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“Come on, are you going to cum?”
Jesus christ. I had just spent thirty minutes licking my wife Beth, and she’s giving me hell when it hasn’t even been ten minutes of us having sex? Shit, if she maybe would turn over and let me have some bunny time, I’d be a little quicker.
“Yea…I’m getting there.”
After 20 years of marriage, the same pattern continues. I get bossed around, told harder, higher, stop, spending whatever time is needed to give you a great oral orgasm. Because Beth doesn’t want me masturbating her, and she can’t cum during sex. No big deal. I love it. Well, I figured I better say something to keep her quiet.
“Oh…it feels good.”
My turn comes, and it is sex on her back with a timer. Lord help me if I ask Beth to turn over. I’d get ten tons of grief, telling me how degrading it is to women. It can’t be any less degrading than a man lying between your legs and licking your vagina like a popsicle. I kept up my talk, trying to distract her.
“Oh, you are so sexy…”
Oh, do I dare? I run my hands along the back of her thighs. Just thinking about it makes me throb in her wet, loose vagina. The vagina that was never the same after giving birth. One out of every ten times it is tolerated. If that.
Fuck, why not? We are on vacation. Just maybe. I slide my fingers a little closer, holding her bottom open. Beth’s eyes are closed, head turned, showing no indication of concern. Her womanly tits are hanging to the side of her chest, never having fully recovered from nursing years ago. I do love how her areolas did double in size,though.
I can feel the prickly hairs that surround it. Still not a word from her. Slowly. Gently. If she just let me, then my orgasm would be hard and immediate. I lift my finger. I press. I found her poop hole. Oh christ, her body jerked away. It was a bad move.
“What the fuck! Don’t touch me there! How many times do I have to tell you it doesn’t make me feel comfortable. Play with your own asshole! Leave mine alone! God you are so fucking selfish!”
Beth was practically screaming at me as she rolled over on her side, whipping my penis out of her vagina. Fuck, it was just as well. It is so hard to cum inside of her these days, loose and unresponsive. Unimaginative. Uninterested. Her voice was no longer yelling, but the anger and tone was perfectly audible.
“You just jerk off thinking of some other girls poop hole.”
With that, Beth snuggled up to her pillow and left me on my back, naked and erect. Fuck her. She came, I will too. I got up, went to the bathroom, and grabbed her face cream. It was the softest lotion we had. I quietly got back into bed, lubed up, and made myself cum in about three minutes.
As my body jerked, releasing myself onto my stomach, I moaned loud. Beth sensed that I was done, perhaps surprised at my speed. Maybe if she put forth the effort, I’d be equally as quick with her. She let out one final directive.
“I don’t want to find a wet spot on my side.”
I reached to the side of the bed and picked up her panties that I removed earlier Giving them a brief sniff, I wiped myself clean. One way or another, I was going to cum on her.
I woke up the next morning to Beth knocking on the adjoining door to our hotel room. Our daughter Sarah was tagging along, joining Beth and I in Florida for a late Winter vacation. Beth was a speech pathologist and had a conference in Sarasota. Only because it was Florida did Sarah agree to go. Or maybe is was because she got to skip school. And, with Sarah going, we decided we could make it a fun family trip.
“Sarah. Come on. Wake up! We are going to eat.”
Well, I guess we were going to eat. Beth, it seemed, decided she could not make it a fun family trip. It was Monday, the first day of her conference, and we had spent the last two arguing about sunscreen, beach time, bathing suits, when to get up, when to go to bed, all in front of our high school daughter. It was her senior year and I could tell she could not wait for college.
And who could blame her with a mom that hounded her day and night about grades, boys, curfews, rides, calling, texting, posts, and every other way a mom can keep tabs on a daughter. If Beth wasn’t careful, this would be one of the last family vacations. Sarah would be going to Northwestern and might never come back. I wish I was so lucky.
Sarah yelled from the other side of the door, clearly still in bed. Who could blame her. It was only 8:00am. Just because Beth had to get up, she expected everyone else to get up. That was life with her. I got the message and hopped into the shower, giving her a light kiss that was smoothly rebuffed. How were we going to last 5 more days in this hotel room?
I got out of the shower and walked into the room wearing a towel. Beth was getting herself ready, dressed perhaps a bit more like a hot secretary than a boring woman who works in the school district. She always had to be the best dressed, best looking woman in the room. I guess that was why I married her.
“Seriously? My face cream?”
Beth urla escort bayan had confiscated the bottle that I used last night. Part of me cared, part of me did not.
Beth cut me off.
With a final look in the mirror, Beth opened Sarah’s door, yelling.
“I’m getting a table. Meet me downstairs, 10 minutes, no later.”
With that, Beth grabbed her bag, adjusted her outfit, and walked out of the room.
Sarah’s room was dark. Her shades were still shut tight, and the only light was from the half open bathroom door. I could hear the shower running. My mind paused, wondering how my current, devious thought passed through the filter of acceptable thoughts. Usually, bad ideas were instantly identified and crushed. This idea lingered longer than it should.
“I wonder what she looks like naked…”
What was it, 5 years ago, when she was maybe 13 that I last saw her completely nude. Walking from the shower to her bedroom, mortified as she saw me standing in my bedroom looking for my wallet. She ran to her room, desperate to hide.
Since then, she was all towels. I must say, Sarah had no shyness about wearing them around the house, looking for fresh clothes in the basement, or lounging upstairs as she deliberated on what to wear. I was used to her wet hair, exposed legs, and seductive attire. But, the total package had been out of sight for some time.
Finding myself by her bathroom door was surprisingly erotic. I was aroused, about to spy on a woman, a young girl, naked and wet. She was my daughter, but my sexual fantasies had been fairly crushed during the last 20 years of marriage. Here was one thrown in my lap. I was going to act on it.
God, there she was, behind the clear glass, completely naked. I instinctively opened my towel and massaged my erection. Her breasts were young and large, exposed and unhindered by the confining clothes or bathing suits that her mother would allow.
Sarah had the breasts of a full grown woman on her 18 year old body. They were almost in the shape of a banana, swopping forward with a gradual curve. Her breasts were as wide as they were long, topped with a bulbous nipple that had it’s own well defined form. The bulk of a football. They were fantastic.
Her bottom was round and equally developed, a beautiful match for her chest. Similar to her mom, Sarah had dimples at the bottom of her back above a heart shaped butt, hips well defined and with a seductive curve. Her butt cheeks were firm and round, providing a well defined crease along her thighs, joining together along the center and hiding any treasures beneath.
Sarah turned to face me. Her deep blue eyes were open, staring into space. The face of a 14 year old, young and fresh. Lips that were full, skin that was blemish and wrinkle free, a soft pale white flesh, eyebrows that were dark and thin. Eyebrows that made it clear she had reached puberty even though the rest of her face said otherwise.
The sway of her breasts made it difficult to pull my eyes from them, watching the large areolas, almost being hypnotized by them. But the large, heavy bush that was just below Sarah’s flat, bleached white skin could not be resisted. It was the bush of innocence.
Her mom had not let her shave, and apparently, did not let her trim. Sarah stood proud with her large, heavy bush dripping with water. It was her first bush, the pubic hair that grew from the small sprouts of a tender girl and remained, unbothered, during her journey to womanhood.
Suddenly, the water stopped. My trance was broken. Sarah had stopped her shower and was leaning back, pushing the water out of her hair. I backed away quickly, moving to my room with a raging erection, and sat on the bed. My mind was a blank.
Sarah came walking by the door, in her towel, and saw me sitting. She gave me a friendly morning smile.
“Hi dad. I’ll be ready in just a sec.”
She grabbed her clothes, walked back to the bathroom, and left the door open. I could hear her rustling, wanted to go back and watch. To relieve my hardness. But, it was too risky. I found my own clothes, dressed, and waited. When she arrived a few minutes later, hair dry and beautiful, I had settled down. We walked out to find Beth.
Sitting at the table, I was having a hard time focussing. Sarah had on her usual T Shirt and Jeans outfit. I was amazed how small her chest looked, how well her bra seemed to conceal her swollen breasts. She and her mom spent the breakfast talking. More like Sarah listening, being told how long she could go to the beach, the sunscreen to use, the stay with dad lecture.
Sarah listened better than I could have. Maybe she just didn’t listen at all. However she did it, we made it through breakfast. Beth stood up, smiling, telling us she’d be back before dinner and would meet us in the rooms. With her coolness mostly gone, she bent down and gave me a loving kiss. I stared at her butt as she left, recognizing it from the smaller version that I just watched shower this morning.
“Dad, escort urla can we go to the beach now?”
I wasn’t completely out of it this morning.
“Didn’t mom say not until after lunch?”
Sarah rolled her eyes.
“I’m not going to tell. Are you? Come on, please?”
Sarah knew she didn’t have to ask or plead. It was our little game, figuring out ways to avoid the little rules that Beth put out – for both of us. We had an unwritten pact, passing smiles between us often when her mom wasn’t looking. Beth would hand out directions and Sarah and I would smile, deciding if we should or should not follow them.
“Alright, fine. Let’s just get our towels and suits, and then we can go.”
Sarah looked at me with a wondering look. I waited for the question that was coming.
“Dad, can I have $40? I want to buy a suit I saw in the shops.”
That was definitely mom territory. I was not a part of buying clothes for Sarah. But, her eyes forced the usual “yes” right out of me. I gave her the money, happy to generate the beaming smile that radiated from her face.
With a hug, she almost skipped away. Excited for the mom free day.
I slipped on my suit, grabbed a towel and did the same for Sarah. I figured I better grab her suit also in case she didn’t get the one she liked. It sure was a heavy one piece, thick, and did everything a mom would hope it would do. Hid her pubic area with an almost boy shorts type of bottom and crushed her breasts with a heavy foam padding behind the dark blue material. I picked up the beach bag that doubled as a cooler, still loaded with drinks and snacks, and left the room.
I found Sarah in the lobby without a bag. Apparently she had not found a suit, but I had to say, her chest seemed larger and free.
She gave me the “you idiot” look that teenagers come by naturally.
“Yeah, I got it. I just put it on already.”
Well, that was that. She was all set. We got into the convertible mustang that we rented and Sarah drove, despite not being on the agreement. Another secret between us, one her mother would certainly not approve of. Sarah sped through traffic, aggressive, blond hair whipping around her face.
It was off season, and a Monday, so the parking lot at the beach preserve was fairly empty. The sun was hot and bright, shining in the clear blue sky. We both strolled through the path in our flip flops, Sarah leading the way. There were a handful of people at the entrance, all well over 40, and it was not her type of crowd. Sarah turned and we started walking up the beach.
“I’ve got some sunscreen if you want it now.”
It was second nature for me to offer it, having been trained dutifully by her mom.
“No, I’m not going to use it today.”
Oh shit. One more secret. They were starting to pile up.
“Well, don’t burn. Mom will be pretty mad.”
It was my usual reminder.
“Well, mom sounded pretty mad last night…dad…”
She turned and smiled. My eyes bulged.
“What…when was she mad…”
Sarah raised her eyebrows, smiling, knowing that I was trying to pretend nothing happened.
“I think it was when you tried to…
Fuck. She had heard everything!
“OK! OK! Forget I asked!”
Sarah was laughing to herself, almost happy that someone other than herself was the source of mom’s anger. She was even a little sympathetic.
Well, if Sarah had caught me spying this morning, she might have thought otherwise.
“Hmph. If you only knew…”
Sarah clearly having fun toying with me.
“The door was locked, so I’m not sure, but it sounded like…”
Time for a new subject.
“Alright! I got it!”
Apparently Sarah was trying to do a little spying of her own last night. I’d have to make a mental note to not get adjoining rooms next time.
“Why did you guys lock the door…huh????”
I shook my head, smiling.
“Well, we didn’t want to get robbed…”
“Too bad I didn’t have the extra key to see why mom got mad…”
“Well, that probably would not have improved her mood…I’d advise against it…”
“I’ll be sneaky then…alright?”
I gave her my best annoyed smile, forcing myself to sound disapproving.
“Well, I don’t think so, honey…”
We had been bantering for about five minutes and it seemed we were a good distance from the elders. Sarah honed in on a spot just out of eyeshot, right after a slight curve in the beach where the sea oats separated to form a small inlet of sand. It was cozy, just what Sarah was hoping for. She marched up to it, put down her towel and looked around. Our privacy was confirmed.
“So…dad, remember, no telling mom about my new suit.”
She stood there, looking at me, waiting for final confirmation before revealing it. This was the second reminder. Apparently it was rated an obvious MSN – Mom Says No. One of many. I merely shrugged.
“Yea, alright. Got it.”
I urla escort was arranging my own towel, getting myself squared away with Sarah just to my right. I was now becoming curious, slightly aroused as she untucked her shirt, letting it hang over her waste. Kicking off her flip flops, Sarah gave me a wry smile as she unsnapped her pants. Sarah wriggled her bottom, squatting, pulling off her jeans. Her shirt still hid the bathing suit. The look on Sarah’s face was almost inviting me to watch.
“Alright, let’s see the suit.”
Sarah paused, like she was about to rip off a bandaid, holding onto the hem of her shirt. Closing her eyes, Sarah pulled up her shirt. She was ready to show off her new purchase. Well away from the critical eyes of mom.
Time seemed to stop as her arms dragged the shirt over her face. Two small, light blue triangles of fabric were swaying wildly on Sarah’s chest, large and swollen, not constrained or flatted by her usual heavy clothing. The banana shape was even more apparent out of the shower and in the warm heat, swelling to warmth around them. The bulge of her nipple stood proud against the fabric, faintly outlined.
Jesus, at least 90 percent of her breasts were exposed, pulled high as Sarah stretched her arms over her head. Small pieces of string held the slivers of fabric in place, wrapping under her arms only. There was no shoulder strap. The suit was definitely rated MSN. But, it was also rated DSY – Daddy Says Yes.
“What the hell, Sarah. Is that a swim suit, or fricking underwear?”
Sarah laughed, throwing aside her shirt. She was looking down at her bikini, admiring it, admiring herself, admiring her disregard to another mom rule. The wide triangular piece of fabric over her crotch was held in place by a similar small piece of string as her top. The entire material of the suit was less than one square foot. Hell, it was probably half of that. Sarah’s bush was bulging against the lower fabric. Screaming to get out. And, it looked like a few succeeded around the sides.
“Ha, funny dad. It’s a tanning suit, not really a swim suit.”
Sarah was not a tanner. Sure, she had a slight tan line from the suit she was wearing the last couple of days. But, that tan line was basically a strap line around her shoulder with a very high cleavage. And her legs had a slight tan hue to them also, ending well below the small strings on her waist. But, the rest of her body was a bright, pale white. Virginal snow.
“My god, Sarah, you can’t wear that here…You’ll give every guy down there a heart attack.”
Sarah looked around a saw nobody remotely close enough for her to care. And, when everyone seemed well over 40, none of them counted anyways. Sarah shrugged her shoulders. The small movement reverberated throughout her breasts. Fuck, even the breast meat below her nipples was on display, vibrating.
“Dad, nobody can even see us…”
Sarah turned around to look at her towel. Holy shit, her ass. Completely bare with the exception of a small T of string at the top that disappeared into the folds of her bottom. The bottom of her butt was completely exposed, revealing the well defined intersection of her ass and her thighs. The top of the suit, or rather, the string, traced along the upper curve of her ass. Dimples at the bottom of her back looked like small vaginas.
Sarah turned her head and looked over her shoulder. The bleach white appearance of her ass cheeks was shocking. Clearly, Sarah had never pulled down her panties anywhere other than in her room or on the toilet. Her heart shape bottom flexed slightly as we both looked at it.
“I know…it’s so white…”
She was completely unconcerned about my staring eyes. Sarah turned and sat down on her towel, laying back, letting her tits wobble to position. Letting me admire them in her new suit. Keeping her legs together, Sarah hid the inside of her thighs. But the damage was done. I sat down next to her, on my towel, desperate to hide my arousal.
“So, do you want the sun-screen…?”
Sarah found her pants, leaning away from me, looking almost naked. Back in position, she held a flat bottle of tanning oil. She must have slipped it into her pockets.
“Nope. I’ve got this.”
She sat up and started squirting herself with a fine mist of oil that smelled of coconut. Her shins, her thighs, her stomach, her chest, each arm, all receiving a healthy sheen. When her white skin was glistening, Sarah slowly began to rub the oil into her body. I sat and stared.
Her legs and hips were quick and simple, but when she got to her stomach, her fingers slowed and slipped deftly under her straps. I was given a brief glimpse of the top of her bush as she moved across her waist, spreading the tanning oil. Fingers pressed into her flat white stomach and moved slowly up to the bottom of her tits.
Sarah cupped the underside of her breasts, toying with the exposed flesh that was swelling beneath her nipples. She ran her fingers into the folds of her breasts, lifting each one gingerly, exposing the inner meat of her boobs. Sarah let her fingers slide effortlessly under the fabric, rubbing into her nipples, making sure her entire breast was being coated. She tilted her head, acknowledging my leering eyes with a dissatisfied grin. I spoke, nervously, trying to make light of my stares.
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