In the Bays of Sardinia 05 +PICS

Paul took a breath to explain to Lissy that as a father, he could not simply reach between her legs, but he saw from her posture that she would persist in her request. He shook his head silently and soaped her thighs. As he fleetingly marveled at Lissy's bottom, he noticed that a mound of foam had come loose on the small of her back and was sliding through her butt crack.

Lissy chortled up, "Ew, that tickles, can you please clean up the soap?"

Paul wiped a large flake of soap from Lissy's bottom,

but she squealed, "Deeper, Dad, it still tickles!"

Paul dared to embrace Lisa's thigh and stroke the foam from her butt crack with his inner hand.

When he switched to the other side and trailed his hand through her butt crack again, his daughter heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Papaaa." Lissy noticed that her father was turning away. She turned her head back and pouted, "You haven't even finished soaping my legs!"

Paul became dizzy. What was his daughter thinking, asking him to do this and in a public shower! He cleared his throat and tried to explain, "Eh, I don't know if I should. You can get there just fine with your own hands."

"Oh, Dad," Lissy begged, "you oiled my legs in the cove, too. It's the same with the soap... it's also very mild baby soap, you can't go wrong."

Paul looked at the bubbles of foam sticking to her pussy in the gap of Lissy's crotch, bursting one by one. He thought to himself that it would probably have been better down at the beach if he had just oiled her back and not her thighs as well. Now, it looked as if his daughter had acquired a taste for it...

Lissy seemed to notice his hesitation, because she bent forward and took her legs apart.

Paul caught sight of her little labia snaking right through her pussy, and he couldn't help but run his hand over the inside of her thigh. He tried to speak in a fatherly voice, but only croaked, "All right, let's give our girl a good soaping."

Paul lathered Lissy's legs. He worked his hands upward, sliding a thumb over her buttocks.

When Lissy felt the touch, she breathed, "There too, Papaaa."

She pushed her legs apart until Daddy's thumb could brush effortlessly through her butt crack. Lissy's heart leapt when she heard her father take courage to boldly declare, "We want our Lissy to be nice and clean, don't we?"

"Yes, Papa," she replied in an enchanted voice, and let her feet slide apart another inch. She felt Daddy's thumb move through her butt crack with increasing pressure and finally slide over her rosette.

"Oh, Papaaa!" breathed Lissy. The thumb immediately withdrew, but Lissy blubbered, "Keep going, Daddy!"

Already, she felt his fingers again, but this time, one circled her rosette. Lissy pushed her pelvis toward Daddy, and the foamy fingertip began to stretch her butt hole. Sighing, she encouraged her father, "Yessss!"

Paul's head was spinning, as he realized what he had done, but equally he knew his daughter wanted more from him. He placed his remaining fingers on Lissy's pussy and gently soaped skin fold after skin fold, murmuring as he did so.

"Soon you'll be a clean girl."

Suddenly, his daughter flinched. His finger seemed to have touched her pleasure bud because with a jerk, she pushed her pelvis towards him and his thumb sank into her butt hole.

Paul felt the sphincter pressing his finger, in the same rhythm Lissy was panting, "Papa!... Papa!... yeah!..."

He withdrew his thumb a little, felt his index finger at the entrance of her pleasure canal, and thrust gently. Lissy's hands almost slid off the wet wall as she bent down next to the floor.

"Don't stop... Papaaa!"

Paul guided his free hand between Lissy's thighs, and felt his way through the foam-covered labia to her pleasure bud.

His daughter pressed her bottom against him and gasped at ever-shorter intervals. Again, embarrassment spread through Paul, but he knew nothing else to say than, "Good girl?"

Lissy didn't answer anymore. Paul felt that she was about to explode. After a few seconds, his daughter quivered and he felt her tight pussy clench around his finger.

For a while, the two remained in their position. When Lissy could breathe calmly again, Paul withdrew his fingers and put his hands on her bottom.

When he realized what he was doing, he sank to his knees. Already on the beach, he had oiled Lissy; all right, that had been just a saucy game, but this in the shower...? Paul had no time to sort out his thoughts because already, his daughter had turned around and beamed, "Ew dad, that was crazy...! It's your turn."

At that moment, Paul realized that he was kneeling in front of his daughter with a rock-hard erection.

Before he could turn away, Lissy clapped her hands and exclaimed, "Oh how sweet...! because of me, Dad?"

Paul stammered, "You're good, girl, what do you think happens when a full-grown daughter asks Daddy to soap her back? That's when it's normal to... what are you doing?"

Horrified, Paul watched as his daughter squatted in front of him and reached for his hard-on with her soapy hand. When she had closed her fingers tightly around his erection, she looked up into his face with bamboo eyes and peeped, "Can I, Dad?"

Paul knew that Lissy would not wait for his consent, nevertheless it came out of him, "You can't touch your daddy like that..."

"But Daddy," Lissy fluted, "you touched me, too... everywhere... just now."

"Yes, but..." Paul tried to continue speaking.

But Lissy started moving her hand and explained in a soft voice, "I just wanted to see him once in daylight."

"What do you mean by daylight?" came a tortured whisper from Paul.

"When you and Mama," whispered Lissy, "when you two are together, I can see your shadows on the partition."

"You mean you spied on us?"

"You woke me up, Mom and you." Lissy looked at her hand and marveled, "When I saw the shadow, I just couldn't believe you were so big here."

At her words, Lissy squeezed, and Paul felt his little one rebel, but his daughter unconcernedly looked at his boner, as if she were bending down in the grass to pick up snails, like she used to when she was a little girl.

She marveled, "Now I know that your eh... penis is really as big as it is on the partition."

Paul slumped his shoulders and sighed in resignation, "If you've gone that far, just say dick."

Lissy squeezed Dad's erection like a lap animal and asked, "Can I wash your... wash your dick, Dad?"

Before Lissy's words had gotten through to Paul, she had already taken the shower soap and wrapped both hands around his erection. He propped himself against the cubicle walls and watched helplessly, as Lissy's foamy fingers slid along his shaft.

His daughter smiled up at him and wanted to know. "Am I hurting you?"

"No, not at all," Paul groaned, "what on Earth are you doing to your daddy..."

Lissy continued to knead his cock, as if she were engrossed in playing in front of her former dollhouse. She felt over every vein on his shaft, until she had her foam fingers circling his glans. Paul saw flashes. He knew Lissy would soon drive him mad and beyond.

All of a sudden, an impatient guest in front of the shower stalls seemed to have lost patience because he ran lamenting past all the doors, knocking on each one.

But Lissy was not dissuaded from pushing the cock in front of her face; on the contrary, the noise outside encouraged her to put her free hand under her daddy's balls and massage his boner with increasing vigor.

"Lissy! Lissy!... stop!" hissed Paul, staring with lustful horror into his daughter's eyes, but her relentless hand quickened, her fingers incessantly tickling his balls.

"Lissy!" panted Paul, "I'm going to cum!"

"Yes Daddy, do it for me!" gasped Lissy.

"Yes Lissy, my girl, I'll be right there... for you...!"

Lissy felt in her palm, Daddy's balls stand up. After some vigorous movements of her other hand, Daddy pressed his lips together, panting louder and louder. She felt it bubbling in Dad's boner, rising higher and higher until his load burst out of him and squirted, squirted, squirted against her cheek.

Paul had hardly recovered when he got up together with Lissy. They quickly washed the soap off their skin, dried themselves and got into their clothes. As they carefully opened the shower door, Lissy stuck her head through the crack, glanced left and right,

then whispered with a thieving smile, "That was Rosy, I recognized him by his voice. The stupid guy is gone."

Already, she had scurried away. They met in front of the shower facility and made their way to the tent. Silently, they walked side by side.

Paul cleared his throat and explained awkwardly, "Eh, Lissy, about earlier... I think this should stay between us. I don't know if it would be good if your mom found out that you touched me like that."

"Sure, Dad," Lissy giggled, "word of honor."

She thought for a while, then objected.

"But Dad, you touched me, too."

"It's okay," Paul replied gruffly, "I just mean no one should know about it."

"Well," chortled Lissy, "it'll be our secret... if you promise to oil my back again on the beach... and stuff..."

"All right," grumbled Paul, "but after vacation, we'll have to let it go. I can't imagine what would happen if that came out."

***

After their shopping, Mary and Terry looked for a free place in the Gelateria. On the forecourt, all the tables were still free. The waiter brought them a coffee and a can of Coke. Mary was pleased.

"You only get served this quickly here in the morning; in the evening you have to wait the longest."

"It's swell," Terry thought out loud, flipping through his computer game magazine, which he had bought earlier. His mother took out her fashion magazine, and they both became engrossed in their reading.

Every now and then, they sipped their drink, until Mary put the notebook down on the table and shifted restlessly in her chair. Terry knew his mother; she wanted to tell him something unpleasant. He looked questioningly at her, and she began.

"I think I need to talk to you, Terry."

"Yes?"

"I mean... about this morning... you know."

"Oh, I see," Terry replied coyly.

Mary saw that her son was looking around hesitantly, she reassured him, "We're sitting here alone, Terry, no one can hear us... uh, I just wanted to say... I don't know what got into me this morning... but anyway, I think we've gone too far."

"What do you mean, why?" asked Terry anxiously.

"I don't know how to tell you, I'm so ashamed. Think about it, son. I'm your mother, you can't have a mother getting involved with her son."

"I just wanted to rub your back, Mom," Terry whispered.

"Yeah," Mary squirmed, "that's all right... but, I don't know why... something inside me suddenly snapped, and I've been touching you all over. We'll have to let that go."

"Sorry, Mom, but I was all mixed up this morning, too. Maybe it's because I saw you with Dad."

"When? Where?" it escaped Mary.

"At night... in our tent."

"But it's dark at night... and the noise of the cicadas drowns out everything...!"

"The neighbor keeps his gas lantern burning all night. The light shines through your outside window and casts Dad's shadow and yours on the wall to our inner tent."

Terry noticed that Mom's cheeks were turning dark red.

After a pause, she wanted to know. "You mean you saw by the shadows that we...?"

"...that you were making love," Terry choked out.

"When did you see us?" asked Mary hesitantly.

"Every night, Mom," Terry answered contritely, but then he composed himself and said, "There's nothing wrong with it, after all, I'm an adult. I know parents sleep together, too."

"I'm so embarrassed," Mary sighed, "we're going to have to change this, Paul and I..."

She took a deep breath, showed a hint of her smile again, and giggled. "Now I understand why you suddenly have such an interest in your mommy when you watch me every night..."

"Shouldn't happen again, Mom," Terry muttered ruefully.

"Don't be sorry," Mary said smiling, patting her son on the thigh, "I think it's us parents who should take it on the chin. I don't know about Paul and me. Since we've been in Sardinia, we've been feeling splendid... the vacations, the sun... well, I'm glad we talked about it. We'll just forget what happened and..."

Mary leaned toward her son and murmured to him, "Of course, we'll keep our sweet adventure this morning to ourselves."

"It's okay, Mom," Terry replied. He was relieved to see that his mother wasn't really mad at him.

She flipped through her magazine and whispered to him with a wink, "And I won't tell Paul that you've been watching us. Why would I? I kind of like the idea of my nosy son who..."

Terry nodded his head, flushed, and turned back to his reading.

***

In the evening, Paul and Mary took a walk by the sea. It was already diking in when they sat down on the edge of an abandoned rubber boat on the deserted beach.

Silently, they gazed at the rippled waves washing up on shore, until Mary cleared her throat.

"Paul, I think we need to talk."

"We do all the time, my dear," he replied, kissing his wife on the cheek.

"I mean, about last night..."

"I'm looking forward to the next one, my dove," Paul cooed, kissing his wife again.

"Terry told me," Mary sighed, "I mean, he kind of just hinted at it... what I mean to say, Paul, he overheard what was happening in our sleeping tent."

"Oh, yeah?" indulged Paul, thinking back to what Lissy had told him in the shower.

"Yes," Mary continued, "the light from the neighbor is casting our shadows on the partition. When Terry is awake, he can see everything."

"Really?" asked Paul, thinking, then grinning. "So we'll have to be extra careful tonight."

"No, Paul," Mary implored her husband, "I think today we'll let it go for once and think about what we want to do."

"All right," Paul replied, shrugging his shoulders, then looked at Mary with a laugh. "I've got an idea too," he beamed, "there's some secluded coves nearby, we could swim there, all by ourselves... just you and me."

"You really think so?" giggled Mary coyly.

"You bet! Tomorrow I'll scout the grounds."