Running Together Pt. 01-05

Part I

Tom Clark slapped his belly as he looked at himself in the mirror. Rather than the flab he gotten used to over the years, his flat hand met real muscle, and like they said on those old cereal commercials, he no longer pinched more than inch on his waist.

It was true that at the age of 47, Tom was in the best shape of his life, and it was all thanks to his daughter, Brin. After a scare with his heart - which had turned out to be nothing more than anxiety and extra pepperoni with one or two beers over the limit - she'd insisted that he start working out and running with her. Brin had been a helluva high school basketball player, and she worked part-time at her university's wellness center as a personal trainer. Those first few weeks had been pure hell, but now Tom easily loped along beside Brin three miles each morning without gasping for breath or with a stitch in his side.

With a healthy body, Tom had also rediscovered a healthy sex drive. He seemed to be as randy now as he'd been 25 years ago, when he'd been surrounded by bodies as tight and alluring as that of Brin. And while one of those bodies was now a little curvier and had made a few concessions to gravity over those 25 years, it was still the body Tom most craved. Lexi. Brin's mom and Tom's wife.

Unfortunately for Tom, Lexi's new promotion meant a lot of travel, and last night she'd left for 10 days on the West Coast.

"Dad, you almost ready?"

"Yeah, baby, be right there," Tom answered, reaching for a t-shirt. His bedroom door opened slightly as Brin peeked around it. He caught a glimpse of her auburn hair in the mirror as he pulled the shirt over his head.

Brin was impressed - and amazed - with the abs she saw just a hint of as Tom turned toward the door and pulled the shirt down. Just a few months ago, those muscles had been buried under a beer belly, but now her dad was as tight as any of the gym rats from the U. She took no small amount of pride in knowing that she'd been the one to whip Dad into shape.

"Get a move on, old man, the sun's nearly up and I don't want to be responsible for some senior citizen dropping dead of heat stroke during my run," she teased.

"Thank you, m'am, may I have another," Tom grinned, pushing past his daughter, bending to grasp his ankles.

Brin laughed, but felt herself flush strangely as she noticed Tom's calves and the backs of his thighs flexing as he stretched. She'd always enjoyed this kind of easy relationship with her dad, but lately she felt something inexplicable when they were together. Butterflies in her stomach. A quickening in her pulse. With any other guy, she'd have called it...a crush.

That, of course, was patently ridiculous. This was her dad, of all people. Still, she had to admit, he now looked, well, sexy in his running shorts.

"Yo, Earth to Brin, come in Brin - I thought you were in a hurry," Tom said, shaking Brin out of her revery.

They went out the door into the driveway, stopping to stretch and warm up by running in place for a few minutes. Suddenly Brin gave her dad a little shove in the chest.

"Catch me if you can, old man," she whooped and bounded down the street.

Tom recovered quickly and fell in behind her. Just a few neighbors were stirring as they followed their usual route. When Tom drew alongside Brin, he suddenly sprinted ahead, leaving her about ten yards behind. He looked back over his shoulder, but Brin wasn't going to take the bait this time. She just wagged a finger at Tom and kept to her own steady pace.

Brin found her eyes again drawn to the back of her dad's legs and, well, his butt. She had to admit it to herself - her dad looked damn good, and she liked looking at him. More than once, her mom had jokingly thanked Brin for her dad's new body.

"And especially his stamina," her mom had said with a wink one evening as she slipped into their bedroom.

For a moment, the comment didn't register with Brin, but when it did, she stood there a little stunned and highly amused. But a little tickle somewhere in the back of her brain also hinted at arousal. That night, she'd had some very vivid erotic dreams that she could barely remember when she woke up the next morning. But given the fact that she woke up with her hand in her pajama pants told her all she needed to know about how nice those dreams had been.

Distracted by these thoughts, Brin didn't see the neighbor's golden retriever bound into the road in front of her until the last minute. She took an awkward leap to avoid him, but still caught her foot on his back and came down hard on her left knee. The dog gave a little "Whoop," and went on his merry way while Brin looked down to find some serious road rash and a little blood trickling down her leg.

"Holy shit," she screamed. "Stupid damned dog!"

Tom pulled up when he heard Brin yell and turned back to see her sitting on the side of the road, her knee drawn up under chin and a nasty looking cut there.

"Whoa, Brin, you okay?" Tom asked as he knelt beside his daughter. Without a thought, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and used it to gently start brushing away the dirt and asphalt pebbles on Brin's knee. Not the most sanitary thing in the world, he thought, but it's better than nothing.

Despite the pain in her leg, Brin again couldn't help admiring her dad's new body, and she felt that tingling in her belly again.

"I'm good Dad, just help me up, please." Brin said, looping an arm around her dad's neck. But instead of helping Brin to her feet, Tom scooped his daughter into his arms and turned toward the house.

"Dad, what are you..." Brin began.

Tom kissed her cheek softly and said, "Shh, it's the least I can do for my best girl."

The truth was, Tom liked having his daughter in his arms like this again, her own arms around his neck and her head against his chest. Brin had always been a "daddy's girl" and she'd grown up way too fast it seemed.

Memories flooded back to Brin as well. Of laughing uncontrollably as her dad tickled her; of him being there in the middle of the night to hold her when she woke up with a bad dream; the way he held her when she'd had her first heartbreak at 12 or so. She snuggled closer to her Dad, but feeling the bare skin of his chest against her cheek again gave Brin that spark she couldn't quite explain to herself.

Tom carried Brin back down the street and up the driveway. She was amazed when he held her in one arm, reaching out with the other hand to push open the front door. He quickly crossed the room and lay his daughter gently down on the sofa.

"Let's get this cleaned up," Tom said. "Be right back."

Going to the kitchen to retrieve a first aid kit, Tom remembered that he was still shirtless. He detoured into the laundry room to check the dryer for a fresh t-shirt, but as he opened the door and rummaged around inside for something, he found only a load of lingerie. Without really thinking about it, the hooked a finger through a lacy waistband and pulled out a tiny thong. He smiled to himself as he pictured Lexi in it - until it dawned on him that he'd never actually seen Lexi in it.

"Who the...," Tom thought, and then it hit him: this sexy little thing belonged to Brin. The heat rushed to his face as he quickly tossed the undergarment back into the dryer and backed into the kitchen. He fumbled around a bit in the designated "junk drawer" until he found a small plastic box with bandages and antiseptic wipes and grabbed a couple of each.

"Hey, no hurry here, gangrene probably won't set it for another minute or two," Lexi called from the sofa, and when Tom entered the living room, he was greeted by a smart-ass smirk on his daughter's face. She'd pulled her hair back into a scrunchy, and Tom couldn't resist an old teen years taunt.

"Ahh, Pebbles, you've misplaced your bone," Tom said, motioning toward Brin's 'do. Without missing a beat, Brin tossed a cushion at him.

"Yo, Fred, bring your paunchy self over here and fix my leg," she said, never losing the smirk.

Tom came around and knelt by the sofa. He slipped off Brin's running shoe and sock then opened one of the wipes. Taking her foot in his left hand, he used his right hand to clean the wound completely. When it was clear of debris and the little blood was wiped away, he reached for a bandage, tearing it open with his teeth.

"Uggh, man tear paper with big teeth," Brin said in her best Tarzan voice and pushed her foot against her dad's bare chest. When Tom instinctively flexed his pecs, she grunted, "Hmm, him strong man!"

"I think we'll be able to save the leg, young lady," Tom quipped as he finished applying the bandage. He lifted both of Brin's legs enough to plop down on the sofa and let her feet settle in his lap. He smiled at his daughter as he innocently ran his fingers lightly over her feet and squeezed them gently. From the time she was a baby, Brin had loved this. Any time she was scared or restless, Tom or Lexi could get her to sleep in no time with a simple little foot rub.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Tom touched Brin. With the pain in her leg gone and her dad's hands on her feet, Brin felt completely relaxed. She flexed her toes and stretched out her calves as she enjoyed the massage, and when she did, she grazed her foot against Tom's belly. Just as when she felt his bare chest against her cheek as he carried her, she got a pleasurable jolt somewhere in her brain when she came in contact with his abdomen.

Tom had been ready for one of Brin's patented wisecracks when he felt her toes against him. But she just murmured an almost sensual, "mmmm," and when Tom glanced at her, she had her eyes closed and an almost beatific smile on her face. Tom reclined his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes as well.

When Tom stopped rubbing her foot gently, Brin opened her own eyes and saw why: he'd fallen into one of his famous "cat naps." Her dad could pretty much will himself to fall asleep wherever and whenever he wanted, and he often caught a quick few winks that he claimed left him feeling refreshed - actually he called it "rough and ready" - when he woke up.

Brin realized that she was actually sort of stroking her toes against her dad's abs. With him napping, Brin knew she could openly admire Tom's body and handsome face without him thinking she was perving out. She didn't want to wake him, so she softly lowered her foot to his lap. As soon as she did, she realized her heel had actually come down against his crotch, but she was enjoying the moment too much to pull away and risk ending it.

Brin again thought back to the sly wink her mom had given that night a few weeks back. She imagined her dad reclining on the bed with his book, wearing the boxers - and nothing else - he slept in. Did her mom go to him on that king-size bed and lean back to put her foot in his lap? Did she run her toes up and down his abs the way Brin had done? Had she let her foot fall softly back against his crotch and feel his dick start to harden the way it was...NOW!!

Brin jerked her foot back as she realized her dad's cock had actually become erect under foot. Tom's eyes flew open at the disturbance. He looked to Brin and found her breathing deeply as if she'd finished her run, her faced flushed, a little sheen of perspiration on her forehead. He instinctively reached for her, his palm out in the classic "checking your temperature" position. But when he touched her, Brin gave an almost imperceptible twitch backward.

"Brin, are you okay? Do you have a fever or something," Tom asked.

"No, no, dad, I'm feeling fine, just fell asleep for a second and had a bad dream I guess," Brin said, trying to hide her embarrassment. "I'm gonna hit the shower."

She rose from the couch, wincing just a little at the pain in her knee.

"Here, let me help you," Tom said, rising himself.

"NO!" Brin shouted, then caught herself. "No, Dad, seriously I'm good, ok? You're the best doc around, but I can take it from here."

"OK, sweetie," Tom said, planting a kiss on his daughter's forehead, which come to think of it, didn't feel feverish after all.

That brush of his lips sent a shiver down Brin's spine that thankfully didn't show, and she smiled up at him before turning toward her room.

"Thanks, Daddy," Brin sighed. "For everything."

Tom stood there, watching her walk away, and for just a second, he thought of that thong and the sway in Brin's hips that so much like her mother's. He pushed the thought away as her bedroom door closed, and Tom headed for his own bathroom and a much needed shower.

Part II

Brin leaned her back against the bedroom door and tried to get hold of her emotions. 'Dad must think I've gone insane,' she thought.

What had happened in the living room had scared Brin plenty. But what scared her most wasn't that her dad might think she was crazy or even, God forbid, he had felt her foot rubbing against him. The really frightening thing was that Brin was still so turned on from her erotic daydream - and that part of her wished she hadn't woken her dad up until he'd grown fully erect.

'Omigod, I'm a perv! But, Jesus, it must be big,' she thought.

By now, she wasn't just imagining what her Mom and Dad may have been doing behind closed doors. She was thinking back to the tingle she'd felt when Dad picked her up and carried her to the house. The pleasure she felt when he rubbed her feet and legs. And the jolt that had gone through her body when Dad's lips touched her forehead just a minute ago.

Standing there against the door, Brin began to idly rub her hands over her chest. Her nipples were throbbing in the tight sports bra she wore, so she quickly pulled her t-shirt off and got out of the bra. She turned then and looked at herself in the full-length mirror.

She traced a finger around an aureole, watching the nipple grow even longer. She licked the tip of her finger and teased her nipple, then traced her fingers ever so lightly down to her tight belly.

Looking up at her hair, Brin smiled as she thought of Dad calling her "Pebbles" then reached up to pull the scrunchy away and let her full, thick hair fall down around her face and shoulders.

'Do you like it this way, Dad? Am I your Pebbles now, or do you seem someone different,' she wondered. She conjured up a a picture of her Dad behind her, running his hands through her wavy hair as he stared into her eyes in the mirror. She put her hands over her breasts as if to hide them from his gaze, and the vision in her mind floated away.

Brin turned again, looking back over her shoulder at her butt in the mirror. She didn't feel vain at all that she thought it was perfect. She knew that the guys she'd been with had loved having their hands on it, squeezing her cheeks together, holding on to her ass tightly while fucking her. She slid down the compression shorts and stepped out them before moving towards her bed.

She tried to shake away the thought - of HIS hands gripping her tightly, HIS fingers digging into her ass, HIS cock pounding into her. She closed her eyes and tried to picture a guy from class, but HIS face kept swimming up in her brain and her hands found their way between her legs. Her fingers sought the wetness and she traced a slow line up her slit. Again she tried to push away the dirty thoughts even as she began to finger herself and tease her clit.

'No. No, can't do that. Fuck, feels so good. No...no...NO! He's my Dad, Daddy, sweet Dad. I'm sick, I'm dirty, I'm a slut for...oh God fuck God so good...slut for for wanting him.'

The thoughts tumbled rapidly through her mind and the pace of her rubbing increased as well. She was scared, so scared, so turned on, so fucking turned on. She started to shake all over, and it was all she could to keep from screaming.

'Don't let him hear, don't scream, don't let him...fuck so good...fuck, I want him to hear, to see, to, oh fuck, I'm cumming...'

Lights seem to explode in Brin's brain, jagged images of writhing bodies, pictures too quick to process.

Even before her orgasm was over, guilt started washing over her. She knew she was wrong to think such nasty things, to cum while picturing them.

Brin wasn't some sheltered little girl.She'd lost her virginity eagerly years ago, and she had no shortage of available guys - and a few girls who'd flirted with her - willing to sleep with her. But this was something altogether different. This was just perverted; to think of watching her Mom and Dad in bed; of rubbing Dad's cock through his shorts and making him hard; of picturing him fucking her.

These thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door, and she scrambled to cover herself.

"Brin," her Dad called. "I'm taking off for work. I'll call you later, and we'll go out somewhere for dinner tonight. No use in Mom having all the fun while she's gone."

"Oh, okay, Dad," Brin said nervously. "I'm jumping in the shower now and heading out soon. Have a good day!"

"You, too, sweetie," Tom said.

Brin lay there until she heard his car leave the driveway, then crawled out of bed, not daring to look at herself in the mirror as she passed it.

Part III

'Something's up with Brin,' Tom thought as he settled in behind his desk.

It wasn't just the strange way she'd practically run out of the room this morning. There was something indelibly different about her lately, something he couldn't quite articulate. He'd noticed her looking at him sometimes while her thoughts were somewhere else. They still had the easy banter they'd enjoyed practically since Brin could talk - she might have inherited her mother's looks, but she'd gotten Tom's sardonic sense of humor - but every now and then she seemed to drift off in the middle of their verbal dueling.

Then again, Tom knew Brin wasn't the only one who'd acted strangely this morning. Before she'd jolted him out of his catnap, Tom had been in the middle of a disturbing dream.

In the dream, Tom was reclining on the sofa with Lexi standing between his knees, her back to him. His wife had on a very short black skirt that hugged her ass beautifully and a silky blouse that clung to her curves. She was performing a slow striptease for him. Actually, this was more than a simple striptease - it was a full-on lap dance.

Lexi was seductively swaying her hips back and forth, up and down, closer and closer to his face and crotch. He wanted to touch her, but for some reason he couldn't move his hands. He started to ask Lexi to turn around, only to realize his voice seemed to be gone as well. But none of this seemed to be important in the dream as Lexi suddenly rubbed her scrumptious ass against his growing cock. She dry-humped him a few times before sliding away again, keeping her back to him the whole time.

By her movements, Tom could tell she was unbuttoning her blouse. He saw the tails come open and fall away as she undid the last button. He knew she was unclasping her bra, and he saw her maneuver to free herself from the straps without letting the blouse slip completely off. She tossed the bra carelessly away and continued her erotic writhing.

Tom was almost desperate now to see her naked breasts, to have them swaying in front of his face, to have her offer him a nipple to suckle. But he still couldn't find his voice, and Lexi continued to keep her back to him. Even when she finally slid the blouse off and let it fall to the floor, she still refused to turn around.

Lexi moved in between Tom's knees again, so close that he could feel the heat coming off of her. His cock was engorged, tenting the running shorts he was wearing obscenely. She continued to move until she was pressed against him, his face on her bare back. Tom inhaled her scent and began to kiss along the small of her back, just above the waistband of her skirt. Lexi bent over, pushing her butt up into his face, and put her hands on her knees as she gyrated.