Don't Wae Daddy

Perhaps my earliest memory was seeing my father walking down the hall late at night in a zombie-like state. Every night I would hear strange noises in the hall, and being a curious child, one night I decided to investigate. I got up and walked over to my bedroom door and stealthily opened it a crack. There was my tall handsome athletic father walking slowly down the hallway as if in a trance. His eyes were open, but he was unseeing.

My mother came out of their bedroom in her silky lacey nightgown and followed silently close behind him. When daddy got to the top of the staircase, my mother touched his arm. Slowly he turned and gazed through her. His hand came up and began stroking the fabric of her nightgown. Then when he had tightly clutched the silky material, my mother began to back down the hall to their bedroom. He followed her, not seeming to know where he was going or what he was doing. Then my mother would close the bedroom door, and I would get back into my own bed wondering what I had just witnessed.

I guess I was about ten years old, when my mother took me aside one day to explain everything to me.

"If you ever get up at night to go to the bathroom, and you see your father in the hall, you must be very quiet. Don't say a word."

"Why not?" I questioned.

"Daddy has a medical condition," she explained. "Somnambulism. Sleepwalking. He walks in his sleep."

"He walks in his sleep?" I laughed. "That's silly. You can't walk in your sleep."

"Some people walk in their sleep," mommy explained. "And you must be very, very careful not to wake them. It could be very dangerous. They could have a heart attack and die. And we don't want daddy to die, do we?"

"No," I agreed. I certainly did not want my daddy to die. My heart fluttered inside my chest. I felt fear. I loved my daddy so much. I had to be very careful never to wake him.

"So remember," mommy emphasized. If you ever see daddy walking in his sleep, remember. Don't wake daddy. Promise me?"

"I promise," I said, and crossed my heart.

In those days, mommy and daddy loved each other so much. Every day was like Christmas or a birthday. He was always bringing home presents for mommy. Beautiful packages. But it's funny. He always bought the same thing. Never flowers or candy. Never jewelry. Never perfume. Mommy would open the box and pretend to be surprised. "What a beautiful nightgown." She would lift the negligee and hold it in front of her. "Oh, Lance. Such a beautiful nightgown," she would always say.

"I can't wait to see it on you," he would always say. Then he would start feeling the fabric. He really loved nightgowns.

"Look, Kenny," Mommy would say to me. "Isn't this a beautiful nightgown daddy bought mommy?"

"Yes," I would answer.

"Come over here, Kenny," Daddy would say. "Feel mommy's nightgown." I would start running my fingers over it. "Isn't that silky. Doesn't that feel nice?" Daddy would ask me.

"Yes," I would agree. It felt nice, all right, but not that great.

As the years went on, however, I could see that my mother was tiring. Every night she would be up walking the halls with him. Making sure he didn't wake up, didn't bump into a wall, didn't fall down the stairs. Every night she would touch daddy's arm, and he would latch on to her nightgown, and blindly follow her as she led him back into their bedroom and closed the door.

"I'm so tired," mommy would complain to me. "I haven't had a decent night's sleep in years. Every night I have to watch your father, and stay with him to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. I wish I could have a vacation. I need a vacation so badly."

"Mommy. Take a vacation," I said. I was eighteen now. A young man. I felt that I could handle things.

"No. No. That wouldn't work," she said.

"Why not?" I was so naive.

"Well, even though your father is asleep, he has a certain routine he follows."

"I could follow it. Just tell me what to do," I said.

"No you couldn't follow it," she said. "Don't ask me to explain. Your father likes to know that I'm near him, even in his sleep." But I could see that she was mulling over what I had suggested.

"Oh," I said, thinking that daddy could really get along on his own for a couple of weeks as long as I was there to make sure he didn't fall down the stairs.

"Also," mommy continued. "Your bedroom is down the hall. How would you even know when he was up walking?"

I didn't know the answer to that one. It was a hard one. Of course I had been waking up for years just as he started his promenade. I had seen this spectacle almost every night for most of my life. But suppose I didn't wake up at just the right time one night? Suppose daddy got to the top of the stairs and fell down the long flight, and was killed? But mommy looked so tired. She really needed a break. I thought and I thought Suddenly I got this insane idea. "I could tie bells around his ankle," I suggested.

"I could tie bells around his ankle," I repeated. It was such a great idea. I was really excited with my own brilliance. "Then when daddy got up and started walking I would hear the jingling, and I would wake up and help him back to bed."

"You would wake up?" She asked. It was an interesting idea. If I could be trusted to make sure daddy stayed safe.....she might just consider a trip to Florida. To lie on the beach all day. To sleep all night. Fast asleep all night long. I could see her pondering the idea. It was appealing.

"I would definitely wake up," I promised. "Don't worry. I'll make sure nothing happens to daddy. Get on the Internet. Book a flight. Book a hotel. Everything will be fine."

Mommy weighed the pros and cons and made a decision. She smiled at me gratefully. She told daddy of our plan. He agreed to wear a circle of bells around his ankle when he went to sleep. He even went out and bought them. He knew mommy was tired and needed a rest. He felt guilty that she had had to watch him all these years every night. But what could he do? He was a sleepwalker and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Don't worry, honey," he said to mommy. "Kenny here will handle everything just fine. You'll watch out for me. Won't you, son?"

"I sure will, dad," I swore. "I'll take real good care of you."

"Oh I love you guys," my mom said. She hugged first my father, then me, as she started to cry.

"Just have a great vacation," my father told her.

We drove her to the airport and kissed her good-bye as she went through security. We waved and waved. She turned around and blew kisses. I could see she was crying. My father and I drove home. He put the car in the garage and went into the living room to watch television. I went into the kitchen and began to reheat the dinner mommy had left for us in the refrigerator. Macaroni and cheese.

After dinner we watched more television. Daddy lay on the couch, and I stretched out on the floor in front of the couch. Every once in a while he would reach down and tousle my hair affectionately. At around eleven o'clock we climbed the stairs and got ready for bed. Daddy stripped down to his white jockeys. And I went to my own room and donned my striped pajamas.

From down the hall, I could hear jingle, jingle, jingle. Daddy was putting on his bells. I walked down to his room and peeked in the door. Daddy smiled at me and waved his foot in the air. Jingle, jingle, jingle. Jingle, jingle, jingle. We both laughed. Everything was going to be just fine.

I went back to my room and climbed under the covers, and quickly fell asleep. The next thing I knew, my eyes opened, and I could hear a noise down the hall. Behind his bedroom door. Jingle, jingle, jingle. Jingle, jingle, jingle. Something was afoot. It was daddy.

The jingle was getting faster and louder. It was nearing his bedroom door. It was still a little muffled, but then it wasn't. He had opened his bedroom door. Jingle, jingle, jingle. Jingle, jingle, jingle. He was coming down the hall. He was getting close to my bedroom. Quickly I got up and opened my bedroom door. There he was in his tight bulging jockeys, mechanically marching down the hall, open-eyed, but unseeing.

As he passed me, I quietly fell in step behind him. He was getting closer and closer to the top of the stairs. That was dangerous. If he ever fell down the stairs..... Well, between the fall, and suddenly waking up and realizing you're falling. That would be the end. My heart was pounding in my chest. I noticed my fathers beautiful round white-cotton covered buns, but I couldn't concentrate on that. I had to make sure he didn't wake up. I had to make sure he didn't fall down the stairs. Mommy was in Florida on vacation. This was now my job. I had volunteered.

Jingle, jingle, jingle. Jingle, jingle, jingle. He was so close to the top of the staircase. Gently I reached out and laid a single finger on his arm. He seemed to respond to it. Blindly he turned and faced me. I looked down and glanced at his impressive white-cotton covered cock, bulging, bulging. Quickly I raised my eyes to his. His eyes were staring blankly. He didn't even see me.

His hand reached out and started clawing at my pajamas. I backed up to get further from the stairs. He followed me. He kept fingering my pajamas. He was getting very upset. I didn't know why. I only knew I had to get him back to bed. As he held on to my pajamas, I began backstepping toward his bedroom. He followed me. Both hands now were fitfully pulling on my nightclothes. His face was a mass of confusion and distress. Then I realized. He was used to feeling mommy's soft, silky, lacy nightgown, and here I was in my rough cotton-polyester blend PJ's.

There was nothing I could do about that now. I just kept backstepping toward his bedroom and he mechanically followed me, holding onto my garment. Inside the bedroom, I maneuvered myself onto the bed, and he tumbled down beside me, still clutching my night clothing.

Finally, thank-goodness, he seemed to be calming down. He wasn't letting go of me though. I figured I would have to spend the night on mommy's side of the bed. I faced the left wall, and daddy lay behind me, his cheek against my hair. I could feel his whole body lined up along mine. No. I couldn't think about that now. Time to get some sleep.

I finally started to doze off, and daddy had calmed down. His breathing had gotten very regular. Then suddenly it wasn't regular. My eyes snapped open. I felt a blinding pain in my crotch. My pajamas were crushing my balls. What was going on???

Then I realized. Daddy's hands were on the seat of my pajama bottoms and he was pulling up. Pulling up hard. The pajama bottoms were crushing my balls. I wanted to scream, but I didn't dare. I didn't dare wake daddy. What was he doing? I reached my own hands down and tried to pull my pajamas bottoms down. Away from my groin. Oh, the pain. In his sleep, he thought he was lifting mommy's nightgown.

Daddy was pulling up. I was pulling down. Suddenly his grip loosened and I won. My pajama bottoms slipped off my bottom and below my rear. Now I felt the heat of daddy's cotton-clad bulge against my naked rump. He was stroking his swelling tumescence against me. Then his hands came down, and he began stroking my exposed flesh. I started to get goose bumps. His breathing calmed again as he kneaded my cheeks. I felt his hot even breath on my neck. Then he exhaled a little, and I heard jingle, jingle, jingle. He was moving. His hands left my bottom. I felt him behind me lowering his tight white jockey shorts.

Now his tumescence was really swollen. It was sticking straight out between us, round and fat and probably about ten inches long. My god. I was only six. My father was more like ten. And twice as thick. It was a donkey dick.

He started pressing it into the crack between my virgin cheeks. It came to an abrupt halt at my dry asshole. He started to press. Oh, no. Oh, my god. He would kill me. I had to wake him. No. I couldn't wake him. I was frantic. I reached my hand behind me and grabbed his dick. I circled it with my palm and fingers. In his sleep, he seemed to accept that my wrapped hand was a cunt. He started fucking my hand, which I kept firmly in place in front of my asshole. He was not getting into my asshole. He could fuck my hand. That would be okay, I decided.

But it wasn't going well. His cock was not sliding smoothly in my grip. I could tell by his breathing that he was not happy. I quickly lifted my hand to my mouth and licked it all over. I spit copious amounts of saliva into my palm, and quickly reached my hand around and encircled his dick again. This was better. His hard stiff dick was sliding in and out of my hand. His breathing calmed and I felt his lips and tongue on my neck. As he pressed in and out of my hand, his legs moved and the bells around his ankle went jingle, jingle, jingle. Jingle, jingle, jingle.

His breathing was getting thready, and now he was nipping my neck. I would have a black and blue mark. His powerful ass slammed forward, and his cock slipped through my fingers and lodged against my virgin asshole. Just then his cock swelled and he shot his thick cream right between my cheeks, where it absolutely covered my asshole. I had hot cum all over my hand as well.

After that daddy seemed to fall into a deeper sleep. I figured I was safe for the night and dozed off a little myself. Toward morning I woke up and assessed the situation.

It would not be good if daddy woke up and realized what had happened the night before. He would feel so guilty. He would feel like some kind of awful pervert. And he had no idea what he had done in his sleep. I had to protect him. I got up on tippy toes and went to the bathroom where I wet a wad of toilet paper. I sneaked over to the bed and stealthily cleaned him up. I wiped away all the traces of cum, and gently pulled his jockeys back up over his cock and balls. I tucked him in and smoothed out the blankets. Then I tiptoed to my own bedroom and got back into my own bed.

This was something I hadn't counted on. How was I to handle this? I couldn't fall back to sleep. I lay there in the early morning darkness devising a plan.

The next day while daddy was at work, I drove out to Highway 72 where there was a porn film theatre and sex shop. I made a couple of purchases in the sex shop, and then I stopped off at the grocery store for some canned goods before returning home.

I did a few necessary things around the house, like moving some of mommy's nightgowns from my parents' closet to mine, before opening the can of corned beef hash and the can of baked beans I had bought for our dinner.

I fried the hash and heated the beans after daddy got home. I called him from the TV into the dining room, and we had our dinner. Daddy made a big fuss over my cooking abilities.

"Oh, daddy," I protested. "They're just cans."

"But they're delicious," daddy persisted. "I couldn't do this. If you weren't here, I'd have to go down to the diner. " He reached across the table and gave my cheek a pinch. I think I blushed a little. I made up my mind that tomorrow night, I would prepare some intricate recipes for daddy's dinner. If he liked the hash and beans so much, who knew what I might come up with.

We watched television until around eleven o'clock. The same as we had the night before. Daddy's hand lazily hung off the couch, and his fingers lazily combed through my hair.

From my bedroom, finally I heard the jingle, jingle, jingle. Daddy had attached his tinkly little anklet of bells. Now I had to get ready. I couldn't let myself be unprepared the way I had been the night before.

I went into the bathroom and gave myself several clear water douches. I had bought a little plastic disposable enema, but I emptied the contents and just kept filling it with clear warm water, which I shot up into me and expelled, until I was sure I was very clean.

Then I went back into my bedroom and shut the door. I opened the bag from the sex shop. I removed a large plastic dildo shaped like a penis. I had also bought a big jar of something called Lube-Ricious. I coated the dildo with the Lube-Ricious, and then I dipped my fingers in the jar and covered them with the clear slidy gel. I lay back on my bed and raised my legs, bringing my coated hand around to my bottom.

I began to rub the Lube-Ricious all around my anal opening, and then I began to feed my fingers inside. In and out. In and out. Up and down. Up and down. Right to left. Left to right. Yes. I was opening a little.

I took the Lube-Ricious coated plastic penis and inserted it between my asscheeks. Gentle I flicked it all around the hole, and ever so easily I pressed a little. I felt my assflesh separating around it. It was going in. Yes a little. Now a little more. No. It was stopping. It felt dry again.

I took it out and coated it with more Lube-Ricious. I stuck it back inside my ass, and it moved a little further in. Then it felt dry again. I recoated it and reinserted it. Good gracious. At this rate I would run out of lube before I knew it. Three was the magic number. This time it slipped all the way in. I moved it in. I moved it out. I moved it up. I moved it down. I moved it right. I moved it left. I worked on my ass for almost a half hour. I kept having to add more Lube-Ricious. But my hole was getting bigger. Bigger and wider and more spacious. Finally I withdrew the plastic penis. I went to the closet and took out the beautiful lacey pink nightgown that daddy had bought mommy last Christmas. It really was stunning. I slipped it over my head, and smoothed it out over my body. No rough cotton-acetate pajamas to upset daddy tonight. Tonight I was all decked out in a beautiful satiny lacey gown. Daddy's sleeping fingers would approve when they touched this.

I climbed under the covers and drifted off to sleep. Whatever might happen, I was prepared.

I don't know how long I was asleep, but I heard the cheery bell sounds tinkling, and I opened my eyes. Daddy was on the move again. Before getting out of bed, I coated the dildo with Lube again, and raised my nightgown. It slid easily up my ass now. To make sure, I coated it and inserted it two more times, to make sure my rectum was totally slippery. "That ought to do it," I thought.

I heard daddy's bedroom door open and the jingle, jingle, jingle started moving down the hall toward me. I walked to the door of the bedroom and opened the door. Daddy passed me unseeingly and began heading toward the dangerous staircase. Really. This was ridiculous. Given daddy's condition we should have long ago moved to a one-story house, so there would be no danger of daddy tumbling down the stairs.

When daddy got to the top of the stairs, I decided enough was enough. I gently touched his arm. He stopped. He turned toward me. He looked right through me. He grabbed my nightgown and started fingering it. Running his palms over it. He was not upset tonight. I had been right. He wanted to feel the nightgown.

I stepped back. Daddy stepped forward, following me. Again I backstepped down the hall all the way to his bedroom, and we sat down on the edge of the bed, side by side. Daddy was staring at the dresser across the room, but not seeing it. He kept playing with my nightgown. I eased him back, until we were both lying on the bed. Side by side. Just as we had been the night before.

He spooned into me and rubbed his covered protrusion against my bottom again. He was stroking the shiny material. Then I felt my gown lifting. This time there was nothing to catch in my crotch and castrate me. The nightgown lifted easily, and soon my naked asscheeks were lying against daddy's bulky groin. I heard bells as I felt daddy struggling around, and lifting his bottom. I reached back with my hand. Just as I had thought. His large stiff hammer was now free of the confining jockeys.