Father of the Bride: Trish

Trish

Recuperation

God, I hadn't been this hungover since my thirties. And I hadn't even had that much to drink. Well, sure, a couple extra drinks at home after the whole 'Trish' incident. But still. Getting old sucked.

The sun was up, but the room still spun whenever I moved my head. The edges blurred like I was wearing someone else's glasses.

I groaned as I rolled over, the feeling of a million cotton balls in my mouth. What I wouldn't have given for a glass of water. Sadly, past me hadn't been considerate enough to put one on the nightstand.

Prick.

I struggled to free my legs from the sheets that had wrapped around them like a pissed off octopus, falling to the floor with a thud. I managed to kick the sheets off and stumbled my way to the bathroom. I wanted to dunk my head in the sink, but I couldn't possibly fit, so I settled for splashing myself with cold water and sucking up what I could.

I was getting too old for this shit.

"Daddy? Are you okay?" Amanda's voice cut through the fluff stuffing my head. "Did you fall?"

"Ugh, no baby, ugh, I'm fine." My stomach churned like it was trying to twist itself upside down. "Just, ugh, just washing up."

"Dad—" She stopped at the bathroom door.

"Huh?" I blinked at her, closing one eye to better focus on her. Her face seemed awfully red, and her eyes were glued to something. "Oh shit, sorry baby."

I grabbed the closest thing I could reach, which was a tiny hand cloth and slapped it over my dangling dick. I wasn't sure how well I had succeeded in hiding it, as she kept staring.

"Ah, I may have been a little tipsy last night and foregone clothing for bed. Um, what's up?"

"I... maybe... I was... never mind."

Amanda fled the bedroom. The door slammed shut, though it might only have seemed that way due to my pounding headache.

Twenty minutes later I finally left the bedroom, dressed in a loose tee and some jeans, grumbling occasionally as I braced myself against the wall with one hand.

Ugh. Never again.

"Good morning, daddy."

A far too chirpy Trish pranced up in her booty shorts and tiny shirt and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for taking care of me last night. I guess I had a bit too much to drink, huh?"

"Uh, yeah, um, you should probably be more conscious of that. I'm not trying to police you, but you should make sure you keep safe. Okay?"

She cocked her head and smiled, neither confirming nor denying my request.

I cleared my throat with a phlegmy cough. "How, uh, how much do you remember?"

She posed exaggeratedly, her finger on her chin as she wobbled her head in thought, her hips swaying as she shifted her weight back and forth between her legs. "I don't know, forty percent?"

"What?"

"Like, I remember most of the competition. The after party, too. I remember you taking care of me. You were very gentle with me." She winked and continued, "and then you were carrying me into the house."

I let out a sigh of relief. That would have been messy to try and talk my way out of.

"Oh! And sucking you off. That was fun, daddy. We should do it again."

She gave me another kiss on the cheek and bounced her way down the hall, the bottoms of her butt cheeks peeking from below her shorts.

I groaned as I rubbed my eyes.

I just wouldn't make a big deal out of it. She was drunk and was just looking to express herself. That sounded vaguely plausible.

The whiff of bacon and eggs wafting from the kitchen was both mouth-watering and stomach-churning at the same time. I just hoped that I could keep it down, because I really needed something to soak up the last of the booze in there.

Coming down the stairs I found Amanda serving up two plates while Trish stood at the island, resting her elbows on the counter, and wiggling her butt to the tune of some unknown melody.

"Hi, daddy," Amanda greeted, her face still a bit red. "I made some breakfast for you."

"Thanks, pumpkin." I kissed her head and sat beside her. After taking the first bite, my stomach already began to settle.

"You came back late, daddy."

"Yeah, uh, the party was still going when I left."

"Oh, it was awesome," Trish added, her face lighting up at the mention. "I even won a weekend trip to the beach."

"What? I didn't know there were going to be prizes," Amanda pouted. "Daddy, it's unfair. I'm almost eighteen. I could have competed."

A shiver ran down my spine imagining my sweet Amanda on stage about to drain the cup.

"Oh, I'm sure you'd have been real good at it," Trish said with a grin. "The crowd would have loved watching you chug it down."

"Chug what down?"

"Nothing, pumpkin."

"Is that how you won?"

"Well, I got beat out by experience, but I still got second place." Trish's eyes gleamed as she smirked. "You can come too. You'll love it. It's over at Steven's parents' place. You know... the nudist community."

Amanda's face grew redder. "Th... that's okay. Never mind."

Trish got behind Amanda and wrapped her arms around her, but instead of a hug, she placed her palms under Amanda's ponderous breasts and squeezed them suggestively.

"What's the matter? Don't you want to show these off? I bet the guys would be drooling over you."

Amanda squawked indignantly and pushed Trish's hands away. "No! I'm not like you! I'm not going to show it off!"

Trish laughed as she stepped back. "Don't be so uptight. I'm sure daddy wouldn't mind. Doesn't she have great tits, daddy?"

"Why am I involved in this conversation?"

"Come on, daddy. Whose tits are nicer? I bet you like mine more." Trish arched her back, her nipples pressing hard against the thin material separating us. "Go on, daddy. Tell me you don't love them."

"Oh my god!" Amanda cried out, standing up and shoving Trish back. "Can you not be a slut for five minutes?"

"Pumpkin," I admonished. "Don't call your sister that."

"It's okay, daddy," Trish said with a wink. She turned and walked from the room, her hips swaying emphatically as she left. She turned around and gave me a sultry look. "I know what I am, daddy."

"Daddy?! Tell her to stop being such a slut around you!"

"Pumpkin, please. I have such a hangover. Can't we just eat breakfast and not get into it?"

Amanda glowered at me and sat again, refusing to look at me while she ate.

I just sighed.

Were other families like this?

***

It was late in the afternoon when there was a knock on the front door. Trish was off with God knew who and Amanda was on her computer playing something with her friends.

At least I had one girl I didn't have to worry about.

I cracked the door only to find Layla standing there holding a pie. She gave me a dazzling smile, looking no worse for wear following the all-night party. The snug top and low jeans looked great on her, not that anything she wore could possibly make her look anything less than a ten.

"Hi mister Michael. I didn't see you leave last night. I hope you had a good time."

"Ah, yeah, sorry, I was in a bit of a hurry."

"Right, had to take Trish to bed," she said playfully. "She certainly needed some attention from her daddy."

I cleared my throat. "Something like that. She needed to sleep it off. But what brings you by?"

She presented the fresh pie. "I came here to give you my pie. Would you like to taste it?"

My dick twitched.

She was doing this on purpose.

"Ah, thanks."

She stepped closer as I took it, her perfume tickling my nose.

"It's very hot, but I think you'll love it. You could have it right now if you like."

"Uh, are we still talking about the pie?"

Her hand caressed my groin, her breath hot in my ear.

"Of course not, silly. I'm talking about my pussy. I promised Jaime I'd take care of you while she's gone. But honestly? I was going to fuck you anyway."

I groaned as she teased me to hardness at our door.

"Why don't you bring me in, mister Michael? Or did you want me to suck you off right here? Daddy might see, but wouldn't that be hot? The whole neighborhood watching while you throat fuck me and blast your cum into my belly."

Her fingers started to play along my zipper.

Oh shit. She actually would do it.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her in, closing the door behind us as she pouted.

"Aw, I was getting so wet thinking you'd fuck me in front of everyone. Or would you prefer I wear a big skirt like Jaime? You could cum in me all you want, and no one would know."

I glanced upstairs to make sure Amanda wasn't around before shushing her. "Quiet, Amanda is here."

I knew I was in trouble at how her eyes glinted when I said that.

Layla began speaking a bit louder than necessary, projecting her voice toward the stairs. "Oh? Sweet little Amanda? Wouldn't it be terrible if she found you with your cock down my throat? Or would you prefer my ass? That way I can scream as I cum."

I grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hall as she grew louder. I shoved her into the tiny office space that we only used as storage, shutting the door, and locking it behind me.

By the time I turned back to her she was already bent over the tiny surveyor's desk, her jeans at her knees and her hands spreading her cheeks wide apart, showing off her winking rosebud and glistening lips.

"Oh, mister Michael, you're so rough with me. Don't worry, I like it."

I wasn't sure what had happened to the pie I'd been holding, and honestly, I didn't care anymore. I'd gotten more pussy in the last week than I had in most of my life, and I was going to ride that gravy train until it derailed.

I grabbed her hips and buried my face in her ass, my tongue lapping at her wet pussy like I hadn't had water in days. Her legs shivered as I lapped hungrily at her. The flat of my tongue lashed her with broad strokes digging into her folds and teasing her hole with the tip. I flicked her clit, drawing small circles around it before giving her broad licks again. I planted my lips against her moist lips and sucked gently on them while my finger rubbed her hard nub.

I adjusted my head, sinking to my knees so that I could suck on her clit and feed two fingers into her waiting hole. They quickly became wet as I dipped them in with small motions. Her walls pressed down on my fingers as the first knuckles spread her open, juices gathering and running down my fingers.

Layla moaned wantonly as I sucked and fingered her. Her voice grew louder, changing into lusty cries.

I adjusted again, my fingers still pistoning into her sopping hole. My tongue darted out, circling her rosebud. She gave a startled cry. I grinned as I added pressure, the tip of my tongue playing over that tight knot. She gasped and spread her cheeks wider, letting my tongue press past her tight ring and into her ass. Her legs quaked and she pushed her hips back against me, my lips locking onto her backside as my fingers sped up.

"Oh fuck! That's so much better than daddy! Eat my ass! Fuck!"

I lost myself in a frenzy of driving my tongue into her hole while jamming a third finger into her convulsing pussy. She cried out as she splashed me, her pussy clenching tightly over my fingers and her ring trying to trap my tongue in her ass.

I curled my fingers individually. She blasted me with another torrent, soaking my shirt. Strangled cries were all I heard. Her legs twitched until they finally buckled, dropping her full weight onto the rickety desk.

"Oh god! Fuck me! Mister Michael! Fuck me now!"

She didn't need to ask twice.

I had barely positioned my cock at her entrance before she pushed back, swallowing half my length in a single motion. Her knuckles turned white as she grabbed the edges of the wobbling desk, moaning as she squirmed around me.

"Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck! FUCK!"

I clapped my hand over her mouth as she grew louder. I drove into her, burying the rest of myself in that snug hole. Muffled screams arose as I began hammering her. I slapped the other hand over her mouth and rammed in as hard as I could, pulling her back onto my cock. The desk shook dangerously, threatening to collapse as it swayed with the impacts.

Dull footsteps thumped overhead as Layla squealed harder. I squeezed a hand over her throat to keep her quiet as the footsteps headed for the stairs. Layla bucked against me. Her pussy clenched around me as she soaked my pants. I grunted as I unloaded inside her. She twitched as I throbbed, grinding her hips against me.

"Daddy? Is that you?" Amanda called down the hallway. "Are you moving something?"

"Uh, just a moment!"

I ground my cock hard into Layla again, feeling the blissful final pulses of cum coursing through me. I stepped back quickly as the footsteps approached the door. Layla's legs finally gave out. She fell to the floor, knocking over some boxes and gasping for air.

"Are you okay?" Amanda called, worry in her voice. "Did you fall?"

"Um, yeah, just a sec. Let me move this stuff."

Layla looked up at me, her eyelids partially hooded, her mouth agape as she breathed heavily.

"Can I come in?" The handle jiggled.

"No! No, I dropped—. Ah!"

I gave a cry as Layla grabbed my hips and jammed my slowly softening cock in her mouth. Her tongue ran over it as she expertly sucked, bobbing quickly, and coaxing me back to life.

"Daddy?"

"It's... it's fine. The stuff fell and blocked the door. Ugh, I got it. Hah! Don't worry."

I grasped the back of Layla's head as she sucked, my newly energized cock sliding far back into her tight embrace.

"Okay. Um, daddy?"

"Yeah, pumpkin?"

"I... I love you."

I suppressed a grunt as the head of my cock slipped past Layla's throat barrier. The best part was that her eyes never wavered as she looked up at me. She ground her lips against my base and licked my balls, all while those beautiful brown eyes stared up at me.

"I love you too, pumpkin."

"And, you don't have to worry about me."

I began to thrust into Layla's abused mouth, my cock breaching that barrier each time. She barely made a sound. She took her hands from my waist and held them behind her back.

God, that look in her eyes. She'd let me do anything to her.

"I... I won't be like Jaime. Or Trish. I know you love them. I love them too. But I'm not like that. I'm your good girl. I always will be."

I grunted as I held Layla's head down. My balls twitched and I sprayed what I had left down her throat. They ached pleasantly, like I was trying to pump the last out of an empty tank and the pressure was slowly caving them in. I groaned as her throat squeezed rhythmically around me, sucking it all down.

"Ugh, good. Good girl. Ng. Daddy's proud of you."

I shuddered as Layla stared up at me, her tongue lapping at my balls.

What a good girl.

"Thank you, daddy," Amanda said from the other side of the door as the last of my cum dribbled down Layla's throat. "Let me know if you need anything, daddy."

"Uh-huh. Sure thing, pumpkin. Love you."

"I love you."

Her footsteps receded and Layla slowly pulled off my cock with a pop. She ran a finger along her lips, putting it in her mouth and sucking on it. She smiled at me.

"Thank you, daddy," she said in a sing-song melody.

"Fucking hell."

***

Trish pranced down the stairs later that evening in six-inch heels and a mini-dress that barely reached mid-thigh. Her blonde hair flowed freely as she whirled by me, stopping for just a moment to give me a kiss to the lips before bolting out the door. She rushed out into the night sky toward the waiting car, practically diving into the back seat before it peeled out of the driveway.

God, how did Trish still have energy after last night? Was it drugs? Cause, if so, I needed to get my hands on some.

I was definitely too old for this. Most of the day had been a fog, the Tylenol only helping so much. And while Layla's insane fuck session had been mind-blowing, it certainly hadn't refilled my energy reserves. Even after a quick nap I still felt like someone had left a roll of gauze in my skull.

I eventually had to call it quits as I faded in and out while watching some animated movie with Amanda. Something something land of something or another. Amanda hadn't bought my excuse of me resting my eyes. It probably hadn't helped that my head had hung limply to one side and I'd drooled on her.

I willed myself to take a shower before bed. At minimum, I really needed to get the smell of Layla's pussy off me. I managed to get to the bed and pass out as soon as my head hit the pillow, not even having time to put on clothes or pull up the covers.

*Creak*

"Mmrg?"

I was vaguely aware of the door opening. I drifted back to sleep as something warm settled next to me.

***

I was woken to a sudden and irate scream.

"Daddy!"

My eyes shot open at the yell. I blinked a few times, my vision resolving to showcase an angry Amanda, her face scrunched and burning red, standing by the open bedroom door. I blinked again, realizing that from my point of view, most of my view was taken up by my raging morning wood.

Huh, that hadn't happened in a while.

Amanada stalked off and slammed her door shut.

"Mrmph. Why's she so loud in the mornings?"

I glanced over to who had spoken, finding Trish's messy blonde hair planted firmly in the nook of my shoulder, her bare tits resting on my chest, and her fingers wrapped lightly around my cock.

I blinked a few more times, squinting my eyes and then rubbing them. She shifted and rubbed her face into my chest, groaning at having been disturbed. Her hand seemed to be on autopilot, slowly squeezing the base of my cock and stroking it.

"Trish?" I asked, my voice climbing as reality came back into focus. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Shhh, daddy," she groaned. "Not so loud."

I rolled her off me, having to pry her fingers off my dick before she'd let go.

"Why are you in my bed?!"

She groaned again, turning away from me, showing off her perfect little butt with two dimples on her lower back. She threw an arm over her head, shielding her eyes from the sunlight seeping in through the curtains.

"Dave, or Daniel, or whatever his name is, threw up last night. I wasn't going to sleep next to him, so I came in here."

"Why naked?!"

"You didn't seem to mind last night. Kept cuddling into me. Hoped you'd try and sleep fuck me."

I got up and grabbed the crumpled towel from the floor where I'd dropped it last night. It was still a bit moist. I wrapped it around my waist and stood up, stalking to the bathroom.

"Next time, use Jaime's room."

She grunted something and wrapped herself in the blankets.

Ten minutes later I rapped my knuckles gently on Amanda's door, now fully clothed and having chased Trish out of my bed.

"Pumpkin? Can I open the door?"

Silence.

I knocked again.

"Sweety? It's not what it looked like. Apparently, her new... friend... got sick and she didn't want to sleep with him anymore."

Footsteps approached the door, pulling it open and revealing a puffy-eyed Amanda.

"And why were you naked?" she demanded.

"Okay, pumpkin, calm down. I fell asleep right after my shower. You saw me falling asleep multiple times during the movie."

"And her? Why was she naked?"

"I... don't really know. Maybe she just sleeps like that?"

Really killing it here.

"Did you like it?" Amanda was near tears again. "Her holding your... thing..."

"No!"

"Then why was it big? Don't lie!"

"Okay, yes, but that's just a normal response. She's just got some... particular... habits when she sleeps. I guess."

"Cause she's a slut!" Amanda slammed the door in my face again. The lock clicked loudly as she scampered away. I could hear her crying again.

I sighed heavily and glared at the young man attempting to not draw attention as he tiptoed away. At least he had pants on. Which was more than Trish who pranced after him in the tiniest thong I'd ever seen and a shirt she had probably worn when she was six.