
We weren’t moving at all, I was still waiting for Melanie to get her drunk ass over here.
“Daddy?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“Yes, little punkins?”
“I need to, I have to... “ and she paused for a few seconds.
Then in her sweet little sing-song voice again, said, “Uh-oh!”
It would’ve been cute if my left arm that was supporting her thighs didn’t suddenly feel wet and warm. Thanks, honey. Seemed like she hadn’t peed in about a week.
Melanie sauntered over and finally opened the door, but I waited until Alice’s tank ran dry. Then I carried her to the laundry room.
“Melanie, help me… no, you hold her… oh shit, let me hold her… no that won’t work...”
We struggled with balancing Alice on the washing machine and getting her skirt and blouse off. I couldn’t help but notice a couple things. One, my daughter had some very racy and skimpy underwear on and I’m NOT supposed to notice that, but I couldn’t help it. And the second thing was that Melanie had very lovely breasts that kept banging into me as we fiddled with the soiled clothes. Little Mr. Jansen noticed those things also, much to my dismay.
I picked up Alice again. I had to get her to bed, but not with her smelling like this, and there were some pieces in her hair, too. She needed a shower. As I began thinking about the logistics of that maneuver, Melanie doffed her blazer and started unbuttoning the last few buttons of her blouse.
“Uh… what are you doing, counselor?”
She smiled at me as she pulled her blouse back and off her shoulders and arms. She stood for a moment in her black bra and skirt.
Good fucking God! What a nice rack! A full C, or probably a D. My wife is like an A Minus so I’m not good at judging bra sizes. Let’s just say D, for argument’s sake.
“I’ve got barf on me, too!” And she removed her skirt. Which revealed a black G-string. And it was a tiny G-string. I saw absolutely no hint of any Iron Balls. What a body!
I stood there holding my daughter in my arms, transfixed by this Melanie person. I think my brain ceased functioning for a full ten seconds. Hands on her hips, she tilted her head to one side so her gorgeous blonde hair fell farther down one breast than the other, which was good because then I could at least stare fully at the one unobstructed magnificent breast.
“Hey!” Melanie snapped me out of my trance. “What’s next? A shower? I’ll grab her purse.”
“Um, yeah,” I said as I headed for the stairs. “Can you help me with that?”
Melanie nodded and giggled.
I got to the upstairs bathroom but, no good. It’s just a shower bath, and I thought that I couldn’t just lay her in there. That would be nasty. Plus I wasn’t sure I could get her up out of there.
I looked at Melanie and told her to shush, to which she giggled in response, and we headed towards my master bedroom.
Suzie hadn’t moved a muscle, thank goodness. Although she would have been a big help right now, she also would have been yelling and crying, and nobody needed that. Fortunately, the bathroom suite had a door on it. I whispered to Melanie to close it, which she did. But only after some over-done drunken tip-toeing. Then she burst into laughter. I shook my head.
“Come on! Get the water going!”
Our shower has a large sprinkler-type head that pours straight down from overhead. It puts out a lot of water. It’s on a swing-arm so you can push it over to the corner if you don’t want it right over the middle. Additionally, we had one of those hand-held pulsating massage shower heads on a silver flexible hose. Melanie went to the shower and bent over the knobs.
As she faced away from me, I saw her black G-string disappear in the cleft between her butt cheeks. And those cheeks were perfect. No marks, no pimples, just impossibly smooth, tanned skin. She must sunbathe in the nude. And in the place where of a tramp stamp normally goes, she had… hands praying? What does that mean? And she had some Chinese or Japanese characters tattooed above the hands. I thought she looked incredible. My dick thought so, too. Despite my aching back from carting around my catatonic daughter, my cock decided to make an appearance.
Melanie stepped back and seemed to be very pleased with herself for being such a good helper. I told her to push the overhead shower out of the way so I wouldn’t get sopping wet, which she did.
Then, Melanie decided that she didn’t need her under things anymore. She hooked her thumbs under the G-string and pulled it down past her feet, stepping out daintily. She stood back up and tossed her blonde hair back overhead. I don’t know if the carpet matched the drapes; there was no carpet. Completely bare. And possibly aroused, her lips seemed a bit swollen. I thought about kissing those lips...
She giggled some more as she undid her bra and let it drop to the floor. Breathtaking, and definitely ‘D’; I’ve seen enough porn to be sure. Speaking of porn, sometimes you see a gal with large breasts and tiny nipples, or small breasts and weird nipples. None of that was happening here. Melanie’s full breasts sloped down to luscious globes, capped by perfect nipples. No tan lines marred her perfect sun-kissed skin. Her pink areolas were a good three inches across, and her hard nipples protruded proudly from the center. I felt completely out of my element here, staring at the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen in my life. Melanie chuckled at me, and lasciviously nibbled her own finger. Her glorious, pendulous breasts shook and trembled.
I stood there holding my daughter, dumbfounded, just staring at Melanie for the second time in less than five minutes. My cock had worked its way out of the slit in my boxers and stabbed Alice in the kidney. That shouldn’t happen.
Fatigue set in, I had to set my daughter down. I brushed past Melanie and carefully set her down on the built-in seat in the corner of the shower enclosure. As the hot water sprinkled on me a little bit and part of Alice, her limp body started to slide, the only way I could hold her up was to push against her chest, which I did. I had to. It wasn’t my fault.
I tried not to think about where my hand was. I really, really tried. I called for Melanie to come and help me. And she didn’t help at all.
What she did, though, was kneel kind of behind and beside me. That way she could lean her exquisite breasts against my back and side. Like I said, not helping.
Melanie then slipped past me and reached for Alice’s tiny underpants and started tugging them off.
“Wait!” I cried out. “What are you doing?”
“Silly! She can’t sleep in these wet things!”
Right. Of course she can’t. What was I thinking? I’ll tell you what I was thinking. No! I won’t tell you that. This was my daughter. This was not a sexual situation. She was sick and needed my help. I can’t betray her! What kind of a sick fuck am I?
I lowered my head down so I wouldn’t see anything, but still had my hands on her chest to maintain her upright position. I helped Melanie shift Alice’s weight so we could remove her panties.
“The bra, too, Daddy-oh!” Melanie seemed awfully cheerful about this whole situation. “And uh, nice hard-on you got there! Is that for her or me?”
I just shook my head, I didn’t have a free hand yet to try and put my cock back inside my boxers. I let Alice tip forward a bit so Melanie could unhook the back of Alice’s bra. Fuck.
“Okay,” I said to Melanie. “You take it from here. I’m going to go get you guys some dry clothes.”
Melanie propped up Alice as I let go and quickly turned my head to get out of there.
Except there was a fleeting glimpse. A flash. Just a moment, really. But I’m sure I saw this lovely, pink, gumdrop-shaped nipple. Just out of the corner of my eye. This nipple was at the tip of Alice’s delicate but delicious-looking breast.
I moved the shower head over them so they both got sprayed as Melanie rubbed and scrubbed Alice, then I stepped back into my bedroom and shut the bathroom door. I was fairly wet by now, too, but forgot a towel. Fuck it, I thought, and I tucked my rager back in my boxers. I went to Alice’s messy room and found two pairs of sweat shorts and a couple of T-shirts.
As I walked back into my room, I checked that Suzie was asleep. Dead to the world, just like her daughter.
Suddenly, a loud booming, crashing sound rang out from the bathroom. The kind of sound one makes when they fall in the tub. What the fuck happened?
I ran into the bathroom to see that Melanie had slipped back off her feet and had fallen back onto her butt. However, she took Alice with her, as now my daughter lay face down on Melanie’s chest.
“Goddammit is she alright? Are you alright?”
Melanie nodded and laughed. I told her to hush up, to which she quieted for a moment and tried to look scared, but then she only laughed more. Damn drunks! My house is full of drunken women!
I turned off the water but got soaked in doing so. They must have gotten most of the gunk off by now.
“Hey look!” Melanie touted. “She’s almost sucking my tit! You want my tit, sweetheart?”
Melanie grabbed her left boob and placed it on my daughter’s face, rubbing her glorious, rigid nipple over Alice’s lips.
“Knock it off!” I harsh-whispered to Melanie. She laughed, of course.
I grabbed a towel and laid it over my daughter’s back. I glared at Melanie as I tried to pat my daughter’s back down. Melanie tried to be quiet, but she could only hold still for a few moments before bursting out in giggles again.
My thinking at this point was that I needed to get Alice up and sit her down in Suzie’s makeup chair at the bathroom vanity counter. Then we can blow-dry her hair and get her to bed and this horrible, awful, yet cock-hardening experience can be over with.
As the poor Hebrew slaves must have said to the Egyptian pyramid designers, “Easier said than done.”
I couldn’t figure out how to get Alice up. I couldn’t really roll her over and pick her up like normal because, well, that would just break all of the rules to hold my naked daughter in my arms. I couldn’t pick her up by her stomach because that would induce more puking.
Oh well, there’s nothing for it. I forced my hands under her so they were at her chest. Her… soft chest… Fuck! Anyway, I lifted her somewhat upright, then slid one arm under her bum and hoisted her up. Yes, her naked bum.
I staggered over to the chair and sat her in it. I looked pleadingly over at Melanie who seemed to grasp the situation. She rose up fully and walked over to me. As a reminder, she is completely naked and wet at this point. I could see that she didn’t have a single hair anywhere on her body except her head. She grabbed some towels off the rack and started rubbing myself and Alice down.
At this point, I could only hold up Alice by kneeling behind the chair she sat in and supporting her with my right arm and hand across her chest. Her head lolled forward too much, so I used my left hand to try and hold it more upright. My right hand, or more specifically, my right pinky finger, seemed to be dangerously close to Alice’s nipple.
Now, if there was a video replay, the referees might argue that my pinky finger seemed to move slightly in a back and forth rhythmic fashion, which would cause severe stimulation to that poor nipple. I would argue that if there was any movement of said pinky, that it was involuntary movement caused by Melanie drying us off with towels. I would argue that all fucking day. And if that nipple hardened, I mean ‘when’ that nipple hardened, I would also argue that I felt only the normal fatherly concern for my daughter Alice and that I didn’t feel that nipple harden under my finger. I would also argue that my once-again full hard-on was the result of seeing Melanie only, not Alice.
Speaking of Alice, she happened to stir right at that moment and lifted her head up a bit.
“Daddy?” she asked in that little sweet drunken voice. “Whass happening? I can’t move very well.”
“We’re going to dry your hair and put you to bed.”
“Daddy? Are you holding my boobs?” Terrific, I’m so busted now.
“Yes honey, so you won’t fall over.”
“Iss okay Daddy, feels kinda nice.”
I felt her head bob forward again as she slipped back into her stupor. Good, I thought. She won’t remember any of this.
By now Melanie had gotten out the blow dryer and began drying Alice’s hair. For some reason, Melanie seemed to think she didn’t need to put on any clothes yet. And as she and I moved around to try and get all of Alice’s hair dry, she seemed to be bumping into me and leaning against me a lot. At one point she leaned hard against my shoulder to bend over Alice’s hair.
There’s no other way to say this. Her pussy ground into my shoulder and her boobs dragged on the top of my head. She stayed that way for longer than I thought necessary. My fully hard cock, of course, had already noticed that we were fondling Alice. Fondling? No! Accidentally touching! It was just incidental contact! ‘He’ also noticed Melanie’s boobs and pussy touching us. I didn’t think my cock would go back down for a week.
Melanie turned the hair dryer onto my hair and slowly ran her fingers through it.
Sensually. She sensually ran her fingers through my hair and massaged my scalp, as the warm air flowed over my head. Goddammit Melanie, I’m supposed to be mad at you for letting my daughter get so stupid-drunk in public. But the anger lessened.
Melanie set the dryer down and together we managed to get Alice’s dry shorts and T-shirt on that I had brought in earlier. At this point, we just did whatever was necessary to accomplish the task, me being unmindful of the softness of her firm buttocks, her delicate breasts, or the gentle rise of her shaved mound. I didn’t even think about them. At all. Not even a passing thought.
I continued to hold Alice in the chair as Melanie dried her own blonde hair. She seemed to need to stand, still naked, right beside me. I caught a whiff of her sex as she separated her legs slightly. The whiff turned into a scent and then turned into an honest-to-God aroma. My already ragged breathing became rougher as I shook my head, trying to figure this situation out. Melanie finished drying her hair. I pointed at the dry clothes sitting on the counter.
“Put ‘em on,” I whispered.
She gave me an exaggerated pouty face. I almost laughed, but I couldn’t do that now!
“Put, them, ON!” I hissed.
She stuck her tongue out at me, but grabbed the shorts and struggled into them.
Melanie is NOT fat or big in any way. But Alice’s clothes are made for a tiny peanut girl who’s a size Zero. Melanie was maybe a Four or Six, which is perfect for her height. But not perfect for these little stretchy pants. She only got them on with a lot of side-to-side effort. Her gorgeous tits bounced and jumped around as she did so. I should have looked away, it wasn’t decent of me to ogle at her. But I think I hurt my neck a little bit from carrying Alice around, so I left my head facing Melanie’s direction.
Melanie had the same issue with Alice’s T-shirt; it was too small. Somehow she got the shirt over her breasts, though, and the ultra-tight shirt seemed to magnify her breasts and made her look even sexier than she did a minute ago. Like that was even possible! Of course, being probably 6 inches taller than my daughter, a fair amount of skin showed between shirt and shorts. But it was like Melanie didn’t even try to cover up her breasts; she displayed plenty of ‘neathage’. (Similar to cleavage, but just the underneath of the breasts is visible when the shirt is too high.)
Fuck, me. This was getting to be too much. I’m just a man, after all.
She grabbed Alice’s stuff and opened the door for me out to my bedroom. I checked on the drunken wife; she had moved from her back to now laying on her side, and she snored softly. Okay then. I scooped Alice up and away we went.
I tiptoed to Alice’s room while Melanie tromped hard behind me. She slipped past me in the hallway and went ahead to turn on the lights and turn down Alice’s bed. I gently laid her down on her side in what is called “The Recovery Position”. That’s so that if she throws up in her sleep, it will go forward onto the bed. You don’t want to lay a catatonic drunk on their back. Lots of dead rock stars know about that. I propped up a bunch of pillows so she couldn’t roll over on her back.
“Daddy?” Alice surprised us as she whispered.
“I gotta headache.”
I told Melanie to stay with Alice while I went back to my bathroom to get a plastic cup and some ibuprofen. Wife was still asleep. But when I returned to the bedroom I was in for another shock.
Melanie was kneeling at the foot of Alice’s bed, talking softly to her, but she had removed the too-tight shorts. Her ass stuck out suggestively. Her bare ass. I had seen it before, of course, but it was always doing something necessary. Now it just stuck out there, like it wanted something.
In a very suave and debonair fashion (or is it swave and deboner?) I somehow didn’t spill the water or drop the pain pills. I roused Alice up and she managed to swallow them down. I kissed Alice on her forehead and told her I loved her. My raging cock clearly stood out in my shorts. With any luck on my part, she won’t remember any of this.
I turned to Melanie and gave her an evil glare.
“Alright, you. You can stay in the Bonus Room on the couch. Keep an eye on her for now. Put something on. I’ll be back.”
I didn’t want Melanie stomping around any more than she had to while I got the fold-out couch ready. It took just a couple of minutes to remove the cushions and set up the couch with pillows, and I returned to Alice’s room.
I don’t know what I expected on my return, but it wasn’t this: Melanie was in the same position, but it looked like she was praying! Now, I’m not a religious man, but I don’t think God would be too impressed with his supplicants dressed like that.
Sighing heavily, I knelt down beside her to try and coax her to stand up. Melanie turned to me, and I could now that she wasn’t praying, she was crying.
“I’m so… (sniff)... so sorry… for all of this…”
Oh great, I thought. She went straight from happy drunk to sappy drunk in two minutes flat. It’s so fun to be around drunk people when you’re the sober one. Please notice the sarcasm. She apologized for the noise, for the drunkenness, for stepping on my flowers in the driveway (Huh? Goddammit! Those were expensive!), for not watching Alice carefully enough, and about five other irrelevant things. Then she began apologizing again.
I got pissed as this went on and on. I grabbed her by her chin and got in her face.
“Look. Stop it! What’s the matter with you! You’re, what, 26 years old?”
She suddenly looked even more upset.
“Almost 29!” and she began to cry again. I shook her face a little bit.
“Then you should know better!” I said, and not too quietly, either. “She’s my little girl! And you let her get dead-fucking-drunk in public! You know what can happen to girls when they get like that! Frankly, I’m ashamed of you. I thought you were this tough, hard-as-nails professional chick. But you’re acting like… well, I don’t know what you’re acting like, but it’s not right.”
“You’re right,” she answered quietly. “I messed up. And I am an ‘Officer Of The Court.’ Sworn and duty-bound to follow and uphold the law. The letter of the law, and the spirit of the law. And I didn’t do that. I broke the law, your law. And ignorance of the law is no excuse. Therefore, and heretofore unto with, I must be punished. Do your worst!”
And she stuck her ass out even further. Invitingly, is how she stuck it out.
So, I guess I’m supposed to spank her. Yeah, right. I’m just going to spank someone, a drunken lawyer, no less, that I just met. That sounds like assault to me. I was in jail once when I was 19, for about six hours. Didn’t like it much. So I was pretty fucking sure I don’t want to go to a Federal-pound-me-in-the-ass penitentiary.
I spoke to her harshly, “Yeah, sure. So you can sue me or arrest me tomorrow? Just go to bed, and get the hell outta here by 7 in the morning!”
Melanie stood up, her bare mound inches from my face, looked around and then grabbed Alice’s purse. She pulled out my daughter’s iPhone and swiped the camera on, in selfie mode, and spoke into it.
“I, Melanie Johnson, do hereby authorize and order Mr. James Jansen to punish me. To spank me. Til death do us part. No... wait… yes… to spank me. Ten times. With whatever force, he deems fit as long as he doesn’t spank me like a pussy.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” I said.
Melanie propped the phone up on the dresser so that it faced us. Alice had probably a 40-watt bulb burning, but I guess it was enough light? What the fuck… what the fuck… My hard-on had vanished from before, but now it was returning.
Melanie went back to the foot of my daughter’s bed and knelt down. Her glorious, heart shaped ass begged for a spanking. Her pleading eyes begged me to spank her. Her oral deposition clearly ordered me to spank her.
But… I’ve never actually spanked anyone before. Well, not a grown-up. I’ve certainly never hit a woman. But, this isn’t hitting, right? It’s just a spanking. Like when the kids were little and ran out into the street. They needed to learn a lesson.
And Melanie needed to learn a lesson; don’t endanger my daughter.
“Alright, fine,” I said. Then I decided to fuck with her.
“But only ten? I’m not sure that’s nearly enough.” I was thinking that she might counter with 11. Or 12.
Melanie stared coldly at me.
“Make it 20, you bastard,” she intoned. “And I haven’t got all night.”
Oh sure, give me attitude. Bitch!
I knelt down next to her and caressed her ass with my right hand. So warm, and smooth as silk, and so very firm, yet fleshy. I remember thinking “I would kill for this ass, and all I have to do is spank it.”
I pulled my hand back and gave her a nice Swat on her left cheek!
“That’s none,” she said, sardonically. “Can’t you do any better than that?”
“Okay, fine!” I responded. And I gave her a harder swat on the same cheek.
“Wimp” was all she said.
She just shook her head and said, “Well, Jesus Christ. If you aren’t even going to try then what’s the--”
Melanie stiffened up, then she winked at me. I rubbed her cheek that I just smacked.
“Okay!” she grinned. “Now you’re on the board! But remember, each one has to be harder than the last one!”
Really? Well, these are her rules, not mine. I’m just carrying out the sentence. SLAP!
And then SLAP! SLAP!
“Look, fucker,” she said with a slight quiver in her voice. “You can switch cheeks, you know! That’s four.”
“Sorry,” I said. I mean, duh! Don’t just pound the one side. There’s lots of real estate back here! Lovely and soft real estate. But even in the dim light, I could see her left butt cheek reddening. I massaged her cheek some more. My solid steel cock was really enjoying this. I’m not proud.
I gave her four more hard ones on her right cheek, then massaged her ass some more. I firmly rubbed both cheeks with both hands. I smelled pussy again, and my right hand went deep in her butt cleavage.
My middle finger pressed hard into her butthole, slightly wet from either sweat or leftover moisture from the shower, I couldn’t tell. I rubbed it for many seconds, which elicited a lovely little moan from Melanie.
“God, yes” she whispered. “Touch me… just… touch me…”
I cupped my hand and gave her two hard and rapid SLAPs right on her ass cleft, which made an interesting ‘Pop’ noise that I wasn’t expecting. My hand slid into her crack again, this time I rubbed her damp pussy lips. Pressing harder, my middle and my ring fingers slipped right into her hot velvet sex.
Melanie gave a long, drawn out “Ahhhhhh” as I continued to manipulate her pussy. Then she gave out a solid grunt as I sunk all four fingers inside her steamy hole. At first, I thought I might’ve been pushing it with all four fingers, but she had apparently been getting juicy for quite a while.
“Halfway,” I whispered in her ear. She nodded.
“Give it to me,” she answered. “Harder, Daddyman!”
I hauled off and gave her a goddamned solid SWAT on her right cheek again, and then shoved my four fingers back inside her as far as they would go. I folded my thumb over and it went in for the ride, too.
Melanie yelped, and then moaned, and then squealed as my fingers did their work. I twisted my hand back and forth, then turned it 180 degrees so then I could curl up my fingers against the front of her vaginal wall. That’s where I expected to find her G-spot.
It occurred to me that I hadn’t touched her tits yet. I had seen those lovely fuckers, several times. But I needed to touch them. As I frigged her Spot, my left hand yanked up the tight shirt over her left tit. I grabbed and squeezed it hard, pleased by the firm flesh. Gripping her nipple tight, I thrust my hand in and out of her as fast as I could, making sure to press all over her G-spot.
In about 30 seconds I was rewarded by an entire body clench on Melanie’s part. Her legs clamped down on my hand so hard I thought she might have broken some hand bones. Since I couldn’t move my right hand anymore, I slapped her tit with my left a few times and twisted her nipple back and forth as hard as I could.
Melanie slumped face down on Alice’s bed. (Remember Alice? This is a story about Alice. She was still passed out on the bed.) Melanie’s entire body spasmed and she screamed into the covers, gripping her pillow tight.
I waited for a minute or so for her to come back to me as she seemed to have gone elsewhere for awhile. With my hand still inside her, I tried to maneuver around to the other side of her. But, my hand didn’t bend that way, had to pull it out.
Might as well let her know how she’s doing, I thought. So I grabbed a full handful of blonde hair and lifted her head a couple inches from the bed. And I stuck my pussyjuice-covered right hand inside her mouth.
Melanie greedily sucked my fingers, grabbing my hand and fucking her mouth with it. She licked and sucked each finger individually, too.
“I’ve lost track, sweetheart,” I admitted.
“Eleven,” she panted. “Come on!”
Now fully on her other side, my left hand became the dominant hand. My left hand is stupid and uncoordinated like most right-handed people, and it seems to do what it wants sometimes. Without any conscious thought, my left hand plunged into her liquid sex again, but pulled out shortly and thoroughly went up her crack until it reached her asshole.
My left middle finger sank into her ass. First knuckle. Followed quickly by the second.
“Ow!” cried Melanie.
I kept my finger in her ass and swatted her ass with my right hand. I didn’t really have the angle, though, and she let me know it.
“Still eleven! Don’t bring me that weak-assed shit!”
My left hand may be stupid, but it knows when we get insulted. It reared back and landed a solid shot on her backside. It fucking stung my hand! I don’t know how she’s managing to take this.
I looked at her, she gritted her teeth and held her breath for about 30 seconds. Finally, she exhaled and gasped several times.
Why is she calling me Daddy? That is so wrong. I’m not her Daddy! Although I’d like to be-- wait a second, she’s fucking with me! I’m the one meting out the punishment, but she’s mind-fucking me!
“Daddy?” I asked. “I’ll show you who Daddy is!”
And I trounced her ass, very fucking hard, several times. Many times. My fucking hand hurt. Her fucking ass felt like it was on fire. My chest rose and fell heavily. I was getting fucking tired. It had to be 3:00 in the morning by now, anyway.
Melanie moved up so her body was lying on the bed, but still on her knees on the floor. Obviously, she couldn’t waste any energy on trying to remain upright. I heard her sniffling. I brushed her hair back over her ears… and I could see the tears as they rolled gently down her cheek.
What have I done?
Who am I? Why am I doing this! I couldn’t think straight, I began to not like myself very much.
“Melanie,” I whispered in her ear as I tried feebly to massage her cheeks that must be killing her. They felt so hot. “I’m sorry. I’m so very very--”
“Eighteen” was all she said. And she raised back up off the bed, arched her back, and stuck her ass out as far as absolutely possible. She glared at me, her misty eyes gleaming in the light.
At this point, a normal person would insist on helping her to bed. Get her some pain pills for the headache she’ll have in the morning. Stop hitting the poor girl, for fuck’s sake, no matter how much she asked for it.
But she awoke something in me. Something I’ve known was always there, but seldom, and I mean extremely seldom, did it rise to the surface.
I liked this girl. She challenged me. She scared me. She tantalized me. She moved me.
She still does.
I loved her.
I just met her and I loved her. Is that even possible?
On some level, anyway. All I felt was love, and caring, and a deep respect. I barely knew her and I felt stronger for her than anyone I’ve felt for in my life.
My own eyes dampened as this intense wave of emotion rolled over me. I got directly behind her, spreading her legs far apart so I could kneel between them.
I spread both of my arms apart, far and wide, and give her the final two spanks in quick succession, one with each hand.
...and Melanie screamed in agony (or ecstasy?) into the bed covers.
I leaned forward and plowed my diamond-hard cock straight into her fiery and beyond-wet pussy. She collapsed on the bed with me on top of her. I rose up on my feet so I could get a better purchase on the rug, and fucked the ever-loving shit out of her.
Well, honestly, I probably only lasted about two minutes. Maybe. Hopefully. But it was a good and hard fucking two minutes. And I know I pounded the front of her pussy from inside and ground it into the bed on the outside.
My seed shot into her during the cum of my lifetime. My orgasm poured into her, all I felt was my love pouring into her and I know she felt it, too. She must have. She had to have felt my feelings for her? Her pussy gripped me in a death clench, rapidly spasming as she came, also.
My head nestled in her neck, I smelled her beautiful and still slightly damp hair. I breathed in heavily, I didn’t want to miss anything. I wanted all her smells, to remember.
Eventually, our breathing slowed, and I landed back on Earth. By some unspoken mutual agreement, we clawed our way up on the other side of my daughter’s bed and got under the covers. I pulled off my boxers and T-shirt.
We kissed, gently at first, but only for a few moments. Passion took over as we kissed furiously; we even bumped our teeth once! Melanie wrapped her arms around me and held on for dear life, as did I.
Presently, she pressed me onto my back and mounted my hard-again cock. She just slid the fuck down on it. Laying on top of me, with her legs straddling mine, we slowly fucked in perfect, loving rhythm. We fucked for ten, or maybe twenty minutes. I don’t know, couldn’t tell ya, but it was fantastic.
At some point, I broke all the rules and whispered, “Hey, Beautiful, I love you.”
She gasped and stopped fucking me. She wiped her eyes with her hand and said, “I know. I felt it. I love you too.” She leaned down and kissed me so softly it almost hurt. Her wet cheeks pressed into mine.
We then sped up our love-making until we both came again in shared exquisite bliss.
As we lay together, my brain re-activated itself. It wanted to know a lot of things, like why was Melanie here fucking me? Her entire behavior this evening defied explanation. Nobody 29 years old would be interested in some older Daddy like me, unless… unless… what?
Melanie sensed the shift in my brainwaves and looked into my eyes. “Don’t fight it, just kiss me.”
And we kissed, and my brain slowed down, and with our arms and legs entwined, we drifted off to sleep, perchance to dream. Aye, there’s the rub, no dream could be better than this.
= = =
“Daddy?” my daughter called to me out of the dark fog.
“Daddy! You gotta get up! It’s a quarter to Seven!”
Oh shit! I shook Melanie awake. She sat up for a moment, then sprang into life and tried to find something to wear.
“Come on!” urged Alice. “Mom’s going to be in here any minute!”
Alice fell back in the bed holding her head. I’m sure it was killing her.
I grabbed my daughter’s phone… shit! It was dead! Oh yeah, we left it filming last night… I grabbed Alice’s laptop and punched in the Uber website. We needed a car, NOW! Finally, got one on the way.
“Daddy? You know you’re naked, right?”
Aw, fuck! And Goddammit also!
“Okay, Alice. I’m sorry. It’s an emergency, though. I know you’re hurting, but you’ve gotta find something for Melanie to wear. And get her out of here! I’ll go distract Mom. And Melanie…” I stopped.
What do I say to her? Was last night real? Or just a fleeting thing? A wonderful result of a fucked up night? It almost seemed like a dream. My heart told my brain that we still loved her, though. And always would. We’ll probably have to chalk this one up as just a one-shot, fantastic time, as I’m sure she’ll go on her merry way and live her life without some old guy, me.
Melanie stopped picking up clothes from the floor when I called her. She looked at me with a rather blank stare, I couldn’t read her expression. I began to feel certain she couldn’t wait to blow this joint.
She threw the clothes on the bed and rushed into my arms. We held each other tight, naked, and it felt heavenly. Junior Jansen started feeling heavenly, too.
“You guys,” chimed in Alice. “I think I’m gonna puke some more,” We broke the embrace.
“Daddy! Put that hard-on away! I’m right here, you know!” Alice grabbed her head and tried to shield her eyes from the sight.
Melanie smiled at me. She had gorgeous light green eyes, it’s really the first time I’d been able to tell what color they were. I could get so lost in those eyes…
Alice threw a pillow at us. Melanie spoke to me.
“Get my number from Alice. Call me in a few hours.” She paused and kissed me for a moment.
“Or I’ll come back and kill you.”
I kinda think she meant it.
= = = = =
Continued in Chapter Two
Thank you, readers, for going on this little journey with me. I welcome your comments and votes, they mean a lot. (Except for the “I have a 8 ench dik, kik me” comments. Really? Write your own story!) Thank you to Mel for the editing and the inspiration. Please check out her stories on this site under author name Melanieatplay. Mel, I can only dream.