Mum and dad have spent an absolute fortune on landscaping…or rather re-landscaping part of their grounds. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say the stable black has been moved so it opens into the paddock, and what was a courtyard is now a vast lawn, surrounding which are vegetable gardens, flower borders, and a humongous koi pond. Plus loads more….well, I had to see it.
A leisurely breakfast with them and a guided tour that took the better part of two hours, so, might as well stay for lunch, and let me have a mooch around on my own afterwards.
The tennis court - scene of some daddy/daughter fun - still remains, and running my fingers over the chain-link fencing upon which, on the fateful afternoon, I had intertwined my fingers and held on while being fucked from behind of course made me wet up nicely at the memory. Various parts of the grounds are still recognisable, such as the old pool in which Alison and I discovered the wonder of swimming pool jets, and by which Ali and I explored one another’s bodies on more than one occasion. Damn…more wetness.
The orchard remains, although it’s much smaller for now at least - scene of much adolescent masturbation, and where, during the Covid lockdowns I would spy on Mum and Dad as they fucked. By now, panties were more of a hindrance than a help. So, I slid them off….followed, almost on autopilot by the dress. I hung it on an apple tree, draping the panties on a branch in the forlorn hope they might dry a little in the sunshine.
Next thing I knew, I was lying on the cool grass, looking up at 93 millions miles of sky and idly fingering myself. So many sexual memories came back, from my first adolescent exploration of masturbation, to Alison, to Dad, to watching Mum and Dad fuck, to hearing them, especially to hearing them role-play me or Ali….all dirty stuff, and all unspeakably delicious!
I got lost in my own world of sexual memories…some enhanced…like the one where Mum (in my imagination) caught me and Dad on that tennis court, and ate him out of me when he’d cum inside me. I’d had three ‘lead up’ orgasms, but I knew the big one was still uncoiling herself deep in my gut.
What was it? A slight noise? Or that innate sixth sense we girls carry when we know not only that someone’s staring, but which direction they’re in. I opened my eyes….and found myself staring right into my dad’s. He stood there gazing back at his obviously masturbating daughter.
Telepathy? Yes, I firmly believe we can transmit and receive messages just by eye contact. Or is it the subtle, almost indistinguishable facial expressions by which we communicate with one another…and did, long before the human species was capable of speech. I honestly don’t know, but whatever it was, we both simultaneously understood there would be no fucking - not this time anyway. But I did notice the bulge in his shorts, and he got the message. He unzipped and began to masturbate with me.
Dad is what is referred to as a ‘heavy cummer’, something I was now looking forward to immensely. What was he thinking about? Fucking me? Me swallowing his load? Or was it just a girl masturbating in front of him? It neither was important nor mattered a damn.
I spread my legs, bringing my knees up so he could see my dripping sex more clearly, and so I could imagine I could feel the touch of his eyes on my intimate area. The orgasm uncoiled and began to thrash its tail in eager anticipation of release…..which I denied her. She dug her claws into my womb and vagina, causing momentary but exquisite pain. Yet still I refused her release.
I knew. I knew to the exact millisecond when he would cum, and with it, my dragon was released. I felt the first arc of semen splatter high on my body and my face, followed by a second, and a third, for which I had my mouth open. Some went in, but most rolled down my cheeks from my lips. Further splatters hit my stomach and my masturbating hand. My orgasm made me cry out, made me moan, made me writhe on the grass.
Somewhere in a sane part of my brain, I was reminded that owing to the immense blow menopause has struck my mum, full-on, no-holds-barred, and come to that, no holds barred sex is, for dad, now a thing of the past. Perhaps that’s where the tear of unspeakable sadness that now filled me came from.
He fell to his knees between my open legs, and then fell forward, supporting himself on one hand. I reached up, pulling him down on top of me and his still ejaculating cock entered me. He finished his orgasm buried deep inside me, and I knew in that moment that I would be there for him. He knew it too. Oh, it won’t be a daily event by any means, or even monthly…but now and then. When the need for sex becomes overwhelming, I know I will be there for him.
Perverse? Sick? Perhaps. But also an act of love.
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