Father and Daughter share a bed

"You should go with her."

"No, I don't have the time. I need to finish the painting by the end of the week."

"Take it with you."

I hadn't thought of that. Sophia was right, it could be completed anywhere. Sir Cedric Pattinson had commissioned me to do a painting of his prize horse, 'Lansdowne Lad'.

I had spent yesterday at the stables, taking all the photos that I needed, so I was ready to start. But would it be better if I stayed at home, without any distractions?

"I'll think about it."

Then our Daughter joined us.

"What have you two been talking about?"

"That course you are on. Your Mother thinks I should come with you."

Emma squealed with delight, and then she gave me a tight hug. I had to push her away so that I could breathe.

"Thanks Daddy. That's made my day."

I looked over at Sophia, and she was smiling. I'll think about it, had just become a yes.

Now that it had been decided, I needed to call the hotel and book a room. That might be a problem, so I rang them straight away.

"You need a single room for six nights, starting tomorrow. Is that right?"

"Yes. My Daughter already has a reservation. Emma Wilkinson."

"We are very busy, but let me check. I'll put you on hold."

It was a while before he spoke again.

"You're in luck. There was only one room available, and now it's yours."

The next day we had a late breakfast, and then we set off at midday. It was Sunday, so we weren't expecting a lot of traffic, but it was still going to be at least a five hour drive.

It ended up being nearly six.

"Hi, Walt and Emma Wilkinson."

I got a big smile from the receptionist, but it quickly turned into a frown when he checked our reservations.

I looked at Emma, I could see that she was as concerned as I was.

"We have had a problem with the East Wing early on today. A small fire," then he quickly added, "But there is no danger now. However, it's closed until further notice."

His smile was back, but it was now forced.

"So what are you trying to tell me?"

"Don't worry Mr. Wilkinson, we do have a room."

Both of us picked up on the 'a'.

"We have put in a fold up bed."

He was now looking at me, waiting for a reaction, and I could tell he was worried. It wasn't ideal, but it wasn't the end of the world, so I decided to cut him some slack.

I gave him my best smile, and then I said, "I'm sure we can manage."

That took him by surprise, and he was lost for words, until he said, "Thank you," and I could tell that he meant it.

We decided to leave everything in the car, and go and see the room first. It was nice, but it lacked character. Functional, was the best way to describe it. However, I didn't mind. It met our needs. That's what I thought until I tried my bed. It was a bit too short for me, and it wasn't that comfortable. What had I said to Craig at reception?

"I'm sure we can manage."

Emma could, in that big bed of hers, but now I wasn't sure that I could.

After getting all our stuff from the car, we decided to eat. The hotel had a restaurant, and it was supposed to be very good.

"Do you have a reservation?"

"No. Is that a problem?"

The maître d' gave me a look that said, "Nothing is ever a problem," and then he smiled before saying, "I will take you to your table."

We took our time choosing the wine, and even longer selecting the food.

"You haven't told me anything about the course."

"That's because you never asked."

She had been smiling when she said it, but her face became serious when she started explaining the course to me. I tried to look interested, and I really tried to understand it, but I failed on both counts. She worked for a large multinational investment bank. The course was to help her with her ambition, of one day becoming a Derivatives Trader. After only five minutes I had to stop her.

I shook my head, then I said, "That's as much as I can take. You get your brains from your Mother, not me."

She laughed, then her serious face was back.

"Daddy, you're not stupid."

"I know, but your Mother is the clever one."

Then the main course arrived. As we ate, I thought about Sophia. We had met at a party when I was twenty one, and as soon as I saw her I wanted her in my bed. She was beautiful, but after talking to her, I realised that she was also very clever. Somehow I managed to charm her, and she agreed to see me again. I couldn't believe my luck. I was a beach bum, scratching a living as an artist. If I sold more than one painting in a week, it was a good week. She was older than me, twenty nine, and she had a proper job. She was an Accountant.

"You're not eating. Your food is going cold."

"I was just thinking about your Mother, and the first time I saw her. You are a lot like her."

That pleased her.

"Daddy, can I ask you something?"

I just nodded.

"Why did she agree to marry you?"

She was trying to keep a straight face, but I could see the hint of a smile, so I knew she was teasing me.

I shrugged my shoulders, and then I said, "I have no idea."

That made her laugh, and then she reached over and held my hand.

"I'm glad she did."

While we were waiting for dessert, I thought about what Emma had said. I had once asked Sophia why she had married me. She thought about it for a while, and then she had said.

"Your rugged good looks. Your sweet personality," then she looked down at my crotch, before adding, "And your eight inch cock."

She wasn't laughing, so I knew she was being serious.

"That's not enough for a good marriage."

This time she did laugh, before saying, "It is for me. Especially that big cock of yours."

We then surprised a lot of people, probably ourselves as well, by staying married. I was now forty three, and Sophia fifty one. Some of the passion between us had gone, and that big cock of mine wasn't getting as much action as it would like, but it was more than made up for by having Emma. She was twenty one now, and she was our pride and joy.

After finishing the meal, we went to the bar. I made a couple of beers last a long time, and Emma stuck to coke.

We got back to our room at ten.

"I need to go to sleep. That course tomorrow is tough, so I need to be at my best."

"OK. If you change in the bathroom, I'll change here."

It didn't take me long to get ready, but it was fifteen minutes before Emma came out of the bathroom. She was wearing one of the dressing gowns that the hotel provides. When she got to the bed, she untied it, and it slipped from her shoulders onto the floor. As she got into bed, I looked away, but I had briefly seen what she was wearing. Then when I turned my head back, I saw more, because she was getting out of bed.

"I forgot my phone."

Then, without the dressing gown on, she walked towards the bathroom. I couldn't take my eyes off her. She was wearing a low cut bra, and small tight knickers. She wasn't there long, and as she walked back to the bed, I watched every step she made. When she got to the bed, she didn't get in, instead she sat on the edge of it, facing me.

"I'm nervous about tomorrow."

"You'll be OK."

"I know, but this course is important to me."

Then I couldn't help it. I looked at her breasts. There was a lot of cleavage on display, and I could even see the outline of her nipples. I knew that I was staring, but I couldn't help it.

"Daddy, I can tell that you don't approve of what I am wearing."

She must have seen me looking. But it wasn't disapproval I was feeling, it was something else. My mouth was dry, and I had to swallow before answering.

"I guess it's what somebody who is twenty one wears," then I shook my head before saying, "It's not what your Mother wears to bed."

That made her laugh.

"But she is old, very old."

I just smiled. I didn't regard fifty one as being old, but obviously she did. She then stood up. When she was back in bed, I got out of mine, and I turned the light off.

"Daddy?"

"Yes."

"You're lucky that I didn't shock you."

"What do you mean?"

"Because normally I don't wear anything in bed," then she giggled.

"Good night Emma!"

She giggled again, and as she did, I felt my cock stiffening.

When I had seen her in her revealing underwear, she had reminded me of Sophia when we first met. Nice size breasts, a slim waist, and a full bottom. What Emma was wearing, was something that her Mother would have worn at one time, but not now. However, that wasn't the problem. It was the lack of excitement in our marriage, especially in the bedroom, that was the problem. Sex was now once a week, normally on Saturday night. It was good, but not special. We made love like two well-oiled machines. We both knew what buttons to press to get the other going, but we had pressed them too many times. The spontaneity had gone. Sometimes I just wanted to climax so that I could go to sleep.

Seeing Emma like that, had made me yearn for those early years with Sophia. I tried not to think about it, but it was difficult. I thought I was never going to be able to sleep, but eventually I did.

When I woke, it was early, and my body was stiff. Then, when I got out of bed, I had to sit back down again. My back was sore. It felt as if I had been kicked by a horse. That made me think of Lansdowne Lad, and the painting that I needed to start today. Should I leave it until Tuesday? No, I really needed to get on with it. I was forty three, and only just getting a name as an artist. This painting could be a turning point. I was never going to be a Francis Bacon, making mountains of money, but I could become well-known. Up until now, Sophia has been the main bread-winner. Whatever meagre amounts I have earned, have just been a bonus. If this painting was well received, what I could charge would increase, and so would my self-worth.

I took a long shower, enjoying the hot water on my aching back. Then, after dressing in the bathroom, I went back to the bedroom. Emma was now awake, and sitting up. Her bottom half was under the sheets, but her top was on display. Her breasts, covered by that small bra, looked as impressive as they had done last night.

"Make me a strong coffee. I need some caffeine before I get up."

The kettle took forever to boil, and then when it did, the lid rattled. As I put the coffee cup on her bedside table, she turned her head so that she could kiss me. It was supposed to be on my cheek, but it ended up on my lips. I quickly pulled back. It had been brief, and accidental, but it had sent my pulse racing. I looked at her. She was shaking her head, and smiling.

"I've told you before. No tongues."

She laughed at her own joke, but I just smiled. It had not been much more than lips touching, but it had excited me. If she had responded by opening her mouth, I wasn't sure that I could have stopped myself from French kissing her.

After she had showered we went down for breakfast. There were already a few people eating. Some of them would be on the same course as my Daughter.

When we had finished, it was time for her to go.

"Wish me luck."

"You don't need it."

She then kissed me, but this time on the cheek. I then watched her as she walked out of the dining room. I felt immensely proud. She was beautiful, and clever as well. But mixed in with that pride, was an uneasy feeling. I was now finding her attractive, and it was making me feel uncomfortable.

When I got back to the room, I made myself a coffee. I was now ready to start on the painting. I did, but only after a second cup.

After working on it for a couple of hours, I stepped back to admire it. What I had done so far was good, but it needed to be better than good to impress Sir Cedric. I smiled when I thought about what he had said.

"I don't care what it costs me. I want you to produce a masterpiece."

He had then spent the next twenty minutes haggling about the price. When we shook on it, both of us were happy.

When I stopped for lunch, I was pleased with what I had achieved. I had reworked the horse's head, and spent a bit more time on the tree that was in the background. That was enough for one day. I was an artist, and it was all about quality rather than quantity.

After eating a sandwich in the bar, I went to reception.

"Hello Mr. Wilkinson."

It was Craig who had checked us in yesterday.

"Any chance of another room?"

"Sorry, no. We have been turning people away all morning. We are fully booked."

I shrugged my shoulders, and then I said, "It was worth a try."

I was turning to leave, when he spoke again.

"You could try the Western Palace, it's a thirty minute car ride from here. But don't tell anybody that I suggested it."

"Thanks, I might just do that."

Then I moved my fingers across my lips, as if I was zipping them up. I thought he would find that funny, but he didn't.

At six, Emma was back from her course.

"How was it?"

I only asked because she expected me to, but the big smile on her face had already told me that it had gone well.

"It was good, and I understood all of it."

We then ate in the restaurant.

"Would you like me to tell you what I have learnt today?"

I shook my head vigorously, in a theatrical manner, and it made her laugh.

"Daddy you are so funny."

She should tell Craig that.

As we walked back to our room, my back spasmed, and I had to stop.

"Are you OK."

"Yes. It's just my back. It's been hurting all day. That bed isn't very comfortable."

"I'll massage it for you."

I was about to say no, but the look on her face told me that she was determined to do it.

We were now in our room, and I was lying face down on her bed, naked from the waist up. She was pummelling my back hard. At times too hard. I just hoped that it was making it better rather than making it worse.

"I think that's enough."

"You can do more if you want, but gentler please."

"OK."

This time her touch was softer, almost sensuous.

"We should check if they have another room."

"I've already done that, and it was a no. However, they did suggest trying another hotel, but it's half an hour away."

"I would prefer staying here, where the course is."

"In that case I will stop complaining. We are only here for a few more days, so it's not a big deal."

She then got back to massaging me. It was relaxing, and I was starting to feel drowsy.

"I have a solution. We share my bed."

I was now fully awake.

"And I won't take no for an answer."

I suppose there was no harm in us sleeping together, but deep down I knew that it was really a bad idea.

When it was time for bed, she didn't seem concerned, but I was. As before, she was wearing bra and knickers, and I had on boxers and a T-shirt. We were back to back, but when I woke in the middle of the night, I was spooning her, with my hand cupping her breast. When this happened with Sophia, I would sometimes play with it, rubbing the nipple. If she responded, and she woke up, we would make love. But when was the last time that had happened? I couldn't remember. She was now more likely to be annoyed, rather than excited, if her sleep was disturbed by me wanting sex. This was different, she wasn't my Wife, she was my Daughter. And why hadn't I removed my hand?

As I moved my fingers over her breast, I held my breath. I knew that I shouldn't be doing it, that it was wrong, but I couldn't help myself. When I got to the nipple it responded by swelling. I longed to go under her bra, but that was too risky. If she woke now, I might get away with it, but I wouldn't if I did that.

If I was to close my eyes, I could believe that it was Sophia that I was touching, but not as she is now, but as she was when she was younger. Nice firm breasts, with responsive nipples.

After a couple of minutes, I was getting bolder, pinching her nipple, rather than rubbing it. My cock was sticking out of the top of my boxers, rock hard, and it was now in control. In the back of my mind I knew that this might end by me going too far, but I didn't care.

My other hand was now on her bottom. It wasn't between her legs, but only because they were closed. It was firm, but with just the right amount of wobble that gets a man excited. It was her Mother's bottom, before it had started to sag.

As I fondled it, I thought about pushing her legs apart. Would I be able to do that without waking her? She then made a sudden sound, and I froze. It was a low moan. As soon as she was silent, I started moving my hands again. She then made another noise, and this time it was a lot louder. That made me come to my senses. I removed my hands, and then I turned over. My cock was still hard, and it was never going to go down without some attention, so I went to the bathroom.

I started slowly, but my hand moved quicker when I thought about where I had touched her. If only I could have got inside her bra, or better still, into her knickers. That took me to the edge, but it was imagining what it would feel like if my cock was deep inside her, that tipped me over.

I was now back in bed, facing away from her. Tomorrow we would have to move to another hotel. Emma wouldn't like it, but it needed to be done. Sleeping together was too much of a temptation. A temptation that I didn't think I could resist.

At breakfast I put it to her.

"That's silly. We both slept OK last night."

That was true. But it was what happened when I woke up spooning her, that I was worried about. If we slept together again, I wasn't sure that I could keep my hands to myself.

"I can sleep in that other bed again."

"But it gave you a bad back."

She then reached across the table and held my hand.

"I know what this is all about."

My blood ran cold. I thought she had been asleep, but I was wrong. At some point she had woken up. She had made a noise so that I would stop. I was now in trouble. That was bad enough, but was she going to tell her Mother?

"You think that being in the same bed as me might disturb my sleep."

I almost sighed, out of relief, but instead I nodded.

"Tonight you are sleeping in my bed, and I won't take no for an answer."

It was ten o'clock before I started work. Five minutes later I got a call.

"Walt it's Cedric. How's that painting of mine getting on?"

"It's nearly finished."

"Good, I'll send my chauffeur round on Sunday to pick it up."

After the call ended, I looked at the painting. It was a long way off being 'Nearly finished'. But I was confident that it would be ready on time.

This time it was seven before she was back, and she looked tired.

"Today was tough, but I managed to just about understand it."

Then she looked at the painting.

"I thought it would be finished by now."

I was offended. After Cedric's call I had worked hard, and I was proud with what I had achieved. I was about to tell her that, when she laughed. I shook my head, she had got me.

Emma wasn't in the mood for going out, so we ordered room service. After eating, we got into bed and watched television. It wasn't long before she was asleep. I then turned the television off, and shortly after, I was asleep as well.

I was in the middle of a nice dream, when I suddenly woke up. Emma was shaking me. It took me a while to come round.

"What's up?"

She giggled, and then she said, "Your cock. And it's been poking me."

I was horrified.

"Sorry, I was asleep."

"But your cock wasn't."

Then she laughed. She might be finding this funny, but I wasn't.

"I'll turn over."

I did, and I hoped that would be the end of it.

"You need to sort it out."

"I'll be OK now."

"I'm not as old, and as wise, as you, but I do know that it's not going down on its own."

"So you want me to go to the bathroom and masturbate?"

That made her laugh.

"Nobody says masturbate these days."

I muttered, "I do," and she laughed again.