Swimming with the Dolphins

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Its strange Daddy," I started that evening, as we sipped wine on an outdoor couch while our steaks sizzled on the grill.

"Whats that Sam?"

"I was happy today Daddy."

"Is that so strange?"

"For me, yes," I admitted. "I thought I'd be so embarrassed today, without any clothes on and everything, but"

"But you were so excited by all those male bodies that you forget to be angry at me," Dad said laughing, but with a look that nakedly exposed his love for me.

"Ha, ha Daddy," I groaned as I nestled against him. "They do come in all sizes though don't they? And you know Daddy, for an old man you're not so bad, in fact you're quite good-looking, some might even say a hunk. I saw more than one elderly lady looking closely at you Daddy, checking out the equipment so to speak," I teased.

"Old ladies," he huffed, pretending to be hurt. "It was that cute blond, you know, the one just over from you, you know shaven, down below," he leered, "She's the one for me. She was quite interested I think."

"God Daddy, she was, like sixteen," but then remembering, stopped in mid sentence.

"What," Daddy asked as I sat silent.

"I was just remembering. It was the summer before Mom and you, well, you know. Anyway, my friends and I were all out in the backyard sunbathing in our new little bikinis and you came out shirtless. They all thought you were so sexy."

"Who did?"

"Oh, Jean and Chrissie and Annie; all my old buddies from those days. And when you left the yard, Chrissie touched herself, down below you know, and said, 'Ooooooooh Sammi, I wish it was your Daddy's hand inside my panties.' It was gross, so gross," I finished.

"I wish I'd known."

"Daddy, she was only sixteen! You were married."

"Not for much longer," he groused back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After dinner and a few more drinks, I started again, my lips now more than loosened by the drink I'd swallowed, "Daddy, do you like sex? I mean, do you still do it?"

"Of course honey, Christ, I'm old, but not that old," he protested, clearly insulted by the question.

"But do you have a girlfriend? Where is she?"

"I'm officially playing the field sweetie. Remember I've only been down here six weeks."

"But you've had sex lately?" I pressed, the drink giving me courage.

"Yes, two nights ago," Dad replied grinning.

"WHAT? With who?"

"It s none of your business," Dad began, but as he said it I knew the old bugger was dying to spill the beans, and he finally added, "Actually a barmaid I happened to meet, a very nice, intelligent, young girl"

"A barmaid! How old was she?"

"You're very nosy for someone who's refused to have much to do with me for almost ten years Samantha. She was nineteen if you must know," he finished, a proud grin on his face.

"What! That's younger than me. Christ, she's almost forty years younger than you," I gasped. "Why'd she want to sleep with you?"

"Thank you, my love, for those kind words. In fact sweetie, many young girls are attracted to experienced older men. Many ladies, in fact, find your father quite dashing Sam. And what about you, your hubby is what, fifty-three, four?"

"He's only fifty-two Daddy, and I don't sleep with......"

"You don't what?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon, my little Sam, give," he insisted, his cop senses immediately picking up my nervousness.

"WE DON'T HAVE SEX DADDY!" I finally spat out.

"What do you mean?" he asked, a perplexed look on his face.

"I mean Daddy, I don't sleep with the man you call 'what's his name' any more, in fact I haven't for over four years."

"So who are you having sex with, making love to? Is something wrong with him? Is he sick?"

"Whats wrong with him Daddy is that he sleeps with every little bimbo student he can get his little cock into. And I haven't slept with a man in four years," I finished, burying my tear streaked face in his arm.

"OHH."

"OHH! Is that all you can say," I demanded, as I took another stiff shot from my drink.

"Well, I did try to warn you about him."

"Shut up Daddy," I warned.

"Yes, you're right my little one. I think maybe we should both go to bed now before we get too drunk and maudlin," Daddy agreed.

As I wobbled back into the house, I surprised both him and I when I mumbled, "Thanks Daddy, for today I mean, for everything."

Quickly glancing at me and recognizing I had actually complimented him, the first he'd received from me in years, his face broke into a broad smile as he answered, "My pleasure Sam, it was all my pleasure."

"And Daddy," I added, a mischievous grin on my face, "Do you think we could go back to that beach again tomorrow, maybe at least I'll get to see what I'm missing."

December 24th

We were both nursing hangovers as we sat down to juice and coffee the next morning, and as we faced each other I think we both felt a nervous sheepishness towards the other. Had I really told Daddy I hadn't been laid in four years, I wondered, as I watched him trying to remember exactly what he'd told me.

"C'mon honey," he finally said as he downed the last of his coffee, "Get your suit on and I'll take you for a tour of the bay."

"Aren't we going to the beach Daddy?"

"Sure sweetie. After I've shown you all the highlights we'll stop at Haulover and spend the afternoon there."

"We can go there by boat?"

"Yup," Daddy smiled, "Now go and get your stuff; the boats pulling out in five minutes."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

God, he's really handsome, I thought, as I watched Daddy standing proudly at the wheel of his ocean going forty-footer, bare-chested and with the wind blowing his hair wildly, grinning as drops of water from the spray splashed off his golden skin. And then I smiled, remembering what he'd looked like naked, the size of him, and the feel of his fingers as they....

"What are you smiling at?" he suddenly asked as we flashed past Bayside and under the bridge, leaving Biscayne Bay for the wider ocean.

"Nothing. Everything," I mused, understanding now why a pretty barmaid might succumb to his charms.

"What's that?" I yelled, pointing ahead to what seemed like a mirage in the middle of the ocean.

"Just a house," he yelled back, our voices vying to be heard over the deep throaty sound of the 340 horse power inboard.

"But it's in the middle of the bloody ocean," I protested open mouthed as we neared the large wooden structure sitting on its spindly legs miles from shore.

"It's called Stiltsville Sam," he laughed, and then went on to explain the history of this extraordinary group of fishing houses in the middle of nowhere.

"But it makes no sense," I argued, but of course it did, their existence a proof of mankind's incredible adaptability, imagination and skill.

It was while we were eating lunch at a small restaurant on the Miami River, a plate of stone crabs in front of me, that I asked him, "What else are you going to do with your life Daddy? Your still young enough, don't you want to try something else?"

"You mean besides fishing and boating and swimming and nineteen year olds?" he asked, small flecks of light dancing in his dark eyes. Then, after a pause, he added, "Well I am starting at FIU in January."

"FIU?" I asked, confused.

"Florida International University hon, home of the Panthers and a top notch English Department."

"English Department?" And then suddenly remembering blurted out, "They have a great school of creative writing Daddy, I've read about it. It's one of the best in America. What are you going to study there Daddy?"

"Writing, of course," he replied, a wide smile splitting his face. "I'm going for my MFA – master of fine arts, majoring in creative writing."

"But Daddy, you can't write!" I sputtered, astounded at his words. "I mean, you haven't done much writing, I'm sure you might be able.......... But this is an advanced degree......... I mean," I stammered.

"Thanks sweetie," he huffed, a hurt expression on his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry Daddy, but, I don't understand.......... How did you get accepted? ........ I mean, was it some sort of senior citizen thing?"

"My little barmaid didn't think it was a senior citizen thing honey," he complained, but then with a big grin added, "I fooled them Sam."

"Who? How?"

"Well, of course they wanted samples of my work," he said winking. "Now who do I know who could provide me with stories?"

Seeing my blank look, he went on, "Who else but Samantha Danielle Scouries."

"What?" I couldn't help shrieking, and as twenty heads turned towards me, wailed, "You used my stories in your application? Where'd you get them? You can't have, its......its dishonest Daddy."

Holding a finger to his lips, he whispered, a sly leering Groucho Marx smile on his face, "Just don't tell anyone sweetie."

"But Daddy," I started, but the pure audacity, the nerve of his action left me wordless.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"That's it honey," Dad said, pointing towards the shore as we roared north through the bay after lunch.

"That's what Daddy?" I asked listlessly, still not recovered from the jolt produced by his words. 'It should be me,' I couldn't help thinking, 'I'm the writer, why does Daddy have all the luck. And with my own stories!'

"The campus, honey, that's where I'll be studying, the Biscayne Bay Campus of FIU. I'll even be able to boat to school if I want," he said gleefully, his words just adding to my anger.

"It looks more like a resort Daddy, I don't think you'll learn much there," I responded bitterly.

"But think of all the young coeds Sammi, ready to help an old man with his homework," he chuckled back at me.

God, he's enjoying this, I suddenly realized, as he turned the boat towards the gap leading from the Intercoastal to the ocean and the nude beach just beyond.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Today my shyness was gone and after I had quickly stripped, I stood proudly for seconds, stretching languidly; happy now to catch the men sitting close by staring avidly at me. "Ahh," I shrieked when I suddenly felt a hand touch my back. "Gee Daddy, you startled me," I complained as he spread the sunblock over me.

"I think we just might be able to solve your lack of sex problem, honey," he whispered in my ear as his hands continued to caress my back. "In fact, I think I see about fifteen eager candidates right in front of you."

"Daddy!" I hissed, blushing as I turned toward him. "Ohhhh," I moaned as my breasts moved into his rubbing hands. Jumping back and then quickly sitting I took the tube from his hand muttering I'd do the rest. My tits were still tingling minutes later, every square inch of skin his fingers had touched seemingly on fire as my nipples stretched upward.

"Do you want to do me now?" I heard.

"What! Oh OK, yes," I stammered as I took the tube from his hands.

"I'm not touching your penis Daddy," I whispered as I slowly worked the rich white cream deeply into his chest and then down over his stomach.

"I should hope not Sammi," he chuckled, obviously enjoying my discomfort greatly. "Innocent young girls touching men's penises are a recipe for disaster," he added laughing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"ROD! Oh Rod," I heard yelled, and opening my eyes saw two naked teenagers rushing towards Dad.

"Candy, France," Dad intoned almost reverentially after jumping to his feet, and then gave each a big kiss on each cheek.

"We were afraid we weren't going to see you today," the blond, Candy, trilled, as she leant into Daddy's chest, rubbing her surgically enhanced bosom enthusiastically against him.

"Merry Christmas girls, I'm glad I got to see you before you left."

France was now rubbing against Daddy and as I looked up at them couldn't help but notice as she rubbed her shaven mound against his long penis.

Dad finally noticed me as I stood and belatedly made the instructions, "Candy, France, this is my daughter from Ohio, Samantha; Sam these are my friends Candy and France."

"Oh, like wow Mr. S," Candy enthused, "that's so cool, a father and daughter able to be nude together. God, my Daddy would have a fit. You're lucky Sam," she said turning to me, "to have such a nice father. And he's handsome too," she gushed.

"And sexy too!" France added, her pussy now directly against Daddy's now growing cock, as she stood against him on tip toe.

"Why don't you girls join us?" I heard Daddy offer.

"We can't Mr.S, we've got to leave for Orlando in a few minutes. I'm taking France home for Christmas to Mommy's house. We'll be back next Tuesday though Rod, we'll be working our regular shift," she finished, a leering invitation on her lips.

"Yes, I'm working on a special dance for you Rod," France interjected and as she turned to go, she ran her hand leisurely over Daddy prick while she licked her lips.

"Friends! God Daddy! Where do you know those two from? Are they strippers?" I demanded as soon as the little sluts were out of earshot. "How old are they anyway?"

"They're professional dancers Sam, very nice, hardworking girls," Daddy lied.

"They're sluts Daddy, I saw her put her hand right on your big prick," I insisted. "You haven't slept with them have you?"

"I think its time we both had a swim honey," he replied infuriatingly, and as he pulled me to my feet and escorted me to the water added, "Maybe we shouldn't tell each other everything about our sex lives honey, you know, keep a few secrets."

"Christ, what's to tell, I don't have a sex life," I muttered as Dad effortlessly lifted me in his strong arms and tossed me into the surf.

Christmas Eve

"I'd forgotten how much I love the Midnight service on Christmas," I told Daddy as we walked down the stairs of the church, still elated from the hour of singing the Christmas songs I'd loved so much in my youth..

"Don't you and whats-his-name go?" he asked.

"He's not a practicing Christian anymore Daddy."

"The asshole doesn't seem to practice anything as far as I can see," Dad snorted back. "I don't get it honey, here you are, you and Mr. Wonderful, in bed, and he doesn't do anything?"

"We sleep in separate rooms Daddy."

"Oh!"

"Will you read me a bedtime Christmas story Daddy," I finally asked, breaking the silence that had hung between us as we had ridden home. "Like you used to," I begged, "Remember, when I was young and you'd put on your white beard and your Santa hat and you'd let me curl up next to you in bed....."

"I remember," he answered gruffly, but I knew he was happy when he draped his arm around me and pulled me against him.

I was sitting up in bed when Daddy entered; I dressed primly in an old, long flannel nightgown, the only bedwear I'd brought from home. "You found a hat, a Santa's hat, and a beard," I cried as he approached the bed, dressed in a long, dark red silk robe.

"It's Christmas, what'd you expect?" he snarled as he sat next to me on the bed and curled his arm around my shoulder, drawing me against me.

"Is it 'The Night Before Christmas'?" I eagerly asked, reaching to grab the book from his hand. I was a seven year old girl again as Daddy started, the first line of 'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house' music to my ears.

But by the time Daddy got to the end, both of us were singing out the lines at the top of our voices, no need for the book as we easily dredged every syllable from so many happy memories we each had of other Christmases –

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle,

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

"Oh Daddy, I'm so happy I came," I said as we fell laughing into each others arms.

"Me too honey," Daddy replied, bending his head to kiss my forehead. "Now you tell me a story," he demanded.

"What story?"

"One of yours. Tell me one of yours Sam," he insisted.

"But I don't have any with me," I protested.

"You're the writer," he laughed, "Make one up."

And I did. My head resting on his chest, I started to tell Daddy a story about a beautiful princess, a princess who foolishly ran away from her father the king in anger, a princess who had many unhappy experiences before she finally realized her mistake. "And the Princess returned home Daddy," I whispered, "And her Father the King welcomed her with open arms and they lived happily ever after."

"Daddy?" I said looking up. "God, you're asleep, you fell asleep during my story," I screeched, as I shook his shoulder to try to wake him. Dead to the world he slept on, so finally, laughing, I gently pulled the beard and hat from his head. "I guess you'll have to sleep with me," I mumbled to the room as I slid the robe from his shoulders, baring his body to the waist.

'Do you have any bottoms on?' I asked silently, as I cautiously undid the belt and opened the robe. 'No, I guess not,' I muttered as I pondered my next move. 'I saw him naked all day,' I argued to myself, 'what's the big deal' and quickly slid the silk under his body.

I sat watching him for minutes, my eyes continually flying to his groin, drawn to the sleeping monster, so innocent now as it lay in repose across his wide thigh. 'What are you doing,' I hissed to myself as my fingers lightly lifted it, gently stroked it, before dropping it angrily.

'He's my father, just my father,' I continued, in a weird conversation with myself, and then quickly lifted my flannel nightgown over my head, thinking, 'It's much too hot for flannel in Florida, I'll be more comfortable if I'm naked.'

I lay awake for hours, ecstatic at the feel and comfort that a man's body was providing me, the first such comfort I'd had in over four long years. 'I wonder if he finds me attractive, sexy,' I asked myself as Daddy slept, 'if he thinks I'm as pretty as France and Candy?'

'He's not interested, you little fool,' I answered myself, as I slid a brazen finger slit along my gash and then urgently frigged my unhooded clit. I fell asleep finally, wet between the legs and aching to feel a man penetrate me, knowing that somehow in the days ahead I was going to address this need I'd been ignoring too long.

I woke up at dawn, spooned with my back against Daddy's massive chest, a hardness poking uncomfortably into my thigh and rear. Still groggy, I peered down my body, and when I lifted my top leg, trying to ease away from whatever was bothering me, it popped up and out between my legs.

'Jesus!' I muttered as I watched transfixed as Daddy's cock jutted out from between my legs, making it almost appear as if I'd grown my own penis overnight. Quickly turning my head, I saw that Daddy slept on, his hard prick clearly a manifestation of some erotic dream.

"Are you dreaming of me, Daddy?" I whispered as my hand stole to this long growth that stabbed between my thighs.

'He's your father, you slut,' my conscience railed as I rubbed Daddy's big cockhead lightly along my now moist slit, my pink nether lips distending as I forced the crimson head inside.

"No!" I squealed as I rolled away from him and out of the bed. 'It's not right', I told myself, panting as I looked down on the man I now knew I loved more than any other, the only man I wanted, the only man who could quench the fire that now burned deep in my centre.

For minutes I sat watching him from the side of the bed, arguing back and forth with myself;–

- He's your father!

- I love him!

- You're married

- My husband hates me

- It's against the law

- He's so handsome

- He'll never want you

- He loves me

As I watched I finally saw his erection slowly fall, his erotic dream (of me?) finally over. "Oh, I'd love to suck you, kiss you," I whispered to Daddy's lovely cock, it's lone eye seeming to invite me as it lay softly among it's bed of pubic hair.

I slept somehow, fitfully, dreaming of Daddy, touching me, kissing me, filling me, flooding me....... awakening only just before ten to find him still sleeping soundly.