Perchance To Dream Pt 01

Edited and Inspired by Mel (melanieatplay)

*****

Today was shaping up to be like most any other Thursday; pretty boring. My daughter Alice turned 21 today and, despite promising me that she and I would go get her first legal cocktail together, she was going out after work with her new friends from the law firm where she just started interning a month ago.

Since it was about 4:30 in the afternoon, I figured my wife Suzie had cracked open that new box of chardonnay by now. Yeah, I know. Wine in a box. At least it's cheap that way, like a volume discount. And the way she drinks it, that's a good thing. I didn't want to go home and hear her bitch and moan about the good old days and how our baby girl is all grown up and whatever else pops into her little head.

Without going into the 30 years of history that the wife and I have together, let's just say that the romance is gone. And the fun is gone. And the sex is gone. So what's left? Just the 'going through the motions' part? That seems to be enough for her, but it isn't for me. I've already consulted a lawyer to get the ball rolling. I don't have that many good years left! 52 is the new 40, or at least that's what I tell myself. I look pretty good, people think I'm my early forties. Still, have my hair, and it isn't gray. Didn't get fat like most everyone else, either. My wife may have dried up after menopause, but my dick is still active. Well, mostly, anyway! I've got the blue pill when necessary.

So I called Suzie and said I had to work late. And I did work late. That wasn't a euphemism for sneaking around with another lady. I just wanted to work until about 8:00 p.m. or so. Suzie usually had half a box of wine by then and would be passed out in the bed.

Got home and ate the stew that she left me in the fridge, and thought, 'What the hell. I'll try some of that box wine.' I promptly ran to the sink to spit it out. God, is it just me or is it really vinegar? How can she drink this stuff? I went and got myself a bottle of Justin from my wine chiller, which I keep set at 58 degrees for the reds. It's a little cooler than maybe it should be, but that's how I like it. I checked the box wine again, I know it was a new one, and it felt half empty. That's maybe 2 liters gone! Almost three bottles. Christ.

I went upstairs and sure enough, the TV was on and Suzie was zonked out. I covered her up and went into our master bathroom suite to take a shower and perform my man-maintenance. Trimmed up the nose hairs, ear hairs, eyebrows, and the dick area. Why would someone who hasn't slept with his wife in over a year care about his genital hair? Because I was going to see Jaylene tomorrow, she's my masseuse. Well, she started off as my masseuse, giving me what's known as "sensual massages". But after a couple of those, we progressed to full sex! $220 an hour for a blowjob, titty fuck, and to cum inside her. She says she doesn't do this with any of her other customers. I pretend to believe her.

Checked my email, checked my "other" email to see if any sexy ladies had written me from a couple of the porn story sites (they hadn't) and finally shut down at about ten and drifted off to sleep.

= = =

I dreamed that I was in a Hollywood movie and that I was the star of the movie. This really blew my mind! And just when it was getting interesting, this mysterious movie lady grabbed and pulled my arm and told me to wake up. She seemed pretty anxious about it.

I did wake up, and a lady was pulling on my arm, telling me to "Wake up, Mr. Jansen. Wake up!" In those first fuzzy seconds of awareness, I couldn't wrap my mind around what was happening. Some chick I didn't know was in my bedroom. Finally awake, I began thinking of how I was going to push her back and get my shotgun from under the bed and get some answers.

Fortunately for her, she quickly said, "Your daughter needs help!"

I jumped up out of bed, knocking over the glass of water on my nightstand. Shit!

"What's happening! Is she hurt? Where is she!" I couldn't talk fast enough, or get answers fast enough.

"No," answered this chick. "She's not hurt. She's just drunk downstairs in the Uber."

Oh, okay. I calmed down a little and turned on the lamp by my bedside. I realized that I was just in my boxers and nothing else. I pushed past this mystery girl and grabbed a T-shirt from my drawer. I also began to notice that this girl/chick/woman was hot. And I mean smokin' hot. She's the kind of girl that not only turns heads when she walks into a room, she gets the blood flowing to the nether regions. Immediately.

Oh yeah, And she seemed drunk, too. Her business attire of medium length dark skirt, white blouse, and dark blazer were all somewhat askew; blouse partially unbuttoned and untucked here and there, skirt seemed torn, and her blonde hair was a bit messy.

I glanced at my darling wife, still asleep. She could sleep through a 9.0 earthquake at this point, I think.

"Take me to her," I ordered this chick. She giggled and grabbed my hand and led me downstairs.

"Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Melanie! Melanie Johnnsson. And you need a hundred dollars for the (hic) ...puke."

Her "esses" slurred a bit. Then I recognized the name.

"From the firm? 'Iron Balls' Johnson?"

She giggled again.

"The one and (hic)... Only!"

Fuck, she had a pretty smile.

I've heard my daughter tell tales of this one, and none of them were good. She was the ball-buster of the office. Great lawyer, apparently, but very tough on the interns. But never mind about that. I grabbed my wallet from the kitchen and we went outside.

My daughter was sprawled out in the backseat of this Prius. The Uber driver stood there with his arms crossed, he looked pissed.

"I need a hundred bucks to clean up this puke! And I want cash!"

I flung my wallet to the lovely-but-drunken Ms Johnson and said: "Pay the man."

The car reeked. I don't need to describe it, it was awful. Most of it was on the floor of the car, but some was on my Alice. I tugged and pulled and finally got her in a position where I could pick her up. Alice is a little bitty thing, just five foot three and about a buck-ten or so. But still, that's dead weight that's just flopping all over the place.

I headed towards the front door, but it was shut! And Melanie was still talking to the driver!

"Hey! Lawyer chick! Quit deposing the witness and get over here!"

Alice stirred from all my yelling.

"Is that you, Daddy?" She said this in such a sweet little sing-song drunk voice. Poor little thing.

"Stand still, Daddy."

We weren't moving at all, I was still waiting for Melanie to get her drunk ass over here.

"Daddy?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"Yes, little punkins?"

"I need to, I have to... " and she paused for a few seconds.

Then in her sweet little sing-song voice again, said, "Uh-oh!"

It would've been cute if my left arm that was supporting her thighs didn't suddenly feel wet and warm. Thanks, honey. Seemed like she hadn't peed in about a week.

Melanie sauntered over and finally opened the door, but I waited until Alice's tank ran dry. Then I carried her to the laundry room.

"Melanie, help me... no, you hold her... oh shit, let me hold her... no that won't work..."

We struggled with balancing Alice on the washing machine and getting her skirt and blouse off. I couldn't help but notice a couple things. One, my daughter had some very racy and skimpy underwear on and I'm NOT supposed to notice that, but I couldn't help it. And the second thing was that Melanie had very lovely breasts that kept banging into me as we fiddled with the soiled clothes. Little Mr. Jansen noticed those things also, much to my dismay.

I picked up Alice again. I had to get her to bed, but not with her smelling like this, and there were some pieces in her hair, too. She needed a shower. As I began thinking about the logistics of that maneuver, Melanie doffed her blazer and started unbuttoning the last few buttons of her blouse.

"Uh... what are you doing, counselor?"

She smiled at me as she pulled her blouse back and off her shoulders and arms. She stood for a moment in her black bra and skirt.

Good fucking God! What a nice rack! A full C, or probably a D. My wife is like an A Minus so I'm not good at judging bra sizes. Let's just say D, for argument's sake.

"I've got barf on me, too!" And she removed her skirt. Which revealed a black G-string. And it was a tiny G-string. I saw absolutely no hint of any Iron Balls. What a body!

I stood there holding my daughter in my arms, transfixed by this Melanie person. I think my brain ceased functioning for a full ten seconds. Hands on her hips, she tilted her head to one side so her gorgeous blonde hair fell farther down one breast than the other, which was good because then I could at least stare fully at the one unobstructed magnificent breast.

"Hey!" Melanie snapped me out of my trance. "What's next? A shower? I'll grab her purse."

"Um, yeah," I said as I headed for the stairs. "Can you help me with that?"

Melanie nodded and giggled.

I got to the upstairs bathroom but, no good. It's just a shower bath, and I thought that I couldn't just lay her in there. That would be nasty. Plus I wasn't sure I could get her up out of there.

I looked at Melanie and told her to shush, to which she giggled in response, and we headed towards my master bedroom.

Suzie hadn't moved a muscle, thank goodness. Although she would have been a big help right now, she also would have been yelling and crying, and nobody needed that. Fortunately, the bathroom suite had a door on it. I whispered to Melanie to close it, which she did. But only after some over-done drunken tip-toeing. Then she burst into laughter. I shook my head.

"Come on! Get the water going!"

Our shower has a large sprinkler-type head that pours straight down from overhead. It puts out a lot of water. It's on a swing-arm so you can push it over to the corner if you don't want it right over the middle. Additionally, we had one of those hand-held pulsating massage shower heads on a silver flexible hose. Melanie went to the shower and bent over the knobs.

As she faced away from me, I saw her black G-string disappear in the cleft between her butt cheeks. And those cheeks were perfect. No marks, no pimples, just impossibly smooth, tanned skin. She must sunbathe in the nude. And in the place where of a tramp stamp normally goes, she had... hands praying? What does that mean? And she had some Chinese or Japanese characters tattooed above the hands. I thought she looked incredible. My dick thought so, too. Despite my aching back from carting around my catatonic daughter, my cock decided to make an appearance.

Melanie stepped back and seemed to be very pleased with herself for being such a good helper. I told her to push the overhead shower out of the way so I wouldn't get sopping wet, which she did.

Then, Melanie decided that she didn't need her under things anymore. She hooked her thumbs under the G-string and pulled it down past her feet, stepping out daintily. She stood back up and tossed her blonde hair back overhead. I don't know if the carpet matched the drapes; there was no carpet. Completely bare. And possibly aroused, her lips seemed a bit swollen. I thought about kissing those lips...

She giggled some more as she undid her bra and let it drop to the floor. Breathtaking, and definitely 'D'; I've seen enough porn to be sure. Speaking of porn, sometimes you see a gal with large breasts and tiny nipples, or small breasts and weird nipples. None of that was happening here. Melanie's full breasts sloped down to luscious globes, capped by perfect nipples. No tan lines marred her perfect sun-kissed skin. Her pink areolas were a good three inches across, and her hard nipples protruded proudly from the center. I felt completely out of my element here, staring at the most gorgeous person I've ever seen in my life. Melanie chuckled at me, and lasciviously nibbled her own finger. Her glorious, pendulous breasts shook and trembled.

I stood there holding my daughter, dumbfounded, just staring at Melanie for the second time in less than five minutes. My cock had worked its way out of the slit in my boxers and stabbed Alice in the kidney. That shouldn't happen.

Fatigue set in, I had to set my daughter down. I brushed past Melanie and carefully set her down on the built-in seat in the corner of the shower enclosure. As the hot water sprinkled on me a little bit and part of Alice, her limp body started to slide, the only way I could hold her up was to push against her chest, which I did. I had to. It wasn't my fault.

I tried not to think about where my hand was. I really, really tried. I called for Melanie to come and help me. And she didn't help at all.

What she did, though, was kneel kind of behind and beside me. That way she could lean her exquisite breasts against my back and side. Like I said, not helping.

Melanie then slipped past me and reached for Alice's tiny underpants and started tugging them off.

"Wait!" I cried out. "What are you doing?"

"Silly! She can't sleep in these wet things!"

Right. Of course she can't. What was I thinking? I'll tell you what I was thinking. No! I won't tell you that. This was my daughter. This was not a sexual situation. She was sick and needed my help. I can't betray her! What kind of a sick fuck am I?

I lowered my head down so I wouldn't see anything, but still had my hands on her chest to maintain her upright position. I helped Melanie shift Alice's weight so we could remove her panties.

"The bra, too, Daddy-oh!" Melanie seemed awfully cheerful about this whole situation. "And uh, nice hard-on you got there! Is that for her or me?"

I just shook my head, I didn't have a free hand yet to try and put my cock back inside my boxers. I let Alice tip forward a bit so Melanie could unhook the back of Alice's bra. Fuck.

"Okay," I said to Melanie. "You take it from here. I'm going to go get you guys some dry clothes."

Melanie propped up Alice as I let go and quickly turned my head to get out of there.

Except.

Except there was a fleeting glimpse. A flash. Just a moment, really. But I'm sure I saw this lovely, pink, gumdrop-shaped nipple. Just out of the corner of my eye. This nipple was at the tip of Alice's delicate but delicious-looking breast.

Goddamnit

.

I moved the shower head over them so they both got sprayed as Melanie rubbed and scrubbed Alice, then I stepped back into my bedroom and shut the bathroom door. I was fairly wet by now, too, but forgot a towel. Fuck it, I thought, and I tucked my rager back in my boxers. I went to Alice's messy room and found two pairs of sweat shorts and a couple of T-shirts.

As I walked back into my room, I checked that Suzie was asleep. Dead to the world, just like her daughter.

Suddenly, a loud booming, crashing sound rang out from the bathroom. The kind of sound one makes when they fall in the tub. What the fuck happened?

I ran into the bathroom to see that Melanie had slipped back off her feet and had fallen back onto her butt. However, she took Alice with her, as now my daughter lay face down on Melanie's chest.

"Goddammit is she alright? Are you alright?"

Melanie nodded and laughed. I told her to hush up, to which she quieted for a moment and tried to look scared, but then she only laughed more. Damn drunks! My house is full of drunken women!

I turned off the water but got soaked in doing so. They must have gotten most of the gunk off by now.

"Hey look!" Melanie touted. "She's almost sucking my tit! You want my tit, sweetheart?"

Melanie grabbed her left boob and placed it on my daughter's face, rubbing her glorious, rigid nipple over Alice's lips.

"Knock it off!" I harsh-whispered to Melanie. She laughed, of course.

I grabbed a towel and laid it over my daughter's back. I glared at Melanie as I tried to pat my daughter's back down. Melanie tried to be quiet, but she could only hold still for a few moments before bursting out in giggles again.

My thinking at this point was that I needed to get Alice up and sit her down in Suzie's makeup chair at the bathroom vanity counter. Then we can blow-dry her hair and get her to bed and this horrible, awful, yet cock-hardening experience can be over with.

As the poor Hebrew slaves must have said to the Egyptian pyramid designers, "Easier said than done."

I couldn't figure out how to get Alice up. I couldn't really roll her over and pick her up like normal because, well, that would just break all of the rules to hold my naked daughter in my arms. I couldn't pick her up by her stomach because that would induce more puking.

Oh well, there's nothing for it

. I forced my hands under her so they were at her chest. Her... soft chest... Fuck! Anyway, I lifted her somewhat upright, then slid one arm under her bum and hoisted her up. Yes, her naked bum.

I staggered over to the chair and sat her in it. I looked pleadingly over at Melanie who seemed to grasp the situation. She rose up fully and walked over to me. As a reminder, she is completely naked and wet at this point. I could see that she didn't have a single hair anywhere on her body except her head. She grabbed some towels off the rack and started rubbing myself and Alice down.

At this point, I could only hold up Alice by kneeling behind the chair she sat in and supporting her with my right arm and hand across her chest. Her head lolled forward too much, so I used my left hand to try and hold it more upright. My right hand, or more specifically, my right pinky finger, seemed to be dangerously close to Alice's nipple.

Now, if there was a video replay, the referees might argue that my pinky finger seemed to move slightly in a back and forth rhythmic fashion, which would cause severe stimulation to that poor nipple. I would argue that if there was any movement of said pinky, that it was involuntary movement caused by Melanie drying us off with towels. I would argue that all fucking day. And if that nipple hardened, I mean 'when' that nipple hardened, I would also argue that I felt only the normal fatherly concern for my daughter Alice and that I didn't feel that nipple harden under my finger. I would also argue that my once-again full hard-on was the result of seeing Melanie only, not Alice.

Speaking of Alice, she happened to stir right at that moment and lifted her head up a bit.

"Daddy?" she asked in that little sweet drunken voice. "Whass happening? I can't move very well."

"We're going to dry your hair and put you to bed."

"Daddy? Are you holding my boobs?" Terrific, I'm so busted now.

"Yes honey, so you won't fall over."

"Iss okay Daddy, feels kinda nice."

I felt her head bob forward again as she slipped back into her stupor. Good, I thought. She won't remember any of this.

By now Melanie had gotten out the blow dryer and began drying Alice's hair. For some reason, Melanie seemed to think she didn't need to put on any clothes yet. And as she and I moved around to try and get all of Alice's hair dry, she seemed to be bumping into me and leaning against me a lot. At one point she leaned hard against my shoulder to bend over Alice's hair.

There's no other way to say this. Her pussy ground into my shoulder and her boobs dragged on the top of my head. She stayed that way for longer than I thought necessary. My fully hard cock, of course, had already noticed that we were fondling Alice. Fondling? No! Accidentally touching! It was just incidental contact! 'He' also noticed Melanie's boobs and pussy touching us. I didn't think my cock would go back down for a week.

Melanie turned the hair dryer onto my hair and slowly ran her fingers through it.

Sensually. She sensually ran her fingers through my hair and massaged my scalp, as the warm air flowed over my head. Goddammit Melanie, I'm supposed to be mad at you for letting my daughter get so stupid-drunk in public. But the anger lessened.