Disclaimer:
All persons involved in any sexual situation are 18 years of age or more. The following story is pure fantasy.
*****
I tossed and turned for a long time after my enlightening chat with Dottie. Her news about Dad was startling and made me pretty upset but I'm glad she trusted me enough to tell. I stared at the ceiling in my dark room, the music on my radio just barely audible ("There is no pain, you are receding/A distant ship, smoke on the horizon/You are only coming through in waves/Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying...") Dottie came to me because the news was going to burst out of her and she knew that I loved her and I loved our father. It was difficult to absorb the significance of her words; I was having a very difficult time wrapping my brain around them. My dad watched Dottie undressing? On more than one occasion? I know he missed Mom but he could have easily gotten someone to take care of those urges. He was a tall, good-looking guy with a good job and a nice house.
And a daughter who is a perfect 10.
How could I truly be upset with my Dad if I had experienced those same feelings? She's so beautiful and sweet and smart. Who knows how many buckets I've figuratively filled with visions of Dottie running through my perverted, lust-filled brain? I sometimes think how much easier it would be if she was just a bitch or something, just tits with legs. Not as simple as that, unfortunately. She was a sweet girl with a beautiful soul.
And her attitude about the whole thing! She wasn't angry or even disturbed in the slightest. "I still love him." "It's just what guys do, I guess." "Guys get boners." And then when she flipped up her shirt and showed me her blue panties... Oh god, if I wasn't already hard at that moment... I could still hear her feet padding lightly down the stairs when I pulled my dick out and furiously punished it. By the time she turned the TV on I was spraying cum all over my left foot. Usually I like to draw it out and enjoy it, going through my expansive file of Dottie fap fantasies, but I just needed to blow one out.
I should have just taken her up on her offer to watch a movie. And done what? Just watched a movie? Confessed my eternal and undying love? Grabbed a tit? None of those would have happened, of course. I would have sat on the couch with her and tried, with the lights off, to get a quick glance at her boobs. Or maybe stared longlingly at her butt as she walked into the kitchen for a drink. But it would all have ended the same way: in my room, lying in bed, dick in hand, Dottie fap fantasy file #302 at bat and #192 on deck.
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TAP TAP TAP
My eyes flew open. Glancing over to my night stand I saw it was 2:02 am. I could hear branches outside my window being pushed around by the wind. I shivered and realized I was lying naked on top of my covers.
TAP TAP TAP
I quickly shuffled under the covers and pulled them tight over me. "Yeah?" My voice was like tires on gravel.
Dottie poked her head in to see me smoothing the covers over myself. There was that smile. "Did I interrupt anything?"
"Yes!" I said a little too harshly. "Sleep."
She slipped quietly in and moved across the floor to sit in the wing-back chair next to my bed. She pulled her feet up under her perfect butt and sighed. She wore no makeup and her hair was a bit of a mess but still she looked like a goddess.
"I'm sorry to wake you but I still wanted to talk." She had a big smile on her face but her eyes showed something else. Melancholy? It was an expression so rarely seen on Dottie's beautiful face, I couldn't quite place it. "You didn't come downstairs, Peter. I waited forever."
I felt an instant pang of regret. I should have gone downstairs and suffered through a movie with her. I should have just dealt with whatever inane, sappy rom-com she put on. I should have been an adult and ignored the smell of raspberries from her shower, the vision of perfection sitting next to me on the couch and my inevitable erection. But I didn't. I stayed in my room like a pussy, whacked-off to thoughts of rubbing my dick on Dottie's ass, then laid on my bed, remorseful and sullen, picking my way through the conversation we had had earlier in the night.
"Sorry, Dottie. I told you I was tired. I'd been studying for over four hours for finals and my brain was like Jell-O. I crashed as soon as you left my room."
"I know," she said, wiggling her cute little toes, which of course brought my attention to her butt on top of them, "I was just enjoying talking to my best friend." She smiled warmly. Then she threw on a more serious face. "Look. I started feeling guilty about our conversation earlier, which is why I was hoping you would have come downstairs. I'd been wanting to tell you about Dad for a long time and I finally couldn't wait anymore. It just sort of burst out of me."
I cleared my throat. "Dottie you don't have to explain yourself."
"I know. The moment I went downstairs I started feeling regret that I had said anything at all. It wasn't fair to you." She could see me start to protest and raised a hand. "I know, big brother, protector, all that jazz. But I could have gone to the grave with that knowledge and it would not have changed who I am at all. Dad did what he did but I'm not mad at him at all! My childhood is not scarred and it's not something that's going to stop me from intimacies as I get older or any of that nonsense. Maybe if he'd said, 'Nice ass, hot-stuff' or tried to molest me or something, it might be different. I don't know."
"I understand and you're being remarkably mature about it. I just hope there's nothing lurking below the surface that will rise up and cause my sudden castration or something." I smiled weakly.
Dottie laughed. "No, we don't want that thing gone before it's been put to good use." She smiled at my obvious discomfort. "Speaking of which, how long has it been since you've been on a date? I know you've been trying to be serious about school but a young man's got to sow his wild oats, right? That's what I hear."
"Ugh!" I flopped my arms to my sides. "Let's not have this conversation."
"Hey, I just want my big brother to be happy. Is there no co-ed that's caught your eye? It's a big school. Surely there's someone?"
I started counting off on my fingers and saying quietly, "One...two...three..." Then I looked over to Dottie. "Nope. No one."
"Well, that's too bad. I'm sure there's a girl out there somewhere for you." She put her chin on her hand. "I know there is." She suddenly shivered. "It's freezing in this room. I wish Aunt Dorothy wasn't so weird about the heat in this place. How can we predict this crappy weather? 'Just put on a sweater, doll-face!' It's May, almost summer!" She pointed to the other side of my bed. "Can I use your afghan?"
I grabbed the blanket and tossed it to her. She spread it over her legs and I was sad to see them go. "So tell me, Peter. Why do you have such a hard time getting a girlfriend? It doesn't make any sense. You're funny, mostly smart..." She smirked at me. "...and you're very handsome. Plus, you play the guitar! I mean, come on!"
I rolled my eyes. "Don't tease me, Dottie. I'm just a guy, always in the friend-zone. I guess I'm 'safe'." That sounded so pathetic actually coming out of my mouth but it was true. At least half of my friends were girls, most attractive, and they were completely out of my reach.
"That's ridiculous, Peter." She honestly looked surprised to hear me say that. Sweet Dottie. "You're tall, have great hair, great skin, just the right amount of muscle, nice butt..." She giggled at that. "And remember," she added, glancing down my blanket-covered body, "I've seen what you're packing down there." She covered her smile with her hand.
"Oh my lord, Dottie," I said but couldn't help but let a smile cross my face. "Maybe you need glasses. Plus, you know, I was a little revved-up at that moment and, you know, most dicks look a little more impressive in that state. Besides," I added, turning on my side to face her, "How would you know what to compare it to? How expansive is your first-hand penis knowledge?"
Again, she giggled. "Virtually non-existent, as you very well know, Peter Harper."
"Virtually?"
She looked up at the ceiling. "Well, Michael Janycz put my hand on his crotch when we went to the movies. I was so embarrassed and just let it sit there without moving. I don't want to be mean because he really was a nice guy but he seemed..." She paused. "...really...small. Not that there's anything wrong with that! He just kept looking at my hand while breathing heavy and then he stood up quickly to go to the restroom. I'm pretty sure he came in his pants." She shook her head. "And when Molly and I went to that concert at the college last month, remember we took the bus? It was so crowded and there was a guy standing right behind me who was rubbing himself against my butt. It was kind of gross, he was not much taller than me and like 50 and reeked of cigarettes. It was really hard to tell but his dick felt gigantic, like he had a flashlight in his pocket or something. And..." She paused, obviously embarrassed. "Peter, I swear I'm not a sicko or anything so please don't think this is weird but I really like having my butt touched. It kinda tickles, in a good way. Most guys are afraid to do it I think. It's probably poor form for me to just yell out, 'someone please fondle my ass!' Maybe they're afraid I'll hit them or something. Or maybe they're afraid of my big brother." She smiled warmly at me. "Anyway, besides that there's just the freaks on the internet that Molly made me look at. Gross. So I can honestly say, with full confidence, that your dick is easily the biggest and most impressive tool I've ever seen in real life."
It was a good thing that I had turned to the side at that moment because my dick really started to get an influx of blood. The thought of touching, squeezing, massaging, and groping Dottie's butt invaded my thoughts. I'm sure I had a very distracted and distant look on my face because Dottie tilted her head and said, "Peter?" I shook my head, snapping out of my reverie. "Thoughts? Comments? Observations?"
"What do you mean? About Daddy Big-Dick on the bus? About Michael Hair-Trigger? Or about the fact that you like to be felt up?"