Care Takers - The BeginningbyTheMedi8or©
"Goddamnit Sharon! Do you have to come busting in here and wake me up every 15 minutes!?"
"I'm sorry Daddy. I just wanted to tell you mom's sleeping so I have to run a quick errand."
His daughter's tone was hurt, and rightfully so, and Mark felt like shit. He heard her softly shut the door and heard the whispered footsteps of her retreat down the hallway and clenched his hands in frustration. It wasn't Sharon's fault that he was tired or snappy, it was the night shifts he was working to try and keep their finances together.
Honestly, he should be grateful that his 26 year-old daughter had given up her life and moved back in to help with his wife's care. A lot of kids these days would never have done that, and without Sharon's help, he would have completely fallen apart after Karen's stroke eight months ago.
Still, having her back home after six years of just him and Karen being in the house was hard to get used to. Even before her stroke he and Karen had mainly worked around each other, comfortable in their distance from one another. It had almost been like having the house to himself sometimes.
Now, his bubbly, uninhibited daughter was constantly bouncing about reminding him of his own age and alone-ness.
The constant night shifts, so that he and Sharon could split Karen's care, were beginning to wear on him too. He worked all night, and often had his sleep interrupted by some issue with Karen's care. Karen had always been a big woman, even before her stroke, and Sharon couldn't lift her mother. So Mark had to be awoke every time Karen needed the bathroom, when she had to be sat up to eat or, heaven forbid, when she got it in her head she was going to get up on her own and ended up falling. Even when he could have slept, Mark spent his days half-awake, waiting for the horrible sound of his wife crashing to the ground yet again.
Even at work he had no peace. He and Karen hadn't been sexually active in more years than he cared to admit and he was ashamed to admit that, early on, he'd had his share of "stepping out." However, he'd tried to be a good husband for the last ten years and kept it in his pants, at least where other people were concerned. His daily masturbation had become a lifeline for relieving stress and trying desperately to ignore the women constantly around him at work.
One in particular, Stacy, had made her willingness clear. She was never pushy about it, never tried to do anything to make him uncomfortable, but the message was there nonetheless. And while Stacy might not have been the most attractive woman he'd ever met, she was twenty years his junior and RADIATED sexual energy. Every glance, every low cut top, every knowing smile made his groin tighten up just a little, and by the end of the shift his need for release almost unbearable. So he would get in his car every morning, head back home to his lonely bed and do NOTHING.
That was the main problem with Sharon being home. His daughter might be all grown up, but she still kept many of the youthful tendencies she'd had as a child. She might be 26, but she still would come bursting into his room without warning as if she were still 6. It made taking matters "into his own hand" impossible.
Except, now he was awake and Sharon was out somewhere. He didn't want to go to sleep again until she got back anyways, just in case Karen needed something. So maybe? He could already feel himself growing hard just at the thought of releasing months of pent up frustration. Visions of Stacy already danced at the edges of his mind, and when he closed his eyes it clarified instantly into the visual of her cleavage and the feel of her ass against his leg that time the elevator had been crowded. Had she really wiggled it into his crotch on purpose? And had he ever been this hard, this quickly when he was alone?
Groaning aloud in frustration, he threw the blanket back and raised his ass in the air to slide his sleeping sweats down to his knees. Closing his eye he let the temptress of his dreams fill his thoughts and began to stroke himself firmly. He tried to keep the pace down, to savor his first release in months, but the image of that taunting, knowing smile was too much.
He had imagined her so frequently that he could smell her as if she were there. He knew just how she would taste on his tongue and what she would sound like when he took her. The feel of his hand was replaced by an almost fevered delusion of tight pussy sliding over his dick. He was panting now, his hips thrusting into his hand almost violently. So much for savoring the sensations, he was going to go any second now.
He opened his eye just as he reached the point of no return, and it was if his dreams had come true. Stacy was standing in his room, watching him as he stroked himself. The added excitement of being watched was the end. The first micro-second of his orgasm rolled through his mind and the first jet of cum shot into the air as if racing for freedom. Only Stacy's pale complexion was brown and her look was one of embarrassment and confusion. As he realized what he was he was looking at, it was too late.
It was his daughter's name that ripped loose from him as he came explosively. He had never brought himself like this before, hips hammering into his hand wildly, wave after wave of pleasure taking him until he could no longer even see Sharon's face before him. There were only stars and ecstasy.
In the back of his mind he was screaming in the same shame and embarrassment that he had seen in Sharon's face but even that seemed to only add to his lust. It was as if his humiliation at having been caught only fueled his orgasm.
He thought for a moment he might pass out before the deluge of pleasure left him, but after a seeming eternity he came back to himself. His legs, chest and hands were coated in the already-cooling semen and he finally felt as if he could sleep for a month. Only...
She was still there, looking at him.
"Sharon" His voice came out in a croak. How do you apologize to your daughter for having an explosive orgasm in front of her? Especially, he realized with horror, when she heard you screaming her name when you came.
"I didn't want to wake you again if you were sleeping."
Her response was a whisper and he had nothing to say in response. Before his reeling mind could come up something, she turned and fled the room. Not knowing what else to do, Mark got out of bed and began to clean himself up, hoping he would think of something before he went downstairs. Hoping his daughter didn't now hate him forever.