What Michelle Wants Ch. 01

"Goddamn you fuck me so good," she groaned, as another wave of pleasure washed over her.

The feeling of the cock and the butt plug together was exquisite, and Eric couldn't hold off forever from the pleasure he got from her hot, tight pussy. Her body was sweaty, attuned to his. He looked in her eyes and she gave him the slightest of nods, letting him know she was ready for his cum. His orgasm felt enormous, consuming his whole body, suffused with the pure joy of letting himself go fully, releasing everything he had in his balls for her, shot after shot after shot after shot of cum.

He kissed Helena deeply after he came, as he always did. Her ass clenched tighter against the butt plug, extracting one last shudder of release from what he'd given her.

After a minute of resting next to each other and kissing, his softening cock slipping out of her well-used pussy, sticky with cum and lube, they talked.

"I'm not going to see as much of you now, am I?" she asked. "Now that your daughter is coming back home."

"She's a grownup. I think she'll let me go on dates, Lena."

"I know, it's just...you should spend time with her as well. I'm just thinking about how I fit into all this. Do I get to meet her?"

"Of course you do. I have room for both of you in my life. Don't feel competitive."

"I know. She's your daughter, and I'm the woman you fuck."

"You're more than that. But you're right. I don't fuck my daughter."

Helena turned on the girly voice again. "Mmmmm, daddy, you have the biggest cock," she cooed, reaching down to toy with his stick half-hardness.

"Be nice, baby girl," he said. His mind flashed to the photos Michelle sent him the other night, of her wearing a provocatively tight top and shorts. They were like before and after shots in his feed---the girl looking for trouble, and then the girl who found it, who got intoxicated and...what? Played with? Fucked? He tried not to imagine what Mich would be up to dressed like that, but it was like trying not to imagine a purple elephant. Those bow lips, those full hips and tits of hers. If she'd wanted trouble that night, she'd found it.

"I'm allllllways nice, daddy," she said.

"If you're as nice as you say, you'll clean my cock like you love to, sweetie" he said. And, sliding down the bed, she did. He was right. It was one of her favorite things to do.

**

"Ohmigod, Mich! You sexted your dad!"

"I did not! Jeez, Kell, it's not like that!"

"Take it easy, girl, I'm teasing."

With finals done, there was nothing left for the two of them to do but bullshit and pack. They gathered up their things in the living room, half-emptied of stuff they gave to Goodwill, the rest left for summer subletters. They caught up on their separate paths at the party the other evening. It was indeed Kelly who Michelle saw getting vigorously fucked in a corner. It was indeed Michelle who Kelly spotted heading upstairs with a cute, lanky guy. Michelle shared that she'd given Gus a blowjob but not the awkwardness of it, her masturbating in the bathroom, her frustration and give-a-shit departure. Kelly had seen the cum in her hair, the evidence of her letting loose; she couldn't deny it. But finding it impossible to describe her wish to be taken, to want a man who knew how to take ownership of himself and hence her, she instead shared the before-and-after pics she'd sent her father. She presented it in a way that suggested do you want to see something silly I did that night? But what she felt was, Tell me I've done something naughty, in a good way. Validate me, Kell.

Kelly, pressed down on her overstuffed suitcase, tried zipping it closed, failed. She sighed, blew her bangs in frustration. "So, Mich, tell you a secret?"

Michelle stopped packing. "I'm listening."

"So a couple of summers back I kinda had a thing with...my uncle. I had taken a job in his real-estate office---he was doing a favor for my dad."

Michelle moved to sit on the couch, focusing. Kelly soon joined her, and shared her story of the summer, as little flirtations turned into bigger ones, and how soon enough he was taking her to properties he was working, fucking her on strangers' couches, on model-home king-size beds. "He was a total gentleman, and really really great in bed. I learned so much. I loved him teaching me. But I wanted a little bit of control too, to let him know when I was in the mood for that and when I wasn't. I liked sex, but I didn't want it, like every single day. And I was worried people would notice. So we came up with a system. He gave me this necklace with a heart on it. The kind every girl ever has. He told me that if I wore the necklace, he'd know that he could take me out somewhere to help with 'staging' or whatever."

"So you were on your knees giving him blowjobs, but you were kind of steering him."

"Exactly. It was super-exciting for a while. It wasn't a relationship, but it felt really mature."

"So do you still see him?"

"He moved. I didn't get the whole story, but I think his wife found out he was fucking around---I'm sure I wasn't the only woman he was with. He'd sent me texts and stuff, but I didn't want that kind of thing. I told him, 'If I see you in the same room, and I want you, I'll wear the necklace and you'll know.' He was cool with that."

"And the sex?" Michelle asked. "It was good, you said?"

"Oh, Mich," she laughed. "If you're not careful you really are going to fuck your daddy."

**

To see how it would feel, Michelle gave her dad the tightest hug she could when she met him at baggage claim. Bouncing in her tennies, the tight shorts she wore earlier in the week, a tank top only slightly less clingy than her Buck Yeah! top. Feeling comfortable in his familiarity, his reliability---pressing against him gave her the warm feeling of home and was also a bit of a turn-on. And a turn-on for him, she secretly hoped. A way of making him feel physically grateful for her. To make him care for her, she needed to signal that she was open to it.

And like she felt with so many men, there was a hint of a hardon pressing against her pelvis. She loved it; she couldn't help but love it. She could feel herself melting as he slid his hands to her hips and kissed her warm forehead. "Welcome back, beautiful. That was quite a how-do-you-do."

"Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

They caught up on the drive home---her classes, his work. Almost unthinkingly, Michelle pressed against her seat belt, letting her tits stand out. She couldn't tell if her dad noticed, but she enjoyed being in a teasing mood all the same.

"You never replied to my text, dad. After I got home from that party."

"Well, it seemed like you had a good time."

"A little bit of trouble, like you said."

Eric could sense the flirtatiousness in her voice. He recalled Helena licking his cock, cooing, Do you like this, daddy? He decided to play along. It wasn't like he was going to fuck his daughter, and he could be a grown-up about this.

"Just a little? Judging from the picture, maybe it was more than a little."

"Well, if you want to know the truth, I went to a room with a boy. We didn't have sex, but I did...take care of him."

Eric made a jerking-off motion and gave her a questioning look.

Michelle shook her head, mimicked a blowjob, pressing her cheek in and out with her tongue.

Eric laughed at her daughter's brazenness. "But the important thing, sweetheart, is: Did he take care of you?"

She sighed. "That was kind of a problem. I wished he did. Like, I wish he knew how." She sighed. "I don't think I should be getting with guys my age."

"Want to meet some guys from my firm? I know plenty of divorced 60-year-old men."

"Ugh, it's not that, dad. I mean it. Be serious. Just, somebody who's nice but who knows how to be a guy. I'm tired of doing all the work about what a guy should do."

Eric thought. "Well, tell you what. Once you get settled in, maybe you can meet my new lady friend and we can talk about it. I suspect she'll have better advice than I do about what you need in a boyfriend."

Michelle perked up in her seat, tits jiggling. "Oh, there's a lady friend?"

"It's new...pretty new anyway. I'll tell you all about her over dinner. One thing at a time. Let's get home." He rubbed her thigh, and she put her hand on his, keeping it there. She smiled at him as he drove.

Eric made a simple pasta dinner but served wine for both of them---something he hadn't done before with Michelle, but she was grown up now, and things were feeling a little more grown up between the two. Michelle had changed into a pair of loose sweatpants and a tight spaghetti-strap tank top. The thick straps of her bra were exposed, black with white polka dots. Halfway through the bottle he began talking about Helena, meeting her online, not sure if she was exactly a girlfriend, but open minded and fun-loving.

"Open-minded how?" Michelle asked, and drained her glass of pinot noir. Do it, dad, she thought. Just answer. Don't disappoint me.

He gazed at her firmly, as if testing her, then decided she'd passed the test. "We have a list of things we'd like to do, things we haven't done before. A bucket list. But it's pretty much all sex stuff."

"Like what?" she asked.

"That," he said, playfully pointing at her across the table, "is private. Would you share that kind of list with me?"

She poured more wine into her glass. "It's a mile long," she said. "It's everything." Whether because of the wine or her frustration, she suddenly felt tearful.

"Oh, sweetheart," Eric said, and took her hand across the table. It felt soft and warm in his, charged with something. "You'll get there." He stood up and moved behind her as she sat, resting his hands on her shoulders, lightly caressing them. "I'm glad you're sharing this with me." He had nothing else to say but loved the warmth of her body. Looking down, he could see the depth of her cleavage, the fullness of her breasts. She sighed softly.

A moment later, Michelle got up and began to clear her plate, but Eric told her he'd take care of the dishes. "Go to bed, sweetheart. You had a long week and a plane flight and a lot on your mind."

She looked up at him, doe-eyed, and gave him another tight hug. They gazed at each other for a long moment, and then Michelle moved forward and kissed her father. Not long, and not deep, but intimate and familiar. She let her pillowy lips linger on his long enough for it to be different, memorable.

Eric reddened. "And what was that for, Mich?"

"A nice kiss from somebody I love," Michelle said. "It's on my bucket list."

**

Michelle couldn't sleep. Her old bed was stiffer than what she had become accustomed to; her room felt smaller than she remembered it, more childlike, alien. She thought about the times she was scared as a child and would sneak into her parents' bed for comfort. She didn't need that now, but maybe a glass of water would do.

Her parents'---now just her father's---bedroom was off the hallway toward the stairs down to the kitchen. She padded slowly and softly down the hall, wearing the strappy tank top she had on earlier and a pair of purple boy-short panties that happened to match. Eric's door was ajar. She peeked, and she saw her father jacking off.

Michelle had limited experience with cocks, but by any standard her father was hung. His hand clutched only half his cock when he held it, and she was mesmerized with how he played with himself---now stroking, now gently caressing the head with a few fingers, now clutching himself tightly, now cupping and caressing his balls. Taking care of a man, she noticed, meant doing a lot of different things. She imagined what it would be like to put her lips in all those places, what it might feel like and what might finally make her father shudder and cum. What it might feel like if she was asked to do it. Her nipples tightened and she could feel herself get wet.

I want, she thought to herself, afraid to give that verb an object, though it was so obvious it hardly needed thinking. She ran her hand over her panties as if to confirm what she already knew, that she was turned on, but she was shocked---she'd soaked her panties.

Her father looked closed, and she tried to send mental signals to her father, encouraging him to orgasm, to shoot that load of cum, even more cum than that dumb boy in the frat. I know you can do it, daddy, cum for me daddy.

She almost had to stop herself from squealing when he finally did, a thick load that messily spattered his chest. What fun! How good of him to do that! How lucky and amazing to see it! And what a shame she couldn't be there for it, right there, though she was so close. Her hips were practically vibrating with excitement, yet she was also paralyzed, unsure of what to do with her body. Eventually, having spent himself, Eric went through the boring motions of mopping up his sticky load with a wad of tissue. That moment of normalcy broke the spell, and Michelle returned to her bed, forgetting all about the water. Back in bed, she played with her pussy, fingering herself deeply, clutching her tits and pulling on her nipples, desperate to scream with pleasure, wishing her father could watch her as she had watched him. But she was, for this night, a good girl.

**

"You must be the girl genius! Look at you!"

A weekend's worth of pestering on Michelle's part had paid off: Eric set up a lunch with Helena near his office and invited Michelle along. Helena was dressed for a workout---yoga shorts, tank top, and crosstrainers. She was so fit and well put together that Michelle felt a little frumpy in her sundress, like her hips and tits were flabby, not sexy. But this woman her dad's age had brightened so much at seeing her that she immediately felt comfortable with her and gave her a hug. Eric gave Helena a quick but intimate kiss and they went to their seats.

"Genius? Is that what my dad has been telling you?"

"Well, you're in a good college, pulling good grades, smart with biology and coding, right?"

"Careful, Mich," her father said. "I think Helena is recruiting you."

"For what?"

"That pretty lady sitting next to you made her fortune launching one of the first online houseware retailers. Helena's Handbasket."

Michelle turned to look at her father's girlfriend again, impressed, looking at her as if she wore her accomplishments on her body, as if it were a pair of earrings she could borrow. She noticed how Helena carried herself---confident, straight-backed, athletic.

"I got bought out years ago by one of those big online companies, but I still have a seat on the board and some clout in how things are done there. Seriously, if you're looking for summer work, I can get you connected with our office."

"That'd be great, thanks," she said. "Let me think about it." Michelle still wasn't sure what her relationship with her father was, and didn't want to seem too needy.

Eric laughed. "She's a very careful woman."

"Every smart woman is," Helena countered.

A waitress came to take their orders. Michelle opted for a half-sandwich with a salad. Michelle's firm, curvy body had still made her feel self-conscious.

"And for the lady?"

"She'll have the linguine with cream sauce," Eric said. "Cheeseburger for me, medium rare."

Michelle was puzzled---why was this successful, self-possessed woman letting her father order for her, as if she were a child? She couldn't stop thinking about it all through lunch.

When they were done, standing in front of the restaurant---Helena paid---Eric said he needed to get back to work. "Are you off to your second workout of the day?" he asked. In a half-aside, he told Michelle, "Selling your business for a mint gives you a lot of free time."

Helena slapped his arm playfully. "You don't seem to mind the workouts, mister. I was thinking I'd take your gorgeous daughter out shopping, if that'd be OK with the both of you."

"Sounds lovely," Eric said. "I'm off." He pulled Helena close to him, kissed her deeply, one hand resting practically over her ass. He kissed Michelle too, more chastely, but she felt the afterglow of his more erotic, intimate kiss in it.

"What are we shopping for?" Michelle asked.

"It's a bit of a surprise," Helena said, and guided her to her car.

As soon as they started driving, Michelle blurted it out. "Can I ask you about something?"

"Anything, hon."

"So, you let my dad order for you at the restaurant."

"I did. Do you think I shouldn't have trusted him? He raised a daughter to adulthood, I suspect he's reliable," she laughed.

"No, it's not that. It's just---a guy ordering for a grown woman. It feels kinda...fifties? I mean, if a guy did that for me, I'd be annoyed."

"Maybe you don't know 'a guy' well enough," she said, cheerfully. "Look, quick lecture. I don't need a man to do things for me. I hope that's clear. But I like a man who knows me, who cares about me, who gives me attention, and who's moved to take care of me. Not to pay my mortgage. But to make me feel cared for, and to make me not have to do all the work. A lot of young women see that and might think I'm oppressed or something, and then they turn around and go online and order from these online companies that send these prepackaged meals to them. A week's worth of lunches and dinners. Who runs those companies, Michelle? Not women, believe me. And then they talk about how empowered they are, what go-getters they are. So, I think I'll let a good man like your father order me linguine every once in a while."

Michelle was struck silent by Helena's speech. Her ferocity her admire her all the more. "OK, lecture over," Helena said. "Here we are."

She pulled her SUV into a bland strip mall. At the far end of it was a shop with blackout windows and no signage except white script on the door: Girls at Our Best--Appointment Only.

Helena pressed the buzzer and soon the door opened. A young woman in cat's-eye glasses and a pink streak in her short blonde hair. "Hey, Helena, come in! You brought a friend!"

"Just looking to update a few things, Candy," Helena said, familiarly. Candy looked at Michelle, seemed amused by her confusion.

"Enjoy," Candy said.

The two women walked through a black curtain and into the store, which brimmed with sex toys and paraphernalia. Vibrators, dildos, nipple clamps, masks. Books: Fisting for Beginners, The Ethical Slut, A Woman's Guide to Pleasing a Man. DVDs, some educational, some straight-up porn. Paddles, switches, restraints.

"I assume you have a vibrator, Michelle?" Helena asked.

"I do---a bullet," she replied. "Helena, why did you bring me here?"

"I should have said something on the way, but maybe sometimes it's good just to dive in. So, your father told me a little bit about how you're feeling frustrated with guys, and believe me, I get it. And a bunch of sex toys aren't going fix it. But I don't want you to make the mistake I did and go years into your adulthood, and a marriage, denying what your own body is telling you because you feel it's inappropriate or something. The world is wide open, Michelle, especially for a girl like you. Everything in this store"---she waved a hand around like a hostess---"is appropriate."

Michelle looked.

"So....what catches your eye?"

Michelle looked at the paddles hanging on the wall, large and small. She picked out a middle sized one, rubberized, firm but with a little give, and ran her hand over it. She thought about what it might have been like if Gus knew how to use something like this with her, if he'd thought to spank her before offering her his cock, instead of her fumbling for it. If her father....

"Do you want it?"

"There's nobody to use it on me."