Short Story 03 Reunion And Consummation

Short Story -- III: Reunion & Consummation

As you probably guessed, it's now three weeks after I drove Terri and Gina back to college, and I'm driving up to the University for a long weekend -- maybe three nights -- with my daughter. And with Gina, of course!

I hoped.

And while I'm driving, I'm thinking. I'm really anxious to see Gina and Terri again, of course, and for Gina and me to spend as much quality "us time" together as we can. But I also find myself thinking about... about my "situation," I guess you could say.

In the span of a few days -- six, I think, though to be honest, I've lost track of time -- I went from being a dad and a widower who hadn't had any interest in women or a single sexual thought in over four years, to finding myself "involved" with a beautiful, intelligent woman who is, first, my daughter's age; second, my daughter's college roommate; and third, having a "body type" that many (most?) people would regard as being "abnormal," maybe even a disability or a defect.

And I've had to reconcile all these facts. And I realize -- I have zero problems with her... with Gina's "stature." Within a day of meeting her -- and certainly since we've begun sexually -- I don't even see... "it." Seriously. This is not some self-aggrandizing assertion of my enlightened moral sensibilities. After the first day around her, she became -- she

is

--

Gina

. And that's who I see, and that's what I see -- a person -- Gina.

But the physical thing is there -- and let's not pretend that it isn't. Gina's nifty little body works just fine for me! On the other hand, I'm not so naive as to believe that that's how the rest of the world sees her. I know now, for certain, that I will never be self-conscious about being with Gina, or what people will think of me (like that matters!). But I don't know if I can handle the impact that these insensitivities, or even downright cruelty, could have on Gina.

As usual, it was Terri who had to set me straight.

"Dad, it's not your responsibility to protect Gina. Gina and her family have lived with people like that all her life. There's not a thing you can do about those people, and only Gina can protect Gina. And trust me, Dad, she can. She's stronger than you can ever imagine."

My daughter was right -- again. Still, it surprises me how much I've become concerned about the happiness of someone I barely knew just a few days ago.

And if there are some people who can't handle that -- fuck 'em.

* * * * *

ALSO,

I need to apologize here. There's something else that happened over that spring break week that I neglected to tell you about. When I told you about how Gina and I got together, and about our first nights together when my daughter Terri invited her to stay with us over college spring break...

Well, I didn't quite tell you everything about our "getting to know each other" days -- and nights.

It was later in the week, one of the last days the girls were there with me, and Gina and I thought we might sneak in a little early morning delight. Gina was on top, riding what I thought was a splendid morning woody, when Terri burst into the room.

Of course, I was totally taken aback, by the surprise, and by Terri's flagrant lack of consideration. Or so I thought. Terri came over to where we were... were fucking and took Gina's shoulder and sort of guided-pulled her off me, saying "Hey -- I'm not gonna be the only person in this house who isn't getting fucked!" Then she glared at me. "What? You think I should stay all alone in my cubicle like some kind of nun while you two are fucking all over the house? C'mon, get off my dad and let me have a crack at that fine dick you've been raving about."

Fine dick? Raving about??

The thing is, the way Gina went along with Terri's orders, without even the slightest pretense of resistance, I'm pretty sure the two of them had this... this outrageous turn of events all planned out in advance.

And it

was -- is

-- outrageous. Let's face it -- we're talking

incest

here! But in light of how we -- all three of us -- got to this place, it's understandable, at least, sort of. My daughter basically pimped-out her college roommate to me -- and

me

to her college roommate. She has blithely wandered in and out of our room while Gina and I have been... making love. So perhaps it's not so surprising that things have gone in this direction, and that they got to this point.

And "this point" is my daughter, kneeling over me, straddling my groin, taking my cock, still hard from being inside Gina just a few moments ago, and putting it against the juicy opening of her pussy -- and sitting down on it, taking it three-quarters of the way inside her in a single lunge. I pushed up to meet her, and now I'm completely inside my daughter. Our pubes are mashed together and she is riding up and down on me.

My daughter is riding my cock. I love how that sounds. It is such a deliciously dirty expression. And as my cock slides in and out through the warm, slippery lining of her tight young cunt, I figure "What the hell. I didn't force her or trick her -- or even seduce her -- into this. And Terri's attitude suggests that this won't be the only time that this sort of "familiarity" is going to happen with the three of us.

And she

is

attractive --

very

attractive. And I

do

love my daughter...

And as I lay there on my back, looking up at my attractive -- my

hot

-- daughter, and her long blond hair, and with my hands grasping her breasts -- her

tits

-- and rolling the hard coral-colored nipples between my fingers, and her skewering her tight pussy on my stiff cock, I realized...

... for the first time in more than four years, I found myself horny.

Really

horny.

* * * * *

So, as usual, I first had to find a place to park, then buzz them from the lobby, then up to their room -- their 'suite.' Then the knock and the door opening and my daughter pasting herself all over me, genuinely happy that her old Dad was here.

God, I love my daughter!

Terri took my hand and dragged me in and kissed and hugged me again and told me that Gina was out running some last-minute errands and asked if I'd like something to drink. I went to the bathroom to freshen up from the drive, and by the time I came out Terri had two glasses of diet iced tea poured for us. We took our teas and sat in their little love-seat sized couch -- not very large, but big enough for two people to sit comfortably and watch TV or listen to music -- or talk.

My daughter told me about how her classes were going, and how the project she worked on over spring break got her an

A--

, "but it was still the highest grade in the class!" And the prank two girls played on another girl. And how another one of the girls in the dorm lost her mother to cancer last week.

"Dad, you know you're welcome to stay here with us in the suite, but I thought that maybe for this weekend you and Gina might want a little more space, so I made a reservation for you at the Concord Lake Inn."

When Terri told me this a bunch of thoughts came to my mind. First, of course, was that the Concord Lake Inn is a beautiful place, and there probably isn't a room in the place that's just "ordinary." Second, the thought -- a whole weekend with Gina, in our own place!

And third -- how wonderful my daughter is, wanting this weekend to be special for her dad and her best friend. I thanked Terri, for thinking of making the reservations for us -- and for caring so much about us, about Gina and me.

But Terri wasn't finished. After telling me about the reservation at the Inn, there was something else she was dying to tell me about.

"Y'know, Dad, Gina's a lot different since we got back from break -- and by that I mean 'since she spent a bunch of nights in bed with you.'" I was struck by my daughter's crude characterization of the time Gina and I spent together. But I was also amused. She went on.

"I mean, it's like she's giving off this vibe, like she's more confident or something. All I know is, ever since we got back from spring break, whenever we're out together, a lot more guys come up and talk to us, and I'm pretty sure a lot of 'em are actually hitting on us, on Gina and me." Then she added, with a smirk, "Nice goin', Dad."

I have to admit -- this was they very definition of ambivalence for me. I was happy -- and to be honest, kind of proud -- that being with me might have resulted in Gina gaining in confidence and self-assurance, to the point where others could see it in her.

On the other hand, other guys...

And that's when we heard the key in the door and the handle turn and Gina stumble her way in, her arms loaded with books and groceries, some mail in her hand...

... and saw me, and dropped everything on the floor and ran over to to me and threw her arms around me and hugged me harder than I would have believed possible. I took her in my arms and squeezed back, and she whispered frantically in my ear, "Oh, El, I was so afraid...!" and I felt her tears on my cheek.

And then I understood -- the unease that I'd been feeling all during the drive up here.

"I was afraid, too, Gina -- afraid it wouldn't feel... that we..."

"But we don't have to be afraid any more, do we, El?"

No, my darling Gina, we don't have to be afraid any more.

All the doubts, all the uncertainties -- gone in an instant. Gina put her legs on either side of mine and threw her arms around my head and pulled me to her and covered my face with kisses, and I tried my best to return them. At a break in Gina's affections I glanced over at my daughter, still sitting next to us, a smug shit-eating grin on her face, like

"Yeah. I knew it all along."

Gina finally let go, looked at me, a huge smile on her face, then leaned forward to give me three more kisses. "El, we're going to have so much fun this weekend...." But then she calmed herself and looked at me. "Seriously, it'll be so good just being together this weekend, it seems like it's been so long..."

Terri interrupted our touching reunion. "Isn't there something you need to tell Gina about...?"

I thought I understood what Terri was referring to. "Does Gina know... about... you know?"

I turned to Gina. "Gina, Terri thought that you and I might like a little more space this weekend, and you won't believe what she did. She made reservations for us at the Concord Lake Inn. For the entire weekend."

At first Gina sat there, like she didn't really grasp what I was saying. But then you could see the understanding come, and a huge smile appeared across her face and she leapt across the room and threw her arms around Terri, squealing and kissing her and squealing some more. I guess Gina liked the idea.

She suddenly stood up. "I gotta pack!"

Terri threw back, "Shouldn't take long -- I doubt you'll be needing a lot of clothes this weekend." Then she had another thought. "Take along something nice for dinner tomorrow."

While Gina was in her room packing, Terri pulled me aside and handed me a carefully folded brown paper shopping bag. "Here -- this is for Gina, but keep it a secret 'til you get checked-in and unpacked -- maybe tonight, OK?"

I nodded and just had time to stuff it under my arm before Gina came out of her room with her roll-aboard suitcase and a large vinyl tote bag. If she noticed my clumsy efforts to conceal the package, she didn't say anything.

We said goodbye, with Terri and Gina hugging each other again about a thousand times, so I just took Gina's carry-on and began walking toward where I'd parked the car. Gina caught up with me in a minute. I started the car and pulled out and we began driving the few miles to the Inn.

I was surprised -- we didn't talk much on the drive over. I guess we'd said all the important stuff back at the dorm. On the other hand, we touched each other all the way. And we smiled a lot.

When we pulled into the Inn's parking lot there was an open spot right across from the main entrance. We both grabbed our luggage and went in.

The name tag on the man at the front desk said that he was the "Front Desk Manager," about 40, neatly dressed, with a neat mustache and hair that was starting to get salt-and-pepper. In other words, exactly like you'd expect the front desk manger of an upscale hotel to look.

"Good afternoon -- welcome to the Concord Lake Inn. How may I help you?"

I gave him our name (that is, my name). He looked at Gina. But he didn't do it in an unkind way -- it was more like Gina's "unusual stature" caught his eye, but once he'd seen her, he gave her a big smile and welcomed "the lady" to the Concord Lake Inn. Gina apparently approved of his response and rewarded him with an absolutely radiant smile. The dear man actually blushed, and he seemed to fumble a bit with his computer keys.

He looked down at his terminal and punched a few more keys, then looked up -- at me, and especially at Gina -- and said, "Mr. Davidovich, it looks like it would be possible to move you to a Lakeview Terrace Suite -- is that something you and the lady would enjoy?" We allowed as that The Lady and I would find that very nice indeed and thanked him for the favor. That got him another smile from Gina, and I swear, he blushed again.

In fact, if the weekend went anything like I was thinking, we wouldn't be admiring the view of the lake that much.

On the other hand, if the weather stayed warm like It is, having our own private terrace might be very nice indeed...

We declined the offer of a bellhop and took our modest luggage up to our room. And, yes, as the kind desk manager said, it was a suite, and a generously-sized one at that, with a large bedroom, of course, and an even larger "living room," plus a modest kitchen with its own small eating area.

Oh, yeah. In the corner of the bedroom was a huge triangular Jacuzzi tub. Believe it or not, I've never had any experience with a whirlpool bath like this -- but I was willing to learn.

Once we were inside and closed the door and checked-out the suite, things got a little awkward. I think the matter was, we both wanted nothing more than to rip off our clothes and attack each other, but first we tried to act like civilized adults with some control over our needs and desires. But then we turned and looked at each other, and we began almost-tearing our clothes off as fast as we could, all the time never taking our eyes off one another.

Gina had trouble getting her top off -- it kept getting hung up on her gold link necklace and her ear studs, and by the time she got it over her head I already had my slacks off. I couldn't make myself wait any longer.

Fortunately, Gina didn't seem to want me to wait. I grabbed her under her arms and lifted her up 'til our faces were at the same level and we could mash our mouths together and kiss and lick and suck for all we were worth. Gina put both arms around my neck and hung onto me while we devoured each other. With Gina supporting her weight like this I was able to use one arm to slide her skirt up around waist. I was trying to pull the crotch of her panties aside, but my fingers were so anxious and Gina was squirming so much that I ended up ripping the panties. To hell with it -- I'd buy her a dozen pairs tomorrow -- heck, it might even be fun shopping for them!

I backed Gina up to the bedroom wall, enough to help support her weight, but also to steady her -- steady her enough that I could push my cock up against the slick opening of her pussy, then ease her body down 'til my cock was all the way inside her and I could fuck her standing up -- something that always looked terribly exciting to me but never had the opportunity -- before now -- before Gina.

Well, it's as exciting as you think it is! I fucked into her -- and that's the only way to describe it -- I held her against the wall and rammed my hips into her. And all the while, she was licking and biting my lips and jaw and cheeks and digging her fingernails into my back and my shoulders. And I just kept ramming into her, again, and again, and again.

And if you're thinking that I'm just being selfish, thinking about my own wants, heedless and insensitive of Gina -- well, think again. All the time that I am unleashing my lust on her, Gina is biting and scratching and saying, "Oh, God, El -- I've missed you -- I've missed this -- fuck the shit out of me," and her cunt is absolutely dripping its juices all over my balls.

I pulled my mouth away from hers and bent my head to her nipples, and I sucked, and I licked around them, and sucked some more, and then bit -- hard --

And that's when Gina came. Pulling my mouth to her tit, digging her nails into my shoulders, pulling my hair 'til I couldn't hold back any more, I pumped weeks' worth of lust and longing into her hot, juicing cunt.

And this crude description of what I did -- of what

we

did -- does not signify any change in my tenderness toward Gina, or my respect for her. What it does do is describe two people who really want each other and who've been denied the chance to indulge those wants. Until now.

I backed up and fell backward onto the bed, Gina on top of me. My cock was still inside her when we fell, but with the change in position, and as wet as Gina was -- and with the inevitable shrinkage -- I slipped out. We did have enough control to get up and pull the spread off the bed before we ruined it with all the fluids coming out of Gina's cunt and off of my cock, then slid back into bed. And then, what was maybe the most erotic part of the whole afternoon: I lay back on the pillows, and Gina tucked her head into my shoulder and threw one leg -- which I now know to be absolutely the perfect length legs -- across me and ran her small hand through the soft fur of my chest and said, "I've missed you, El -- I've missed us,"

And we drifted off, holding each other, for the first time in what felt like so very, very long.

* * * * *

We decided we didn't want to waste time getting dressed and going to the Inn's restaurant and waiting and eating and coming back to the room -- and undressing again.

Instead, like young lovers, or perhaps in my case I should say

new

lovers, we decided to stay in our room -- our

suite

-- and order room service. And, of course, there was a handsome bound menu already prominently displayed on the desk. Everything on it looked so good that we had trouble choosing and went through several iterations of choices before deciding on a chilled seafood salad for an appetizer, then the London broil and a dinner salad that we would share, and then a chocolate mousse for dessert. In fact, I'm not too crazy about chocolate mousse. But women... So I thought that agreeing to the mousse would be the prudent strategy for any guy to follow.

I had ordered a split -- a half-bottle -- of a sparkling French "champagne" (little "c") to drink with the seafood salad, along with a bottle of a California cabernet to have with the beef. Any last glasses of the cab would go nicely with the chocolate mousse.

Gina was delighted, of course, with the champagne, but when I opened the bottle of cab she asked, "Two bottles? Aren't you afraid all this wine will stunt my growth?"

This time it was my turn to punch her in the arm. "You goof!"

Gina grabbed my arm and hugged herself to me.

Seriously, does it get any better than this?

* * * * *

After dinner we were sitting on the rattan loveseat on "our terrace," enjoying the final sips of the now-flat champagne, when Gina said, "I told my mother. About you and me, I mean."

"And is she...?"

"She's fine. First, of course, she wanted to know how I was -- if I'm OK."