Part 1
On her last trip home Sarah thought that her Dad had seemed a bit down and somewhat broody. She resolved to give him a treat to take his mind off his sad circumstances. Michael is 52 now. His wife died when he was 47. His daughter Sarah, conscious of the impending and significant fifth anniversary of her Mother’s death arranged this trip for Michael as a surprise. Michael had always wanted to visit Tenerife, so Sarah booked them a two-week stay in an apartment near the beach.
Sarah is 26 she is a postgraduate student at Bristol University, where she is undertaking a PhD in law. She is very capable and is expected to do well. However, at this stage she has little money so her surprise trip for Dad has had to be on a bit of a shoestring budget. ‘Never mind, though,’ she thinks, ‘we’ll have a great time anyway.’
The holiday was a ‘cheap and cheerful’ package deal. At the airport they were met by a representative from the travel firm and herded onto a coach with the other holidaymakers. They were almost the last to be dropped off as Sarah had deliberately chosen a location far from the main centres. They mostly catered for the young club crowd and Sarah knew her dad would hate being near to that.
They were shown into the apartment at almost 2 am. They were both very tired and didn’t really listen to the young bubbly representative as she explained the facilities. ‘We’ll figure it out ourselves,’ Sarah thought to herself. At last the Representative left them alone and they started to get ready for bed. Then realisation dawned. The apartment had one bedroom with two beds. The beds were a good size but, more to the point, they were no more than two feet apart.
Sarah and her Dad exchanged a glance then both smiled and she said ‘Oops. Sorry, Dad. I never thought to check the detailed sleeping arrangements.’
‘Never mind, love. We can sort something out tomorrow. I just need to get to sleep now.’
Sarah hugged her Dad and agreed that would be best. And apologising again she made her way to the bathroom to change into the cotton shorts and vest top that served as her pyjamas. When she emerged Michael made his way into the bathroom and changed for bed too. He re-appeared wearing just boxer shorts. Sarah looked at him in surprise and seeing her look Michael explained ‘I don’t have PJs. Didn’t think it would be necessary here. Anyway, I don’t normally wear anything, so think yourself lucky,’ he laughed.
‘Gawd, doesn’t ‘bare’ thinking of,’ Sarah mocked in return.
They both giggled at this as they said goodnight and turned off the light. But Sarah found herself thinking, as she drifted off to sleep, that the old man still looked good. Still fit and trim looking.
Father and daughter slept soundly that night and didn’t wake until gone 11 the following morning. They had a lazy day just stocking-up on a few essentials at the local supermarket (they planned to eat out), and getting the lay of the land. In the afternoon they sunbathed on the beach and then found a little bar at sunset to watch the twilight. Their conversation was light and joking and Sarah was very happy to see her Dad laugh. He did seem in altogether different spirits from her last visit with him.
For his part Michael had enjoyed the day. He loved spending time with his daughter. She reminded him a lot of his wife. He liked that. It didn’t make him at all sad to remember her. On the contrary seeing his vibrant and lovely daughter laugh and talk so animatedly reminded him of the love he had enjoyed with Ruth.
They made their way back to the apartment to get ready for the evening out. Earlier that day they had decided that there was really no point in trying to re-organise the sleeping arrangements; and that they would make do with a little courtesy and discretion.
They have a lovely meal and a few drinks and got back around midnight. They had another night-cap and sat on the balcony talking until around 1. They then went to bed.
Sarah awoke with a start. It couldn’t have been more than an hour later, if even that. What was that noise? She could hear a rhythmic rasping and rustling sound. Looking around the room she thought it emanated from the side. From her Dad’s bed. Peering across she could see his profile in bed, silhouetted against the moonlit window. The sheet was drawn up over him but there was definitely movement under it.
Slowly realisation dawns on Sarah. Her Dad is wanking. Right here beside her, her father is playing with his (presumably) hard cock. Sarah is shocked but then thinks that he must be desperate. To her knowledge he hasn’t had a woman since Mum, and that must have been at least five to six years ago. She tries to ignore it. To respect his privacy. But it is impossible to shut it out. She can’t help but start to wonder what he is thinking. Presumably he is imagining some fantasy scene. Is it just straight sex, or is the old man a bit kinky? After some time she remarks to herself that it has gone on for a while. He must have some stamina. The rhythm is constant. She starts to try to picture his cock. Sarah imagines her father making love to some woman. Bearing down on her, driving into her, hard and fast. She pictures her mother: is that who is thinking of now? Then she imagines another woman, younger. She is aware of her own arousal. She feels the heat in her pussy. She is tempted to touch herself but she is afraid to make a move or make any noise.
The movement suddenly stops. Sarah hears her dad gasp softly, then sigh in a long breath. ‘My God,’ she thinks ‘He’s cumming. Right now beside me my Father is having an orgasm, spurting his spunk… well, God knows where.’ She smiles as she thinks of where in his fantasy his spunk might be being delivered. She drifts off to sleep with that thought swirling around her head.
The next day is similar to the first. Beach relaxation. Food, drink and home for a chat and a nightcap. They both enjoy the simplicity of the routine and the closeness of the time they are sharing. Sarah finds herself thinking about the sexual man she realises her father is. A real man with a sex drive and needs. Far from being disgusted at what she had witnessed she feels affection and empathy for him. She makes a mental note to find a way to broach the subject of him finding a new partner. She is worried that he may be holding back, denying his needs, because he expects that she and her brother would expect him to remain true to their dead Mother. She wants him to know that he can move on, with their blessing.
In bed later Sarah listens for any sign of activity but there is none. She drifts off to sleep only to awaken again to the now familiar sounds from her Dad’s bed. ‘Again,’ she thinks, ‘The man is insatiable!’ she smiles to herself and listens quietly until she hears the sighing sound of his climax. It was another marathon wank and Sarah can’t help being impressed ‘The next woman he shags is in for a real treat,’ she marvels. This pattern is repeated again the next night and Sarah resolves to raise the matter with her Dad.
Michael is indeed highly sexed and suffering from frustration. He has not got involved with another woman, just a Sarah suspects. Instead he has become dependant on masturbation to manage his cravings. He finds himself eyeing almost any woman he encounters. These days the slightest flash of thigh or breast is enough to get him quite aroused: and these past few days watching Sarah in her skimpy swimsuits and beach clothes have not helped keep his desires under control. He chastises himself for letching at his own daughter but tries to rationalise it by seeing it simply as the result of her striking resemblance to her Mother. Like Ruth, Sarah has a curvaceous figure. Lovely firm, large orange sized boobs, a slim waist and a perfect pear shaped bum. Her legs too are really sexy with pretty feet. All packed into a dynamite five four frame. He is embarrassed that every night so far he has had to masturbate to get to sleep. Not because of his daughter, he tries to convince himself, simply as a result of the heat and his constant horniness. But he is sure he has been discrete.
So Sarah waits patiently for their nightcap chat, and slowly brings the subject round to Mum and whether he has gone out with anyone since.
‘No, love. It wouldn’t be right. Not yet.’ Michael responds.
‘Yes it would, Dad. It’s time you did. You’re still young and handsome,’ he smiles ‘and you obviously need someone – soon,’ Sarah adds emphatically.
Michael’s smile turns to a quizzical look ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Well, Dad, you’re not exactly subtle are you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know. When you… well… every night so far you’ve been… playing with yourself,’ she closes her eyes as she says it not really wanting to see his reaction but knowing it has to be said.
Michael looks flabbergasted. Sarah can tell he is mortified. ‘You mean you heard.. oh God did you see..’
‘No, Dad, I didn’t see you. But I could hear you and…’
Holding his hand over his eyes he murmurs ‘Oh dear God. Oh no. You must think I’m..’
‘No, Dad,’ Sarah moves to kneel in front of him and takes his hand ‘I don’t think anything other than the fact that you need a partner. You have needs. It’s natural and nothing to be ashamed of. And it’s not like you flaunted yourself. You thought I was asleep. You thought you were being secret.’ She says, adding ‘Albeit not very stealthily,’ They both laugh at this, relieved to dispel the tension, and Sarah kisses him on the cheek and says ‘We will have to get you a lady on this holiday, Dad. I can disappear for a while anytime you need me to.’ She kisses his cheek again and stands up.
‘I guess I’ve been alone for so long I just got used to doing that every night,’ Michael confesses, ‘I am sorry, love, I wouldn’t for the world have done it to embarrass you or .. Are you really Ok about it? I mean it’s pretty sick isn’t it. A grown man, playing with himself in front of his daughter. It’s like something you read about in the gossip papers. About some perv who’s going to prison.’
‘Stop it, Dad. You’re no perv. It’s normal. Everybody does it. I do it.’
‘You do?’
‘Of course, sometimes you just know best what you want and how to give it to yourself. I sometimes take a long bath and go to bed early so that…’
‘OK! Enough information. Jeez, it’s bad enough that you saw me but I don’t need to hear all your personal secrets. But thanks anyway, love. Not many daughters would be so understanding. I promise not to do it again while we’re here.’
‘No, Dad, I don’t mean for you to stop. That’s not why I’m telling you. I want you to feel free to take a partner. You deserve it. You’re a very good-looking guy. Lots of women would love you to shag them.’
‘Sarah! Please.’
It’s true, Dad. Even women my age would want a man of your looks and experience. I promise you.’ Thinking then, ‘I know, let’s go on the pull tomorrow night. Then you’ll see. OK?’
‘Well, I’ll think about it.’
‘And don’t feel you can’t… you know, play with yourself, if your want to. Honest truth is that I may have to soon. I normally don’t go this long without and it’s getting to me. Tell you what. Let’s make a pact, just for the holiday. Subtle, under the bedclothes wanking is allowed once the lights are out. Our secret.’ Then holding out her hand to shake, ‘Deal?’
‘How did you get to be such a naughty girl?’ Michael responds, but taking her hand all the same.
‘Well I’m going to anyway. You can if you want.’
‘Not sure I could now anyway. Knowing that you know.’
