A Sensual Education Pt. 02

CHAPTER 7 - A Bed-time Story (Gabby learns a little about her mother)

Gabby had sucked her father's dick to its full height, stroking his beautiful balls as her head lay against his belly. How she loved having that rod in her mouth, swirling her tongue around its firm flesh as her father's tension rose until at last he grasped her head, thrust with his hips, and a torrent of his creamy essence exploded from it.

But now she was torn, for much as she loved sucking him off, the itching in her groin tonight had become more insistent, and she knew that she wanted—she needed—to impale herself upon that powerful pole, to feel it stretch the walls of her pussy as she ground her clit against him until both their bodies throbbed and pulsed in love's climax. She moved her right hand from his balls and began rubbing her clit, then fingered her labia, spreading the grateful moisture her body was already supplying so copiously. One finger slid in easily, then a second, and she stroked in and out a few times while her thumb pressed and rubbed her clitoris.

Fully prepared, she quickly clambered astride him, and with her left hand holding his shaft, directed his large, strong cock into her snatch. First just the head, teasingly, and she raised herself off him, then back down, the head re-entering, followed by an inch or two of the shaft. Up again, her father gasping with pleasure at the friction as his cockhead once more withdrew from her pussy, then back down as she buried the entire shaft within her cunt. Pressing her hands against his chest, she rocked her hips and ground her clit against him. Leaning forward, she kissed him deeply, then brought his hand to her mouth, sucked his middle finger to wet it with her saliva and moved it to her lovely rump.

Her father understood immediately, and began probing her butthole. The tip encountered only slight initial resistance, and after a few strokes his finger was fully buried in her backdoor. Clutching her to him with his left arm, his hips thrust urgently toward her, as his body tried to get even more than all of his cock within her. And then Gabby was crying out, and his passion overflowed, his cum spurting deep into his beautiful daughter.

She lay atop him, both of them utterly spent, his softening cock still within her cunt, his strong middle finger still within her ass.

"Daddy," she asked softly, "could Ricky join us sometime, so the three of us could fuck?"

"Would you like that, pumpkin? Would Rick like that?"

"I know I'd love it. I love when we fuck, and I've always loved fucking Rick. Sometimes, he'll fuck me in the ass while I use a dildo, and I think it would be so much better having real cocks in both holes instead. So it's okay with you if I ask him?"

"Of course, sweetheart. Making you and Rick happy is the most important thing to me." He smiled and gently stroked her cheek. "Have you ever discussed this idea with Rick?"

Gabby frowned slightly. "Well, no, we've never talked about it. But he always loved it when we'd fuck with Michelle, and the time Jen spent the weekend with us."

Dr Grant nodded. "Yes, most men love getting attention from two beautiful girls, and seeing the girls making love to each other. But a threesome involving another man? Men aren't always comfortable with that idea, even if the other man isn't a blood relative."

"But why is that? Why is there such a double standard? Why do guys think it's so hot for girls to have sex together but not guys? I love sucking dick and eating pussy, and I love seeing other girls do both, and guys too. Why isn't it the same for guys? Aren't we all just people?"

Her father shook his head. "I'm not sure why, pumpkin. It's not a prejudice I share, though it certainly does exist. It's pretty common, in fact. I hope your brother is more broad-minded than that, for your sake and his own. I would hate to think he would miss out on a harmless pleasure because of some antiquated taboo." He caressed Gabby's lovely breast and kissed her on the nose. "But you need to talk to Rick about it, and make sure it's something he'd like to do."

Gabby looked at him shyly. "Couldn't you talk to him, Daddy?"

"Dearest, whose idea was it for you and me to sleep together?"

"Mine."

"Had we ever talked about it? Had you ever felt that I thought of you sexually?"

"No, never."

"Why was that?"

Gabby closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Because you didn't want me to feel awkward, to feel that I had to either please you or risk disappointing you."

"And shouldn't it be the same for Rick? Don't you think it should be his choice?"

"I suppose so Daddy." She put her hand on his, the hand which was still on her ass, its middle finger still in her butt-hole, and pressed it. "But do I get to try to talk him into it?"

The warmth of the conversation, and of his daughter's ass as she pressed his middle finger into herself, were causing Dr Grant's cock to stiffen again, and he sighed with pleasure before answering. "You're certainly free to tell him what you'd like, pumpkin. And that I want the two of you to be happy. But let him know that neither of us want him to do anything he's not comfortable with."

Gabby, feeling the renewed firmness of her father's prick, began moving her hips as she lay atop him, and the doctor's hips began rocking as well. She took his face in both her hands and kissed him deeply as their passion rose once more. Their rocking intensified, the father's cock filling his daughter's cunt, the hunger of her pussy increasing as his prick grew. The finger fucking Gabby's asshole, the cock filling her cunt, seemed to merge, she was no longer being pleasured in separate places, she simply was pleasure. And then her father gasped as his cum spurted once more inside her throbbing cunt, and he kissed her hair as her head rested on his chest.

After a few moments, Gabby spoke softly. "Oh Daddy, I hope Ricky will want to join us. Not just so we can do a DP. It would be so great to see him suck your dick. I just know that if he ever does, he'll love it as much as I do."

"Dearest, if your brother loves you half as much as I think he does, I doubt you'll have any trouble convincing him. Just remember, with great power comes great responsibility. Use your power wisely. Be gentle with Rick, and I'm sure you'll get your way."

Gabby kissed him gratefully, and the two slowly drifted off to sleep, the father cradling his loving daughter in his arms.

Morning came all too quickly, and Dr Grant had to rise in order to get ready for work. Gently kissing his young daughter, he whispered,"Sorry, sleepy head, daddy has to go to work," as he slid from under her. "But you stay here as long as you like."

Gabby opened one eye, yawned and stretched as she watched her father's trim butt disappear into the bathroom. Slowly, she climbed out of bed, thinking she'd go to her own bathroom to begin getting ready for her day, but on her way to the door she paused by her father's dresser. Like the rest of her father's life—indeed, like her father's mind—it was orderly and uncluttered. Ranged across the surface were several small picture frames, with photos of the doctor and his family. There were of course pictures of Gabby and Rick at different ages, and of the three Grants together, and a lovely picture of Michelle which Rick had taken just a few months before she'd left them. But behind these were a number of older pictures. One in particular always made Gabby pause. There was a tall man, young but still recognizable as Dr Marston Grant. In front of him were two very small children, a boy and girl perhaps eighteen or nineteen months old, in a two-seat stroller. Next to the man, her left arm around his waist, her right hand on his chest, was a beautiful young woman. Gabby glanced at herself in the mirror, then returned her gaze to the picture. "Hi Mom," she said softly. "Miss you. People say I look a lot like you, but I think they're exaggerating. I wish it were true, though, because you're so beautiful." She picked up the picture, kissed it, then set it back down and headed to her room.

That night, there were only two for dinner at the Grant house. Rick was up at the north end of the island, helping Dr Weiss to install some equipment for one of Dr Zimmer's experiments, and wasn't expected back until quite late. Indeed, if things went as well as Rick hoped, he'd intimated to Gabby earlier, he and Dr Weiss—Julia—would be spending the night together. Gabby had wished him well. "Good luck," she'd said. "You'll need it."

"What? Do you think she's out of my league?"

"If you were seven years older, she'd be out of your league. As it is, I don't think you're even playing the same game."

"Huh. We'll see about that, missy."

"Go, prove me wrong," Gabby said as she kissed him good-bye.

Father and daughter were quiet through much of their meal, the occasional smile or brief touch on hand or arm providing all the conversational reassurance either required. But after a while, when she was almost done eating, Gabby said, "Daddy? Tell me about Mom."

"What would you like to know, pumpkin?"

"I don't know...How did you meet? What was she like? What...plans did she have?"

Dr Grant smiled. "In other words, everything."

"I guess so," laughed Gabby. "I remember you used to tell us things when we were little, about how she'd read to us, or the songs she'd sing. But there's so much more I'd like to know! I've wondered for a long time, but Rick and I always thought we shouldn't ask too much, that it might be hard for you to talk about."

"Oh sweetheart, no! I love remembering your mother, thinking about her. Of course I miss her, and it's painful that she died so young, but I'm so lucky that she left me you and Rick." He smiled, somewhat sadly, and shook his head. "You remind me so much of her. The way you look, your kindness and thoughtfulness, your laugh. When I hear you laugh, it's like she's in the room."

"I love that picture you have on your dresser, the one of the four of us? She looked so happy, so beautiful."

"She was beautiful, and I think she was happy too." He paused briefly. "That picture's very special to me. Dell Keller took that picture for us."

"Dr Keller? Jen's dad?"

"That's right. It was just a couple of days before he left to take a job in San Diego. Three weeks before your mother's accident."

Gabby reached out and touched her father's arm. "I'm so sorry. That's awful."

"No sweetie! It would be awful if I didn't have the picture, so you couldn't see how beautiful your mother was, and how much she loved life. How much she loved you."

Both were quiet for a moment, then Gabby said, "So you were friends with Dr Keller before he came to work for the Foundation?"

"Dell? Oh, sure. We'd become friends when we were in grad school."

Gabby nodded. "And Mom? How did you two meet?"

Dr Grant chuckled. "So, you want to know the whole story of Marty Grant, the luckiest guy in the state of New Jersey, and his beloved, Emma Woodley? I tell you what, pumpkin, I have some work I've got to get done after we get this dinner cleaned up, but then we can make an early night of it and curl up together and I'll tell you a bed-time story."

Gabby laughed. "Okay, okay, chores first, then we snuggle." Her father nodded. "Daddy?"

"Yes?"

She put her arms around him and leaned her head against his chest. "I love it when you call me pumpkin."

Two hours later, Dr Grant said, "Now, where were we?" as Gabby nestled against him in his bed. "How did your mother and I meet, right?"

"Yes please. The whole story."

"Okay. So, I was in grad school, and I was a teaching assistant. Conducted some of the classes, met with students who had questions too basic for the professor to be bothered with, did a preliminary look at all the tests and assignments that were handed in before the professor did the final grading. Anyway, in one section there was this very pretty girl-"

"Mom?" asked Gabby.

"No interruptions please, miss, the storyteller works at his own pace."

"Sorry."

"So, there was this very pretty girl, but since I was a generally conscientious TA, I knew it would be totally inappropriate for me to see this girl socially while she was taking the class." He sighed and shook his head. "That term was very long. Extremely long. I'd say interminable, but it did finally end. So. The term ended, the new term was beginning, and I checked the rosters for the classes I would be assisting with. Imagine my relief when I saw that the girl I wanted to date wasn't in any of them. Now I just had to figure out some way to find her, introduce myself as a person rather than a TA, and ask her out."

"Couldn't you just look her up online? Didn't the school have a directory?"

"I'll ignore the fact that you interrupted me again, because I'm flattered that you think I'm that young. This was long ago, dear—think the dark ages—before there was an internet. Before everyone shared their personal details with everyone, before everyone carried a telephone with them everywhere they went. Undergrads didn't even have phones in their rooms; there'd be a pay phone down the hall, so you couldn't look up a number or call anyone unless you already knew what floor of which dorm they lived on. And the administration looked askance at grad students asking for information about random undergrads. No, I had to find her the old fashioned way, by keeping my eyes open, walking around a lot between classes, checking the library at different times."

"Sounds hopeless."

"Well, it pretty much was. I'd had no luck at all and was getting quite discouraged. Then, one day, two or three weeks into the term, I was leading a class discussion and happened to walk toward the door of the classroom while I was making a point to the group. And there she was, just walking by the room. I was stunned for a moment, but recovered enough to say 'Excuse me a second!' to the class and dashed out to catch her.

"She was almost to the end of the hall when I called her name. She turned, looking slightly annoyed, and I was sure it was all over. But then she saw it was me, she smiled (what a relief that was!), and walked back toward me. 'Hi Professor Grant,' she said. 'How are you?' Well, I had to say I was fine and ask how she was, but I also had to remind her that I was nothing so lofty as a professor, and she should just call me Marty, and then asked her where she was off to. And she said she was just going back to her dorm because the person she was supposed to meet hadn't shown up. And I said, oh, could she wait a few minutes, my class was almost done, I'd like to talk with her for a bit and catch up. She said okay, and I went back, wrapped up the class discussion, and made everybody happy by dismissing them ten minutes early.

"I went back out, and there was Greta-"

"Wait! Greta? I thought this was Mom?" said Gabby.

"I never said this was your mother. I said it was a pretty girl—and she was quite pretty, still is as a matter of fact—who I hoped to date. Now, no jumping to conclusions, and no more interruptions please."

"Sorry Daddy. But just a second...you said Greta. You mean Mrs Keller? Jen's mom?"

Dr Grant laughed. "When you go to the theatre, do you interrogate the actors like this? Yes, the pretty girl I'd been looking all over for was Greta Arnesen, who later became Greta Keller. Now, may I continue?"

"Sorry," whispered Gabby, and put her finger on her lips.

"There was Greta, and we started talking, but after a moment she said she had to get back to her dorm. So I said, in my most proper manner, May I see you to your door? She chuckled, said okay, and we started walking back to her dorm. I asked about the classes she was taking, and how she'd done the previous semester, and what her major was, and what she'd done during the term break, anything I could think of to avoid falling into a deathly silence. I was so nervous! I'd been thinking about this girl for four months, and I'd been falling in love with her, or rather, with my dream of her, that whole time. Once I got beyond all the mundane questions I'd peppered her with I had no idea what to say. Quick word of advice, pumpkin: always get to know somebody before you fall in love with them. The reverse just doesn't work.

"Luckily for me, my questions, and her answers, lasted until we got back to her dorm. Room 635. I still remember that; I've thought of it as my lucky number ever since. We said good-bye, and I walked away so pleased, until I realized that I hadn't actually asked her out, or gotten anything more than a vague 'see you around' from her. But now I knew where she lived, so at least I'd be able to find her again.

"I waited a couple of days, which was hard to do, even though between my own course work and my teaching duties I was busy pretty much all day, every day, before I decided to go back to say hi to Greta. I had a break of an hour or so in the early afternoon—I should've been preparing for my next class, but I wasn't able to concentrate on it anyway—so I went back to Greta's room. Knocked on the door, a voice called 'Come in,' but when I opened the door, Greta wasn't there. Just her roommate. I said, ah, you must be Emma, and introduced myself. We chatted a bit, and when it became clear that Greta was in fact out, not just hiding in the closet, and Emma had no idea when she might be back, we said good-bye and I left.

"A few days later I tried again, again no Greta, but I stayed and chatted with Emma again, a little longer this time, and decided she was nice, and interesting, and attractive. Every few days I would try again, almost never finding Greta in her room—and when I did, there was always a tiny bit of small talk surrounded by long, uncomfortable silences—until one day, after three or four weeks of this, I realized that I wasn't going there hoping to find Greta; I was going to see Emma.

"What a weight off my mind that was! I'd spent so long thinking about Greta, imagining who she was, that I'd convinced myself I was in love with her, and because of that I was too nervous to have even the simplest conversation with her. But Emma, I'd had no thought of her before we met, I had no expectations or preconceptions, I'd just accepted her for who she was. And who she was was this quiet, intelligent, thoughtful, beautiful young woman...whom I loved. The realization floored me, and all at once, the most important question in my life became, could Emma Woodley love me?"

He was silent for a few moments. Gabby smiled up at him and caressed his cheek. "I suppose you know the answer to that, sweetheart. But would you like to hear more of the story?"

"Yes, please, Daddy. I want to hear it all."

Dr Grant smiled at his daughter and kissed her softly before continuing. "So, having realized what the question was, it became urgent that I try to get the answer before it was too late. It wasn't possible that such a beautiful girl didn't have hordes of eager young men hoping to impress her, so I knew I'd better act fast. First chance I got, I went over to her room to ask her out. Of course, when I arrived, this was the time that Emma wasn't in. Only Greta.

"Now, this was awkward for me. I was sure that Greta knew—she had to know, didn't she?—that I'd been trying to muster the courage to ask her out. And now here we were, only I was quite obviously disappointed that Emma wasn't there. Certainly, if I'd still wanted to go out with Greta, and if she'd ever thought of me as anything more than the former TA who had unaccountably been haunting her dorm room for the last six weeks, my hesitation and downcast look would've ended my chances completely. Oh, sure, she said, she'd let Emma know I'd come by. Anything else?