Soothing My Daddy Ch. 01byAhabscribe©
Here's part one of what I think is a sweet, happy two part tale...part two will be along in a few days. I don't do many Daddy/Daughter tales, but I hope you enjoy this one. Please let me know what you think - be it negative or positive. Quality feedback is always helpful!
As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters within are only figments of my imagination! Enjoy!
I'd been studying for the big Chemistry test for the better part of two hours. It was past midnight and I guess I had been dozing for a while when I was jerked awake from noise from my parents' bedroom which was across the hallway from mine. I could hear Mama's voice, shrill and angry as it always seemed to be lately, intermittingly -- "Keep...awake. Get up...walk it...so I can get some sleep."
I heard the old wood floor creaking and then my parents' bedroom door open and close and then the familiar footsteps of my father descending the stairs. I rubbed my eyes and sighed. Daddy was hurting again. My heart ached for him. The last several months had seen him inflicted with leg pains -- night cramps that kept him up and often walking the floor at all hours. Daddy was the floor supervisor at the local paper factory and he worked hard...always down on the lines with the men and not taking it easy behind a desk.
I pushed away from my desk and crept to my door and opened it slightly. In the quiet of the late night, I could hear Mama already snoring again and occasional grunts of pain from my father as he tried to walk off his misery. Mama wasn't too sympathetic, especially when the doctor had said it wasn't something too critical -- just night cramps common to men of Daddy's age. Mama tended to have a hard view on things, especially when they interfered with her sleep. It was becoming an old story that when Daddy got too restless in bed with his hurting legs, Mama would shoo him out of the room so she could sleep.
A louder groan came from downstairs and before I knew what I was doing, I was already hurrying down the stairs, my bare feet slapping along the smooth and worn wooden steps. I followed the groans through the narrow hallway of our old house and into the living room where Daddy was standing before the unlit fireplace, his head against the bricks as he flexed and worked his legs.
"Daddy? Are you okay?"
My father's head came up and he looked at me, the pain evident in his eyes. "Hey, Pooh," Daddy replied, using the nickname he'd been calling me for as long as I could remember. My real name was Lillian, named after my maternal grandmother by Mama. Most people called me Lilly, but I liked it when Daddy called me Pooh. "I'm alright...just hurting a bit. Sorry if I woke you up."
I shook my head and came over to stand beside him, resting my hand on his shoulder. "No, I was studying, Daddy. I heard Mama...well, I heard you come down stairs. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Daddy shook his head and said, "No, honey. I just got to walk it out...let the muscles loosen on their own." He said it with a casual tone as if it was nothing, but I knew better. The last few months had been wearing on Daddy. There were dark circles under his blue eyes which were clouded with weariness and pain. His tall, lean frame which had always seemed so strong and formidable to me had become a little stooped lately.
"Daddy, are the doctors sure there's nothing else wrong with you...I mean, nothing really bad?"
My father winced a little before chuckling, putting on what I now knew was just his tough guy act, "Nothing, Pooh...I'm just getting old. Doctor Manning says it's just night cramps brought on from being on my feet so much and maybe stress or tension." He shrugged and said, "What can you do...just tough it out."
I couldn't help myself -- I just wrapped my arms as far as they would go around my father's waist and hugged him. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'd give anything to make you feel better."
I felt Daddy's body tense up as I pressed myself against him, pretty much as he'd done since I'd hit puberty and went from being his rough and tumble tomboy to suddenly becoming a young woman with all the accompanying curves. I squeezed a little tighter and then let him go, Daddy's face a little redder than before -- an almost guilty look on his face. Then another spasm of pain crossed his face and he grunted as he reached down to rub the top of his thigh.
Daddy was wearing an Atlanta Braves T-shirt and an oversized pair of white boxer shorts that had little Braves tomahawks all over them. They were a Christmas gift from me from the previous year. Daddy hated regular pajamas, but he liked these for sleeping in. I could see the muscles in Daddy's thighs knotting as they cramped.
I reached out with one hand and placed it lightly on my father's chest and said, "Maybe if we massaged your legs, that would help. We do that sometimes on the track team...working Charlie-horses out."
Daddy laughed and said, "I don't know...it's late and you need to get to bed. Tomorrow's a school day."
He seemed to be embarrassed by my offer, but I decided to insist. I grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the big overstuffed chair he always sat in while watching television. It was a well worn leather chair that we'd had for as long as I could remember and it had always been Daddy's chair. "No...I'm good, Daddy and I'm pretty good at this. We won't know unless we try!"
Daddy grunted with amusement at that. 'You won't know unless you try,' was one of his favorite sayings whenever me or my big sister Amelia had balked at doing something because we thought it was too difficult. With a resigned sigh, Daddy eased himself into the chair, wincing as his legs continued to cramp. I settled onto my knees between his legs which he had stretched out till they were almost straight -- the muscles of his calves and thighs bulging with knots.
"Just try and relax, Daddy...take deep breaths...breathe!" I urged him as I began kneading his left calf, working my fingers hard against the tight, oxygen starved tissue.
Daddy gave a little yelp as I put a lot of pressure on his legs, working on those knots. I'm not very big, but since I was twelve, I've worked part-time at Allen's Bakery downtown, kneading dough and working in their kitchen and anyone that knew me knew I had a strong grip. "Relax, Daddy," I repeated softly as I worked my way up from his calf to his thigh, my fingers squeezing and massaging his thigh muscles -- loosening them up. I stared up into his face and gave him a little smile, happy that I could maybe do anything for the man I admired most in the world.
To say I was a 'Daddy's girl,' was a bit of an understatement. I was the youngest child in the family. Mama and Daddy had had Amelia when they were both twenty-five, scarcely a year after they had been married. I'd been a bit of a shock when Mama became pregnant with me when they were thirty-seven. After eighteen years, I still think Mama hasn't forgiven me for showing up as late as I did We had never been close -- not like I knew she was with Amelia who she had always doted on. Even after Amelia got married when I was seven and left home for Atlanta, Mama's attentions were always turned towards my big sister.
Daddy, on the other hand, made it clear from my earliest memories on that I was the apple of his eye. I could do no wrong and he was never too tired or busy to pay me attention. He took me fishing, taught me to hunt, taught me to drive and almost every night throughout my childhood, would read me to sleep...usually something from my Winnie the Pooh books which I adored and from where he bestowed me with his pet name for me...Pooh. With the onset of young womanhood, Daddy had grown a little more distant, but he was still my champion...my hero...always ready to defend me when the usual battles between Mama and me, required it. He wasn't permissive, but he was fair and had long recognized that while Mama loved me...there was a little bit of a disconnect there.
I switched legs...now attending to Daddy's right leg, massaging the tight muscles as I carefully studied his face for signs of relief. "I love you, Daddy!" I said softly as I worked my fingers around his right thigh, rubbing and massaging the knots until my fingers ached.
Daddy, who'd had his eyes closed, opened them and looked back down at me between his legs, not saying anything for a long time as we gazed into each other's eyes. Finally, almost too soft to hear, Daddy replied, "I love you too, Pooh."
"Is it helping, Daddy? Are your cramps easing up any at all?"
Again, my father took his time in answering as if he was having trouble focusing. Finally, in a husky voice, Daddy said, "Yeah, Pooh...it...I'm feeling better!"
I broke eye contact with Daddy to look down and confirm that his muscles were relaxing, looking down just in time to see movement in his shorts and I stifled a gasp as I recognized the signs as a lump snaked its way down Daddy's right leg beneath his shorts.
I felt my own face burning as I processed the information that scant inches from my kneading fingers, my father was popping wood...that my beloved Daddy had a growing erection! I continued to work on his leg as my brain tried to process what was happening. I knew I wasn't imagining things. I'd wrestled and fooled around with my boyfriends enough times to recognize the signs of a growing cock when I saw it!
I tried to fumble for an answer that didn't sound stupid, but Daddy rescued me when he reached down and ran his fingers through my black, curly hair and said, "I think I can...sleep now, Pooh. I reckon its time we both got to bed." He finished his movement through my hair and dropped his hand over the bulge in his shorts in a mostly vain effort to hide his hard-on.
I continued to massage his thigh, watching as his covered penis continued to grow until it was just an inch or two from my kneading fingers. Finally, I nodded dumbly, brushing my black, curly locks out of my eyes and climbed to my feet. Daddy smiled wanly at me, his embarrassment etched clearly on his face.
In a slightly strained voice that was barely above a whisper, I managed to get out, "Well, good night, Daddy!" and turned and hurried out of the living room, suddenly aware that I was wearing pajama shorts that molded quite closely to my behind, leaving no doubt as to the shape and tightness of my cheeks as well as exposing my bare legs. It was only as I hit the steps, going up them two at a time that I looked down to see the top buttons of my pajama top unbuttoned, making me wonder how well Daddy had been able to see down my top as I knelt between his feet.
When I got inside my bedroom, I locked the door and flung myself face down on my bed, trying to cover-up my flaming face as I realized that I was responsible for giving my daddy a raging boner! "So stupid...stupid...stupid, Lillian." I moaned into the bedspread. What had I been thinking? What did I expect? An eighteen year old in a shorty-pajama oufit, kneels between her father's legs and rubs his calves and thighs while offering him a glimpse of her perky titties...of course he was bound to get an erection!
Groaning, I rolled over and sat up, staring at the full length mirror hanging on the closet door opposite of me. Silently, I mouthed the words, "You made your daddy's cock hard!" I studied myself. I'm no sex symbol, but I know that boys and even a few of my teachers consider me pretty. At eighteen, I'd reached my full height of five foot, five inches tall and at one hundred, thirty pounds, I possessed a curvy 34C-24-36 figure. I had Daddy's blue eyes, a smattering of freckles across my pert nose and a mop of short, unruly, black hair that always looked a little wild and framed my face -- often hanging down over one eye.
I looked down again at my partially unbuttoned top and then leaned forward to simulate how it might have hung open when I was rubbing Daddy's legs. "Oh, God!" I groaned as I realized that he had been able to see pretty much all of my tits including my now erect nipples, eraser-sized nubs that stuck out nearly half an inch. I shivered. Why were my nipples hard?
I looked at again into the mirror and as the shock of seeing my father sporting wood over me began to fade, I became more aware of my own physical reaction. My nipples ached, throbbing more as the image of that big lump in Daddy's shorts came to mind. I wriggled on the bed, suddenly spreading my legs and almost moaning as I felt my pussy lips open a little, feeling hot and sticky -- peeling apart in that most delicious way when one realizes one is aroused. "Fuck me...now I'm turned on!" I whispered as I again fell back into bed, scooting around until my head was on the pillow.
My mind was swirling as for the first time ever I was feeling horny over my father...my father! My thoughts were scattered as I kept seeing that lump growing in Daddy's shorts while my hands fluttered over my chest and somehow unbuttoned my top, letting it fall away as my hands cupped and kneaded my breasts, palms scraping wickedly over my hardened nipples.
I let my left hand tease and pinch my blood swollen nipples while my right hand snaked down over my bare stomach and slid under the elastic waistband of my pajama shorts and then under my panties. "Omigod!" I gasped as my fingers slipped through my trimmed black-haired bush to discover that my pussy was really, really wet. I bucked my hips upwards off the bed as two fingers slipped between my aroused labia.
Fireworks went off in my brain as I imagined my hands had slid further up Daddy's leg to touch his erection through his boxers. I quivered with naughty pleasure as I envisioned tugging those shorts off Daddy to reveal his big cock and I was sure he was big...bigger than Darrel Jones or Billy Taft. The bulge in Daddy's shorts had been bigger than either of the cocks I had actually touched since I turned eighteen.
I was already cumming before my brain could process a fantasy of what I would do after I had Daddy's cock in my hand and I clamped my thighs around my fingering hand while I rolled around on my bed, grabbing a stuffed Winnie the Pooh lying next to me and mashing it against my mouth as my orgasm exploded, muffling my cries of "Daddy!" as my body convulsed with lusty pleasure at the thought of touching my own father's erect penis.
I think the effort of thinking of my father in such a sinful way was too much for my mind and even as I gasped for breath in the sweet aftermath of my orgasm, my brain was shutting down and I fell asleep with my fingers still in my pussy, hugging my stuffed bear to my face. My dreams were a weird mishmash of Daddy and me in various places...both of us naked and Daddy chasing me -- a cartoon-like monster erection jutting out from his crotch...me always slowing down to let him catch me, but he never quite managing to do so.
"BREAKFAST...SCHOOL!" Daddy's voice bellowed through my door after he'd pounded on it a couple of times.
"S-fuh...okay, Daddy!" I mumbled back, slowly rolling into a sitting position on the side of the bed. I felt funny...out of sorts. I felt confused and horny and I sat sleepily staring at my right hand which seemed a little sticky and at my nipples which were stiff in the cool, morning air and which were more than a little sore. Last night came rushing back and I moaned again as I hit the floor and put on a robe before I headed for the bathroom and a quick shower.
Dressing took a bit longer as I debated on tops. I had planned to wear jeans and a black, lacy blouse that was a little low cut, but then reconsidered as it showed off the tops of my breasts. I changed into a more modest yellow blouse and was heading out the door when I stopped and changed back into the black blouse. Okay, last night had been a little weird, but I wasn't going to start dressing like a nun to avoid letting my father know I had tits.
Downstairs, Daddy was just plating up some scrambled eggs and as I slid into my usual spot at the kitchen table, he rumbled, "Good morning!"
"Morning, Daddy," I responded as he moved around the kitchen, putting the frying pan into the sink to soak and pausing to nibble at a piece of toast and sip at coffee, barely sparing me a glance. I tried to think if this was normal or if he was avoiding looking at me. "How did you sleep, Daddy?"
He paused and looked out the kitchen window for a moment before he turned and did look at me, a funny little smile on his face as he replied, "Y'know, Pooh -- I slept pretty good."
There was a sudden warmth in my gut that seemed to spread down between my legs and up into my breasts as his words both pleased me and revived the sudden strange arousal I had felt last night. As I felt my nipples harden against my bra, I said, "That's wonderful! I'll be glad to massage your legs again tonight!"
Daddy's smile got a little stranger and he downed his coffee nervously before he answered me, "Oh...I'm sure you don't have to do that, Pooh. I can't keep you up late...you're a growing...uh, girl and you need your sleep." He set his cup down and glanced up at that stupid kitty-kat clock on the wall. "It's time, I hit the road. Can't be late...you either."
He grabbed his lunchbox and came up behind me and I had to make an effort not to shiver as I felt his body leaning against the back of the chair and against me as he bent over and kissed me on the head. "Have a good day, Pooh!"
"You too, Daddy. Love you!" I replied as he hurried out the back door without a backwards glance as if he was embarrassed. I sat there for several minutes, letting my eggs grow cold as I tried to sort out the feelings I was having...knowing that I was definitely feeling turned on by my father.
"LILLIAN...HAVE YOU SEEN MY KEYS?" Mama's voice snapped the spell and things were suddenly normal again as Mama's usual daily routine began. Her tone of voice indicated that it was my job to keep up with her car keys and I sighed as I got up to find them so she didn't have a hissy fit before going to work as our town's second most successful insurance agent.
Her keys were where they usually were -- in the candy dish on the coffee table in the living room. I fished them out and went upstairs. "Here ya go, Mama," I said, holding them out.
Mama grabbed them out of my hand, murmuring, "Shit, I'm gonna be late."
I glanced at the clock on her bedside table and said, "Y'all got plenty of time, Mama." I hesitated for a moment and then decided to risk talking to my mother about Daddy. "Mama...are you sure Daddy's okay?"
My mother was shrugging on her suit jacket -- looking professional in a business skirt and blouse. Reaching up to pull her dark hair, liberally salted with gray, to tie it into a knot that was held together with a fancy clip, she glanced at me and said, "What are you talking about, Lillian?"
"Mama!" I replied in exasperation. "How much he's hurting at night...walking the floors till all hours."
Mama rolled her eyes and began putting her earrings on. "Your father is fine. He's just getting old...it happens. You wait and see, girl. Everyone gets old." She huffed as if she resented having to talk to me about it.
"I know, he told me it was just old age and stress. But...isn't there anything you can do?"
"Like what?" Mama asked, looking into her bureau mirror, using her fingers to adjust her hair.
"Well..." I took a deep breath as for the first time since Mama and I had the talk, I brought up a taboo subject. "Don't you ever...um, help him lose stress, you know...um, sex?"
Mama stood straight up and spun around, her face reddening with anger. "Lillian May Holland! You're presuming to ask me about your father's and my sex life? That's none of your damned business." Mama shouldered past me, grabbing her purse off the bed and slinging it over her shoulder. She stopped at the door and spun on her three inch high heels to glare at me. "I know you and that Billy Taft have fooled around. Just because you're eighteen and think you know everything about sex now - you wait until you're older and you've had a man grunting atop you for thirty years and see how you feel about sex."