"There. That bloody thing's done!"
Rob threw down the pen, having put in the last figures. Leaning back in his chair, he yawned mightily , flexing his arms over his head. He needed a workout, he mused as he stretched his muscles. For an accountant he was in remarkably good shape.
Although 50, his stomach was flat, his arms well muscled and his hair was as thick and unruly as when he was 20. He refused to submit to the stereotypical accountant persona – and as a result, spent 4 sweaty, hard evenings a week in the gym.
The banker's light on his desk cast a warm glow on the paperwork he had just finished. Dusk was creeping in on cat's feet, casting shadows outside the window, while tendrils of waning sunlight sent fingers of illumination, motes of dust dancing in the air, picking out the oxblood red of the couch which stood in front of the dormant fireplace. Bookcases lined every available space, floor to ceiling, oak shelves dusty and warm, groaning with the weight of words and scholarship. The floor to ceiling glass doors to the private patio were obscured by heavy curtains, which he had pulled against the stronger light of the afternoon.
He yawned again, closing his eyes, relieving the strain of making out tiny columns of numbers and dates.
Padding to the doors on bare feet, flagstones cool against his feet he pulled the curtain slightly and looked out, breathing in the soft summer air which wafted through the screen.
The patio was his private oasis, his way of de-stressing after busy, demanding days. Reached by several jumbled wooden steps down from the main garden, stone walls enclosed on three sides a sweet escape. Morning glories grew in riotous abandon along the nooks and crannies, their tenacious tendrils able to grasp and survive anywhere. Heart shaped leaves and the sweet bloom of the trumpet flours, blue and pink and fuscia softened the tumbled stone while hollyhocks, sunflowers and echinacea filled out overblown but lovely flower beds. Red terra cotta bricks provided a resting place for a comfortably distressed cast iron bench.
He was alone in the house, his wife away, his daughter out on a date. His green eyes softened as he thought of his baby girl – not such a baby now, he thought smiling. Already in third year university, his little girl was going to be 21 soon and her lush figure, piquant face and clever mind ensured she was having a wonderful time. As if his thoughts had conjured her up, he suddenly heard his Aisling's voice just outside the patio doors.
Grinning, he was about to pull open the screen door and greet her when he heard a male voice. Pausing, Rob peeked around, curious to see who she had brought home.
The first thing he saw was the long slender legs of his daughter, her narrow hips snugly encased in a very short tartan kilt. A skimpy tank top barely enclosed her very generous breasts. What made him gasp were the hands which were squeezing and fondling those heavy breasts.
"Christ." he muttered, mortified and embarrassed. Pulling back carefully, he made sure he was hidden behind the curtain.
It was unlikely anyone could see in. The waning sun reflected off the glass doors which were further obscured by the heavy curtains.
Despite himself, Rob peeked around to see what Aisling was doing. Given the sensual nature of he and his wife both – he knew that it was a pretty foregone conclusion that Aisling had an active sex life. And while he didn't morally have an issue with that, it left him uncomfortable. His wife, who was pragmatic about most things, said it was just because it was HIS little girl.
And now there she was.
HIS little girl with some guy's hands all over those delectable breasts! He admitted to himself as he reluctantly felt a prickling of envy, that he had had some very unfatherly thoughts about those pretty breasts before. He had chastised himself each time he caught himself eyeing those heavy orbs, but at the same time realized he was only human and Aisling had a definite penchant for displaying those breasts as much as possible.
Rob's mouth felt extremely dry as peeking around, he saw the man's hands had now pushed the tank up and the pale skinned heavy breasts were now free of any restraint. Rob felt his jaw fall open. He had imagined (he admitted to himself rather ashamedly) what those breasts would look like naked but the reality was overwhelming.
Large and full, they hung heavy, jutting from her chest, firm and buoyant. Her nipples were a dark brown, with large areoles. The tips were swollen and hard, extended like little thumbs from a breathtaking tilted expanse of pale flesh.
He watched, fascinated as the boy leaned down and began to lap at the sweet morsel of flesh he cupped in his hand.
Aisling groaned, her slender hand coming up to cup the head now suckling eagerly at the breast. Rob watched as she cupped her own breast, pushing the nipple further into the eager mouth. He heard the boy's harsh breathing through the screen, the suckling sound of his wet hot mouth on his child's heavy breast.
Unaware, Rob's own breathing was coming faster. He watched, enraptured as his daughter, giggling pulled her breast from the boy's mouth. Dropping to her knees, he saw her fumble at the boy's pants.
The sound of a zipper was crystal clear in the quiet of the evening. Rob watched as the boy's painfully stiff cock suddenly sprung out. From his vantage point he could see that it was impressively thick, the head spongy and a deep rose, drooling clear viscous fluid from its tip.
Aisling leaned over and opening her sweet mouth sank down onto the cock. Rob gasped, then caught himself. He was helpless. Unable to stop himself, his hand crept down and he cupped his heavy aching erection. Carefully, quietly, he unzipped and let his drooling prick free.
Slowly, gently, so as not to make any sudden movements that might attract attention, he began to rub his prick up and down its thick, moist shaft, his eyes glued to the unbelievably erotic sight of his daughter sucking cock.
He watched as her head bobbed up and down, the boy's hands tangled now in her flaming curls, urging that sweet mouth closer and deeper.
A click and a soft light illuminated the darkening garden and Rob suddenly had a far clearer picture of the white shaft, flecked with dark hair appearing and disappearing in the tight bud of her mouth, the sound of her sucking and licking it driving him quite mad.
One of Aisling's hands went to one heavy breast, and Rob stifled a groan as he saw his child cup and fondle the orb, then begin plucking at the delectable stiff nipple. He realized, horrified but unbelievably turned on, that he wanted HIS mouth there, suckling his daughter's breast.
He could see the firm muscled buttocks of the boy flexing and relaxing as he pushed his cock in and out of Aisling's mouth. While he watched, he heard the boy groan, his hands tightening convulsively on the red curls and suddenly he lurched forward, a keening cry renting the quiet of the garden.
Rob gasped as Aisling gasped, tried to pull back. The boy's hands tightened, his buttocks clenching and he saw her cheeks balloon out.
"Oh Christ, oh Christ." he said under his breath, his hand working frantically at his cock.
He felt like he was going to explode as he realized that the boy was pumping jets of hot cum right down his little girl's throat. He could see it dribbling out the side, drooling rivulets of frothy cum down the corners of her mouth as she struggled to swallow this unexpected bounty.
It was over before he could take a deep breath. Aisling pulled away, her throat working convulsively as she tried to swallow the mouthful of hot cum. The boy, legs trembling, sat heavily down on the bench, breathing heavily.
Rob was almost in shock. He looked down at his damp palm, smeared and wet with the clear fluid which was literally leaking from the slit at the top of his rock hard prick.
A trilling startled him, and he fumbled at his cock, trying to stuff it back in. Then he realized it was a cell, and listening intently, heard the boy talking to someone. Peeking around, he saw him with the phone to his ear, one hand absently rubbing Aisling's breast. Then, unbelievably (from Rob's perspective) the boy turned to his daughter and very obviously was trying to placate her.
Aisling was furious. He could see by the stiffness in her back which was facing him that she was in one of her full fledged redheaded tempers. She was speaking sharply to the boy. Rob could just catch a few words.
"you ... had ...cum". she said angrily.
"and me?" he heard.
The boy spoke again, placantly. Rob almost giggled – he obviously wasn't that familiar with his flame haired daughter if he thought a few words would suffice.
