Triple-Tryst Ch. 09

Using my knees I rose up and down, up and down on dad's lap, feeling his huge thing so stiff in me, stretching me so wide open and filling me so full that for long moments it no longer felt like my rectum, but some other orifice. The Jacuzzi water splashed against the sides of the tub from my up and down movements but the only thing I was interested in hearing was the way dad was gasping and sighing, and the little things he was saying between breaths.

It had all gone hot and heavy after a few moments of lounging in the Jacuzzi, and here I was actively humping my dad as he sat on the underwater bench, just jamming myself up and down on top of him, wanting more than anything to feel him gush inside me. That was all I wanted at that point—to please him. Just as before, just as with all the other times. And now I wanted it again. I was his lady and this lady wanted to radically fuck him till he gushed!

"...sweet, hot, sexy girl..." dad was murmuring as I rode his rod like some prancing horse on a carousel. Up and down and up to the tip. I squeezed the head of his thing with my ring and then pushed downward again. Dad gasped. "...sweet, sweet, darling honey-girl...." His hands left the edge of the tub where they had clung for so long and flattened palm-first on my chest. Dad's squeezing fingers mounded the flesh of my chest and he massaged these boobs firmly—with all the lust and want he was feeling. His touch sent a shiver all through me and for a moment my hole just clenched and quivered. I gasped and for a moment I just sat there, all the way down on dad's cock, enjoying the fluttering pleasure that had gone up through me. But then I braced myself on the tub's edge behind dad's head, got my feet flat under me and to his sides—I'd been kneeling with my feet straight back—and resumed humping.

But this left my chest really close to dad's face—in fact, just about touching. A moment later hands were at my back, pressing me, urging me closer, and then lips caught my left nipple and started sucking it. Saliva drooled and spilled, and then my right nipple was being sucked. I rode and gasped, and then dad grunted right against my chest.

"—Baby!" was all he said, and then I felt him push upward, rolling his pelvis to drive his dick straight up, and then he was making shuddering sounds. I could feel his thing undulating inside me, pulsating within my quivering sphincter, and I pushed downward hard until the tip of dad's cock pressed my inner places. It was gushing. He was gasping, and then my own climax started. I rode frantically up and down, rubbing that itching inward urge until semen raced up through me, straight up and through the core of the thing I had almost forgotten about. I felt the throbbing, the pulsation, the steady but urgent rhythm of pleasure as it came out of me in white streams. I knew what it looked like in the water because of my time with Courtney, but this felt so incredible I simply held myself there, letting everything come out of me that needed to. And it seemed like more than ever before!

Dad, on his part, kept thrusting up and down inside me. The quick smear of hand lotion before the storm had started was still working fine. So slick, but even slicker now with the huge amounts of semen dad was injecting into me.

"Girl! You hot, sexy slut-girl!" dad's lips were saying, but his voice was so soft, so held back, that I could hardly hear the words. I just kept holding myself down on his lap, knowing it was probably over, but then dad put his arms around my waist and stood—me still filled with his meat! Dad held me to him for a moment, and all I could hear was the water dripping off of both of us. I figured one of our elbows must've hit the OFF switch of the water jets, because it was pretty silent. Then dad thrust and pulled and sent a shiver up my spine. My cock lifted and poured a little more jiz out, and then dad lifted me bodily and set me back down on him, and I got another all-over shudder. He kept lifting and pushing me down on him while he rolled and pulled his pelvis and this whole thick, thrusting mass really took me places I'd never been. It seemed that every drop of come I had was forced out by that huge piston, and when it was finally over, there was a white puddle on my crotch that simply ran off my sides like a river!

Panting, clutching dad desperately with arms and legs, I finally started to recover and dad gently lowered us both back down into the water again. I held myself to him for a long time—even after his cock got too soft to stay up my ass—and then dad helped me sit beside him on the bench, and we both just sat there, calming down from the incredible storm. But that's what it was—like a storm. Calm and balmy, and then raging wind and trees falling down and rain going sideways. It had all started with dad's foot reaching out under the water and stroking my leg. He stroked my newly shaven leg and then slid down to play with my foot, and I tried to resist things, but I finally started playing footsie back, and everything just escalated. Soon he'd been rubbing his foot against my crotch, and I was doing the same, and then I had both feet up, surround his dick, and then...all heck broke loose.

But now we sat, both of us, totally wiped out, side by side. Dad reached over and switched on the jets again and that was even better, but better still was how soft and relaxed and feminine I felt. I snuggled up against dad and he put a tender, reassuring arm around me.

It felt so weird looking at my clothes—the same clothes I'd arrived at the basketball court with—laying there where I'd left them. I stepped into the jockstrap and was about to pull it up when I realized I just didn't want it on me. I stepped out of it and opted to just put on the baggy sweatpants and tee-shirt. Even the shoes and socks made me grimace a little, so I just stuffed them in the jockstrap and held them against me as dad and I walked back toward the stairs.

Like the other night, it was a wonderful, unhurried stroll across the field, but at one point dad stopped and told me to go on. I did, for a few steps, and then he was back with me.

"Do you practice that walk of yours?" he asked me. "I saw it before, in the kitchen and elsewhere, but...."

"What walk?" I asked.

"Oh nothing," dad said, but now I was curious and more than a bit self conscious. I kept up beside him but now I was realizing that I did, indeed, walk al little differently. Not like I was on some high fashion ramp, but it was just a little more relaxed I was thinking. A looser lower back and weight going back and forth and side to side. It felt more comfortable at any rate. Then dad slid his hand down to my waist as we went on toward the stairs, and I wondered if things could have been any better had we been waltzing.

I decided they couldn't have.