The Laundry Room Pt. 03

The Laundry Room (Part 3)

Kathryn M. Burke

There was one Friday evening when Jonathan seemed to be on tenterhooks, as if waiting for something to happen. I'd never seen him so jittery. It was an excited, almost ecstatic jitteriness, but still it bothered me. What the hell could be going on? What was about to happen?

I found out when the doorbell rang. Opening the front door, I stood staring at--my father.

No one can deny that Patrick Ryan looked good. His face, topped by a shock of untidy black hair, was classically handsome, and for as long as I can remember my heart did a little pitter-patter whenever he turned those dark, penetrating eyes in my direction. His frame was solid, muscular, almost like an athlete's, and those biceps could pick up any female with ease--not that he would ever hurt a girl (or anyone), but you felt the quiet strength of those arms and the equal strength of his firm thighs as you sat on his lap.

Usually his broad smile made his eyes twinkle, but at the moment his expression was brooding, uncertain, even a little afraid.

"Holy cow!" I cried. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"May I come in, please?" he said in his low, resonant voice.

"Of course," I said, stepping aside.

Everyone was in the living room. We'd been getting ready to watch some dopey movie on TV, but that plan went out the window with Dad's arrival. Maureen, with a girlish squeal, leaped up from the sofa and actually jumped up into Dad's arms. He had to catch her by the thighs (actually by the butt) and hold her up as she pressed against his chest, throwing her arms around his neck and plastering messy kisses all over his face.

Mom, however, sat in an easy chair as if she was a marble statue. After several moments of absolute silence, she began breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I thought she was either going to faint or burst into tears or rush out of the room. But she just sat there.

"What are you doing here, Dad?" I said again. "I mean, it's wonderful to see you, but you should have let us know you were coming."

"Jonathan didn't think that would be a good idea," he said slowly.

"Jonathan?" I said, perplexed. "What does he have to do with this?"

"I found him through some computer searches--you know, the Internet, social media, stuff like that," Jonathan said with mock humility. Actually, he was supremely self-satisfied that he'd not only located Dad but had persuaded him to pay us a visit. "I thought it would be best if we talked things over."

"You thought it would be best?" I said. "Where do you get off--?" I stopped abruptly. I was going to say, Where do you get off interfering in our family? But he was already an integral member of the family, wasn't he? As I thought of that, another thought flitted through my mind and made me shiver: How much did Jonathan tell Dad of what goes on in this house?

"He's right," Dad said. "We need to talk about some things."

"Like what?" I said.

There was an awkward silence for a while. Then Jonathan exploded: "Like how naughty Maureen has been!"

"Me!" Maureen squawked. "What have I done?"

"You know what you've done," Jonathan said in the voice of a district attorney cross-examining an obviously guilty suspect. "You need to spill the beans."

"I didn't do anything--really I didn't!" Maureen cried. But I could tell from her tone of voice that she was lying.

"Maureen, dear," Dad said in a quiet, sad voice, "we might as well confess the truth. Do you want to, or shall I?"

"I'll do it," Maureen said glumly.

"Will somebody tell me what's going on?" Mom said in a shaky voice. It was the first words she'd uttered.

"Oh, Mom," Maureen cried, "I really didn't mean any harm! I just wanted to--"

"You'd better not hold back," Jonathan said menacingly.

"Okay, okay! Jeez, you'd think I'd chopped someone's head off." With a huge sigh, and doing her damnedest not to look Mom in the face, she began.

"You remember that time, Mom, a little more than a year ago when you had to go stay with your sister, Tara? I guess she'd had an operation and wasn't doing so well afterwards, and so you went there for about two weeks to take care of her. You thought that Dad, being a man, couldn't manage by himself and would probably starve to death if he didn't have a woman around to tend to him. Fiona was away somewhere--"

"Yeah," I cut in, "I was visiting my stupid boyfriend in Texas. I'm glad I gave him the boot."

"--so it fell on me to do the job. I was happy to, since I love this old place and looked forward to being kind of the 'mistress of the house'--you know what I mean? It began pretty well, and Dad and I had a lot of fun getting to know each other all over again. It had been five years since I'd lived with him, and we'd kind of grown apart.

"But I have to say, doing all the cooking and cleaning and looking after the house--well, it made me feel kind of like"--her voice dropped suddenly--"a little wife."

"Maureen!" Mom whispered.

"I couldn't help it, Mom! You know I've been a little wild, and I've had a fair number of men in my bed. But that was all just goofing off--none of it was serious. But here I was, in this house, making dinners for a man who went to work in the morning and came home in the evening, and afterward we'd watch TV or listen to music or just talk about our day. I felt"--she choked up unexpectedly--"married to him.

"And so, one night, I crawled into his bed.

"Oh, Mom, I wanted him so bad! He's such an incredible man--so much nicer than all the silly guys I've let into my body. I suddenly felt ashamed that I'd been such a--well, you know what. I somehow persuaded myself that Dad was my husband, and I was just coming to his bed--our bed--as any wife would do after a long day.

"Dad was a bit surprised, as you can imagine. 'What is it, dear?' he said. I knew he'd never speak harshly to me--it's just not his way. I just snuggled up to him and said, 'Oh, Dad, I just wanted to be near you.' I was wearing this short little nightgown that didn't cover very much of me, and I guess Dad could feel every part of my body as I nestled up against his side. But he wasn't about to do anything. His hand was on my lower back, but it stayed there. But the closer I got to him, the more excited I got. I started kissing the side of his neck--I loved the feel of it, and I could smell the heavenly aroma of his body.

"Once I pushed his hand down to my butt, but he moved it away at once, saying, 'No, dear, we mustn't.' But by this time I was going crazy, and I reached out and stroked his bare chest (Dad was only wearing briefs), then moved my hand down to see if anything was happening... lower down.

"As my hand touched his underwear, I could feel a pretty big bulge there.

"I looked up at him, and he had this totally scared expression on his face. He licked his lips but couldn't get any words out. I'm sure he wanted to say, 'Maureen, you little tart, what do you think you're doing?' He'd never say it like that (he's too nice), but that was probably what he was thinking.

"But by this time I knew I was gonna go for broke. I slipped my hand down under the waistband of his briefs--and felt his cock for the first time.

"He moaned softly when I touched it, but didn't make an attempt to move my hand away. Taking encouragement from that, I peeled his briefs down to his knees and exposed his dick to my sight. Omigod, it was huge! Just about as big as Jonathan's, I'd say. It looked so tempting as I fixed my eyes on it. So I just had to--

"Well, I just had to put it in my mouth.

"I wrapped that cock around my lips, taking in as much as I could--which was only about half its length. But that was enough. It felt so incredible in my mouth, and I also couldn't help rolling his balls around with my hand. I loved the tufts of fur all over that sac of testicles! You better believe I was getting wet too. So after a few minutes I stopped, looked him in the face, got up on my knees, and whipped my nightgown over the top of my head.

"You know how much I love riding a guy. So I got into position, squatting over Dad's legs. I pretty much had to do that, because Dad just lay there like a statue, gawking up at me with these wide eyes and taking in my beautiful self. I guess the fact that he was seeing his full-grown daughter naked was freaking him out. And as I took his big cock in my hand and raised myself up to put it in me, he watched with mouth open as it slipped into me, inch by inch. Oh, man, did it feel good! He wasn't absolutely the biggest cock I'd ever had in me, but it was pretty big!

"So I just started bouncing up and down on it. Dad, still gazing up at me, slowly reached out and grabbed my boobs. It's like he'd never seen a pair of tits before. He put his hands on both of them, squeezing them a little and also rubbing the nipples. That felt great, lemme tell you! Meanwhile, I was happily slathering my juices all over his dick--so much so that it made wet, slapping sounds as our bodies came together. Sometimes Dad reached behind me and took hold of my butt--and why not? It's a great butt.

"I could tell he wasn't going to be able to hold out very long. After several minutes he started letting out this low whine, and then--bang! I felt the first splash of his discharge in my twat! Then a second, a third, and lots more. Boy, did Dad have a lot of come in him! And now it was in me. I felt such a sense of closeness to him, like I'd never felt with any other guy.

"And then my own orgasm began kicking in. It was kind of a slow thing, but the feel of his stuff pumping into me triggered a climax that began in my pussy and spread out all over my body. I started to shake and quiver all over as my climax reached my brain and created a sort of explosion there. Oh, baby, it was really something!

"I really didn't want to get off of him, but Dad was getting soft and he'd probably slip out soon, so I pulled his thing out of me and flopped down next to him. We were both staring up at the ceiling, thinking about what had just happened. But then Dad said in this frightened voice: 'My God, Maureen, what have we done?'

"I had a feeling Dad would react that way. He's so traditional! 'Dad,' I said, 'it's no big deal.'

"'No big deal? You're my daughter! We shouldn't have--'

"'Look, Dad, we're both adults. We can do what we like.' Of course, I was ignoring the fact that I'd just made Dad commit adultery against Mom.

"To distract him, I leaped on top of him and stretched out full length on his body. Then I started kissing him all over his face and neck and shoulders, and even those silly little nipples that men have. I guess my tactic worked, because he started rubbing my back and then moved down to squeeze my butt. He really liked that butt! And that gave me an idea.

"'You wanna go in there?' I said.

"'Wh-what do you mean?' he stammered.

"'My ass, Dad. Do you want to go into my ass?'

"He gasped. 'You like that?'

"'Sure I like it. I've done it lots of times.'

"'You have?'

"'Yeah. Do you do that with Mom?'

"'Um, yes.'

"'You do? That's great!' I couldn't help chuckling, thinking of Dad shoving his cock up Mom's posterior. 'So... you wanna do it?'

"He gave me this nod, kind of like a zombie, and then, saying, 'We need lube,' he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a tube of hand lotion. How convenient! Maybe that's what it was there for. He squeezed some of the stuff onto his fingers and lubed me up pretty good. I rolled off of him and lay down on my stomach. I really don't like 'doggie-style' for this--or for anything--and lots of guys have said they like a girl to lie flat for this procedure. So that's what I did.

"He slipped right in, like the old pro that he was. He was in such a hurry to plug up my butt that he went in almost all the way. That made me wince just a bit--remember, his cock was bigger than most that had been in me! But I got used to it, and so did he. He was draped all over me--and, as I expected, reached around and grabbed my fabulous tits while he continued to pummel my poor bottom. Again those slapping sounds could be heard, and I also felt his heavy sac of balls rubbing up against my labia. That's an unusual feeling! Dad was really getting into it, grinding his hips into me like there was no tomorrow. And he was also kissing--and even licking--my neck and the back of my head and anywhere else his lips and tongue could reach. Oh, man, was he excited! And so was I.

"I figured that he was so keen on what he was doing that he couldn't really do much for me. Don't get me wrong: I love having a guy in my ass, but I like some other things as well. So as Dad kept pounding me and holding onto my tits, I slipped a hand down my front and began playing with myself. That was real heaven--all my areas (pussy, ass, breasts) being stimulated at once! There's no way a guy could ever know what that's like. I tell you, women are just made for sex. And so he shot his second load into me, and I had a thunderous orgasm of my own..."

As Maureen reached this stage of her story, she was becoming increasingly incoherent. That's because her tale seemed to inspire herself: she had slipped a hand down under the hem of her skirt and around the crotch of her panties, and she was now vigorously rubbing her labia and clitoris while trying to keep on talking. The rest of us--her two parents, her sister (that would be me), and Jonathan--were staring at her stone-faced as she pleasured herself. Sure enough, just as she finished talking she let out a kind of strangled squawk that made it clear to everyone that she was having a climax right there in front of us. She was writhing and shaking on the sofa, her tongue hanging out of her mouth as one hand continued to stroke her pussy while the other squeezed one of her boobs.

Her paroxysm finally died down, and with a flushed face she gave us this dreamy expression that said, All's right with the world!

"Are you about finished?" I said.

"You bet I am--for now!" she said, cackling.

"I guess you slept with Dad more than that one time."

"Well, sure. As many nights as we were together--until Mom came back." She chortled at the memory. "Of course, we did it at other times of day, not just at night. There was one time--"

"You don't need to go into that," I said sharply. I directed my attention to my father. "So, Dad, are you telling us you bailed from this household because you slept with your daughter?"

Dad, who had slid into an easy chair at the far end of the room, hung his head and nodded. "How could I look my wife in the face anymore? I was so ashamed. My own daughter!"

"Yeah," I said, "but it was all her doing."

"It wasn't, Fiona. I could have stopped her--and I didn't."

Well, I guess he was right about that. Turning to my mother, I said, "Mom, I know that what Maureen did was super-naughty--but is it really the end of the world? As she said, they were both adults. And it's so obvious that Dad still loves you. Don't you, Dad?"

"I love you all," he said earnestly. Somehow his words even seemed to take in Jonathan.

Mom heaved a huge sigh before saying, "I guess it could be worse. I mean, he could have committed adultery with a stranger."

"I'd never have done that, Kathleen," Dad said.

"I know you wouldn't."

"Mom," Maureen said, "it's just another way of expressing our love. Can't you see that?"

Mom glared at her daughter as if thinking, Yeah, right, that's what it was. But she said nothing.

At this point Dad got up from his chair, made his way slowly to his wife, and knelt down in front of her.

"Kathleen, dearest," he said, "I love you so much. Please take me back."

As Mom gazed down at him, Dad reached under her dress, took hold of her panties, and pulled them off of her. Mom made no resistance. Then Dad carefully raised up her dress, exposing her sex for all to see, and then buried his head in it. Clutching her hips with his hands, he began licking--tenderly at first, but with more and more vigor and enthusiasm. Mom just stared down at him, a mix of surprise and excitement on her face. Little moans came out of her mouth, and she licked her lips with her tongue as she began writhing on her in response to Dad's actions. Then, with a sudden cry, she felt an orgasm coursing all through her body. A few tears rolled out of her eyes as Dad kept on nursing that climax until she finally pushed his head gently away.

I have to say, it was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. What a way for Mom and Dad to get reconciled!

Dad stood up and, picking Mom up easily from her chair, proceeded in a stately manner up the stairs and to the bedroom they used to occupy together. We could hear him close the door, and we knew what would happen over the next several hours.

"You did it!" I cried to Jonathan, jumping onto his lap and kissing his face. "I thought you'd made a huge mistake bringing him over here, but it worked!"

"I knew it would," he said quietly, with justifiable pride. "Your mom and dad are deeply in love, and once I knew why they'd split up, I figured it wouldn't take much to bring them back together."

"Well, you were right about that." Then, turning venomously to my sister: "You, on the other hand--what a bad girl you are! Seducing your own father!"

"Hey, I did it for love! It was really meaningful."

"Yeah, but you caused both Mom and Dad a lot of heartache. If it hadn't been for Jonathan, they'd still be apart."

"Well," she said smugly, "I guess that means we'll just have to reward him, won't we?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I'm sure you both know what I mean."

And with that, Maureen led both me and Jonathan upstairs to her bedroom, where she and I made sure to show Jonathan our gratitude in every possible way.

The next night it was understood, without anyone having to say anything, that Maureen would end up in Dad's bed. I think Mom was still trying to wrap her head around that idea, but her delight at having him back in her life--not to mention the prospect of having Jonathan to play with--reconciled her to it. I didn't hear from my sister exactly what she and Dad had done; but her knowing smirk, not to mention the theatrical way she winced and wriggled her butt as she sat down to breakfast the next morning, made it clear that they'd had a grand old time.

A little later she pulled me aside and said, "You know you're next."

I pretended to be dumb. "Next for what?"

"To be with Dad," Maureen said with painful precision.

"Is that right?" I said, attempting to be flippant. "Haven't you and Mom worn him out by now?"

"I doubt it. The guy has a quite a lot in his tank."

I didn't want to talk about it anymore: I knew it was going to happen, but the thought of it still freaked me out a bit. I mean, this was my Dad, for God's sake! I shivered with both fear and anticipation as I envisioned myself wrapped in my father's arms, but there was still a kind of hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wandered around that day (a Sunday) in a daze, not really paying attention to anything. I only nibbled a bit at my dinner, and then tried to watch a movie with the family--and forgot it the moment it was over.

Dad then approached me, held out a hand, and said, "Shall we go up, dear?"

I stood up like a robot and silently let him lead me upstairs. I saw both Mom and Jonathan watch me fixedly, although Maureen professed to be sublimely indifferent.

We were granted the privilege of the master bedroom with its king-size bed. It wasn't actually the bed where I'd been conceived twenty-seven years ago, since my parents weren't living in this house then; but I still felt weird. Dad was calmly undressing: I knew he only wore his briefs to bed: he said pajamas made him too hot. Was he waiting for me to strip naked? I dashed out of the room, went to my own bedroom, and quickly put on a nightgown--a long one that went down to my ankles--and then came back to the master bedroom. Dad looked at me with a soft smile; he was already down to his underwear. There was a bulge there, but I tried not to gawk at it.