Hardly more than a week had passed since Lena and I had shared a miraculous evening, and I was still reeling from the event. There had been moments when I thought it had all been a dream, and yet the reality of it was overwhelming. Lena had conditioned our encounter with the stipulation that it could never happen again. And I had accepted that condition. Yet I yearned for a second round with my beautiful daughter to confirm the taste, smell and feel of that beautiful pussy that haunted my memories. And recalling her parting comment, "Call me when Mom's out of town again," I longed for a repeat performance. Needless to say, I was shocked when Lena called me. Once again a single woman, it seemed that she needed some minor home repairs, leaky faucets and the like. There were no innuendos or insinuations, just Lena asking Dad for help, like she had done so many times in the past.
"Sure, Hon," I said. "I'll try to make it down toward the end of the week."
But I had a dilemma. It was a certainty that my wife would want to accompany me to our daughter's, and that would ruin everything. Then the notion struck me. As a consultant I traveled considerably. I would plan a business trip a few days in advance, then swing by Lena's town on Friday. My wife never wanted to go on business trips. The days seemed to last forever and the nights, dreaming of Lena, were almost unbearable. Finally, on Wednesday of that week I left home. I was able to accomplish nothing in two days of business travel, and I rolled into Lena's town about 8:00 PM Thursday night. I was sure she wasn't expecting me until sometime Friday and I had some qualms about showing up unexpected. But that didn't stop me. I knocked on the door, then, as usual, went in announcing my presence.
"Hey, anybody home? The plumber's here."
I found Lena and Donna sitting in the living room drinking a beer. Lena rose and gave me a quick daughterly hug, and I said hello to Donna. Why did she have to be there? I wanted time alone with Lena.
"Youn don't know where a guy could do some easy chores for a night's room and board, do you?", I said.
Quick to respond, Lena said, "You bet, there, buddy. Always willing to help out a good looking guy."
I sat next to Lena and asked Donna, "So have you fully recovered since the last time we were together?"
Being a little quicker than I gave her credit for, Donna replied, "Not completely. I suppose it will take a little longer for things to get back to normal." At that comment she leered at Lena, who burst into laughter.
"I told her it was us, Dad. And after a day or so of not talking to me, she agreed it was kind of funny," Lena confessed.
I was embarrassed beyond belief. Had she told Donna everything? Did Donna know about Lena and I? I was ready to shrink into the cushions of the couch.
Donna rescued me. "Don't sweat it. At least you were a gentleman about it. I guess you could have done much more than you did. At least it was you and not some stranger without a conscience. It's still embarrassing, though, not to mention itchy. Well, I gotta split. You guys enjoy your handi-work."
Donna quickly departed, leaving Lena and I in a very uncomfortable silence.
Being the first to speak, I said, "Shall we get started tonight or wait until tomorrow?"
"No, it's too late to mess with this shit now. Tomorrow will be fine. I talked to Mom today and she said she thought you might be here tonight. I was surprised she wasn't coming too. I have had a lot of mixed emotions about you coming alone. Dad, I don't want to get involved with something that will eventually cause us both some grief. But I have to admit you have been on my mind a lot."
Lena's expression was much more serious than I was accustomed to, and I began to think that all this was a huge mistake. As much as I wanted Lena physically, I didn't want to destroy our relationship.
"Lena, you know I would never lie to you, so I will admit that I came here tonight with visions of grandeur. I know you said there couldn't be any repeat performances, but haven't I always taught you to repay your debts?" I broke the seriousness with a big grin.
"Asshole," she said, as she jumped from the couch and headed for the kitchen. "When I found out you were coming tonight, I went to the store and picked us up a little supper and dessert. Come see what I got."
I followed her to the kitchen, surprised at the instant change of subject matter. She opened the frig and produced two sub sandwiches and a couple bottles of beer. We sat at the kitchen bar and ate a quick bite, conversing like the old days. She assured me that Donna didn't know anything more, then bad-mouthed her latest ex. We finished the sandwiches and each grabbed another beer to take to the living room. For about an hour we just talked and laughed and drank beer, and Lena's great humor almost made me forget the lust I felt for her earlier. I was about to concede that our encounter had, indeed, been a one-time event, when Lena said, "Do you want to see what I got us for dessert?'
"Sure," I said innocently.
Again we went to the kitchen where Lena opened a cupboard. When she turned around she held two large bottles of cocoa butter lotion. That girlish grin spread across her face, and she ran for the couch.
"This time I will get my lotion," she giggled. "You know, actually, I bought a bottle earlier this week, but I am afraid I used it all up," she said, feigning innocence.
"And just how did you use a whole bottle of lotion in such a short period of time," I said, playing the game.
"Now how do you suppose? Because my skin was extremely dry? No. Because I just like the smell? No. I guess it was because thinking about that night makes me so God-damned horny I can't stop jacking off, Shithead! Now, first things , first. There's this debt I owe."
Lena literally pushed me down on the couch, then bent over and began unbuckling my belt. Without speaking I assisted her in getting my pants pulled down to my knees. She immediately went to work on my already stiff prick. A couple gentle stokes at first, then with her tongue she started small circles on the head of my cock, much like the motions I did during our massage session. As the circles increased, so did the surface contact with her tongue. It was as though her tongue was wrapping the head of my cock in a warm, silky, wet blanket. Several minutes of this action without her lips even touching me, was quickly bringing me to the edge. But it was an edge I didn't want to hurry.
"Hey, Speedy, what's the rush?", I said as I pushed her away.
"No rush, Pop. But when the nights over I want you to be indebted to me." She giggled and tried to resume .
"Wait a minute. I have a serious question," I said. "All your life you have had a high gag reflex. You trim every ounce of fat from your meat before you eat it because you say the texture of the fats gags you. You have never eaten any foods that have the slightest hint of being slimy, yet you swallowed my cum like it wasn't there. What's the deal?"
"No big deal," she said. "I just make sure that when you cum your cock is in my throat, not my mouth. That way I don't taste it or feel it. I guess that works out good for both of us, huh? It's just a good thing that you don't have a short dick. Now if it's alright with you, I have work to do."
Immediately Lena swallowed my cock, but with me on the couch and her kneeling on the floor, she was at a 90 degree angle to me and could not get quite the depth of penetration she had before. It didn't matter though. My cock was still lodged deep in her throat and the feeling was even better than the memory. Between the suction and the motion and the warmth, Lena got the best of me in minutes, as my cum exploded deep in her throat. Then as quickly as she had started, she rose, pushed my feet off the couch and sat next to me.
