She continued the pantomime struggle, but weaker, gradually abandoning the pseudo-escapes. Able to trap her now, he ripped off her booty shorts as she pranced to resist but in effect assisted her denuding. He threw her face down over the arm of the couch, his freed erection poking at her pussy. She mimed some resistance as he slipped in, inch by inch. Her flailing widened her stance and facilitated his deeper and deeper thrusts.
Her moans and groans successfully nourished his fantasy. His hands gripped her breasts and held her body to his, back to chest, her ass cheeks pounded by his groin. The strokes sped up as he doggie-fucked her to his eventual cry of libido relief.
Connor kept his distance from her for the rest of the day. He thought he had depleted himself and after the nightly news, he hauled himself to bed alone. His door opened and closed, letting in a flash of the hall lights. He woke to the momentary light that glowed in the room. The mattress depressed with the weight of a moving body and a warm creature cuddled against him. His daughter had arrived to join him through the night.
She lay her head on his shoulder, emitting a perfume shampoo scent from her long dark hair. He wormed an arm under and around her body and discovered she was naked, or at least topless. A one-arm hug pulled her breasts to his side. She shifted her head to scoot a little closer and pressed her nipples into his skin.
Her hand snaked to his groin and cradled his shaft in her palm. The touch was effective; she sensed a swelling. And that was the beginning of a long warm night with minimal sleep for the father-daughter playmates.
It began with a kiss; she stretched her neck up to place her lips on his. They canoodled smooth caresses; his hand wound tighter and cupped her tit and her hand rubbed his cock. They had performed cowgirl and doggy today and Connor was too weary to take on a missionary fuck.
Irina maneuvered them into sidesaddle, one of her knees folded over his hip. The tip of his knob touched her split pink nether lips. She scooted her ass forward, helping his puffy knob tip push just inside, the corona still exposed. Her pussy muscles suckled the tip and his cock slowly followed the vacuum into her vagina. He thrust mildly and his knob bumped her cervix. The sex was smooth and easy; Irina did most of the movement. He let his ardor build slowly, then spewed gently, an all-over body spasm that quelled, for now, the remains of his dwindling lust.
As he nestled next to his bedmate offspring in the post-coital glow, his drowsy mind considered his family relations. The older son and daughter had their lives settled on the opposite coasts. He got obligatory phone calls on his birthday. The grandkids sent him thank you cards and notes for Christmas and birthday presents. And that was about it.
But here was Irina, the bonus child he and his wife hadn't anticipated, born years after her siblings. She had always been the doting parents' favorite, the youngest usually is. And as time passed, they kept her close to fend off the inevitable empty nest as long as possible.
Now here she was back again, grown into a young woman. But she was still his perfect Daddy's girl, concerned for his physical, sexual, and emotional welfare. He would call his lawyer next week and change the equal three-part inheritance into a more equitable proportion. Maybe an 80-10-10 ratio. He dozed off contented with his decision to rescript his will.
Dawn broke into another day. They awakened cuddling, their bodies covered in dry sweat and mixed coital dregs sullying their groins. A shower was in order.
She soaped his body, being generous at his genitals, bringing on another erection. He looked over her shower-drenched body and craved one more time in her cunt. He pressed her back to the tiled wall. She was willing, wrapping her arms around his neck, mashing her mouth to his and her wet tits to his chest. He lifted her right leg and hooked it on his hip, her belly against his waist. She was ready and eager to oblige his sudden assertiveness and used her hand to poke his knob tip against her pussy lips.
Holding the deep kiss, he punched in to her muffled 'oomph' and thrust all the way deep. She engaged her vaginal muscles to massage his cock as he rammed harsh staccato strokes, bouncing her standing foot off the shower floor. He kept up the pace as his sexual fever rose to its peak and, still lip-locked, sent his manly conquest yelp into her mouth as his cannonade of cum shot into her cunt. He regained his consciousness under the shower spray, still hugging her drenched body.
After a rubdown toweling, they sat at breakfast. Connor mused how an old man like him could cum so often in one weekend. Irina gleefully explained it wasn't the age but the desire. He had ignored his libido for too long and now his passions were being reasserted.
She suggested he visit her new clinic and let his revamped genital muscles exploit their newfound vigor.
