My daughter Sarah was coming home from college, having just graduated at the top of her class with a degree in microbiology. A few months ago, my wife Jill and I had convinced her to go on one more family vacation with us, before heading back to begin her Masters program. Going all in, we planned a few days in Athens, Greece, followed by a 2-week cruise of the Mediterranean. The plan was to pick her up at the airport and head right out on our vacation. Unfortunately, as with the best laid plans...
Out of the blue, and with only a few days left before we were set to leave, Jill told me that she needed to make some last minute changes to our plans.
"Sorry, Dave. I need to fly down to Miami with my VP of Marketing to have a sit-down with the CEO of a company we're purchasing, so I won't be here on Wednesday to leave with you and Sarah. I'll be back on Friday morning, so I'll just catch a later flight myself and meet you there Saturday evening. I know you want us all together, but this'll give you a few days with Sarah to catch up! You two got pretty distant when she became a teenager, and it hasn't really improved since. This could be a great opportunity to reconnect, find some common interest to share, spend some quality time together. I hope you understand!"
"Of course I understand. I knew when I decided to marry a powerful, corporate executive that there would be sacrifices!"
Jill had her usual dead-pan expression in response to my unique sense of humor. "Hmm, when YOU decided, huh? Seems to me that I was the one who DECIDED that you'd make great arm candy for me."
"That's what I meant, of course," I replied, smirking. I loved my role as the "kept man", holding down the fort at home while my wife was off conquering the corporate world. Of course, as a "kept man" I felt it my duty to be respectable "am candy" for my CEO wife, so I spent A LOT of time at the gym, keeping my 5' 10" frame lean and tight. My wife rolled her eyes, pretending that my humor was lost on her; but the truth is that she is one of the few people who actually gets me.
"And I'm not nervous at all at the thought of spending two days alone with my teenage daughter, so don't you worry about me! Does she still like 'Chuck-E-Cheese'?"
"She's almost 20, Pops! Just pretend you're with me and I'm sure you'll be fine!"
Sarah finished her Bachelor's program in just 2 years, having taken all of her general college classes while still in high school. My girl was one smart cookieο
It's Tuesday morning and Jill just left for the airport. I have just over 24 hours before picking up Sarah at the airport, and beginning what is shaping up to be a very long four+ days. It's important to me to take full advantage of an entire day all by myself, so I sleep in, hang out in my boxers while watching daytime television, surf some porn on the internet(jerk off a couple of times), order some pizza, and then finish off a six-pack before finally passing out on the couch. To put it simply, it's been the perfect day.
Even though I enjoy projecting the image of being an irresponsible slacker, I run my life quite the opposite, and Wednesday morning I'm packed and ready to go when I arrive right on schedule to pick up Sarah outside of baggage claim. I'm still enjoying the last moments of temporary bachelorhood as I pull up to the curb; so I spend some time checking out this unbelievable brunette who's standing all by herself, while I wait for my daughter to find me. Her brown hair is cut and short and styled, a pixi cut I think they call it; and her tight black slacks fit perfectly as they cling to the curves of her firm, round ass. Luckily, she makes a turn in my direction, and my eyes are instantly drawn to her alabaster skin and full chest, which is working hard to pop the buttons off of her tight, white top. She's got the complexion and build of my wife, whom, at that moment, I am wishing I'd taken for just one more ride on my cock before seeing her off on her flight yesterday. My ogling comes to an abrupt end, however, when I hear a familiar voice coming from a most surprising place.
"Hi, Daddy!"
When my study in perfection starts walking towards me and calling me "Daddy", I have to suddenly reset my brain before I can appropriately greet my daughter.
"Oh, hey, well... Hi, Sarah! Wow! Boy, do you look great! If you've been focusing as much attention on your studies as you have on your appearance, you must be top of your class!"
"Thanks, I think. It's nice to see you too... Are we stopping at home first, or are am I getting right back on a plane? I kind of wanted to change before we head out."
"Well, I was planning on just driving another 100 yards and letting you back out at departures; but I suppose we can make a quick stop if we must..."
"Cute, Daddy," she deadpans.
"Hey, you started it, Miss 'am I getting right back on a plane' ...Smart-ass!" I look over and give Sara a grin.
"I'll give you that one. So how long is it until Mom joins us?"
"84 long hours, Sweetheart. Think you can handle it?"
"Sure. A chunk of that'll be in the air, and Athens should be cool. We can check it out before she gets there and show her the more interesting but less touristy parts."
"Sounds like a plan."
I eventually pull into the driveway, but keep the car running. "Now hurry up and change so we can get out of here!"
"Yes sir!" And just like that Sarah is running to the house with her bag in hand, undoubtedly prepared to take her time while she changes into something a little more... well, I'm not really sure what.
The sound of the opening car door wakes me from an unscheduled nap; and Sarah throws her bag onto the back seat, before once again taking her place as my passenger. Her feet are bare, as are her legs, and her smooth skin is glowing with a healthy tan. Her shorts are as form fitting as her slacks, except that they ride a lot lower around her waist. Her school letters are silk screened on the front of her half-shirt; but they're distorted from being stretched too tightly across her firm, full, bra-free chest. Her tan midriff and bottom of her boobs are visible below the ridiculously short hemline of her top; and her toned abs don't allow even the slightest roll over the top of her low-riding waistband. Yikes, am I going to have my hands full with this one! I'll be beating the guys back left and right.
Back at the airport and finally seated in 1st class, we share in comfortable conversation as we start our journey. Sarah eventually falls asleep and leaves me to quietly enjoy the in-flight movie over my headphones. She's still passed out when we arrive in Athens; so I grab and then shake her leg to wake up. Her firm thigh muscles tell me that I must be paying for a gym membership; and I'm glad to know that at least some of my money is being well spent. After deplaning, we gather our bags and grab a taxi to the hotel. Once checked in at the front desk, we make our way up to our rooms. Sarah's happy to find that she has her own room, but even so, the first thing she does is prop open the door between them, minimizing our amount of privacy. She tosses her bag onto her bed and then quickly runs into my room to bounce around on mine, messing up the comforter and the tightly tucked-in sheets in the process. I'd forgotten what an adventure it is to stay in a hotel when you're a teenager (she'll be 20 next month); and her enthusiasm and youthful energy are all that I need to remind me.
"It's still nice out, Daddy...Is it O.K. if I go to the pool for a little bit? I want to work on my tan!"
"Taking after your mother, you've never been tan a day in your life, but sure. And if you don't mind, I think I'll join you. I, on the other hand, do have a tan to work on!"
"Whatever, Daddy! Now if you're gonna go with, you'd better hurry up and change!"
Hurry up and wait is more like it; but I'm used to the routine from my years of marriage with Jill. When Sarah goes back to her room to change, she leaves the door between our rooms open; and although I can't see her, I can hear her rustling around while she puts on her suit. I'm fiddling with the television remote when she excitedly bounces back into my room.
"C'mon! Let's go!" she insists while pulling at my arm.
"Don't you have a towel or robe or something to cover yourself up with on the way down?"
"No. I had to pack pretty light, and I could only bring just the bare minimum of stuff. And the parking lot looked pretty empty when we checked in. Don't think there are many people here right now. It is mid-week. But I'm sure you'll protect me if I cause too much of a commotion between here and the pool, so I'm not worried!"
Sarah rushes in front of me as we hurry down the hall. The motion from her fast pace causes the lower portion of her bikini bottoms to wedge in between her alabaster cheeks. The waistline of her swimsuit rises high over her hip bones, and the thin triangle of material up front plunges sharply down before disappearing between her legs. It's clear that her breasts have no need for support, since the bikini top is held in place by only a tiny, elastic band which barely keeps the two triangles of material in place. Sara's bouncing from one foot to the next as we stand together in the air conditioned elevator; and even the jet black swimsuit can't hide her nipples as they become visibly stiff and press out against the thin fabric. While I stand here trying not to admire my 19 year old daughter, I wonder if this is what Susan meant by "quality time".
I'm happy to see that the pool, which is located in an open courtyard with the hotel itself surrounding it, is deserted; and the privacy allows Sarah and I to splash around and dunk each other like we did when she was still a kid. After a few minutes in the pool, she decides to lie out and capture the last of the afternoon sun. Her wet bikini clings to her skin as she walks out of the water, no longer concealing the delicate landscape underneath. Sarah's unconcerned with her appearance as she walks carefully across the wet pool deck. She stretches out on a reclining chair, resting her head on a folded up towel, and lets the sun dry both her suit and her skin. I spend the next hour nodding in and out, and am relieved when Sarah finally decides she's ready to eat.
Once back in our rooms, we agree that we both want to shower before finding a nice restaurant to have dinner at. I grab my toiletries and close myself into the large, nicely appointed bathroom. I shave my face before stepping into the oversized, 2-person whirlpool bath/shower, and proceed to wash off the day's activities. The jetted tub wasn't mentioned in any of the descriptions of the rooms; and I know Jill will appreciate the surprise. I have to leave the steamy bathroom to dry myself off, so I wrap a towel around my waist while I unpacked a pair of slacks and a light-cotton button-up shirt from my suitcase. I'm dressed and ready to go in less than ten minutes; and while sitting in front of the television I begin to wonder when Sarah might be ready herself.
I stand up from the bed and walk toward the open privacy door. While standing well within the boundaries of my room, I poke my head through the adjoining doorway to ask for an approximate ready time. I'm left speechless when I see her leaning over her bed, completely naked except for a towel wrapped around her head. She's singing to the music crackling out from the small, bedside clock radio, totally focused on the clothes she's pawing through, unaware of the fact that her dad's standing there watching her.
Her breasts are hanging almost motionless as she pulls clothes from her bag. Her small nipples are still hard; and they help bring the smooth curves of her boobs up to a focused point. Her perfect white skin is flawless; and her toned stomach leads the way down to her smooth, cleanly waxed...pussy. For just a split second it feels like I'm looking at my wife, way back when we were still young and carefree. I immediately feel ashamed for thinking of my daughter's vagina as her pussy, a term strictly reserved for my wife's sweet lovebox and porn on the internet. But there it is, staring me in the face: a beautiful, tight pussy, hairless and perfect. Referring to such a work of art as a simple piece of anatomy would be doing it an injustice. My cock quickly rises to salute the perfection before me, tenting my towel obscenely. I manage to escape from the doorway without being noticed; and in my shameful arousal I decided to sit quietly and wait for as long as it takes. The image of Sarah is fixed in my brain, and even though the television's on in front of me, I'm oblivious to it.
My trance is broken when Sarah finally enters my room. I assume she's still not ready to go, since all she's wearing is a sheer lacey bra and matching thong panties. Unable to find a solution to what is apparently quite a problem, she stands before me to ask for my guidance. I force myself to look her straight in her eyes while she talks.
"Daddy, would you mind if I wore the same outfit that I had on when you picked me up at the airport? I really wasn't able to pack a whole lot of out-on-the-town clothes, so basically it's the only thing I have that I can wear for dinner."
I think the outfit she's standing in is perfect, but decide that even jokingly it would be a pretty inappropriate thing to say. "That's fine Honey, as long as it doesn't stink. I mean it was pretty warm today, and I know how sweaty you can get!"
