Helping Dad

My name is Paige. My story tells what happened after my parents got divorced, just a few weeks after my 18th birthday. I remember the day very well, because it came as a complete surprise; there wasn't any prior mention of it that my brother or I knew of, but we both felt there had been an uneasy, cool feeling between mum and dad for a long time. I should not have been surprised when they told us, but it was sad that it had happened and it seemed that the speed at which it happened was the greatest shock for Greg and me.

It was mum who told us she wanted a divorce because she had found a new man, a school friend from almost thirty years earlier. He was her schoolboy sweetheart and that emotion was rekindled when she met him unexpectedly at a supermarket. When she discussed it with us, she said she would live with Stephen and we could live with her at Stephen's place.

Immediately, I felt sorry for dad. In the 25 years they were married mum had cared for dad and I knew if he were to be left alone he would not eat or take proper care of himself. He would get lazy and only do what was necessary, so I opted to stay with dad and do the domestic chores. It didn't take Greg long to choose to stay with dad too, but his reasons were different. He was older than me and was rarely at home because he worked as a 'farm hand for hire', and went where he was requested. He helped farmers who needed a respite from their farms, or when there was extra work. He became a 'necessary extra hand' for cropping and mustering for short term needs. He liked the work but it left me at home with dad. It was my choice, after all, he was my dad and I loved him very much.

I found a part-time job at a local restaurant in the next town. The hours varied depending on customer demand. Friday was my longest shift as people chose to eat out on Friday nights, but most weekends were free for me. This was good as I got to sit and chat, although with dad, often while he was watching television.

We had to move here because our parents were only renting our house in Brinkley. It was Greg who found this small, unused farm house for us to rent, but it was quite a distance from where we lived, and dad still worked in Brinkley. He didn't mind that because out here there was zero chance of him seeing mum's new partner. However, travelling to and from work left him very weary at the end of the week.

There was a good side to his travelling for me. If my school friends wanted to visit, I would ask dad if he would bring them home with him. I felt that was my trade-off for looking after him, although I never expressed that to him. My friends did come to visit and I was pleased to see them whenever they visited.

It was in the heat of summer when we moved, so it took a few months to make this house into a home, with what furniture we had. When we were all settled dad started to fall into a sombre mood and just sit around. He didn't join in any local activities at the local sports club, he chose to just sit and watch television.

I asked him why he didn't find a new lady to spend some time with. His response was bitter, "I had a woman and she left. I'm not going through that again." I understood his feelings, but I hoped time would change his mind. Months later I asked him if he had found anyone, he said, "I'm far too busy to find anyone and I don't see the point in getting some-one that no-one else wants. I'll be right." But I knew that was not true.

While travelling home on the bus one evening I had an idea about helping him, but I had to find a way to tell him without annoying him. I had to find a plan that wouldn't cause any bad memories or revive his emotional problems. I decided to do it by stealth; otherwise he would just ignore my ideas; he could be very stubborn if he thought he was being assisted or coerced. It was late on a Friday night, after work; I felt the time was right to explain my plan to him. He didn't work on weekends, and Saturday was the one day he liked to sleep in, so he might listen to my plan when he was awake and refreshed.

On Saturday morning I prepared his favourite breakfast of eggs on toast with bacon and took it to his bed when he woke up. I had prepared my breakfast too. I slid under the covers with him and we ate breakfast while he talked about his week at work. I was still in my night wear, a shortie nightie and no panties, as was usual for me.

When breakfast was over, I cleared away the trays and got back into his bed. I asked him if he missed having sex with mum. Naturally, he said he did, so I suggested that I could replace mum and help him that way, adding that he often told me I looked like mum when she was young. He got a bit uppity and said it wasn't right to do that. My dad was very old-fashioned and had strict rules on morality and I was about to suggest we change them for his benefit. As we talked, I moved my hand to his groin and found the opening in his pyjamas and very casually felt for his cock.

He grabbed my wrist and asking quite sternly, "What did you think you're doin', girl?" I knew he was annoyed so I had to calm him down and continue working my plan. I told him,

"Dad, it is OK. We are family and we can help each other out when we need to. I am offering to help you out in this way. You said I looked like mum, so let's pretend for a short while that I am mum. Let's see how that works out, eh?" He got quite annoyed and said nice girls didn't suggest such things. He raved about it for a while, but I calmed him and tried again. I moved my hand down and at the same time I whispered in his ear, "Don't be annoyed dad, just see what it feels like to have some-one who loves you trying to help you when you really need help, it's what normal people do for each other."

I think he saw the wisdom in my offer. He remained calm as I moved my hand towards the opening in his pyjama pants. Before I touched his cock I rested my hand on his thigh, still covered by his pyjamas and whispered, "See dad, that hasn't hurt anyone, has it? I am right near your dick. Will I keep going or just leave my hand on your leg?"

"Your hand shouldn't be down there at all, girl. You know it's not right to do that," but he didn't stop me, so I took the next step. I pulled the pyjama cord undone, being careful not to touch his cock in the process.

"Now tell me, did mum reach in to hold your cock, or did you have to put her hand on it? What would you like me to do?" I spoke quietly into his ear; I think this helped enforce the feelings he now had.

"I shouldn't be tellin' you the things your mother and I did, but seein' you asked and you want to know, she reached in and held it, before stroking it." He said it in a matter-of-fact way, so I knew it was safe to continue. As I touched his penis I could feel it was already hard, so I must be having a positive effect on him. I knew now it was safe to continue working my plan.

"Dad, your cock is already hard, were you waiting for me? Do you like my hand on it? It feels nice, doesn't it? " I kissed him on the cheek. He tried to pull back at the touch of my lips, but I moved with his head and kissed him again.

"You shouldn't be anywhere near it, girl, but I do see what you mean. You're a lot like your mother. You know it's wrong, you shouldn't be doin' it. It's not right, girl. I don't want to talk about it, ever. Do you understand me?" He seemed more confused than annoyed, but I was gentle, waiting for any signs of resistance to my moves, but so far, nothing!

I started stroking him gently; I didn't want to rush things. His cock was responding, getting much harder now. I whispered to him, "Your dick likes me, doesn't it?"

He muttered something I didn't hear clearly, so I did not comment. If he didn't like it he would have made it very clear by now. "Don't you think it is better for me to do it, than to jerk off in the dark, all alone?"

"What makes you think I do that, girl? What are you talking about? I don't do that, I can tell you."

I looked at him and said, "I know you do, dad. I see the dry cum on the bed sheets and on your pyjamas, I do the washing here, so I see it." He looked sheepishly at me and muttered,

"A man needs to get some relief from pressure. A man could explode if he didn't release it, somehow."

"Dad, that's exactly my point, I have been trying to tell you I can help you do that but you have been fighting me ... until now. Can't you see I can help you until that certain lady comes along?"

I was holding his cock so gently and stroking it up while he ranted about me being brought up properly and all that stuff. After he got all that 'proper upbringing' talk off his chest his attitude changed, he was lying there enjoying my attention. It was a few minutes later when I stopped stroking his dick and sat up, "Come on Dad, take you pyjama top off and set the mood properly." He sat up so I could undo the buttons and remove it. I also slipped my nightie off and told him, "See? Now I am sharing the moment with you." He didn't speak, but looked at me; studying what he could as the bedcovers were still covering our lower parts. He finally spoke,

"Good grief, girl, you look exactly like you mother did at twenty, perhaps your breasts are fuller and more round, but your lovely body is a strong reminder of her." I thanked him and kissed his forehead.

"You can touch them if you like, I don't mind. Maybe if you feel them they may remind you of mum's boobs in her younger days."

He reached his hand out and cupped my breast then gently squeezed my nipple.

"The same, they are the same," he exclaimed as if he had just discovered matching earrings. I leaned closer to him and offered him one to suck. He accepted it and told me, "Your mum wasn't keen for me to do this, but you are so ... so ... lovely, girl."

"Well, dad, you can make up for lost time with my boobs, then. I won't stop you. I like them being teased, licked and sucked." I watched him silently as let him fondle them. As I watched him I ran my fingers through his thinning hair. I think he was happy at this moment. I was glad I had suggested it.

When he had satisfied himself with my breasts, I felt sure I could offer to jerk him off properly, but I needed to be careful about my approach, it was still early days.

"Dad, can I feel your cock and gently stroke it to make you come? It would ease your tension and I can see you are more comfortable with me being here now. I think you need it, don't you, Dad?"

He smiled at me, then kissed my forehead and told me, "I guess you're right, Paige. I would like that very much, but we must remember we can't mention this to anyone. Surely, you understand that, don't you?" I nodded and pushed the bedcovers down to reveal his hard cock. My legs were still straight on the bed, but I saw him looking at my hairy triangle that adorned my pussy. He touched my thigh with the tips of his fingers, "God god, girl, you have your mother's hair colouring down there too."

"Yes, I know that, Dad?" He moved his hand to touch my pussy hair, but not to feel me. I didn't rush him by offering myself. However, it he had asked to feel me, or pushed his fingers in me I would have spread my legs in a flash for him.

I didn't rush to make him cum quickly; I wanted him to see I could be gentle and sensual, so I stroked him slowly while he lay motionless, his hand resting on my thigh. As he reached his trigger point I saw his hands clench and his legs stiffen, I kept my stroking even as I saw his precum. I turned my head to kiss him on his cheek, just as he erupted, shooting a stream of thick, pearly cum upward and over my hand. Once, twice, three times before it slowed to a dribble from his knob hole and oozing over my fingers. "There you go, Dad, all that pent-up cum has been released. I bet you feel better now, don't you?" He nodded and smiled. Nothing more was said. We both showered and dressed. I set about changing the bed and doing the washing, as I always did on Saturdays.

Later that afternoon, when I was in the kitchen preparing our evening meal, dad came in and sat at the table looking sad and forlorn. He sat with his hands clasped and was looking down.

"What's up dad, everything OK?" I asked with some concern after seeing the strange expression on his face. He looked at me and asked, "When did you learn to do that to a man?"

"Do what?" I countered, trying to work out what his thinking.

"You know, what you did to me this morning." I tried to think of a logical reason of how an 18-year-old girl could tell her father she had been having sex for quite some time now.

"Dad, why are you asking me that now? Did I do something wrong?" He looked down at the table and shook his head.

"I thought you were still a virgin. I didn't know you had grown up so quickly. When did it start?"

Now, there's a question I didn't want to answer, at least not to my father. So, I found an alternative,

"I watch those late movies on TV, just like you do; they have clues for inquisitive girls like me. It doesn't take much to see what they're doing, and after asking questions of my peers at school I soon had the full story of people having sex. We talked about it at school; some girls had some interesting photographs. Their brothers sometimes bought books that are usually hidden from their mothers, so you soon figure it out." Maybe it wasn't the truth, but enough to satisfy his curiosity, or to admit that Greg was the first to show me.

I added some reinforcement to my story. "Dad, all I wanted to do was to stop you feeling sad and looking miserable. I liked you when you were happy and cheerful, but since we moved here, you have been the opposite. I want my daddy back the way I knew him before all this stuff happened with mum. All I did was help you achieve that, so let us do it more often. It is just between the two of us, I won't tell Greg, so it will remain our secret. Try not to think too much about it. It's just life!"

Our evening meal was over, the dishes were washed and we were sitting watching TV together.

"What are your plans for tonight, Paige?" He didn't often call me 'Paige', but I liked him doing it now.

"I don't really have any. Is there a reason you asked me?"

"No." There was a long pause. "Perhaps you'd like to sleep in my bed tonight," he suggested. That surprised me!

"Do you think that is a good idea, dad, given what you said about being morally wrong and all that?"

"Perhaps my judgement was a little too hasty, after considering the circumstances." He was quiet again.

"Are you asking me to go to bed with you, dad? If that's what you want, then I will, but you need to tell me you are quite sure about it." I thought he would take him a few days to think about what happened this morning and analyse it as he analysed everything else.

It was well after midnight when the television film finished and I was checking if the doors were locked prior to going to bed. When I returned to see if he was getting out of his chair, he asked me,

"Would you like to share my bed with me tonight, girl? I would be ever so grateful. We could talk about the way things worked out between your mother and me, if you like."

"OK, that will be good. I will gather some clothes for the morning before I come in to you." He nodded and went into his bedroom. I felt I needed a shower, so I would be especially fresh for my dad in case he wanted more than just talk.

When I entered dad's bedroom he was already in bed, with clean pyjamas and his hands clasped on top of the covers. "There you are," he commented unnecessarily, "I thought you'd changed your mind."

"No Dad, I just wanted you to see me in my best condition. A girl needs time to do that." I told him. I eased in beside him and moved closer so that he could put his arm around me. "It's been a long while since you put your arm around me in bed. I was probably about 4-years-old then. Do you remember?"

"I do. I often regret not being home more often when you and your brother were growing up." He went quiet as if contemplating what might have been.

"Well, that was a long time ago. Things have changed for the better, so let's talk about now, eh?"

"I really liked what you did for me this morning. I didn't mean to be angry; it is just that what you suggested is so different from what we taught you and your brother. I will try and make it up if I can."

"It was new to me too. I was hoping that by doing this I would somehow comfort you knowing that I love you and don't want to see you unhappy. It benefits both of us." Now I was feeling contrite.

I turned to face him and reached my arm across his chest to hug him. I kissed him on the cheek and said, "I am here for you now, Dad." We remained still for some time, he held close, with my head on his chest.

"Dad, would you like to feel my tits again?" Dad nodded and smiled,

"Yes, they are so firm and round, just like you mother's as I recall." I sat up, pulled my nightie up to allow him full view of my breasts with their erect nipples.

"My god, Paige, you look so lovely, I want to kiss them." I paused for just a moment,

"You kiss them and I'll feel your balls, OK?" He nodded, but said nothing, but I saw a smile on his face. He moved to take a nipple in his mouth as I undid the knot on his pyjamas and felt for those two squishy orbs. I found them and gently kneaded them in my hand. I felt dad stiffen his body when I touched them, but he soon relaxed. He was still using his tongue and mouth on my boobs. Without asking him, I pushed the covers down to expose his cock and my vagina. He looked down at my pussy and moved his hand to feel the mounds. I opened my legs to allow him full access and I soon felt his fingers caressing my clit. I wanted more, so I whispered to him,

"Oh, I like you doing that. Would you like to go inside my pussy and make me happy with your fingers?" I don't know if my choice of words would disturb him, but he did as I asked.

"What are you doin', girl? Why did you do that?"

"I want to take your pyjama pants off and make love to me, properly. You know, fucking me."

For a moment I think I scared him. He was quiet and he just stared at me. Before he could speak, I asked him,

"What's wrong daddy? Did I say something to offend you? I didn't mean to, I wanted you to know how I feel about you." He took his pyjama coat off and pushed off his pyjama pants, all the time looking into my eyes. He laid there, his hairy legs slightly apart and his tangled pubic hair covered his balls and obscured his partly erect cock. I moved my finger along the growth of hair to his navel and I smoothed my hand over his hairy chest. I had not seen this much of my father since we visited the beach on his work holidays. I certainly had never seen his cock and balls exposed in this way. The sight of him now made my cunt feel damp and there was moisture on the inside of my thighs.

When daddy did speak to me, he told me, "I have not heard anyone ask me that for more than 20 years, your mother never spoke that way. Sometimes, I wish she had been as forthright as you. I think I would have enjoyed sex with her more often. It was taken for granted that we would do it when she put her arm over me." I was pleased not to have offended him, but it made me think how different times were in his courting days. These days you ask for a fuck if you want one.

"Daddy, the young ones today know what they want and ask for it, just as I did then. We don't think it is offensive, we think it is natural to say things like that ... to say what we mean."

We were both naked now and we just looked at each other. I couldn't believe how horny I was, being there with him. I really needed a fuck, so I asked him if I could ride his dick. He suggested he would do it if I lay on my back in 'the normal way' as he put it. My dad is so old-fashioned. Anyway, I agreed that we could do it his way. After all, I was as horny as hell. He moved rather awkwardly, to position his body over me, his legs between mine so he could guide his cock into my cunt. I thought he was having second thoughts and was going to change his mind just as he saw my pussy.