An Unexpected Occurrence

It all started 3 years ago. My mother, who was 67 at the time, went out to meet some longtime friends for dinner. On her way home, a drunken driver crossed the median and smashed my mother's car in a head-on collision. Both he and my mother were killed instantly.

Our whole family was devastated but especially my father. He was beyond devastated. My father had always been a strong, resilient man but now he wept like a baby. We all did out best to console him because we could see however great our own personal sorrow was, his was almost beyond comprehension. After 47 years of marriage, he was alone and in a state of profound grief.

After a week, my brother and sisters went back to their respective homes. As my father and I lived only 20 minutes apart, I would visit him often. My husband and children were very accepting of this, understanding how deep his need was. My father and I would talk, shop, watch TV, play cards, anything to take his mind off his grief. Occasionally, I would also stay over, as he said the nights were the hardest and it helped having someone else in house.

One night, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I was staying over, mainly due to a bad snowstorm. The evening was uneventful and around 11 or so we went to our respective bedrooms. It was always weird sleeping in my old bedroom, with some of the mementos from childhood still around. It had been 20 years since I moved out, fully half my life, but being in this room still made me feel like a little girl.

I changed into my nightwear and fell asleep fairly quickly. Around 1 A.M, I awoke and heard a strange sound. As I drifted back into awareness, I realized it was sobbing. I got up, found my slippers and robe and went out to discover the source. In the hall, I saw the light shining from underneath my parent's bedroom door. I slowly walked up to it and knocked softly on the door. "Dad?" I said in a soft voice. There was no answer but the sobbing continued.

I slowly opened the door. On the edge of the bed sat my father. He had on blue pajamas and was sitting there with his head in his hands, sobbing.

I walked up to him and put my hand on his shoulder. "Dad," I again said softly.

"Oh, Beth, I miss her so. I do miss her so," he cried.

"I know Dad, I know," tears coming to my own eyes. "I do also."

At his point he slowly rose to his feet and hugged me. My father is 5'10". (I'm 5'6") and strong, even at 67, which he was at the time. His embrace was powerful. I returned it, trying to comfort him as he had comforted me so many times before. I so dearly wanted to make him feel better.

Suddenly there was something different about his embrace. He moved his head from my shoulder to my face. Before I knew it, he was kissing me. Not as a father. As a lover. And, without knowing why or thinking about it, I was kissing him. As lovers kiss.

My father had never done anything inappropriate with me or any of my siblings. He was a great father, loving, understanding, caring, stern when we needed it. He never, as far as I ever perceived, looked at us as anything but as a son and daughters who he loved and cared for. And I had never had any sexual feelings for him. Oh, I had a girlish crush on him like I suppose most young girls have on their father. But it was never sexual. Never

Until now.

I eagerly returned his kiss, loving the taste of his mouth on mine. His hands started running up and down my back, then fondling my ass. Under his pajamas, I could feel his cock harden. And I could feel myself respond also.

He put his hand between my legs and felt my wetness. He slowly turned and pushed me gently on the bed. I was gasping for air. He pushed up my clothing and freed his cock, I parted my legs. Then he was on top of me, and then in me. Then he was fucking me. Hard. Like a man driven. Deeper and deeper he went into me. I loved the feeling of his hard cock inside of me, filling me. My own body responded, my pleasure spiraling upward. We were not father and daughter. We were two mad lovers who wanted each other so.

It took just a few minutes, until we both came. He grunted as he ejaculated inside of me, I screamed in pleasure as my own orgasm tore through me. We both gasped for air, bathed in a feeling of sexual pleasure and satisfaction.

After a minute or so, he withdrew. I got up, shakily from the bed. He pulled the covers open, lay on the bed and curled up. I pulled the covers over him and turned off the light. I softly walked out, closed the door and wen back in my own bed. I also curled up and slept sounder than I had in a long, long while.