(Thanks to dmallord for editing assistance. All errors remain mine.)
*
The giggling of girls caused my first realization that I might be awake.
Well, young women, not girls, technically. All the women in my house had been over eighteen when I had gone to sleep. Since the time machine had not been invented, it was safe to assume they remained legally adults.
Shhh... be careful not to wake him," someone whispered, generating a further gale of giggles.
The voice was so soft, almost silent, that I could not say who the speaker was. Were they the ringleader over whatever prank was about to occur, or a reluctant follower, afraid of being revealed if I opened my eyes?
'Whose wet, a warm mouth is wrapped around my rapidly swelling cock?'
I wondered.
Still, I resisted the urge to open my eyes just yet. If I were dreaming, perhaps the erotic moment would pass without climax if I awoke. Worst case, I might embarrass one of Chloe's friends while they engaged in some harmless fun and sexual exploration. That might scar their psyche for life.
Whoever it was, her tongue was teasing my pee slit, coaxing the first beads of precum to bubble up into the cool air of my bedroom. Dancing fingers rolled my balls and caressed my cock at the root. She bathed me with her lips, starting by circling the helmet, paying particular attention to the ridge where the bulb met the rod. She lowered her head, taking me fully, deep into her throat. Then she rose slowly, tongue and teeth teasing my tender flesh.
The giggling had stopped. If holding your breath made a sound, that was what replaced the youthful tittering. I imagined two pairs of eyes staring out of faces that remained featureless in my brain. My mind could not accept the reality of being assaulted by one of my daughter's guests. I did not even consider the possibility that it might be Chloe gifting me joyful, expert oral sex, the best blowjob of my life. Contemplating that it could be Chloe watching intently was as shocking as I could handle.
I decided not to open my eyes just yet. Instead, I reached down and stroked some smooth hair. Still not a clue which girl was blowing me. She drew her mouth slowly up my cock, about a half inch at a time, pausing to wrap her tongue right around the shaft, like a python squeezing its prey. I felt my seed anxiously awaiting an opportunity to explode, but the girl kept a tight grip on the root of my cock. I could feel enough breaking past this dam so that she must be tasting me, but that was all.
My unknown attacker lowered her mouth over me repeatedly, my cock sliding effortlessly deep down her experienced throat. How could such a young woman give such a great blowjob?
In another wordless display of practiced talent, she released her grip on the base of my cock, and slid those fingers underneath my scrotum. And along my taint. One finger curled past my taint through my anal ring and stimulated my prostate. My hips jumped off the mattress.
I had exploded loudly before, and in my youth, I had produced some mighty quantities of cum, but none of them rivalled the load I spurted into that throat.
"Don't be a greedy bitch. We want a share, too," a voice instructed. My brain was too addled by hormones to recognize the speaker.
My eyes remained tightly shut as two or three more mouths sucked my bulb, each with their technique. One seemed to love inserting the tip of their tongue in my gaping slit. Another licked me like an ice cream cone. As the final contestant milked me so dry that she must have ended up with a mouthful of dust, Chloe whispered, "Go back to sleep, Daddy."
So I knew that she had watched, but to this day, I do not know if she participated.
When I woke back up, the birds were singing outside my window. Only the mix of the scents of cheap beer and cheaper perfume confirmed that my visitors had not just been a dream. Though the abrasions along my cock, the near lip gloss, and the deep ache of my penis all combined as proof that not only had I not imagined the visitors, but I had experienced much more vigorous sex that could have occurred in my own hands alone.
The kitchen was sparkling and smelled of fresh coffee. I had done something right in raising Chloe. As I poured myself a cup, I heard the pitter-patter of post-adolescent feet on the stairs.
My cock had started to swell again as I thought about my morning, despite the recent intense draining. The sound of someone approaching completed its journey to an erection.
It was not Chloe who appeared. I instantly realized that I had mixed feelings about that, but I resolved to address that later. For now, a beautiful, scantily clad young woman was approaching -- perhaps one whose breath already carried the scent of my seed.
As she bounded athletically, two stairs per step, down the stairs in front of me, I noticed that Olivia was wearing lingerie that barely covered her ass. With each action, the movement threatened to expose bare flesh. It was a dark fabric, which no doubt would be sheer in the right light, but from my vantage point, was opaque. Still, the sight of her well-toned young limbs made me throb. My excitement was doubled, indeed redoubled, as I imagined how perfectly those thighs must form into an ass.
Olivia was wearing a T-Shirt several sizes too small, no doubt something she had rescued from Chloe's stockpile since my daughter was always reluctant to dispose of favourites, even if they no longer fit. The fabric was worn thin from years of wear. Olivia's nipples were poking urgently, trying to pierce the well-worn cloth. Each breath threatened that her nipples would find enough room between the threads to pop loose and on display. My whole body shivered, from my shoulders into my spine to my groin, where my cock shook with desire.
"I thought you couldn't sleep over because of cheerleader practice." I finally said, amazed by my calmness.
Was it Olivia whose breath would smell the scent of my seed? I desperately needed to kiss her to find out. Unless she had brushed her teeth, would that confirm the truth if all the girls had time to smell spearmint?
"I am captain this year, so I say when we practice, and with our competition schedule, this was like my only chance...."
She paused, chewing her lower lip.
"...to enjoy a sleepover?" I suggested.
"If enjoying a sleepover means time with you, yes," Olivia blushed.
I had stroked myself to sleep many nights imagining Olivia's mouth sliding down my shaft, her teeth teasing the tender silky layer of outer flesh. Her fingers rolled my balls in their sac, her tongue licking me like a lollipop, then her head bobbing up and down as she deep-throated me. Having come not much before this, it took a while before my seed spurted up my shaft. Olivia swallowed every drop until she raised her head, looked me in the eye, licked a stray drop off her lower lip, and commented, "Not quite great gobs of goo, but pretty tasty, Mr. C."
Chloe's friends called me Mr. C., even though C was not the first letter of either of my names. It was a tribute to Howard Cunningham, the father on the old show Happy Days, which the girls used to watch in their youngster days, playfully debating whether All-American Richie or motorcycle rebel Fonzie was cuter. Usually, they want to marry Richie but have the Fonz as a boyfriend. The arguments ended safely before the girls were old enough to understand what it meant to date or marry. But the nickname stuck. Now that the girls were over eighteen, I tried to ignore the Happy Days fab fiction on Literotica, my favourite erotica site. Fortunately, the top-ranked tale focused on Mrs. C and Fonzie, a combination not an issue in my brain or my balls.
A wicked voice in my head asked me what I imagine you are wondering -- was it Laverne or Shirley I had pictured while Olivia sucked me off? Well, I was always a Cindy Williams fan.
None of this felt even remotely like my earlier oral adventure, but it was close enough that I could not swear that someone other than Olivia had swallowed my earlier load. After all, Chloe's mother had probably sucked me a thousand times, but it always felt fresh and different.
I was still curious about which young woman or women had enjoyed my seed, but what I most wanted to do with Olivia at that moment was what I liked most with any woman- to lick her all over, slowly focusing in on her cunt, which I imagined would be soaked by the time my tongue teased her slit open. Olivia's thighs must already be drenched from the pungent waft of womanly musk rising to my nostrils.
My orgasms I had always considered it cheap and easy to achieve since I was proficient at swiftly surging semen solo. I had always considered bringing my partner to climax more work, but more important than my relief. No matter how I aged, my balls and cock still thought I had just discovered masturbation. As I just said, triggering my explosions of splodge was easy. Still, having an inventive partner showing exceptional skills was always fun. Perhaps even more fun when they were inappropriately young, barely legal like I had been when I had started up with Chloe's mom.
After Olivia left, I poured a coffee with a splash of whiskey. Walking out through the sliding door toward the pool, I saw a young woman bent over a lounge chair. Her ass was thrust up to the sky, giving me an eyeful. A neon orange triangle of fabric stretched across her well-tanned and toned flesh but caught slightly as it curved under her body, suggesting that the front might be a string easily seen in the folds of her labia.
No one else was out by the pool so early in the morning, so I stood there sipping coffee and enjoying the view. My cock twitched in exhausted excitement, slowly refilling and stiffening as my daughter finished her fiddling and settled beside the deck. Her fingers were drifting down her belly, caressing it in a way I knew meant she must be wet.
I wanted to stop watching, to go back inside, to keep alive the belief that my little girl was too innocent to be horny, despite knowing almost definitely that she had at least watched me getting a blow job last night and possibly had been the mouth wrapped around my cock, the throat I coated with great gobs of goo. But I did not move. I stood quietly and watched.
As I had guessed, the front of the suit was even skimpier than the back. Her clit was barely covered, with swollen labia exposed on either side. Her fingers grasped that string stuck in her labia and pulled it free. A fingernail caressed her clit before she let the fabric settle against it. I smelled the scent she had released. My cock pressed urgently against my pants, wanting to stand tall.
I knew I ought to be ashamed of even an automatic reaction to my progeny's pulchritude, but Chloe spoke before I could sort those feelings out.
"Take it out," she demanded. Her tongue wet her bottom lip.
I froze, speechless. My cock was chubby up to that point, but by now, it had started to throb to fullness. As she watched me, she must be able to see the bulge growing. My hand started to imitate hers, drifting down to stroke my groin.
"What, did you think I would ask if you made coffee enough for me, Daddy? I want to see how hard I made you without even trying." Chloe giggled. "And you know I already saw it last night. So, sure, like, it is taboo and all, but we already smashed that vase into too many pieces to glue together. So we might as well enjoy ourselves."
As she spoke, my feet were leading me in her direction a couple of steps faster than my brain could keep up. My free hand dropped to my zipper but lingered, still unsure.
