The Unkindest Cut of All

[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS OVER THE AGE OF 18; NO EVENTS DESCRIBED ARE TRUE; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]

[Married daughter helps dad out after his prostate operation; problem is, it was vasectomy reversal and he has to control himself, at least during recovery.]

I knew I could count on my wonderful daughter Arlene to help her old dad out in a time like this. I had just had a 'procedure' done and I wasn't quite up to speed. When I told her that I was having an operation 'down there', she said to say no more. She would be heading to my place to help out.

Me: [at the front door] "Sweetheart, I can't believe that you are doing this. [I kiss her on the cheek.] It is such a relief to have someone like you that I can always count on."

Arlene: "Oh, daddy, you are so silly. Did you think I wouldn't help out? It's no bother; Francis is on another one of his month long tours of Asia to research a book or something, so I am quite available. This should work out perfectly, since a month should be about the time you need to get back to normal." [She puts her things in the guest room; hangs a few dresses; freshens up in the bathroom; comes back out to catch up...]

Me: "My God, we don't talk, you don't write, what in the world is happening in your world?"

Arlene: "To be honest, Francis doesn't let me write you or email you. He lives in his own little world. I know you were against me marrying him, but you did concede that with his family ties, he should be an island of plenty during these hard times. To be sure, we haven't had to struggle to make ends meet. I don't know how he does it, or if he does anything besides collect from the family. Of late, I have wondered about his constant trips. He goes to odd places, like the Greek islands, or Indonesia and Thailand. I don't ask him about what he does there because he ordered me not to ask. One day, however, I saw on his computer that he was part of a club that travels the world [She lowered her head in shame, with her voice choking] for unusual sex with questionable partners. I made a copy of his whole hard-drive—I have it in the car. I am not sure that I want to stay with someone who is so, umm, sick. He will fly to Bangkok to be with an underage male but has no interest in his wife or family. I actually wanted to be with you as much to discuss this as to help you convalesce."

Me: "I am stunned, sweetheart. Even when you date or marry someone for financial stability, you still expect a certain amount of decency. This lizard is below reproach. On the up side, your evidence on him is great. With the right law firm, getting passport records, you will have a field day in court. I will be there with a big tub of popcorn and a six pack of RC. What I want from you during this month before he gets home is an action plan to secure the best divorce in history. I will not let you go back to live with him for even 30 seconds...and that's daddy talking!"

Arlene: [Waving dismissively.] "Oh daddy, you're so funny! I am 28 years old. I think I am a little bit too old to send to bed. Besides, you look strong but I am in better shape than you. Here look!"

I guess I should have pointed out that Arlene had been a gymnast since she was seven. I watched her in high school almost religiously. I never ever thought of her as a woman out there until her senior year. She had just turned 18 and was on the balance beam. For years she had done that, but she always had her thighs wrapped and an ace bandage on both ankles for support. She avoided injury that way but was not exactly hot looking. Sad to say, judges are affected by that too, if only a little. But it's only a little that decides who wins.

When I saw her in the championship, an adult at last at 18, she had on a new suit, with really daring high leg cutouts. Seeing my baby's smooth thighs, gorgeous athletic legs, shapely calves, and lovely smooth feet, all uncovered, tanned, and even sparkling with a few touches of glitter...well...father or not, I got excited. When she hit the balance beam and did those leg spreads, I am ashamed to admit that I got 'inspired' by her...'inspired' to the point of being rock-hard. I never told her that, and hoped that I never had to.

Arlene had told me to look. Remember that I had just had a vasectomy reversal (though everyone thought I had had a prostate operation due to age; for some reason, I found that amusing and didn't want to disabuse them of that.) Anyway, Arlene did a hand stand and then did push-ups. Seeing her incredible body, slim and trim, strong and healthy, it was a wonderful tonic to a proud father. I knew that she deserved better than her last husband. I also knew that I had an ache down there that wasn't getting better watching the fittest woman in the city working out in front of me.

Me: "Honey, baby, that is very impressive. You are incredibly fit. I envy your next husband; you are going to wear him out. On the other hand, after my operation, I am not sure the doctor would want me getting up so soon."

Arlene: "OH, GOD, I am sorry. I had no idea that you would find your own daughter very se...well, I am sorry. Do you want me to dress like a nun, or what?"

Me: [laughing] "No, sweetheart, that's not necessary. I just wasn't prepared to see someone so incredibly fit, with such a fantastic figure, working out in person. Any man..."

Arlene: "Francis never said a word or even noticed!"

Me: "I was GOING to say that any man that can call himself a MAN would see that and get really stiff. The more I hear about your Francis I think the less I want to hear about him. I am no psychologist, but it sounds to me that he preferred younger or more masculine company to you. But, who among us is perfect, anyway?"

Arlene: "Oh, daddy, you ARE silly. I will confess that since our honeymoon, Francis and I hadn't done much of anything in the bedroom. We might have had ten 'meetings' there over seven years of marriage. These were when I was really in my cycle, if you know what I mean. He always seemed distracted and when he erupted, it was pathetic. It was a tiny outpouring from a tiny little spout. I always blamed myself for settling for this worm just for financial security. I knew that if my daddy knew all the details, he—I mean you would have been enraged."

Me: "All I know is that is all over now. Come here, baby. [I kissed her gently on the forehead.] From this moment on, you will not spend even a moment away from someone who appreciates you. For now, it's your pathetic, broken down old dad. Hopefully, we can find some young buck that is equally as loving as this old dad. I will see you tomorrow at breakfast. Feel free to wake me up."

We went to our respective rooms. I had to redo the bandage down there. Gosh that thing looked bad. The discoloration was normal, the doc told me. Still and all, it looked strange. I tried to go to sleep. I heard a shuffling in the house; the still night air allowing me to hear noise from the guest room. I got up and moved oh so slowly to peep on my baby. I got quite a shock.

Arlene, my precious daughter, was working out...in the nude! My heavens, she was 28 and obviously at her best. She still had her gymnast perfect body, five foot four, say 110 lbs., not exactly Pamela Anderson up top, but just like Bo Derek everywhere else. And toned! Doing a perfect split, she easily touched her pretty little toes, her feet pointed in fine form. I could only watch her for so long before I got that itch and pain from the operation. Lord knows how pent up I was getting from all of this.

The next day my daughter had to go shopping (HAD TO? Since when did anyone HAVE TO go shopping?), leaving me alone to round up a good divorce lawyer for her. I also woke up sore down there from watching her work out, so I had to be careful. I already made several mistakes: I put on the Fitness Channel where a line of gorgeous babes were doing yoga...ouch...I turned for news...oops, it's THAT channel, with infobabes sitting on stools. And here's the news tonight: I got a bikini wax, as you can see....ouch...better turn to the weather channel—THAT will be safe! Yes, the weather...ah...wait, no! The new weather babe is wearing a skin tight dress...now she's pointing to the central part—of her! I presume it IS warm and damp there, yes I have visited that region before, thank you. You don't have to keep pointing to it. Is there NO channel a man can watch that has to be careful about getting 'up'? Besides Sesame Street? I could try Friends, but the TV guide doesn't warn you whether Jennifer Anniston is wearing a bra in this episode; better stick with The Golden Girls. Ah, what a relief. Now to wait for my daughter to get home for dinner.

Arlene: "I am sorry I am so late. I will get to dinner in a second. I just bought a whole new wardrobe from the money you gave me. If I am to start a new life, I have to have new clothes, don't I? I will show you some of them, if it's ok?"

Me: "Sure thing, honey." [I really preferred dinner to seeing how much of my money she spent, not to say wasted, on clothes she will wear once, at the most.]

She came out in a grey wool pantsuit for that professional look (I guess.) I applauded, to her amusement. Next was a secretary's type of dress, like the pantsuit, but with a flirtatious skirt, say eight inches above the knee. Ouch. Then a sun dress, floral, yellow, with a bare midriff, very short skirt, nice. For the beach, a Catalina one piece, a bikini, and then a thong bikini. Double ouch. I actually winced.

Arlene: "Oh, daddy, I keep forgetting. I never think of you as a man, only as a father. I should realize that any man might like this string bikini, maybe a little too much. Maybe I should just get to making dinner and leave these in their boxes until later." [I smiled and nodded. I was thinking, 'any man'? I should have told her, 'baby, with your incredible figure, all men, and many women, would get excited seeing you in that suit.']

After a great meal of veal Milanese, garden peas, salad, and pink Chablis, we retired to the living room.

Arlene: "So what did you do on the divorce front?"

Me: "Well in between watching the decline of western man on TV—I will explain later—I made some real progress. My law firm sent someone over. I told them everything including the hard-drive info. They said that they can get everything done tomorrow! They said they can promise that because his family's law-firm has a general partner who used to work for them. They always do joint work in hours, not weeks." [Arlene was ecstatic and ran up to me and kissed me. I was stunned, because it was a real kiss. She was equally shocked at herself. I stood up, grabbed her gorgeous face in my hands, and kissed her with as much love and passion as anyone has ever done. I was going to pay for this in the morning down there, but I loved my little baby so much. The temperature in the room went from 68F to about 10,000C. It was bed time and my darling daughter bowed her head as she retreated to the guest room. She WAS still a married woman, after all.]

The next day, Arlene was careful to be home after shopping at a respectable 4pm. At 5:35pm a courier came. Courier? It was one of the partners. We all hugged at the door. She gave me a bottle of Courvoisier, a pile of papers, and a bill. We thanked her and left.

The bill had legal fees of $150,000(!)...plus a charge for delivery AND that bottle of bubbly!! Where's my shotgun? Before my circuits blew, Arlene had the good sense to open the package. If my baby would sign and return the notarized forms, she was going to get $950,000 in settlement from Francis (really his family) for the divorce settlement. Let's be frank (pun intended): it was hush money for her. The law firm would surrender that hard-drive copy (shhh! I had her make another back-up copy just in case...), you know the one with all those trips to Thailand and other odd sexcation spots. There also were some disturbing twitter and Facebook entries that I just as soon not think about.

Arlene was mildly pleased with the terms. By that I mean, she jumped 12 feet in place, hugged me with a bear-like grip, and beamed from ear to ear. She did a perfect walkover, cartwheel, and finally a handstand against the wall.

Arlene: "Oh, daddy, you did it! I am free, not only from him, but free from worrying about my day to day living. I am so glad that I came home to take care of you...which ended up with you taking care of me! Is there anything I can do for you?"

Me: [I motioned her to come over to me.] "Sweetheart, when we kissed last night, I am ashamed to admit it, but that was one of the nicest things I had ever felt in my life. I was hoping that, well, we could maybe sleep in the same room, maybe with two beds..."

Arlene: "Oh daddy, you're so sweet. Of course we can do that! I'm not a married woman anymore! I'm foot loose, fancy free, and well over 18. Tonight we can do that. That way, we can watch the same TV just before sleep. Oh, it will be much better than separate everything. You said you have to see your doctor this afternoon about your operation?"

Me: "Yes; he will take off the bandage—hopefully for good. Then he will check to see how it all functions. With any luck, I will be as good as new." [Arlene kissed me, gently and with tears.]

Arlene: [Whispering.] "Good luck, dad. I hope it came out okay...will see you when you get home."

Up until then, I hadn't told her the exact nature of my operation. Anyway, the doctor took some sort of scan that was amazingly detailed. He said that it was impossible to know at this early stage, but I should be okay. The important thing was the stitches were out. The unit was good to go, and I was free to do whatever.

That night, after a good meal, we had a solid round of video games where my ungrateful daughter destroyed me in record time. We then retired for our first night of sleeping together. It actually was a little uncomfortable for both of us. Sure, Arlene was just freed from her terrible marriage. And yes, I was just freed from the bounds of my operation. But, our love as father and daughter didn't define our relationship anymore. So, as I lay in bed in my boxer shorts, I was, frankly, nervous. My darling daughter came out from the bathroom, the soft light suffused and illuminating the pink see-thru gauze. What a figure...I was so proud. And then, OUCH, I was so hard. I looked under the covers and for the first time in weeks, my unit was free and could respond. It was such a relief. I was so pent-up in love and passion. Mr. Johnson was at record levels, well above my navel. God, I must have been my usual nine, or even ten inches of forged steel. I was ready!

My gorgeous loving daughter approached in that baby doll peignoir. It went down to her blonde muff, but no lower. Her tanned legs were oh so perfect. Instead of slippers, she just walked on tiptoes, her gorgeous smooth feet with delicate pink painted toes just adding to the impact of those fantastic legs. I was so aching...so many weeks. Here, with my baby...she was so fit...so healthy...so perfect. But, I was also a father and would not force myself on my innocent darling. We were simply sleeping together for companionship. Really.

Arlene: [In bed, she reached over to my side and kissed my forehead.] "Daddy, you have been so good to me. I came here to help you, and now I am free of a twisted husband, I have $800,000 in the bank after attorney fees, a new wardrobe, and a new life ahead of me. I'm 28 and that's not too old to start anew. The only thing that I wish I had already was a family. I see my school friends, all with families. I wanted so much to have my own family, maybe a really big one, with ten children. I wanted so much to have my belly swollen with the child of the man that loves me. I'd let my man breastfeed alongside the baby. God, just the feeling of his warm seed, filling up my unprotected womb, knowing that he wanted to make a baby with me. The feel of a hard cock as it scraped away at my tender, sensitive insides, just before it swelled up and popped. I guess I shouldn't say this, now that you had that prostate operation and can't do it anymore. I feel so safe knowing that, though."

Me: "Honey, I never corrected you like I should have. I didn't have a prostate operation. That thing is fine. No, I had a vasectomy REVERSAL. The doctor said it looks fine; in fact, I should have twice the normal function there, delivering four times the volume."

I would never ever forget it. My daughter was ashen silent. She turned away from me in shock retreating to her side of the bed. I was certain that she would quietly leave the bed, then my home. For forty-five minutes (I know, I checked), there were no sounds, no movement, nothing. Then, I heard the gentle sound of my precious darling as she moved towards me. My heart was in mid-air as I held my breath.

Arlene put a small soft hand around my mighty ten inch staff. Her other small hand cupped my family jewels. The upper hand constantly smoothed, felt, almost like shaping clay, she handled my powerful cock. The other hand felt, weighed, jiggled, and finally held my testes. Her hand could feel how swollen they were, so much pent-up excitement.

Arlene: "Heavens, daddy. You are SO BIG. You are three, four times the size of that little worm Francis. And your things down below. I'm no expert, but they shouldn't be so very big, so unbelievably full, so amazingly heavy. So much seed, so much sperm. It's not natural. I never went to med school, but I think the natural thing to do is for this 'penis' to release some of that seed in its natural place. From what little I know about sex, the natural place for it to do that is in a vagina. And, since the only vagina around here is mine, well, I guess we will have to do that. So, get up daddy, time to release some of that ocean of sperm. You are free to use me to empty a gallon or two, but no more."

Me: "Are you on the pill, or using a diaphragm?"

Arlene: "No, daddy, I am totally unprotected? Does that bother you?"

Me: "Sweetheart, I am a man. That would only bother a sissy. No, a man finds that irresistible. Unless you say stop, I am going to love you like no man has ever loved any woman. We won't stop, and no prisoners will be taken. I just wanted you to know up front; after this operation, I should be MORE potent, not less. I may be pumping two, maybe four, times as much potent sperm inside of you as a normal man. My intention will be to get you pregnant. I make no apologies. If you stay with me in this bed tonight, so help me, I will fuck the holy hell out of you until sperm is dripping out of both your ears. My swollen balls will pump and pump and pump until your precious egg is fertilized. You will get pregnant; you will carry that fetus to term; you will give birth. Now, your decision; leave with no ill feelings, with all my love...or stay and face an onslaught of sex that few have ever seen. I will wait for your decision."

Talk about tension and indecision. The air was totally still for about ten minutes. Then, a gentle movement. Arlene bent over and kissed my lips. Was that a kiss goodnight, or 'let the good times roll'? I got my answer when she key-holed my big cock and cupped the family jewels. I was so happy. I let her yank my crank for a few seconds, but that was unnecessary. I was as hard as a stone already. I pushed her onto her back. On my knees above her, I proudly flexed my muscles, feeling the pride of conquest (Daughter or not, she WAS a spectacular beauty, after all. And, more importantly, we WERE about to do this bareback.)

I got on all fours right above her. Hovering there, I bent down and told my baby:

Me: "Sweetheart, I want you to take that nasty big snake of daddy and use it to touch yourself in every place...please honey...make yourself happy."