"Oh, shit. Dad, uh, no rush, but I think I'll need a bath." Tori had come to after her orgasm, feeling her thighs soaking wet, her pussy inflamed and dribbling. Her dad had just helped her have her first orgasm in a long, long time, holding the vibe to her clit that her broken and casted hands weren't able to. She couldn't walk around like this, so had to request a clean up. She was usually frustrated whenever she had to ask for something like this, but now she just felt contented, and couldn't even muster that limited frustration.
"No problem," Mark said, his back to her. He had quickly gotten up and was facing away from her, his handle on the door knob. "I'll go draw up the water."
Tori lay in a contented haze, feeling muscles in her body unwind that she hadn't realized were tense for days until now, when they had finally gotten a chance to relax. She was surprised to find she still had strong desire - she was still horny. Tori wasn't normally a multi-orgasmic girl, having strong orgasms but then needing some cooling off before doing more. But right now her body tingled, and she felt like she could go again if she had the chance. She let her mind wander, to the feeling of her orgasm, to past sexual encounters, to the pleasant sensation of her hard nipples against her shirt.
But her reverie was disturbed by a growing discomfort - her bed was getting uncomfortable, a wetness seeping under her ass. She shifted up in her bed and pulled the blankets off her lower half. What she saw was unmistakable: there was a massive puddle, staining her sheets darker. She wasn't just dripping wet. She hadn't just cum hard. She had squirted. All over her dad's hand and arm, probably, no wonder he was in such a hurry to run out of the room.
She was surprised that she squirted - usually it took some pretty good g-spot stimulation to get her to do that, and this had been entirely clit play. Well, not entirely clit play she was forced to admit. Near the end there her dad had been forced to press the bullet vibe really hard against her to stop it slipping off, and his finger was down past the end of it, and with each thrust she could feel it tickling the entrance to her pussy. That was what had pushed her over the edge into one of the most explosive orgasms of her life. Literally explosive, as it turned out. She got herself out of bed, and briefly considered trying to get the sheets off - then, looking down at her useless arms, she immediately gave up. She'd just hurt herself if she tried. And it's not like her dad would be surprised by the carnage, he must have felt the fluid gushing against him near the end there.
She decided to go find her dad and see if he could get the sheets off before the wetness settled beyond the sheets and into the mattress. She briefly considered putting something on her bare lower half, then decided it was pointless. She was about to get bathed anyways.
Opening her door, she heard the sound of running water down the hall - her dad was drawing her a bath. She approached her bathroom, passing her dad's office first, poking her head in to see if he was in there, then his bedroom, which was likewise vacant. Getting to the bathroom door at the end of the hall, she found it ajar, and reached her casted hand out to nudge it open.
She had barely nudged the door open at all, when she paused, dumbstruck. The door opened from the left, and through even a small crack in it, you could see the large pane mirror that took up half the bathroom, from the counter to the ceiling, and almost four feet long. This bathroom was large, the only one on this floor of the house, and had a strange layout, with a mirror and vanity on the left as soon as you entered, but the toilet on the opposite wall, half way down, before getting to a large tube ensconced at the end of the room under a frosted glass window, ensconced in a tile enclosure. Bizarre 70s architecture at it's best.
What made Tori pause was the image in the mirror. Her dad was sitting on the toilet, the lid closed beneath him, his shirt off and his pants down. He had his eyes closed, and was stroking his cock - which was maybe the biggest cock Tori had ever seen in person. She stopped pushing the door open, but couldn't help but stand there to watch. His cock had a purple head and veins going down it, ending in a patch of dark curly hair. He was circumcised, it looked like, but the cock was glistening with wetness... Tori's wetness, she realized with a pang. Her dad was a big man, and had big hands, but he could have easily fit two of them on his cock if he was so inclined, that's how big he was.
Tori bit her lip and stood in the doorway watching, the tingling between her legs leaping into a full burning of desire. Part of it was the image - this cock, on this body that was just her type. But another thing was the feeling of being desired, that feeling of being wanted for her body that was such a turn on for her.
Tori could usually get guys, or girls, for that matter, when she wanted them. But she was clear minded enough to know why they went for her - she was funny, punchy, smart, could hold her own in almost any conversation, and gave as good as she got. And then they were usually surprised once they got her into the bedroom, to find this tomboy-esque, brash young woman was actually one of the subbiest people they'd ever met. She was so eager to please in a sexually, she was kinky, and was usually up for basically anything. But she didn't think many people went for her strictly for her looks. If it was the 90s she might have been considered hot, but now her skinny physique wasn't exactly in style, and her flannels and jeans didn't really do much to highlight anything about her body. Her one concession to femininity was her long black hair, which she wore in a braid that went down most of the length of her back, which she would tuck into her shirts at work.
But this - this was a different kind of desire. A pure, carnal desire. There was nothing else that would make her dad jerk himself off immediately after helping her get off. She knew every fiber of his body would have been trying to stay asexual, and he couldn't. She had - her body had turned him on that much. And feeling that desire, that desire for her body, that was the biggest turn on of all.
She watched rapt as he continued to stroke his cock, and his breathing god faster and shallower. His motions jerkier. And she watched as he threw his head back, and shot cum almost across the room, the first spurt landing on the vanity across from him, before he managed to get his hand in front of the rest, blocking her view. She withdrew her hand from the door, letting it ease back into the position it was, and padded as silently as she could back to her room, thankful the running water masked the clomp of her air casted boot.
God, she couldn't believe she had had that effect on her dad. That was the moment she decided: if he wanted her that badly... she was going to find a way to let him have her.
~~~~~
Mark opened his eyes, still breathing heavily, his hand still wrapped around his cock. He looked at the stains in front of him: on the vanity, across, the floor, drips onto his pants. He probably hadn't cum that hard in years. He tried to convince himself this was only natural - he had just seen a pretty young woman having an orgasm, that would arouse anyone. And he hadn't had a woman in... well, it had been years. Plus, he hadn't been thinking about Tori while he was masturbating. Or at least, not thinking about her that much. He managed to pull his mind to other things. For a bit.
Fuck.
The important thing was that he didn't change his behaviour towards his daughter. She had just asked for a very vulnerable act of service, and making her feel weird about it would do terrible things to everyone. He finally found a thought that calmed his nerves, his conscience, and his cognitive dissonance: things that happen in your head don't matter. Everyone has fantasies. Good or bad, they only matter when they're translated into action.
Speaking of action, he had to take some. Tori would soon be wondering what had kept him so long, and it wouldn't do for her to find him covered in his own cum, his half hard member still sticking out in front of him. He gathered his clothes, and, recognizing they were already going to need a wash, used them to quickly scrub down the vanity and the floor. He pushed open the door - had it always been open? That was pretty stupid - and peaking out, saw an empty hallway, and keeping his clothes in a ball over his cock and balls, darted into his bedroom. He wiped his hands down - probably should have washed them, he thought to himself, then put on swim trunks. They figured out pretty quickly that bathing someone else involved some splashing, and now the routine was for him to be in his swim trunks and nothing else while he bathed Tori. Really cut down on the laundry.
He went back down the hallway, and knocked on Tori's door.
"Come on in!"
Pushing the door open, he found Tori still with no bottoms on, sitting on the edge of the bed. Typically he got her all the way to the bathroom before undressing her, but he guessed there was no point in dressing her just for the short walk.
"Would you mind getting my shirt off in here instead of the bathroom?" Tori asked him, "Sometimes it gets splashed and I quite like this one."
"Uh, sure," Mark said, as she stood up and raised her arms above her head. Getting t-shirts off was always an ordeal with Tori's arms casted the way they were, and this time was no different. There was a bunch of contorting, moving, negotiating, most of it with the shirt half wrapped around Tori's face and shoulders. This time, her already having no bottoms on, Mark was uncomfortably aware of how often his eyes darted down, noticing the line of coarse stubble that was growing in on her previously bald pubic area.
The shirt was up over her shoulders now, and Mark couldn't help but notice the small pink nipples on his daughters pert little breasts. He remembered the first time he offered to help her get a bra on after the accident, to which she replied she hadn't worn a bra in years, hadn't he noticed? She was shirtless at the time, and gestured to her breasts, telling him "they might be small, but at least they stand up all on their own." The shirt was almost liberated from one of the arms, which was the hardest part, but trying to work it past the crook of the elbow, Mark found the inside of his arm gently grazed across Tori's nipple. She didn't react, but his mind went back to her touching them, edging them with the side of her cast as he... during... when he was helping her. He had to look away, because blood was flowing to his cock again.
Tori's shirt finally relented, and she walked out of the room in front of him, her slim ass barely jiggling with each step. "Oh, dad, by the way," she said, turning in profile before she stepped out of her door way, "I'm sorry to ask something else for you to do, but could you pull the sheets off? Before they soak in any more than they already have?"
Mark obliged, stunned at the wetness of the sheets, even though he had felt each gush of Tori's squirt against his arm not a half hour ago. Folding them into a ball, the aroma of her wetness wafted off of them, that same smell he had noticed handling her vibe earlier. He went to put them in her hamper, then, without thinking, brought them to his face and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and breathing out through his mouth before he deposited them in the hamper.
Shaking his head at this indiscretion, Mark joined Tori in the bathroom. This part they had gotten down pat - she tested the water with her toe, then sat on the edge of the bed. Mark knelt to undo her walking cast, and put it outside to air out some. He then went back to the bath, and knelt by Tori, gripping her around her waist as she rotated so her feet were in the bath, then holding her weight as he slowly lowered her.
"God, this feels good," Tori said, easing into the warm water. Mark took up a loofah, and, squeezing some soap onto it. Started washing Tori. He always started at her neck and worked his way down. When he got to her breasts this time, he couldn't help but notice her nipples standing erect, and the slight opening of her mouth as the loofah ran across them. He tried to distract himself by lifting her arm and washing her arm pit. He felt a bristle of growth as he rinsed her down.
"Do you need your hair washed today?" he asked, trying to distract himself a little bit.
