Staring into the darkness for a minute, Jessi tried figuring out where she was and what had woken her. Then her eyes adjusted to the dark, aided by the sliver of light beaming out from under the bathroom door, and she remembered: she was in a hotel room. Her mother's soft snoring in the other bed told her it must be her dad in the bathroom, the latching of the door likely what had woken her. They were taking her back to college after summer break and had been about six hours into the nine-hour drive when her mother experienced one of her migraines. She didn't get them often, but when she did they were debilitating, and they'd pulled into the first hotel they found. It happened to be one of the swankier hotels, costing more than her parents usually spent for rooms, so they'd decided to bunk together. At nineteen, it'd been years since Jessi had shared a room with her parents, but under the circumstances it was the smart thing to do. While her dad covered the room's window with black-out curtains, her mother took her meds with half a bottle of wine, then donned her sleeping mask and quickly passed out. It'd still been early so Jessi and her father had spent time enjoying the hotel's pool and jacuzzi, ate dinner at a nearby restaurant, then went to a movie before slipping into the room and quietly going to bed themselves.
With the mystery solved, she rolled over and went back to sleep.
In her dreams she snuggled up to her boyfriend Tom in his dorm room, his strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her tight to him. His hand slid up and down her side and over her lower back, gently rubbing her through her t-shirt and stirring a warmth within her. Jessi's hand slid down from his chest to his crotch where it found the bulge of his manhood, his loose shorts allowing her to wrap her fingers around the thick shaft and gently tug on it. As it throbbed to life tropical breezes wafted through her loins, stirring her embers. Tom's free hand reached over to cup one of her firm B-cup breasts, his palm covering it, his fingers squeezing the pliant mound and awakening an ache within the twin orbs. As her nipples began to swell, poking at her shirt, he swiped his thumb back and forth across the one, sending sparks of electricity shooting along her nerves. The tropical breezes stiffened, fanning her embers into smoldering briquettes of desire and their heat radiated throughout her body.
She wanted to reach up and kiss Tom, to press her lips to his and slide her tongue into his mouth. But for some reason she couldn't. This seemed unimportant in the dreamland and she leisurely drifted along on the waves of passion created by his fondling of her breast and the feel of his rigid cock in her grasp.
After a few minutes he rolled her over onto her other side and snuggled up behind her, rubbing his hard cock against her ass. Reaching over her, his hand slipped up under her shirt to cup and fondle her breast directly. The heat from his palm sizzled against her flesh, the ache growing and her nipple becoming fully engorged. Shifting his hand, he tweaked the swollen bud between thumb and forefinger, making it zing with more electricity. As Jessi's embers began to snap and crackle within her loins she ground her ass back against his manhood.
Wait! What? Her mind suddenly filled with questions. As she'd been rolled over, she'd woken slightly and in the fading slumber she questioned things she'd missed in the dream. Things like why Tom's bed seemed wider and more comfortable than usual? Why the sheets were softer? Why the pillow was fuller? Fluffier? And why didn't the room smell of sweat and take-out? The answers soon screamed through the remaining slumber and her eyes shot open in shock. It wasn't Tom's room, or bed, or . . . or . . . Oh my God!
She was still in the hotel room. In the hotel's bed. And it wasn't Tom behind her . . . it was her dad. It was her dad's hand inside her shirt, fondling her breast . . . making it pulse with desire. It was her dad's fingers tweaking her nipple . . . making it spark and crackle. It was her dad's cock she'd been tugging on . . . and that was now rubbing against her ass . . . that she was grinding back against.
My God! Stop it! Stop it! She screamed at herself.
And she did . . . for the moment.
Stopping herself from grinding back against him, she worked through how things must have developed. After going to the bathroom her father had climbed in bed with her, probably to get away from the violent tossing and turning his wife's meds caused. He'd done it in years past, when her mother would get a migraine during one of their vacations. That'd been long before Jessi had become sexually active, and of course, nothing had ever happened . . . nothing like this.
But then, she'd never had naughty dreams that'd made her rub at his cock.
She imagined that her attentions to his manhood had started him dreaming. And like her, he'd dreamed it was his partner doing it. So he'd responded accordingly; believing it was his wife's tit he was manipulating . . . his wife's ass he was grinding against.
Jessi frantically tried to think how to end things. She didn't want to just slap him. There was no reason to shock him like that . . . especially with her part in it.
What the...?! Alarms suddenly started ringing through her mind.
While trying to decipher the events and figure out an exit, her body had reflexively started responding again to the things he was doing. She'd shifted to press her tit into his hand firmer and was rolling her ass back against him . . . hard.
While these actions bothered her, they didn't exactly surprise her.
She enjoyed sex . . . a lot. The feel of a man touching her . . . his strong hands molding her breasts . . . his fingers toying with her nipples. She loved the smell of a man and the feel of his hand on her sex . . . the sensation of his rigid cock sliding inside her. And it'd been ten weeks since she'd been with Tom. Ten . . . long . . . weeks since Tom - or any man - had done the things her daddy was doing.
And it did feel so good . . . so, so good . . .
Even if it was her daddy.
Do something, she told herself.
But she didn't.
The feel of his hand on her pert breast . . . the sensation of his rigid manhood pressing against her ass . . . had turned her embers into red-hot coals of passion. And while she knew it was wrong, she didn't want it to stop.
Not yet.
Not . . . just . . . yet.
Pulling his hand away from her breast, he drew her shirt up and piled it above her tits. The covers had slid down to her waist and the room's airconditioned air swirled over her breasts, making her flesh and nipples tingle. His other arm was under her neck and he brought that hand to her chest as well, so that he could fondle both her firm tits at once. His fingers squeezed and molded her aching mounds, sculpting and reshaping them. Taking both her nipples between thumb and forefinger he tweaked them a couple times, then returned to molesting the fleshy mounds. The ache within them pulsed harder and her body sizzled with the heat of her embers.
"Mmm," she quietly mewed.
Or at least she thought it was quiet.
"Shh, Babe," he whispered. "You don't wanna wake our roommate."
Jessi's nerves jangled with the realization that he was now awake too. Yet he must still think she was her mother, since 'Babe' was his nickname for his wife. It was an easy enough mistake, especially in the pitch-dark hotel room. Both women had small, petite frames with B-cup breasts, slim waists, and little heart-shaped asses. The only thing that would actually distinguish them from one another in the dark was the length of their dirty-blond hair; Jessi kept hers shoulder length, several inches shorter that her mother's.
Now that he was awake she knew she should say something to end things before they went any further. And she fully intended to. In fact, she was on the verge of doing it when one hand slid away from her breast and his fingers began tracing delicate lines down across her tummy, making her abs quiver excitedly.
No. No. No. She told herself, biting at her lip as his fingers crept further and further down, gradually approaching the waistband of her shorts. She told herself she couldn't let him touch her . . . down there. But as his fingers slid back and forth across her flesh they stirred butterflies in her tummy and made her abs quiver more and she remained silent, panting with anticipation. Her time sleeping with Tom had gotten her used to going commando so, along with the t-shirt, she only wore a pair of little gym shorts that were loose enough to allow him easy access to...
His fingers reached the short's waistband . . . dipped under it . . . slipped down . . . across her pelvis . . . down . . . down . . .
"Mmm," she mewed as two fingers slid through her wet slit. Her hips jerked slightly, trying to press herself against those fingers and his cock at once as her embers burst into flames, the orange-red tongues dancing.
"Damn, you're wet," he whispered, his voice excited.
His one hand continued fondling her breast while his fingers played in her slit, slipping up and down through her wetness a few times. Drawing the fingers up, he found her clit and settled them atop the button. As he rubbed the engorged bud, electricity screamed through it and shot along her nerves, making her fires grow. After a minute his fingers slid down away from her clit to rub at her opening. Pressing gently, one of his digits easily slipped inside her and he hooked it to massage her inner wall while shifting the heel of his palm atop of her clit.
Oh my God! My daddy's fingerin' me! He's playin' with my tittie! She silently whimpered, unable to believe it was really happening. Even less believable was how much her body was responding. The multiple contacts had her fires roaring within her loins . . . her body sizzling against the a/c air swirling over her flesh . . . and her juices flowing freely. Her pert breasts pulsed and throbbed with desire, her nipples engorged spikes of lust at their front. Her hips rolled and gyrated, rubbing her ass back against his rigid cock and twisting her sex at his finger.
Then his hand pulled away from her pussy, out of her shorts, and back behind her. As he pulled his crotch away from her ass, she felt the bed shifting and his body moving as he started working his shorts down.
"Mmm," she mewed, careful to be quiet. She didn't know if her response was from her body missing his hand and cock pressing against her . . . or from the knowledge of what he intended next.
Again she told herself to do something to stop this, to end things before...
Yet, she still didn't act.
Instead she lay there, panting with anticipation, her heart racing, her body aching for him . . . for his cock . . . for her daddy's cock.
With his shorts shoved out of the way he scooted down a little on the bed, his hand simply resting atop her breast for the moment. His other hand grasped one leg of her shorts and pulled it aside and her body reacted instinctively; keeping her one leg stretched across the bed, she lifted the other and bent her knee, offering herself to her daddy. His hard cock slipped inside her short's leg . . . slid up along her inner thigh. When it touched her sex she inhaled sharply and held her breath. The tip slid along her slit . . . settled at her opening.
Then it simply stayed there for a minute, pressing gently.
