Going Out With Daddy Ch. 02bycolumfa©
The next morning, Tim sat alone at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in his hand, the newspaper lying unread on the table in front of him. His mind was too occupied to read. Guilt and shame ran through him like twin daggers. Sure, he had been mildly drunk the night before, but not so much that he shouldn't have been able to control himself.
Good Lord. Had he really flirted so unconscionably with his daughter? He groaned aloud as he recalled pushing his erection into her as they stood by the car. She had clearly been innocently playing with the idea of a grown-up date, and he had taken her too seriously. He remembered the way she twisted away from him at the last second. She had smiled at him, but that was probably just a knee-jerk reaction to preserve some shred of their natural relationship.
And then he had kissed her! And what a kiss it had been. He thought of her soft sweet young body pressed up against him, the feel of her lips on his. The gentle yielding presence of her mouth, the warm breath, wine-scented, the innocently closed eyes. Good God, he had taken full advantage of her.
Well, not full, he supposed. He had managed to restrain himself before he gave in entirely to his worse instincts. He had not tried to feel her up. Her eyes had been so smoky after that kiss, so hazy and intense. Somehow he had maneuvered her inside and sent her to her room.
And then, the final blow. He had been unable to resist releasing that sexual tension, sitting in the bathroom next to his bedroom where his wonderful wife lay sleeping, unaware of his illicit lust. How sordid it all seemed, like a scene from a melodramatic movie. He felt tainted. But that hadn't stopped him from shooting his seed all over his stomach, nearly up to his shoulders, it had rocketed out so hard.
"Good morning, sweetie," came Carol's voice from behind. He started, guilty in his remininscences.
"Uh, good morning, Carol."
"You guys must have had a good time last night, huh?" She was puttering around the kitchen, clearly unconcerned about her husband's date with their daughter. And why should she be? Husbands and daughters out was no reason for concern, normally. "You didn't get back in until after I was already asleep."
Should he tell her? Should he burst that bubble? No, this was a one-time thing that happened, a bizarre concatenation of circumstance. He would just have to be careful in the future with Marie. He would have to maintain his distance. But as he thought that, a pang of longing swept through him.
"Yeah, I guess it was all right," he said nonchalantly. He hoped there was just the right sense of boredom in his voice. "Honestly, I don't know why you set it up."
Oh, you sly dog, Carol thought, smiling to herself. If she hadn't heard him jerking off in the bathroom when she had been supposedly asleep, she wouldn't have suspected a thing.
"Well, maybe you need more dates with her then," she said aloud. "The point of you going out with her was to make the two of you more comfortable together."
"For crying out loud, Carol," Tim sighed, exasperated. Was he laying it on too thick? The truth was that his heart leaped at the idea of more nights out with his sweet young daughter. "How do you know Marie will want to go out with me again?"
"We can always ask her," Carol laughed. "But that will have to wait. I think she's sleeping off the effects of last night. What did you do, ply her with wine to lower her inhibitions?"
"What? N—no, Carol! What would make you think I would do a thing like that?" She had to laugh at his guilty expression. My goodness, he was too easy to tease.
"I'm just yanking your chain, Tim," she said soothingly. "And in any case, she's an adult, even if the law says she can't drink for another three years. If you wanted to share some wine with her, who am I to object?"
"Well, she might have had a little teeny bit of wine, I guess," Tim admitted, relieved that that indiscretion might be off his conscience.
"In any case, once she wakes up, I'm taking her to the mall. She desperately needs new clothes. Can you believe she hadn't worn that lovely dress because she didn't have a bra that she could wear with it?"
Tim's brain was immediately filled with the thought of that bra he had seen the night before. The image shifted to one of his lovely daughter, in that bra, her firm breasts supported and revealed at the same time. Jesus! He was sick, that's what it was. He shook his head and stood up.
"All right, then I'm off to do some work in the garage."
"And mow the lawn after, would you?" Carol's mind never stopped working. If she timed it right...
"Honestly, Marie. I just want to know if you had a good time with your father last night. It's not some kind of inquisition."
"All right, all right," Marie laughed, exasperated. "Yeah, I guess we had a good time." Memories of him pressed against her at the car, that sweet kiss on the door step. God, she could feel herself becoming damp even as she sat in the car with her mother.
"Ha! I knew it," Carol smiled. They were sitting in the car on the way to the mall. Her sweet girl was so pretty, so innocent. "We'll have to get you some nice clothes so the next time can be even better." All the time, she had to tend the seeds she had sown. It was exhilarating, but at the same time, exhausting, all this work. But the payback would be worth it, she knew.
"Uh, Mom? Dad said something last night that had me kinda confused."
"Okay," Carol replied, looking at her daughter sideways as she drove. It looked like Marie was blushing. This could be interesting...
"Well," the girl went on, flustered. How could she ask about this? Best to just dive in. "He said that you were pretty, um, adventurous. That when you said not to do anything you wouldn't do, that was funny 'cause there really wasn't much of anything you wouldn't. Um, like, do, you know?"
"Uh-huh." Carol was laughing inside. She had known that he would find that statement funny, and had hoped that something might come of it. But on the outside, she kept her face open and encouraging.
"So?" Marie was studiously looking out of her window.
"What did he mean, Mother?" Her voice was quiet, embarrassed, but also passionate. The girl really needed to know.
"Marie, honey, when a girl loves her man, she'll do almost anything for him." A pause. No response from her daughter. "Sexually, sweetie."
"Like what?" So quiet.
"How much detail do you want, Marie?" The teenager turned finally to look at her mother.
"As much as you can give," she said, firmly. Carol marveled at her. She might have been young, but she knew what she wanted and she went after it with a single-minded purpose. It reminded her of her own personal style.
"Okay. On the night that I met your father?"
"At his first catering event, right?"
"That's right. I pulled him into the coat closet and went down on him."
"Mom!" Marie's face was a study of shock. But deep inside, she felt a flutter of excitement. Her mother had always seemed so sedate to her, so dignified. Now she was beginning to understand that there was another side to her, hidden from view.
"Well, you asked, Marie," Carol said, smiling calmly.
"You mean, why did I do something so forward?" Carol looked ahead of her, thinking back to that night. "Your father was a gorgeous young man. Still is gorgeous, you know. But back then, he had an air of potential about him, the man at the beginning of his life." She smiled. "So much possibility, and I could tell he was going to realize his goals, if he had the right help."
Marie was spellbound. This was fascinating.
"It would take someone special to help him along the way, and I knew I was that person. It was necessary to help him realize it, too." Carol looked over at her rapt daughter. She caressed the side of her face.
"Also, you know, it was fucking intense." Marie let out a little shriek of outraged glee.
"Mom! I don't think I've ever heard you use that word before." She giggled. This was pretty cool. It was more like talking with a girlfriend than with her mother.
"Plus, Marie, going down on a guy is one of the best ways to get him to love you. They act like you've just done them the biggest favor in the world."
"I know! When really, you have all of the power, all the control, right?"
"Oh, so you've given blow-jobs, young lady?" Carol tried to keep a stern expression on her face, then she and her daughter suddenly burst out laughing. She felt so close to Marie, all of a sudden.
"So tell me, Mom. Did he last long?" Marie couldn't believe her audacity in asking such a bold question. But her mother took it right in stride.
"Ha! I think he came in less than a minute. And he probably only lasted that long because he was scared someone might burst in on us."
"I know, right? They never last long when you're down on your knees in front of them. Did he hold onto your hair? Like he was guiding your head?"
"Sure, but I had a hand on him to control how far he could push into me. I don't like to be gagged."
"No, me neither! God, we're so much alike, Mom!" Marie pictured the scene in her mind, her gorgeous mother, younger then, on her knees in a pretty dress, her father pushing his hard cock into her mouth. She unconsciously rubbed her thighs together, attempting vainly to apply more pressure to her heated sex.
"And when he came, did you swallow?" Carol could tell the girl was hot. It wasn't just her barely hidden squirming. Her voice sounded throatier than usual, her face was flushed. Everything according to plan.
"Of course, sweetie," she said tenderly. "I had to cement his attachment to me. How better than to show I was willing to take all he had and swallow it down?" They drove along in silence for a few seconds.
"Plus," Carol said with a straight face, "he tasted damned good." Marie shuddered, her whole body shivering. God, she had cum, just from hearing the story!
They wandered around the mall, looking in store after store. Marie wasn't really sure what she was supposed to be looking for. Carol surreptitiously tried to steer her towards clothes that were a bit more revealing than the stuff she usually wore.
"Are you going out with Daddy again?" Carol asked the question casually, as though the answer really didn't matter to her. They were looking through dresses.
"Um, I dunno," Marie replied. "He didn't ask me."
"I think he's worried that you didn't have a good time last night. Here, take this one to try on. You'll have to reassure him so that he feels all right asking."
"Like how do you mean?"
"Just be relaxed around him. Let him know that you are completely comfortable being with him. You know."
"I thought I did that last night," Marie said, frowning a little. In fact, she couldn't have been more comfortable.
"Well, he needs reinforcing. Men are dull, you know. It takes multiple exposures for things to sink in." They giggled. Carol pulled out a little black dress. "Now this, I think, would be the perfect dress for your next date, don't you think?"
Marie looked it over. It was a halter top, tying behind the neck, with lace above and below the bust. The skirt was straight and tight around the waist before flaring out to about mid-thigh, and she imagined it would mold nicely to all of her curves.
"Oh my God, that is so adorable, Mom! But I don't think I have anything to wear under it."
"Silly girl, why do you think we're shopping? We can find all the right stuff today. Just go try it on so we can see what we're dealing with." Marie went off to the dressing room while her mother looked around for some more stuff. In a few minutes, Carol made her way over to the cubicles.
"Marie? How's it going in there?"
"I'm in this stall, Mom. You can come on in." Carol slipped into the dressing room where her daughter was checking herself out in the mirror. She had the little black dress on, and she looked like she wasn't sure if it fit or not.
"Let's see. Hmmm. It looks good on you, but you obviously won't be wearing that bra with this dress."
"I know, I know. Should I take it off?"
"If you want to get a better idea if the dress fits, of course. We can find the right kind of bra later on if the dress works." The teenager untied the halter behind her neck, letting the straps dangle in front of her body. She noticed in the mirror that her mother hadn't turned around. She got that lovely feeling of closeness again, that sense of being girlfriends with her mother. She had never thought she could be so intimate with her mother in this way. She smiled at Carol in the mirror, and undid her simple white cotton bra, letting it fall off her boobs.
Carol smiled back at her sweet daughter. She looked so innocent and young, standing there in the dressing room with the dress down around her middle, her teenaged breasts so perky and fresh. Her nipples weren't hard, just puffy outcroppings pointing up off the tip of each breast.
"Ah, youth," she sighed, looking wistfully at her daughter. "If only my boobs were still so firm."
"Mom!" Marie giggled. This was so much fun. "You've got a great chest! I hope mine are still so sexy when I'm your age." She pulled each bra strap off of her arms, standing un-selfconsciously half nude in front of her mother.
"It's just an illusion, honey. When you get to my age, nothing stands up the way it used to. With the right bra, you can maintain the profile you want. So, enjoy it while you have it, sweetie."
"I don't know, Mom." Marie looked down at herself, then turned and looked at her chest in the mirror. "Yeah, they're firm, all right," and she shimmied slightly from side to side, her tits swaying prettily with the movement. "But aren't they kinda small? It seems like all any guy wants to see is like huge tits, y'know?"
"Not every guy," Carol smiled, inwardly delighted with the opportunity her daughter had unwittingly presented to her. "Your father likes 'em smaller, at least." Marie looked up at her, suddenly blushing. "Really! He always told me his mother said 'more than a handful's too much!'"
Marie felt that familiar warm rush flow through her. As she glanced back at herself in the mirror, she saw that her nipples had hardened, lifting away from the puffy areoles beneath them. She felt shy, and lifted the straps of the dress to cover up her chest.
"Well, I'm glad to know there's one man out there anyway who would think I've got sexy boobs," she murmured. Carol reached up and tied the straps behind her neck, and looked over her daughter's shoulder at the reflection.
"I think the dress looks marvelous, Marie." Marie had to agree. She twisted a little back and forth, looking at the way the dress hugged her hips.
"Do you think I even need a bra?"
"You always need a bra, Marie." The girl raised her eyebrows at her mother. "I mean it. Even with boobs as firm as these," and she reached up to cup her daughter's breasts through the dress, "you'll always look better with your chest supported here." And she lifted Marie's breasts slightly. The touch of her mother's hands wasn't sexual, but the intimacy sent a thrill through the teenager.
"I suppose you're right, Mom. But what about panties? I can see the line of my underwear right through." Carol stepped away and looked at the back of the dress.
"Ah, VPLs. Can't have those, you're right. You have two possible solutions. One is to go commando." Marie giggled at the thought. "Well, we women have to have freedom somewhere. If it's not on top, then why not on the bottom? We don't have any package to hold in place!" Marie shrieked in outraged humor.
"Mom! You wouldn't!"
"I wouldn't? I'm not right now." Marie stepped back and looked down at her mother's lower half. She was wearing a loose cream skirt that came down to her knees, conservative but appealing.
"You can't tell," she muttered.
"Of course you can't tell, silly," Carol laughed. "If you could tell, I'd be sending out all the wrong signals to guys around. But I know, and it makes me feel sexier. But if you're not comfortable with that, we can get you a g-string to wear underneath."
"Let's see what the dress looks like without VPLs," Marie said, suddenly feeling daring.
"That's my girl!" Marie pulled the dress up around her waist, revealing the white cotton panties that matched the bra. She skinned the undergarment off her waist letting it drop around her ankles. She was so happy to be able to be so open with her mother. It was like having a mom and a best friend at the same time. She lifted one leg out of her panties at a time.
"Hmmm," Carol said, a note of disapproval in her voice. "We can't have that, you know."
"Huh? What do you mean?" Marie was suspended in the act of removing the panties from her left foot.
"This," her mother said, indicating the dense patch of hair at the junction of Marie's legs. "Not if you're going to go commando, or wear a g-string. You'll have to at the very least trim it back."
"Oh. My. God. Mom! I—I don't know..." She looked down at herself again, the dress pulled up around her waist. The thick hair, dark brown, had only recently become part of her idea of herself. "What do you mean, at least?"
"Shaved, sweetie. You don't want hairs escaping, straying out of the confines of your panties, do you? The g-strings they make nowadays are very small."
"I can't believe we're talking about this." She stared at her mother. "Do you do that? Shave, I mean?"
"Of course, Marie. I wouldn't tell you to do something I don't do. Do you want to see?"
Marie's heart pounded. This was absolutely as intimate as she had ever been with her mother, let alone another woman. She glanced down at herself again, and smiled shyly.
"Uh, yeah," she shrugged. "If you, like, don't mind, that is."
"Why would I mind, honey? You're my daughter, and we're both grown women, after all." She gathered the hem of her skirt in both hands and pulled it up her legs, her daughter's eyes glued to the ever expanding exposure. "Although, to be honest," she remarked, as she lifted the skirt up, "I am glad you're comfortable showing me yourself as well. It would be a little strange if I hiked my skirt up and you were completely dressed."
Marie was quiet, her face flushed, her breathing coming rapidly and shallowly. Finally, the hem was level with her mother's crotch, and then above it, so that the entire mound was exposed. True to her word, she was panty-less, and, even more, nearly hairless. Her vulva pooched downward, the plump labia pink, bare, and healthy appearing. There was a tiny spread at the top of the slit where her mother's clit hid, and then above, a tiny trim patch of light brown pubic hair.
Without thinking about it, the eighteen-year-old sank to her knees in front of her mother, who stood, her legs trembling slightly, still holding her skirt up over her waist. She had to see this up close.
"Wow! That looks so neat, Mom," she breathed. "Is it bare all the way underneath?"
"Uh huh," Carol said. She had felt the warm air of her daughter's breath on her most private area, and it had sent an unexpected thrill through her. She hadn't been doing this for herself, up until this point. Her goal had not been to get sexually aroused. She had other plans. And yet... She spread her legs apart slightly, so that Marie could see everything. The feeling of exposing herself like this to her daughter was so unexpectedly exciting!
Now Marie could see her mother's pussy in all of its glory. The lips appeared thicker now than before, and there was a definite odor in the air, which the girl registered unconsciously. She wanted to reach out and touch the smooth skin there, to have the feeling of what it felt like in addition to what it looked like.
"Why, Mom? Why do you do it?"
"Because your father likes it that way." Again that wonderful sensation of warmth flowed through Marie's body, centering in her sex. "Actually, he likes it completely bare, no hair at all." The girl's pulse was racing. She was learning so much!