Idle Hands Ch. 03

At last, the flood slackened. When she pulled away, her mother met her eyes firmly.

"Here is what I want you to do," she said. "Go upstairs and take a quick shower. Clean yourself up. Put on something comfortable. Then come down here. You and your father and I need to have a talk and get to the bottom of where this sense of inferiority comes from."

"Yes, Momma," she whispered. She glanced around at the half-cleaned mess of the kitchen.

"Don't worry about that," Rachel said, her dark eyes gleaming. "I'll take care of it. Go."

*****

As soon as Sarah left the room, Rachel sent a text message to Alex.

Come back home before noon tomorrow, and I cut your balls off. : )

She turned off her phone and walked back out to the deck, where Joshua was sitting on the swing chair with a glass of wine in his hand. His head was tipped back and for a moment she was afraid he had fallen asleep.

"Looking at the stars?" she guessed, sitting down beside him.

"Yep," he replied, not moving. "I could see them a lot better in Peru," he continued. "Less light pollution. But I suppose Woodridge does have its charms." Without looking he reached out an arm and hooked it around her waist, pulling her close so he could give her a long, leisurely kiss.

"I just saw some headlights pull out," he said, when their mouths finally parted. "Jeremy?"

She nodded, not divulging what Sarah had told her. She wasn't sure how he would react. Would Josh be angry at Sarah for throwing herself so shamelessly at a man she barely knew, or would he be offended on his daughter's behalf?

Maybe both.

Instead she slid away and tugged him to his feet. "Come on in," she said.

"Your daughter needs you."

*****

Josh sat in his leather armchair, shaking inside, as his daughter padded quietly into the room.

You thought you were the risk-taker in the family, huh? Good God. You don't have anything when it compares to Rachel.

Sarah was wearing a white terrycloth bathrobe, belted around the middle, which reached below her knees. Her brown hair was still damp from the shower, and fell in gentle waves past her shoulders.

To her father's eyes, she looked very confused and very young.

And very, very desirable.

"Come and sit down with me, sweetheart," Rachel said, patting the sofa. She was tucked into one corner, dressed in jeans and a light sweater. Josh, at her explicit order, was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of flannel sleep shorts.

Sarah sat down warily, her body tense. It nearly broke Josh's heart to see her there, so fragile, so vulnerable. He ached to take her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her, but was warned away by Rachel's glance. She put an arm around Sarah's shoulders, squeezing her tight.

"I want to apologize, Mom," Sarah said, looking at her hands. "For losing my temper earlier. It's not your fault you and Daddy are back together. And I should be happy for Alex and Maria. Although," she said with a quivering smile, "I don't know what Maria sees in a dope like him."

"There's nothing to apologize for," his wife said softly. "In fact, we should be the ones apologizing to you." Josh nodded his firm agreement. "We've been so caught up in ourselves we haven't told you often enough how proud we are of you."

"Or how much we love you," Josh put in.

"It's not easy, we know, being the child of successful parents," Rachel continued. "People see the life you live, the money and the car and the big house, and think everything is just fine.

"What they don't see," Josh went on, picking up the conversation, "Is how hard it is to live up to that example. One parent is a successful lawyer, working high-profile cases and trying to save the planet. The other one is an artist who is always on the news, usually for pissing off the establishment."

"Plus," his wife said, her voice slightly bitter, "Your mother acts like you're a disappointment when you decide on an unconventional career."

"And your father isn't around to support you," Josh put in, not liking the picture he was drawing.

"It's easy," said Rachel, "Very, very easy, to decide the fault is in yourself. That you are somehow inferior." Very carefully, she started massaging the back of Sarah's neck, her hands softly kneading the tight muscles. As her daughter relaxed into her arms, she drew her back until her back was against Rachel's chest.

"That you're not smart, or that your parents' divorce was somehow your fault.

"Or that you're unattractive, and therefore undeserving of love.

"Sarah, it is not true." Before her daughter could resist, Rachel had reached around and unknotted the sash of the bathrobe. Once it was loose, she spread it wide, leaving her exposed from head to foot. "Josh, do you think your daughter is pretty?"

"No," he said, swallowing. "I think Sarah is fucking gorgeous." He met his daughter's stunned eyes. "It's true, Sarah. You are a lovely young woman and sexy as hell. Those long legs, your face, your eyes..."

"My boobs aren't as big as Mom's," she said in a small voice.

"God!" Rachel said, her voice uncharacteristically frustrated. "Does every woman judge themselves by the size of their tits? Like fifteen year-old boys with their cocks? I thought you were smarter than that, Sarah. So your breasts are smaller than mine," she continued. "So what? That just means they won't sag like mine do." She caught Josh's glance and flushed slightly. "Well, eventually," she amended. "Josh, why don't you come over here and kiss Sarah and prove to her how beautiful she is? You're okay with that, aren't you, honey?" she said to her daughter.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he added. "Your mom tells me you're attracted to me. And I think you can tell what I think about you." He gestured to his shorts, where his erection was straining at the fabric. "But this will be your choice. Not mine."

Sarah gave a nervous giggle. "No, Daddy," she said firmly. "I want you to."

Josh stood and walked slowly over to the sofa, thinking about how carefully Rachel had set this up. Keeping him away from Sarah until explicitly invited. The way she was present as a witness and a protector, in case Sarah should get cold feet. Having this little tableau in the living room, rather than one of the bedrooms. Even keeping Alex away. Everything was designed to give his daughter as much confidence and control over the situation as possible.

God, how did I get here? he thought. The events of the past few days, when taken individually, had seemed to proceed logically, one step leading inevitably to another. But when grasped as a whole, they were completely ludicrous. How did I go from a phone call and a slim shot at a reconciliation to blow jobs in the workshop to falling in love all over again to making love with my daughter, with Rachel looking on approvingly? It's ridiculous. And dangerous. If anyone finds out, we'd be shunned at best and arrested at worst.

But he knew, looking at Sarah, he could not turn away from her. Not when doing so would hurt her so badly. He knelt at her side, letting one hand fall gently on her opposite hip, his thumb caressing her baby-soft skin.

"You're a grown woman now, Sarah," he said softly. "And a lovely one. I would like for you to call me by name when we are together. My name is Joshua. Or Josh. And you are Sarah to me. Not my little Pumpkin. Not anymore."

"Yes, D...Josh," she said. Her brown eyes were glowing with love and trust.

"It's time, Josh," Rachel said. Her voice seemed deeper, somehow. Almost commanding. "Take her. Make your daughter your lover."

Before he could even think about protesting or disobeying, Josh had leaned down, his lips brushing Sarah's gently. In an instant, she had opened her mouth wide, her arms wrapped around his head, pulling him down on top of her. Her insistent tongue forced his mouth open and rampaged inside, wrapping around his own tongue with frightening insistence.

"Whoa!" he said, or tried to. What emerged from his mouth was actually a strangled grunt, muffled by Sarah's mouth and tongue. Gently, but firmly, he grasped her arms and pulled them away from his head, then backed away. He crooked his mouth as he looked at his daughter. "Slow down, honey. I'm not going anywhere. You don't need to stick your tongue down my throat right away."

"But all the other..." she trailed off.

"Let me guess. The boys you've been with kissed like that?" She gave a small nod. "Well, no wonder you weren't happy with them. Listen, sweetheart. Sometimes hard and fast is good. When you're both really excited and you don't have much time. But usually, slow is better. And when it comes to kissing, learn from an expert." He shot a glance at Rachel. "I certainly did. I learned more from my first time with you mother than I had in my entire life before then."

"It helped that your father was a quick learner," Rachel added, her hands softly stroking Sarah's shoulders. "Try it again, dear," she said.

He bent again, and this time Sarah let him lead. Her lips softly parted under his, and while her eager tongue did its best to investigate every nook and cranny of his mouth, the kiss was slow, sweet, and sensuous, rather than the clumsy, urgent attempt of earlier. Her hands reached up and explored his back, running up and down the length of his spine, then reached under the hem of his shirt. He shivered as he felt her warm palms on his back, the feel of her as she touched his body as a lover for the first time.

"That's very good, sweetheart," his wife whispered, and Joshua couldn't be sure whether she was encouraging her daughter, or himself. Sarah's insistent hands tugged at his shirt, and he raised up, letting her pull it up over his head to be carelessly discarded on the floor. He lowered his head, kissing the hollow of her neck, the curve of her shoulder, then set his sights on her delectable young breasts. He cupped one in his hand, his mouth teasing the slopes of the other, and looked up at Sarah. "They're beautiful, darling. Just like the rest of you."

"You're sure?" she asked, her eyes achingly vulnerable.

"I'm sure," he replied, his fingers, feather-light, stroking her velvety skin. "No, they're not as big as your mother's. But your nipples," he said, dragging his thumb across one swollen bud, "Are larger. And they stand up higher as well. Makes me want to kiss them," he teased, and bent his head to suckle on the straining, taut nub.

"Oh," she sighed, her body writhing under his touch. "Josh, that feels...amazing. Please. More," she said, and he felt her hand reach down and grasp his throbbing erection trough the flannel of his shorts.

"Anything you want, darling," he said, and bent to her breast again. He hadn't just been assuaging Sarah's lack of self-confidence. Her aereolae were larger than Rachel's. And her nipples were nice and thick, exciting him as he dragged his lips across them and flicked them with his tongue.

He let his hand wander lower, down to her stomach, then pausing to play at the delightful strip of hair rising from her mons. Her legs parted easily under his fingers, granting him access to that most private of places, but he skipped over her nether lips to let his hand stroke the long, lean length of her thigh. She was so different than her mother, but no less beautiful. She put him in mind of a cheetah or a greyhound. A creature who was built for speed.

"Josh," Sarah's soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "I'm ready now. If you want..."

He removed his mouth from a breast and frowned up at her. "Is that how those boys treated you? A little kissing, a little breast play, and straight to the main event?" He snorted at her nod. "Idiots. You might think you're ready, sweetheart," he said. "But you're not. Not really." He let his lips curve in a wicked smile. "When I'm done with you, though, you will be."

He levered himself up onto the couch, wincing and stifling a sigh as his muscles protested. "Old bones," he said. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

"I'm interested in only one bone, Joshua," his daughter said, then blushed.

Rachel laughed, and Josh started. Despite her position behind Sarah, he had almost forgotten she was there. She smiled at him over Sarah's shoulder, and he relaxed, full of wonder that this incredible woman could be his wife. How many other people were so completely free from jealousy that they could take part in this? Or even think about allowing it?

He sank between his daughter's thighs, inhaling her aroma. "Now be sure to tell me," he said, looking up his daughter's body to meet her trusting eyes, "What feels good. And what doesn't. My job right now is to make you happy." Finding the angle awkward, he gently lifted one of Sarah's legs until it rested on the back of the sofa, giving him unimpeded access to her entrance. Her lower lips were slightly parted, gleaming in the soft lamp-light.

"I will...Daddy."

At her words, spoken softly, his cock gave a frenzied lurch, and he had to shut his eyes against the jolt of desire. When he opened them, he found her looking at him, her lips curled knowingly.

"I am an adult, it's true. But it's also true that I want my daddy in my bed. I have for a long time. Ever since I was old enough to know what it was I wanted. But I didn't have the courage to say so. So when we make love, I am going to call you what I want. And I know you well enough to know how much it turns you on. Doesn't it?"

"God help me, it does," he answered. He wanted to say more, but simply shook his head. He lay flat on his stomach, his cock an iron bar in his shorts. He could feel a dampness at his crotch, as his weeping slit soaked the fabric with pre-come. He bent his head, and tasted Sarah for the first time.

Her taste exploded in his mouth, salty and sweet and completely her own. When he became aware of what he was doing, he found himself lapping at her labia, his mouth and tongue diving deeper and deeper into her with every stroke, as if he were trying to crawl inside her. Her aroma surrounded him, and he inhaled desperately, as if her smell were oxygen, and he would pass out from a lack. He gripped her young thighs, her tan young skin glowing with health, and pulled her towards him, trying desperately to pleasure his daughter.

And by her reaction, he was succeeding. Sarah shook under his hands, her body quivering, but her hips slowly rolled her groin towards his face, then away, over and over, caught up in the ancient rhythm of desire. When he looked up at her, her face was flushed, the skin glowing. "Oh, God, Josh. No one...no one has kissed me so good. Down there. They had no idea what they were doing."

"Morons," he said flatly, drawing his head away for a moment. He pushed her thighs apart and ran a finger up her lips, watching through hooded lids as she jerked under his touch. "As sensitive as you are? Any man who cared for you instead of himself could make you happy. Like I am going to." He was torn between anger at the callow boys who had failed to please Sarah as she deserved, and gratitude that he was the one who would teach her the true joys of being a woman. He kissed her damp folds once more, then homed in on his ultimate goal: the bright pink nubbin of her clitoris.

Luckily for him, his search was an easy one. Unlike some women, Sarah's clit was large and prominent. Fully engorged, it emerged from its protective hood, a tempting target. He leaned forward and fastened his lips around it, then lightly flicked it with his tongue.

"Nnrrghhgh!" Sarah grunted, her eyes popping wide open and staring at him with shock. "Ohhhh, fuck, Daddy. Keep that up. Right there. Please, don't stop." She braced one arm on the back of the couch, the other at her side, providing leverage, and raised her mound, gently humping his face. In response to his questing tongue, her labia spread wide, unfurling like the petals of a flower, giving him access to her most secret places.

But he had her clit well and truly captured, and he was not going to relinquish his sweet prisoner. He suckled on the throbbing nodule, smiling to himself as Sarah writhed and twisted under his touch. Her juices bathed his mouth and chin. Her gasps grew shorter and sharper, the pitch higher and higher, until she was all but keening under him. He felt a harsh grip in the hair at the back of his head, holding him in place, and her legs lifted and draped around his back, her heels softly drumming into his spine.

"Getting close, Daddy. Close. So close," she panted. "Please, don't stop." Her eyes were squeezed shut, and Josh knew she was concentrating completely on her own pleasure.

Suddenly, her hips snapped up in a sharp spasm, her pubic bone catching him a blow on his mouth. A high wail broke from her lips, and he watched, entranced, as the muscles of her belly rippled as her orgasm washed through her.

"Damn," she breathed when she recovered. Her eyes, though her mop of disheveled brown hair, were awestruck. "My God, Josh, I've never..."

"What?"

"Never came with...with a guy. Ever. Either with his mouth down there," her brows pinched in irritation. "Not that many tried. Or with their...with their cock. And you did it in like ten minutes." Recovering some of her composure, she batted her lashes winsomely. "Can you tell me the secret. Please? So I can sell it to my girlfriends?"

"Not much of a secret, Pumpkin," he said, kissing the insides of her thighs, enjoying the way the muscles quivered in the aftermath of her climax. In his shorts, his shaft raged for release, but he ruthlessly sat on his desire. Quiet, you. Some things are more important than getting your rocks off. "All you have to do is care more about your partner's pleasure than your own. Your mother taught me that." He paused, then glanced around quickly. "Shit. Where did she go?"

"What?" Comically, Sarah looked behind her, as if expecting Rachel to still be on the couch. I don't know. She must have slipped away when you were eating me out." A dimple appeared in her cheek. "I guess she thought we could handle things on our own." She looked down towards his groin. "Poor Daddy, she said. "You're all hard and stiff. And I haven't done anything for you. Do you want to go upstairs so you can fuck my hot little pussy? You were right. Now it's ready for you," she said, her dirty talk causing Josh to squeeze his eyes closed as a jolt of lust tore through his body. Her hands framed her lips, softly rubbing. "We could do it here, I suppose," she said, her voice softly considering. "But the couch is awfully narrow. Wouldn't you rather be in a bed?"

"Yes, you little minx," he said hoarsely. He rose up on his elbows and crawled up her body, pausing only to kiss her delectable mouth. Only iron will kept him from pulling down his shorts and burying himself in her then and there. But she deserved better than an awkward fuck in the living room. With a groan, he heaved himself upright, and held out a shaking hand to his daughter. "Your room?" he said.

"Well, I don't think Mom would want us in your bedroom."

"Don't be too sure," he said, unable to stop the words before they tumbled out of his mouth. Trying to recover, he helped Sarah to her feet. "But you're probably right. This time."

*****

Sarah lit three candles and set them on her bedside table. The soft yellow light cast the familiar room in a new focus. The old, comfortable bed with the handmade quilt, passed down from her grandmother; the posters on the walls; the bookcase, stuffed full of cookbooks and paperbacks, all took on new significance, draped in flickering shadows.

Because this time, her father was there. As her lover. Her heart thrilled to see him, dressed only in one of the pairs of flannel sleep shorts that he liked to wear, leaving his chest and arms and legs bare for her hungry gaze.