She Always Was an Unusual Girl

This is the third, and possibly final chapter in this story. Again, I am powered by your comments, and they are what keep me writing. I hope you enjoy.

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Honestly, if someone had asked me a year ago if I thought a sex would be an appropriate way to deal with stress and depression, I would have looked at them as if they were nuts. But since then my daughter has pulled me out a many years' long funk that I didn't even know I was in, and later I somehow pulled her out of a spiralling bout of depression. Both of these were achieved using some rather forbidden means, namely some rather memorable sexual sessions. I thought that would make things awkward between us, but my daughter always was an unusual child, and she was able to completely put it behind her so effectively that I had no choice but to follow.

And the truth is that there is no sexual tension between us, which seems hard to believe. We chalked those two sessions up to something that needed to be done in the name of mental health, and moved on. We were as close as ever, and loved each other entirely, but only as father and daughter.

My work has been going fantastically, and I have found a new sense of creativity. I have even begun flirting with a couple of the ladies in my office, which pre-daughter sex I wouldn't have even considered. My daughter is going from strength to strength in her studies, after a slight hiccup now apparently completely rectified. Now she was talking about doing her doctorate in advanced science, which made me pretty damn happy. So you'd think there'd be nothing that could spoil this sunshine and light, wouldn't you?

Madeline surprised me one day at dinner time, as we sat down to lasagne, one of my signature dishes. Madeline surprising me was not a unique situation, due to her unusual nature, but this one was a doozy.

"Don't worry about me tomorrow for dinner, daddy," she said. She still called me daddy, despite the fact she was nearing her twentieth birthday. "I'm probably going to not come home until Saturday." Today was Thursday, so she was going to stay out until the day after tomorrow.

"Oh, yes?" I said, raising an eyebrow. Madeline didn't have many friends, none of whom were particularly close. She tends to put them off a little with her odd behaviour, so her staying out all night was strange, but not unheard of. "You have some big plans?"

"Yeah, I met a guy at college. An arts student I think," she grimaced a little at this, her brain more suited to the sciences. "We are going to meet up and have dinner and drinks. After that I plan to go back to his place for some sex."

I choked on my last mouthful. She had provided a little too much information for me, much too suddenly. "What?! How long have you two been going out?"

Madeline looked at me as if I had asked a nonsense question. "We haven't. This is our first time."

"Don't you think you should... I don't know... wait until you get to know him better?"

Madeline grinned at me, stood up, and kissed me on the forehead. She looked down at me, smiling. "Daddy, I know you're just trying to protect me, but you really don't have to! I am a big girl, and I can make decisions for myself now." She hugged me. "I don't really want a long-term relationship. I just don't understand how someone can want to be with one person day in, day out for months, or years, at a time. It just isn't the right time for that for me right now, I guess."

"Then why..."

"She raised one eyebrow, holding me at arms-length. She flicked a finger into my forehead. "For a smart guy, you are pretty dense sometimes. Ever since that first time we had sex I have really developed a taste for it. That second time only made things worse. I'm telling you, I have lost count as to how many batteries I have gone through for my buzzing friend! But it is still nothing like the real thing, so I plan to take this guy out, use him mercilessly, and then move on."

"But... Shouldn't you... What if he..." I stuttered, completely thrown by this whole conversation.

"Relax dad, I'll be kind to him, no handcuffs or anything. Besides, I couldn't have sex with you just because I was feeling horny. That would be wrong!"

I must have looked like a right royal idiot, sitting there with my mouth open, but luckily I was saved by the phone ringing, forcefully snapping me out of my shock. I actually jumped when it rang, and fumbled the handset. "Hi... I mean 'Hello', John speaking."

There was silence at the other end of the phone, and I had just began to think it was a prank call, when a female voice on the other end of the line said, "Hello, John."

Okay, now I was completely thrown. I sat there, eyes bugging out, wondering what had happened to my normal, happy dinner with my daughter. "Anna?"

Madeline spun around from where she had begun to tidy up the dishes, and mouthed, "Mom?" to me. I nodded slightly.

"Yes, it's me," she replied. "How have you been?"

"Good, good. Both Madeline and I have been doing pretty well lately." Anna was my ex-wife, and Madeline's mother. She left us when Madeline was very young to go live with some guy she met over the internet. She never really got on Madeline, having something against her unusual behaviour.

"How is your job? Did you finally get that promotion you were always hunting for?" she asked.

I felt a twinge of annoyance, she hadn't inquired after her daughter once! "No, I didn't. I kinda gave up on it for a long time, although I'm considering pushing for it again."

"That's good." She paused, and I could think of nothing to fill in the gap with. Finally she said, "John, could we get together soon? Perhaps over coffee, or a meal? I have a few things I would love to catch up with you about, perhaps over dinner."

"Dinner? I suppose I could do something like that..." Madeline started mouthing 'Tomorrow' at me, so I said without thinking, "How does tomorrow sound?"

"Fantastic! I will meet you at the front of your house, say around 7pm? We should go to Georgio's! I haven't been there in ages! See you then!" and with that she had hung up the phone, without waiting for my goodbye.

I looked at the receiver dumbly for a minute then carefully placed it on the cradle, not really trusting my hands at this time.

"Well? What does she want?" demanded Madeline.

"Just to talk. We are going out to Georgio's tomorrow evening, for dinner. I guess she just wants to catch up."

"I doubt that," snorted Madeline.

"Huh?" I grunted, having trouble following the plot of the drama that is my life.

"Mom always had everything planned out. Like when she had that money squirrelled away just before she left. She does everything for a reason. Besides, I bet it was her choice to go to Georgio's, right? Wasn't that the romantic place you first went to with her on your first date? She is pushing for something, I bet."

"Now, Madeline, your mother wasn't all bad. I did fall in love with her enough to marry her, right?"

"Yep, and that's why, if the opportunity presents itself, you should definitely have sex with her."

"What the hell happened to my nice normal life, with nice, normal conversations with my nice, normal daughter?" I bemoaned.

"Hush, I was never normal, and you know it. I just want you to have some fun with someone you have feelings for. You need sex as much as I do, and you can't palm off the responsibilities forever, you know! At some stage you are going to need the real thing. I seem to remember mom was a bit of a looker, so this is probably your best opportunity to get some action. And who knows, maybe it will remind you why you fell in love with her in the first place!"

"Are you sure, honey?" I asked. "I mean, you two never really got along..."

"Meh, water under the bridge," she replied, play-punching me on the shoulder. "So, please take the opportunity for a little... 'coffee' at her place afterwards. Okay? OKAY?"

She began to menace me, so I raise my hands in mock surrender and said, "Okay! Okay! But I still bet that she just wants to talk. You're making way too much out of this."

"We'll see!" she grinned, and left.

The next day, at work, I had trouble concentrating. I made a number of mistakes, causing my co-worker Helen to ask if I was okay.

"I'm fine. I just have a lot on my mind, lately."

"You want to talk about it? How about over drinks tonight?"

Was she asking me out? At a time like this? Could nothing go right for me? "Thanks, I appreciate that, but I have something on tonight. Another time?"

"Sure. Another time, then." Arg! I had been flirting with Helen, and the first time I see an opening and I was blocked by my ex-wife? I sighed. Tonight was going to be interesting.

I toiled on through the day, managing to last until it was time to go. I left quickly, had a quick shower, and then spent too long deciding what to wear. I was, until recently, completely unconcerned about my appearance. But ever since Madeline had pulled me from my funk, I had begun to go to the gym, and bought some nice clothes. I eventually selected a nice shirt, slacks and jacket that I hoped suggested, "I am happy and successful, despite being dumped by you." Who knows if I managed to carry it off.

I got to the restaurant a little late. I saw Anna was already there, seated side-on to me on a romantic-looking table set for two. I must admit, there were one or two differences about her that stood out like a sore thumb. I walked over, kissed her cheek and sat down across from her. She smiled warmly as I sat. Her eyes seem tired, a little more lined than I remembered. She seemed almost sad, although her smile seemed genuine enough. She was wearing more make-up than I had seen on her before. She didn't need it, for she always looked better without it.

"You are wearing your hair long, now." I commented, thinking compliments were a good place to start.

"Yes, Joey liked it long."

"And your dress, it looks very nice on you." Actually the dress looked amazing. It clung to her body tightly, showing that she had lost a lot of weight since we broke up, perhaps even too much. There was one thing that was really different, though...

"You mean it makes these look nice, don't you?" she replied teasingly, running her fingertips lightly over her breasts. The dress was cut low, exposing a very, very generous amount of cleavage. More cleavage than I had ever seen on her before, ever. More than I thought possible, even.

"Well, I wasn't going to mention those," I sheepishly added.

"Yeah well, Joey said he wanted me to get them, so he ended up buying them for my birthday one year." Was that a look of distaste that flickered across her features?

"Please forgive me for asking, but is everything alright between you and Joey? I mean, you always talk about him in the past tense."

"Joey... Joey left me for someone else," she said, with a slight catch in her voice.

"Oh, I am so sorry," I said, wondering how I could be so sorry about my ex-wife's boyfriend cheating on her, the same one she cheated on me with, but for some reason I was. I guess I was over all the anger.

"No, it's okay. It has been difficult between us for a while. He had become so demanding, and a little mean. He drank a lot, and didn't treat me well."

"Did he..." In my mind I vowed not to slow down in my car if I ever saw him crossing the street.

Anna took a deep, shuddering breath. Her eyes were shining, and I could tell that she was very close to tears. "Enough about that. How about you, you look fantastic. Have you been working out?"

The conversation drifted off to inconsequential things. I had the salmon in a nice cream sauce, she had the steak Diane. We drank wine with the meal and soon I began to feel a little drunk. It was pleasant, like old times when we first started going out. She was a lot of fun then, and the good times glowed happily in my memories. We giggled like schoolchildren as we discussed old times, the funny stories we had collected from our years together. She even asked a few questions about Madeline, which made me happy. We stayed for dessert, and had more wines. Soon we were both very, happily drunk.

I walked her out and we got into a taxi together. She held onto my arm, and we stayed close, still laughing. We dropped her off first, as her apartment was on the way to my house. She stepped out of the taxi, and then paused, as if a thought had suddenly come to her. She stepped back to the door and leaned forward to look me in the eye. It was all I could do to meet them, and not stare into the gorgeous expanse of cleavage this presented to me.

"Would you like to come up for a while? You know, for some coffee?"

I would have said no, I like to think. But a combination of the wine, the fun conversation, the cleavage and my promise to my daughter all combined to lever open my mouth and force me to say, "Sure, I'd love to."

We went up to her apartment. It was quite large, and neat and well laid out. The furniture was tasteful and expensive, although a lot of it was a little threadbare. Anna had obviously fallen on some hard times, but was still trying to keep up appearances. She bustled into the kitchen and set about preparing two coffees, spouting pleasantries about the weather, almost as if she were nervous, like this was our first date. I just leaned on the door frame and looked in at her with a grin on my face. I pictured her in another kitchen, in another time, preparing coffee for another, younger me. There was so much promise for the future back then.

She glanced up from her task and looked me in the eye. Her conversation paused and she looked coy, and again with that nervous anticipation. I looked back, still buzzing from the wine, admiring the woman she once was. She mistook what that meant, and stepped forwards, placed her hands on my chest and kissed be gently. My lips reacted on their own accord, and returned the kiss automatically. She moved back, lips just centimetres from mine, then pressed her whole body against me, slid her arms around my neck and kissed me hungrily.

I think she still used the same brand of shampoo. I could smell that familiar, sweet scent wafting from her hair, and it brought back some strange feelings of nostalgia. Her lips were so familiar to me, the way they moved, the flicking of her tongue against mine, the little moans she let out, the way she bit gently at my lower lip. It was all too much for me, and I responded in kind, wrapping my arms around her and crushing her to my body. Her breasts felt weird, too large, and firm in odd ways against my chest. Through the wine I wondered how they felt in my hands and I watched myself robotically reach up and cup them, squeezing and rolling them in my hands. I pulled her dress top down below her breasts, she was not wearing a bra, seeing those familiar nipples on the overlarge mounds, and I just had to lean forward and take them one at a time between my teeth. She arched her back and moaned -- her nipples were always so sensitive (like her daughter's, my mind guiltily added). Her fingers ran through my hair as my mouth devoured her, my hands squeezing her ass over her silky dress.

She suddenly shoved me back against the wall. There was no nervousness there any more, just a look of triumph, and of animal lust. She ripped my shirt open, and I saw the buttons fly. She raked her nails down my chest and I winced at the pain this caused, this aggressiveness was a new thing from her. She dropped down to her knees and all but tore open my belt and fly, pulling them to my knees, then without any warning she engulfed my entire cock down her throat.

Now, years ago when sex was still happening between us Anna was always reluctant to suck my cock. Now suddenly she was like a mad woman, going crazy bobbing her head up and down over my length making slurping noises and moans of delight. I must admit, this was half a turn off, and half a turn on. While it felt pretty damn good, it broke the illusion of us reliving old times. This wasn't the woman I married, not like I remembered her.

She suddenly stood up and pulled me to her. She kissed me once, wetly, then sat on the counter, leaning back, lifting her dress and tearing off her underwear. Her lipstick was smudged, and she had an odd look in her eye, but I had come too far to stop now. I stepped in and kissed her. She reached down and guided me inside of her. I had to take it slowly, because she was not particularly well lubricated yet. I slipped in and out slowly, just the head first, sliding a little further in each time, each thrust coming easier than the last. Finally I bottomed out inside of her. I began to slide back and forth, looking at her face. Her eyes were closed tightly in concentration, but for some reason I didn't see lust there. I don't know what it was, but not lust.

"That's it, shove your big fat dick up inside my wet hairy pussy. Drill me hard, I am your little slut bitch, oh yeah, baby..." she suddenly began spouting in one long stream of expletives and sexual comments. She had never talked dirty to me before, and it suddenly became quite the turn-on, and I began to pound her hard. She met my thrusts, rocking her ass on the counter, until finally I exploded stream after stream of hot cum inside of her. She screamed and shook against me. I think she could have been cumming, but for some reason I suspect it may have been faked for my benefit.

We clutched at each other, not moving apart, panting, playing spot the difference from when the last time something like this happened between us. She smiled at me, and held me tight, and said, "Now THAT is the big cock that I remembered."

"Wow, I don't remember you being quite that dirty," I replied.

She smiled in a kind-of seductive manner. "You haven't seen anything yet. Take me to bed and I'll show you how dirty I can be."

And I did. And true to her word, she did show me dirty things, sucking, stroking, pulling, grinding -- she offered pretty much anything I wanted. I even turned down a few things -- they weren't my thing at all. Obviously this Joey character had had some effect on her, as she now almost seemed desperate to please, to be my sex toy.

Eventually I pleaded exhaustion, and we fell asleep in the bed together, her arm draped possessively over me. In the morning I woke up first, feeling a little seedy, I must have neglected to drink enough water last night. I slipped out from under her arm, pulled on my pants and went to the kitchen to fix myself a cool glass of water. My feelings were mixed about what had happened the night before. While it had felt pretty damn good, I couldn't help wondering if sleeping with my ex-wife was a good idea. We did divorce for a reason.

Anna broke into my musings by stepping into the kitchen. She looked tired, and her hair and make-up were a mess, but she looked pretty good just wearing my shirt from the night before, with the few remaining buttons barely containing her generous breasts. One nipple peeked hello from the insufficient covering. She smiled at me, showing genuine pleasure (but why do I still see that predatory gleam?) She kissed me gently, and then set about making some coffee for us both. At least this time she was more likely to get it finished.

"Good morning, lover," she said, smiling over her shoulder.

"'Morning," I replied. "Thanks for last night, that was fantastic."

"I thought it was pretty good myself," she purred. She handed me the coffee and I drank it thankfully. My mind briefly wandered to Madeline's coffee that she made for me each morning using our machine -- this instant coffee was nothing in comparison. I briefly wondered if she had enjoyed her own night out.

"So," she said over her coffee, "I am so glad we are seeing each other again. I've missed you."

I squirmed a little uncomfortably. I mean, were we seeing each other again? This was one night, and it felt rude to say anything contradicting her statement, lest it make me look like I was using her for a quickie. Anna seemed to notice my hesitation in replying to her.