Tihana's father continues his telling of their relationship........
I took the news of my wife's death and constant reporting of her lifestyle badly. But, not as badly as you might have thought. I was in truth fed up with my wife's affairs, her drinking, her drugs, her fawning entourage, her generally arrogant disposition. She had lost her very essence and had become a caricature of herself.
So, I was not surprised at the circumstances in which she had been found. I grieved not for whom my wife was, the woman the public loved, but for whom she had been. I would never have the opportunity to rescue her as I had hoped.
To take her back. To reclaim her.
I had all this ripped from me. And then the press intrusion and continual stories, people shuffling with embarrassment (as they gave their final farewells but who had been party to my wife's deceit). No, her death did not put me in a bad place.
I was there because I had my future stolen, my retribution. Because yes, damn it, I could have saved her. Couldn't I?
Charli had taken it badly. I didn't know what to say or do. So we just stayed out of each other's way. We barely spoke. I guess she was dealing with her guilt in her own way. She was going out a lot as well. And coming in late. And her clothes were becoming increasingly provocative. That bothered me.
So I decided to go away to our place in Majorca. For some "me" time. I guess I was surprised, but delighted, when Charli said she wanted to come. I felt a stirring in my loins as she said so. The first time that had happened for a while.
The first day we just sat by the pool. I had some work to do so sat in the shade but my eyes kept wandering to Charli. That honey coloured body, endless legs, golden locks. He cute nose, freckles and those oh,so kissable lips.
When she turned on her front, oblivious to the world with her I pod in, and unclasped her bikini top I caught a sneaky glimpse of her breasts and began to re imagine our previous flirtation. I wasn't actually sure any of it happened that way.
Sure,we danced, I did get a hard on....but was she really aware. Did she really rub herself into me or was she just dancing. Had she deliberately revealed her body to me or was that just no big deal for someone at ease with their body.
It was in that confused state that we went for dinner. Charli, of course, looked like a million dollars. A cream backless dress and matching stilettos that made her legs even taller, more fragile like a gazelle.
I got so worked up with myself, with my guilt and self doubt, that the conversation was stilted. How could I have been so silly? She is my daughter, just being affectionate. And there was me thinking...whatever. How does that work?
My mood carried on to the second day. I so much wanted to talk to her properly. Touch her...even just to rub sun tan lotion into her body. To enjoy her touch, or get a sign. Encouragement. But nothing.
So, after dinner I went to bed early, leaving her alone on the sun deck.
I lay awake for a while listening to the silence broken by her occasional foot fall and the clink of glass and splash of wine. Then silence. The sheets were cool and my mind was racing, wanting so much to dance with Charli, to feel her body warmth, to enjoy the electric shock of how we had teased one another like nervous teenagers exploring sexual excitement for the first time - which of course was exactly what she was doing. But I needed tenderness. And a release.
I must have drifted off to sleep but was disturbed by a sound in the room. I lay still, in the half world between dreams and reality. Charli was in the room. She whispered something I couldn't quiet hear and leant over me. She pulled the sheets back a little. I kept my eyes closed, heart beating, hoping for boldness.
The slight pressure on the bed sent my nerves tingling and my mouth was dry. God I needed a drink. She was naked as she wrapped her arms around me. I could feel her body slightly sticky from the humidity, the softness of her breasts, and the majesty of her toned limbs as they snuggled into me. She brushed her nipples against my back, swaying like she did in her erotic dance, no doubt arousing herself.
I wasn't sure whether she was hoping I was in a deep sleep and just wanted to use me as an aid to her own pleasure so I lay there waiting. For anything, the sign. She was still too and I felt a coolness on my back replacing her body warmth as she adjusted her body position - or perhaps was about to leave. So I said something, a word of encouragement.
"Mmmm. That's nice....."
Nice! What a word, neither good nor bad. Whenever a girl said I was "nice" that meant she liked me, but not enough to screw.
So I added, "...and horny".
She took that as the encouragement intended; as well she should, and ran her nails down my arms and over my chest, twirling the chest hairs playfully, pulling them with a soft giggle, trying to lighten the mood. I turned onto my back and put my arm around her sensitive shoulders, pulling her to me so I could caress her back. Just feeling her skin felt so wonderful. I let my hands dance over her, to the swell of her breast, her waist and hip line. I looked down at her face, those eyes studying me, the half smile, half serious look, and her moist lips, slightly apart. She leant up to kiss me on each cheek, and brushed her lips against mine. As she reached up her leg crossed mine and rested against my now pretty hard cock.
We found a position we liked, so I could caress her lower back, smoothing her as she purred with delight whilst she was teasing my cock with slight movements of her leg.
We lay like that for a while, saying nothing, not wishing to ruin the moment, caught in our own private thoughts. Was it enough for me just to treasure this moment, to enjoy her youthful beauty lying next to me, the almost innocent teasing of my cock. The whole moment was part innocent, part seductive -- an amazing combination. I was aching to be touched...properly. The teasing had done its job; I was teased to within an inch of frustration.
I plucked up courage:
"You OK?" I asked.
"Mmmm. Just perfect. You?"
"Look honey, I don't want to, err, (pause whilst searching for the right words) break the spell, but my mouth is so dry I need a drink. You need anything?"
I was just about to get out of the bed when she replied.
"You mean, do I need anything, apart from you?" and giggled. Then continued, "Let me get it, you stay there and keep the bed warm." At that she leant over, the sheet slipping from her body to expose her perfect breasts and then kissed me, a soft pressure of her lips on mine, mouth slightly apart, and a sweetness of breath. She grabbed a towel and was gone.
Her lips had been so soft, so gentle. My heart pounded. I quickly dashed to the toilet and gargled with mouthwash. I didn't want to ruin a promising moment with some basic hygiene. My cock was lolling manfully between my legs. I was well endowed in that department, a good 8 ½ inches, a nice girth, smooth and circumcised. So lovely and clean for my girl I mused. But just to be on the safe side, I splashed cold water on him, if nothing else to help him maintain his patience.
I was just back in bed when she came back, champagne glasses in hand. She had put her hair back in place and had applied some fresh lipstick, that lovely sparkly pale pink colour that just made her lips look moist and even more delectable. She came round my side of the bed, put the glasses down and then untied the towel, holding it in one hand to let me look at her, standing naked in front of me.
She held my gaze, here blue eyes searching mine, looking for a reaction as she let me take her in, appreciate her, approve of her figure, her breasts, her hips. This took only a few seconds but it felt like an age before she dropped the towel, a full smile as she did.
"My God, you are so beautiful. Come here.........please, come here," I pleaded whilst opening up the sheet. I could see her eyes glance at my torso, and my cock resting there firmly across my leg.
She took a deep in-take of breath, perhaps as reality bit, and snuggled in. It seems that we had both made a decision.
We sat for a while sipping champagne. Charli had just wrapped the sheet around her breasts so her shoulders were bare, her hair tumbling down onto them. She looked a little nervous, unsure of the moment that was to come. A moment we both knew was now inevitable.
"Look," I said, "let's just.........."
I couldn't finish my words because she had moved her face close to me, angled her head inviting a kiss and parting her lips in welcome. I kissed her, open mouthed, but gently at first, nibbling at her lower lip, kissing the sides, and then letting my tongue trace the outline of her mouth.
I was still holding my glass so broke the kiss and leaned over to my side of the bed to put the glass down and then took hers, before grabbing her gently by the waist and pulling her down into the bed. She giggled girlishly at that, her hair splayed over the pillow, her face taking on that serious, expectant look that melted my heart.
We kissed again and as we did I caressed her face, the tips of my fingers gliding lightly over the cheekbone, smoothing her hair back, then tracing down her neck line, and to the sensitive area at the nape of her neck. She was breathing a little deeper, moaning softly as we kissed, responding as my fingers sought out her erogenous zones.
I was lying above her, her breasts pressing softly into my chest, so I could feel the rise and fall of her breathing. She was mostly flat on her back but had tilted her body towards mine and had rested her hand on my hip as we had kissed. I could feel her nails on my skin, long and polished to a tip. Just the lightest of touches traced a gentle scratch down my body.
As I began to kiss more deeply, my tongue exploring her mouth, my lips savouring her softness, her taste, she moved her hand round to encircle my cock. That startled me.
I wanted this sexual touch, but had not expected it. I had put it out of my mind, just enjoying kissing her and caressing her as if that was all I was entitled to. Her touch was at first so gentle, then firmer as she began to explore, her breathing getting deeper as we kissed and she enjoyed the escalation in sexual intimacy. She alternated between caressing with soft fingers and then running her nails up and down the shaft and as she did I kissed her harder, letting her know the pleasure she was giving me.
The thought entered my mind like an explosion. She no longer was using my cock in an innocent way to please herself, to fulfill her own discovery, as I had been using our dance for my own selfish ends and fantasy. No, she was seeking to give me pleasure.
