Her Daddy's Dick Ch. 03

I understood her meaning. She knew I kind of admired some stubbornness in a woman. So, she wondered if her caving in on hiring a new fella bothered me. It didn't. I shook my head.

Her head plummeted, taking all of it again and holding there. Her tongue undulated and her throat swallowed, but her head didn't move.

It felt so good I swore.

She held there ten—fifteen—twenty seconds. Longer.

I snatched air in gaps, feeling the power of my orgasm building.

Suddenly, she drew off with a wheezing moan. We looked at one another, and she looked at the clock on her nightstand. "Eighteen days, ten hours, and—and twenty-seven minutes," she huffed. "That's how long it's been since the last time you came in me—in my pussy, remember?"

I shrugged.

"And it was six hours and fifty-six minutes before that when I last got to swallow it."

I nodded and shrugged.

She smiled.

I pulled her head toward me, and my cock vanished.

She held, making little guttural clucks.

My knees felt weak. My toes and hands felt numb. I was lightheaded, and my left arm went wild with pain.

I didn't care because my cock rippled with power.

I swore deeply, feeling the peak crash upon me, knowing the flow of cum had begun.

Vicca moaned, feeling the contractions.

With her nose on my belly and her lips in my pubic hairs, I heard her gulp and moan, gulp and moan.

Then, I felt like my heart was going to explode out my chest.

And I woke up in the hospital.

***

So, Vicca won.

No, I didn't hire a new hand, but I got help on the ranch just the same. My youngest boy, Trenton, came home to run the ranch while I was laid up after my heart attack. He brought his three young kids with him.

But, not his wife. I found this out upon my return home after four days in the county hospital.

I knew Trenton and his wife were already on bad terms, but when Trenton told her he was going to head back here to help, she up and left him. Just run off.

She did it sneaky, though. She told him to take the kids and that she would be up the next day, but she never came. Never called or took Trenton's calls. On the third day, Trenton drove home and found a goodbye-and-don't-come-lookin' note. Since he couldn't run his own ranch and mine, he began hauling his cattle to our place.

Of course, he didn't have many—sixty head is all, renting his land from the bank. Trenton brought the cattle in ten trips, and then he went ahead and packed out his and the kids' stuff and brought it here. Just moved in and left his double-wide trailer behind.

Vicca explained it all to me, and I was about to argue—that boy needed to find his own path. But, before I could say anything, them three rug rats busted into my room—now 6, 4, and 3 years old—and they run up to my bed with hugs and all kinds of silly kid questions.

"Grandaddy, what's your favorite letter? Mine's R."

"I drew a picture of you and Aunt Vicca, want to see it?"

"Hey grampaw, if fellas have nipples just like ladies, then why don't bulls have no udders?"

"Your heart feeling any better, grandaddy?"

And so on.

I about cried it felt so good, and when they run out, I told Vicca that Trenton and his kids ain't leaving. She told me she'd call Trenton's brothers and let them know.

The presence of her brother and them three little ones had another immediate impact: Vicca grew horny as hell.

I mean it.

I was still in the hospital when Vicca found out Trenton was coming. To hide our relationship from her brother, she moved herself out of the master bedroom and moved my stuff back in there while she took up in her old room. So, in the wee hours of my first night back, when she knew her brother and the kids were all asleep, she came to me.

She gently shook me awake. "Daddy?" she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"What did the doctors say about fuckin' and stuff?"

"What about it?"

"How long before you can again?"

"Oh. Three weeks, Vicca."

She rocked backward, eyes wide. "No," she argued. "No, they didn't—three weeks?"

I nodded. "Sorry, girl."

"But—but, I can't..." She didn't finish. Her hands went to her hips and she sat there, thinking. Finally, she said, "You can't cum for three whole weeks that means?"

"Probably."

"Well, I don't like it," she muttered, but she didn't leave. She set there, thinking. Finally, she said, "I don't have to wait, do I?"

"Wait for what?"

She climbed over me, ass to my face and said, "I need it, Daddy."

There was a wet pussy before me. I swallowed and whispered, "You be quiet now, Vicca."

"I will."

I stuck my thumb in her for a while, easing it in and out. When I could no longer resist, I hauled her ass to my face and finished her off.

I got hard, but there wasn't nothing to be done about it. Vicca saw it and told me she wished she could suck it.

I told her to shut up.

Every day, Vicca made the kiddos do a nap time in the mid-afternoon—even the six-year-old. So, while Trenton was out ranching and the kiddos in their beds, she came to me for more.

She came to me every day and night. Something about having the family together sent her into a frenzy.

She tried things—rubbing herself on my toes or my kneecap, giving me things to fuck her pussy with, giving me other, smaller items to put in her butt while I ate or fingered her little cunt, too.

This went on for more than a week before, seeing my cock standing on its end one night, Vicca decided to fuck it, not caring what no Doctor said about it.

She went real slow, and per usual, she came several times before me. When my moment arrived, she sat all the way down and just kind of wiggled herself slowly. Every half-minute she checked on me, asking if my heart was okay.

When I told her I was ready, she slipped off me, climbed down, and took just the knob in her lips. She fed from me, sucking the cum out, sloshing it through her cheeks, and gutting it all with hums of delight each time.

Vicca's desires abated somewhat—back to normal, at least-as Trenton and my grandkids got settled into a routine.

But mine didn't.

Something about that heart attack weakened me down there. I wasn't getting horny like I used to. I had kind of become a once-a-week man. I didn't like it. Vicca noticed the difference pretty quick. She asked me about it, suggested some things.

At my next doctor's appointment, I asked and the fella gave me a prescription for erectile dysfunction. I sent Vicca to pick them up because I sure as hell didn't want old Mrs. Gannet at the drug store knowing what was going on. She was two years below me back in school.

The pills helped, but they didn't bring me back to normal—two, maybe three times a week was about all I could take. And in-between taking them? I was different. The urges weren't there. I couldn't just see Vicca's ass—or Denise's back then—and need it so badly that I could fuck right there, right then. That was gone.

I just didn't think about fucking anymore like I used to.

I was tired.

I was old all of a sudden.

***

Trenton and the little ones had been with us for about eight months when life kind of found its natural course.

Vicca surprised Trenton and me. The grandkids, while good kids, had some rough edges. They could talk back. They ate like sows. They left their shit everywhere. Things like that.

And Vicca whipped them into shape. She had a tongue like a whiplash. She had eyes in the back of her head. That girl was like a drill sergeant.

But, Vicca loved them kids up, too. They knew she cared about them. They knew she forgave them their mistakes. She read to them and gave them hugs and kisses regular.

She was their new Mom, really, and I got the impression that Vicca was a significant improvement over that woman who used to be Trenton's wife.

Vicca and I had settled into a deal where we were secretly fucking about once, sometimes twice a week. She seemed to cherish things a bit more when we were together. She stayed after, snuggling. She didn't tell me she loved my cock or my cum as much; more often she just told me she loved me. There was a kind of loving sadness to her. Bittersweet, she was, I guess.

My son took charge of the day-to-day operations of the ranch. I got to be like one of them football head coaches who could set back and kind of guide things in the direction I wanted but didn't have to be inspecting every piddling little detail all the time. Trenton was doing the detail work, and he was good.

Mostly, that boy was happy, but there were times. I'd see it when he thought no one was looking. When Trenton got to thinking about stuff other than the ranch, he was unhappy.

We talked one night about him getting back into the market for a woman.

"What do you think, Daddy? Too soon for the kids?"

"No. It's Vicca is your problem."

His eyebrows went up.

I explained, "She's the queen of this ranch, make no mistake. She ain't gonna allow no other queen here, see what I'm saying?"

Trenton thought about it for a spell, and then he nodded, saying, "Never thought about that. You're probably right."

"You get married again," I said, "Then you gotta find a new home. Only one queen on this ranch."

My son smiled, and he turned toward the fireplace, thinking hard.

The frustration emerged not long after that talk. I thought I was nit-picky about things on the ranch; Trenton took it to another level—chewing ass, sending hands home, and throwing tantrums.

Vicca said it reminded her of me.

One afternoon, Vicca and I were riding horses while the kids napped. When we rode back to the main barn, we saw all the help leaving, hands stuffed into pockets, feet trudging, and cowboy hats pointed at the ground. We heard Trenton hollering from inside the barn.

Trenton didn't see Vicca and I come up, but he quit yelling. Once all the help had left, we saw him hauling down haystacks. Tower after tower of them, he yanked down in his rage. Then, he turned and picked up an empty trough—a big one, thing probably weighed 200 pounds—and he annihilated it, hurling it against the barn wall and slamming his boot against it repeatedly.

I made to leave, but Vicca stopped me out of Trenton's sight.

She held my hand, and she just stared up at me with those doleful eyes, never saying a word.

I allowed it for a spell before I said, "Vicca, what?"

Her eyes grew glassy and her voice broke when she responded, "Daddy?"

We looked at one another, and she glanced at the barn and back to me.

"Vicca—," I began, but the second I said her name, I understood. I looked at the barn, and then I turned to her. I hung my head and nodded.

She uttered, "I can help him."

Sighing, I said, "Try it, girl, but it may not work."

"It will," she said sadly.

I nodded. "Maybe so."

"It won't make nothing different between me and you, Daddy. I'll always be your woman."

"He's the younger fella."

"That don't matter. What does is that I love the both of you, but he's the one needs me right now."

"Go on then."

She kissed my cheek and went to her brother.

I didn't stick around. I wasn't much interested in seeing or hearing. I basically knew.

She'd come up quietly, saying his name. He'd quit breaking shit at the sound of her voice. Then, Vicca'd talk to him.

She'd tell him it ain't his fault he's so frustrated. She'd explain what happened to men deprived of the comfort of a woman.

Trenton would sit down, maybe on the bench there beside the barn door. His head would sink low. Maybe he'd say his ex-wife's name, shaking his head.

"She failed you," Vicca would console, moving close to him—beside him—close enough for him to smell her hair, her breath, maybe even her sex. She would touch his arm, and Trenton would feel her touch and grow tranquil, listening to Vicca's soft voice soothe his shattered nerves.

Vicca would tell Trenton all the dangers of his situation, explaining how the very ranch might be at risk. Her strong, soft hands would rub his shoulders and his back.

Trenton would say, "I just don't know what to do, Vicca."

And she would kneel down in the dirt, her eyes desperate in their desire to help him. She would move in front of him, putting her hands on his knees.

In that voice of hers, the one overflowing with feminine sexuality, she would tell him—shyly, now—what momma taught her. A good woman, Vicca would say, cherishes everything about her man. His heart and mind, yes, but his body, too.

"Especially his cock," she would gently explain, and Trenton would look at her anew. For maybe the first time in his life, he would see his sister as the beautiful, extremely desirable woman that she is. His eyes would take in those full, eager breasts. He would remember seeing and ignoring the shapely voluptuousness of Vicca's ass.

Vicca would inch closer, her hands sliding up Trenton's thighs, and tell him a woman ought to cherish her man's cum, too. Love it, really. Always want it in her body. Vicca would look up and whisper to him what he needed, what his cock needed.

Trenton would stare at her, surprised, but seeing her sincerity and listening to her voice, and smelling her body, he couldn't resist letting her go on.

Her hands would begin to stroke his thighs over his jeans, and Trenton would let her, feeling himself suddenly growing hard, very hard.

Vicca would explain how a woman could help him right now, how a woman's mouth could help him release all of that frustration.

She would scoot closer yet, pressing her body against his, and her hands would settle so close, so close to his cock.

Vicca would say how good a woman felt when she helped her man that way, when she sucked all that cum out of him and swallowed it up, how a woman with a tummy full of her man's seed was a happy woman.

And she would tell him how she, Vicca, wanted to be a happy woman. Vicca's fingers would seek out and find the hardness in Trenton's blue jeans. The fingers would pet and caress him there.

Trenton would be shocked, yes, but so charged with excitement that he could not speak.

Vicca would look up at him with those eyes and tell him that, maybe, if he didn't mind, she could help him this once, and no one would ever know.

Trenton would gulp in a dry throat, and he wouldn't stop her as she unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped his pants, and licked her lips.

She would go deep, first thing. She would astonish him.

Trenton would curse at the raw perfection of having his cock, the whole damned thing, in her mouth. As her head started rising and falling in his lap, his body would race toward a climax. His hand would grasp the rubber band securing her ponytail.

When he uttered her name, Vicca would moan on his cock. Drawing off, she would tell him that she liked how he said her name just then. She would ask him to say it that way whenever she was making him feel good.

Trenton wouldn't know how to respond, but his hand would encourage her down. Her lips would ride him until she felt his peak coming on. Then, she would wait at the top for a moment, holding that knob in her lips and letting her tongue usher him over the edge.

He would curse again when, to his amazement, Vicca plummeted to the very root of his cock, letting him deposit all of that pent-up rage straight down her gullet. He would grunt her name.

When it ended, Trenton wouldn't know how to act, but Vicca would ease his mind. Still bashful, she would tell him she kind of really liked how he tasted. She would assure him that no one would find out and thank him for making her a happy woman. Then, she would kiss him and whisper that she would always, always be there for him.

He would see the truth of it, all of it, in her eyes.

***

Vicca came home some minutes later. She didn't seem sad anymore. Content, more like. She made supper and sang quietly to herself.

Trenton walked in the door just in time for dinner, clearly a changed man. He was fresh-faced and joyful, like a fella with a wonderful secret.

And that made Vicca and the kids happy.

And I guess it eased my heart to see, too.

There was a lot of smiles and laughter at the table that evening.

It was the beginning of something. Just like there's seasons on the ranch that go on, I knew that when I was gone, Vicca and Trenton would take care of the place and raise those kids well.

There was a new generation grabbing the reins, and the generation after that was in good hands with Vicca and Trenton. And them two would take care of each other, brother and sister to the outside world, but in the night and in secret, a man and his woman.

I envied Trenton in the discoveries he would be making with Vicca in the days and weeks to come, but not too much. I knew Vicca would never abandon me.

Knowing her as I did, I wondered if maybe she felt especially lucky. Surely there would be nights ahead when, having drained one us, Vicca would tip-toe down the hall to drain the other. I imagined that would make her secretly glow with joy.

I didn't know about Trenton, but I was too old to bother about jealousy. I had my glory days with my sweet, loving Denise, and nothing can rob me of those perfect years.

Matter of fact, I think the whole thing would have made Denise real happy.

*****

End Note: Thanks for reading. Apologize for errors. -FS/Mr.Squeeze