Her Fantasy or Mine?

"I wasn't."

"Uhnnn? But you could have, my parents separated."

"I didn't, but you mentioned that."

"Hmm? Um-hmm. More likely my sister; she's more like our mother. Don't know, wouldn't mind, if they both wanted to."

That ended our conversation, and we joined the children. Eventually, it was time to return for dinner. Fran's telling them that they would have their favorite food, let them finish their playing. The younger ones happily let themselves be put in their strollers, and we returned, having to wake the little ones when we got there. The older boys needed to go to the toilet, and the younger ones needed fresh pampers.

It was a little tedious with the four children until the noodles with tomato and meat sauce was on the table. Then they were all delighted and hungry. Henny had told us that we could raid the supply of wine, and Fran and I also enjoyed our meal. Four young faces and the table had to be wiped clean of tomato sauce, and the younger ones immediately agreed to taking a nap. Fran and I smiled when we saw them again curl up together. The older boys weren't so cooperative, but my insistence that that they had to, so that my grandson would be fresh when his mother came home convinced them to lie down, and soon they were also asleep.

Fran patted my hand with a smile at my success, and we returned to the kitchen and emptied our wine glasses. She glanced around at what needed to be washed up, and then at me, asking:

"Do we need a nap, too?"

"Hmm? Probably? But like you might mean?"

"Hmmm! Probably; better now than after cleaning up."

"And if the kids wake up?"

"They won't for a while."

"You really want to? Want to risk it?"

"If you will. Hm-hmm! We can both do it, and keep most of our clothes on."

"Hmm? Never did that."

"Me neither, ... but better than not doing it, and we'll hear the kids before they can surprise us."

"Hmm?! Mine, I hope. If you think yours will, won't."

"They won't."

"Promise?"

"No."

Fran grinned. I grinned and said:

"My bed, ... if you promise not to make me have to think about you all night."

"No! But I wouldn't mind if you did. Oh, we have to remake their bed."

"Later, before we clean the kitchen."

We grinned and hurried to the bed in the guest room. Smirking, Fran pulled up her skirt and pulled down her panties, while I opened my trousers and pulled down my underpants. She slipped off her shoes and let her panties drop, picking them up with a snort and putting them under my pillow:

"In case I have to jump up and just let my skirt drop."

"And I get to keep them?"

"Hmm! If you want, but I think they're pretty clean. You first, in case ..."

I slipped off my loafers and slid my trousers and underpants down further and got on the bed. Fran gathered up her skirt and joined me, drawing her thigh up under my head. She snorted and pushed my trousers and underpants down past my knees, so that I could open my thighs to let her put her head between them.

There was nothing romantic or erotic about our actions, just preparation for the sexual experience we were both anticipating. Her mouth slipped around my soft cock - all of it - and my mouth kissed her still closed pussy lips. But they quickly opened, and my cock began to grow in her mouth, and her pussy began to taste better. She was just sucking, her chin still pressed against my hair, but that was enough to make my cock start to stiffen. Did she want to try to do it again, just hold still and let my cock force its way into her throat?

It seemed like it, felt like it, but then she made a soft gagging sound and pulled her head back a little with a soft hum. I stopped licking and murmured: "You want to try again?"

She nodded with an "uhn-hnn."

"I'll wait then, but you don't have to; it will still be good."

She nodded again and began to suck and lick my cock, and I returned to enjoying her pussy. When her hand slid over my hip, I wondered if she wanted to hold it so she could try, but her fingers crept down to my asshole. Good idea; mine also found hers, and we both nodded with muffled chuckles.

For a while, probably only a minute or two, we enjoyed arousing each other and being aroused, especially for me, the new sensation from what her finger was doing, encouraging me to do more with mine than I had the night before, which had already been more than I ever expected.

Then she nodded and did tighten the pressure on my ass, beginning to move her head, letting my cock go slightly deeper each time. I stopped lick, as I had promised, but I probably would have, anyway, from my aroused anticipation of what it would feel like again. Uhnnn! It was almost there.

"Want me to come?" I murmured. I felt her shrug, and then her arm pressed against my ass, and with another move of her head, and then another one, with a gurgling sound, she pressed her mouth right up against me, and I felt the head of my cock slip into the tight ring of her throat.

"Uhnnn!" My cock was trying to twitch in the contractions of her throat, and I could feel on my balls her panting breath, and feel her tongue moving on my hair. Deepthroating wasn't overrated!

She pulled her head back and took a deep breath, moaning as she exhaled, and then took another one, and then the head of my cock was back in her throat again, more easily than before, and she held it there for longer, apparently more comfortable with the sensation, enough to remember to move her finger in my asshole, while my cock tried to twitch.

The she drew her head back and caught her breath again. I could feel that her mouth was full of saliva, and she let me feel it, slavering it around the head of my cock with her tongue as she gave a deep, satisfied sounding moan. When she moved her finger again, I also did and returned to licking her pussy, hoping that I could again make her squirt.

I did, deep in my mouth again, after she made me fill her mouth with my semen. We both relaxed with moaning sighs, rolling apart and chuckling softly. She snickered and murmured:

"Oh, he's going love that."

"Don't have to tell me."

"Guess not! Once it's there, ... at least after a little practice, thank you - it's easy."

"If you say so. He will."

"And I will too. ... He's bigger that you, but not there."

"I'll try to forget that when I see him, ... and how I know."

"Hmm? Yeah, I guess, try to then, but I won't forget."

"Nor I; ... how could I; the best sex I ever had."

"Sorry about that, but it has been for me too, at least, the way it all has happened."

"I hope so. You can make it happen again."

"Mmmm! I sure will try."

We snorted and sat up, smirking as we looked at each other and at our exposed hips and legs. Fran snorted again with a wry grin, pulling her skirt down as though she were embarrassed at the state of her attire. I reached under the pillow and handed her her panties. She nodded and murmured:

"Wash first."

She shuffled into her shoes, while I pulled up my underpants and pants. With more smirks, we went to the bathroom and washed. Properly clothed, we remade the other bed, still exchanging smirks. In the the kitchen, after a glance at the still sleeping children, I snorted and murmured:

"We still don't know what to tell Henny."

"Hmm? No. Anything you want. ... Hm-hmm! Kind of nice to tell her what happened."

"Really?! You two see her all the time."

"Oh, we have other secrets, known each other for over thirty years."

"Hmm?! If you think so. I hope she asks while you're still here; it was your idea, so you can tell her, ... or make up a better story."

"Hm-hmm! Couldn't be better than what we did."

"That's for sure, but it's more about your reputation than mine, especially since it was your idea."

"And if it had been yours, that wouldn't have made much difference."

"Um-hmm. She knows that I once had an affair, at least her brother does, so she probably does too. But this was with you. So?"

"Not an affair."

"But with you, so?"

"Lies have short legs. I'd just tell her, also that it was very good - for you too - she knows that both our parents aren't perfect. If she doesn't ask till we're gone, you can tell her whatever you want."

"Hmm? And if she asks while you are here, I have to live with any more questions?"

"Maybe I'll think of something."

"I hope so."

We both snorted and exchanged wry smiles. We had been cleaning up in the kitchen, making enough noise to wake the children. The older boys joined us and got a glass of milk and cookies. The younger children called to be taken out of their bed and got the same. With a little encouragement, they all went back and played, Fran and I accompanying them. We exchanged a few more wry smiles. It suddenly occurred to me that she couldn't tell Henny what we had actually done with the children there, and whispered that to her. She nodded.

An hour or so later, Henny returned. Her children immediately ran to greet her, followed by Fran's. We followed, greeting her. With her daughter on her arm, she asked if everything had been all right, and we assured her that the children had gotten along very well.

"And you two? Thank you for all your help."

"Very well," Fran replied, with only a neutral glance at me.

I nodded, agreeing:

"Yes, very well, with the kids and with each other."

My daughter smiled and suggested that Fran and her children stay for supper, since everything had gone so well and to save her from having to make supper for them. Fran agreed, with a slight smile at me; there was going to be plenty of time still for Henny to ask how we had spent the evening.

Henny played with the children for a while, and then it was time to think about supper. Fran immediately offered to help. I was a little apprehensive about her and Henny being alone in the kitchen, knowing that Henny would want to ask what we had done with the kids, leading to the obvious question of how the two of us had then spent the evening. Henny's: "Daddy, you can keep the kids out of trouble," settled what I had to do.

I tried to forget what they might be discussing and tried to keep the kids entertained, more difficult before supper. I was doing a pretty good job, when Henny suddenly called:

"Daddy, can you come here?"

Had she asked, had Fran told?! I excused myself from the kids, telling them that I had to help in the kitchen and to behave themselves. Very apprehensively, I joined Henny and Fran in the kitchen.

Luckily, I could see Fran through the door first. Her quick wry smile was not reassuring. When I was in the doorway, my daughter's expression was very different - shocked disbelief. I mentally kicked myself for not have anticipated the obvious questions, remarks, the first one:

"Fran just said that you slept with each other last night."

I nodded, replying:

"It was her idea. We did."

"She told me that already. You really did?!"

I nodded again, replying a little facetiously:

"Not really sleep."

"Daddy! I assumed that!"

"Should I have said 'no'? If she wanted to?"

"You wanted to?"

"I did. Do you mind?"

Henny glanced back and forth at Fran and me. Then she replied:

"I am just very surprised about you two."

"We were too," Fran replied softly.

I nodded. Henny scowled and muttered:

"My Daddy and my oldest girlfriend."

"Fran didn't tell you why?"

"We didn't get that far," Fran replied, adding to me:

"You can tell her this evening."

"That's unfair; you got me into this."

Henny snorted and replied, looking at me:

"You'd better. I know you and Mom now sleep in separate bedrooms, but ..." she looked at Fran, continuing: " ... you, Fran?!"

She looked a little embarrassed, but not blushing, and replied:

"We talked about it - beforehand - that it wasn't an affair, that there was nothing better to do ..."

"'Nothing better to do!'" Henny interjected with a snort and another scowl.

"Fran did most of the talking," I remarked.

A slight, wry smile passed over her lips as she nodded once, continuing:

"I guess so; and that ..., well, after I had said that I wanted to, surprising myself, and since we had talked about it, that it was too late to go to separate beds, both of us then wondering what might have happened."

"Hmm? Hmm!" Henny snorted, glancing back and forth at us, and remarked:

"Thinking about it is as bad as doing it, or something like that in the Bible."

"Probably St. Paul," I suggested.

"So you just went ahead and did it."

"Something like that," Fran agreed, and I nodded, exchanging slight smiles with each other.

"Hmm! I won't ask what you did," Henny remarked.

That ended the conversation, which would have had to stopped, anyway, since the two older boys came in the kitchen and asked if supper wasn't ready. It wasn't, but the mothers quickly completed preparing it, while I fetched the two younger children.

During the meal, Henny asked the children what they had done, and their telling kept my mind off the subject - except when Fran smiled once with a wink.

After supper, Fran packed up her kids. Henny and I thanked her for helping me with them. When she replied: "Anytime," we all snorted with wry smiles. Henny snorted again and remarked:

"I can imagine; rather not think about it; your help is just too convenient. Thanks again."

After they left, Henny looked at me with a snort, shaking her head with a puzzled smile. I offered to clean up in the kitchen, while she got the kids ready for bed. I joined them and read a story to them, and then it was time for them to go to bed. After they were down, I mentioned that there was still wine in the bottle for lunch. She replied:

"Hmm! That too. I could use a glass of two after hearing that."

Back in the kitchen, I poured, and we drank - more than just a good sip. She looked at me with her puzzled expression and remarked:

"Sure didn't expect that to happen. Oh, I know she as always liked you, but not like that! Telling me back when that it was nice the way you helped take us to sports and so on; and now, that you're good with the kids, and you are, thank you - but not like that!"

"You couldn't have been much more surprised than I was."

"And she just told you that she wanted to?"

"Um-hmm. She was diapering one of the boys, and out of nowhere said: 'I want to sleep with you, Mr. Rogers.' I've told her she can call me Martin."

"Hmm! I suppose so! She can be very direct, but like that?"

"That's what I thought, too. I was playing memory with the other one and just replied: 'Really?' I guess I was trying not to sound as surprised as I was."

"Hmm! Just not to embarrass her?"

"Oh, she was a little surprised that she had said it, but she had; no escaping the subject."

"Men, boys say that, but not my girlfriend to my father."

"I won't ask how you know they do."

Henny smirked slightly, and we had another good drink of wine. Then she snorted and said:

"Oh, you were supposed to tell me how she came to think about doing it with you."

I told her what Fran had told me. Henny snorted a couple of times, but didn't interrupt me. Then she remarked:

"Shit! I had forgotten that, that I told her. Sort of had forgotten that you always made breakfast that way. Hmm? Just the way you were before breakfast. And she had fantasies about you?"

"She said so, based on whatever you told. You must have ..., you always were good with words."

"Hmm! Telling her how you looked?"

"I guess. ... Hm-hmm! I didn't ask her if she thought you had been right."

"Hmm! You're shameless; she is too."

"More than we thought, probably."

"I hope so. My girlfriend harboring fantasies about you for twenty-plus years ...."

"I didn't have any about her. To be polite, I said that I had wondered if she also had red hair there too, but that only occurred to me while we were talking."

"Just to be polite. She does."

"She did, shaves now."

"Like most of us do."

"I didn't ask."

We snorted, smirking slightly, and I refilled our glasses. We drank again, smiling again at what seemed to be a new level of intimacy: her having revealed that and our talking about my having had sex with her girlfriend, now apparently with no shocked undertones. No, there weren't any; Henny snorted and remarked:

"Well, I hope it was good."

"You weren't going to ask, but it was. ... I'm sure it was for her, too. Kind of makes an older man feel proud."

"Hmm! Hm-hmm! Congratulations then."

She grinned, and we chuckled, and we had just a sip of wine, grinning again. Suddenly she looked more serious and remarked softly:

"Oh, once when I was I college, you wrote me to try to be the best lover he ever had, long before we got engaged. Hmm? I wondered if you had been sober."

"I was, surprised myself that I did write that, but ..., well, you can imagine the unspoken complaint that suggested that."

"Um-hmm. Oh, I was surprised, but it was good advice. Thank you, now. Back then, I didn't know what to say, and it was a while before ..., well, you know, ... I could 'heed' it, to use that old-fashioned word."

"I'm glad. What every father should tell his daughter."

She nodded, and we chuckled with smiles and had another sip. She nodded again and replied:

"Helped us to get through that bad period before our wedding. Those were nice letters too, they also helped; couldn't confide in Mom about that; knew that I didn't want to hear her comments."

I smiled with a nod, thinking that Fran's suggestion was having positive, unexpected side effects, for an instant, wondering if Henny also thought so and would suggest again that we both mind the kids. I resisted the impulse to remark that Henny must be a very good lover; there are some limits to how much intimacy we could share.

She took another sip from her almost empty glass and remarked softly:

"Nice to be able to talk about it. Whatever you and Fran did, we wouldn't be, if you hadn't."

"About what I was just thinking."

We smiled and emptied our glasses. She yawned and said that it had been a long day.

"Want to go to bed now?" I asked, quickly adding: "not together, of course."

"Hmm! ... Hmmm? I almost could. ... I said that? It's nice to sleep with someone, just 'sleep' with him."

"Um-hmm, it is, but I wasn't suggesting that, just clarifying that my first remark not be misunderstood."

"Of course. ... Hmm? I wonder if Fran or her sister do, their parents' being separated."

"We talked about that too. She said that she wouldn't mind if her sister did, if they both wanted to."

"Hmm? Sure, of course, you talked about everything that has anything to do with it."

"But that's not an excuse to do it."

She nodded with wry smile, remarking softly:

"But it makes it easier to think about it."

"I know, but your boy will probably come along sometime in the morning."

"You were thinking about it."

"If you don't mind. That's why Fran and I didn't. I warned her. Oh, he did, apparently only a little surprised, but then continued to climb into bed with her, with his hand on her breast."

"He did?"

"We wondered if he did with you, and sleeping naked."

"Hmm! Naked, yes, sometimes he does. Hm-hmm! Hers, more for him to hold."

"But not for his small hand."

We chuckled and turned out the light and left the kitchen. When we said goodnight in the dark, as usual, we embraced like father and daughter, with European-style kisses left and right. But then she didn't release me, murmuring: "Like this too," and kissed me on my mouth, her tongue immediately wanting to find mine. For a few seconds, they caressed, and her hips pressed against mine. Before my cock could respond - had she anticipated that? - she retrieved her tongue, humming cheerfully, and murmured:

"Nice. I just had to do that."

"Hmm? Very nice, and more surprising. Remember when you were ten and wanted to show me how grown-ups kiss."