Note: this story has been written many, many years ago and got lost somehow. I just found it again and decided to publish it anyway. English isn't my first language, and I apologize for the mistakes.
I groaned out loud as my wife was squeezing the base of my cock with her impressive pussy muscles. "Stop that Jonathan! You're going to wake Elly!" She whispered, smiling. She was on top of me, naked and sitting straight above and around my cock. Covered in sweat, long gold-red hair plaster all over her neck and shoulders, with a grin on her face the size of the crescent moon. She had just made me cum for the third time tonight and was mightily proud of it. Her big, large breasts still had the red marks my fingers left a few minutes earlier. So did her ass, most likely. After a few minutes regaining our breathing, Helena got up and went to the bathroom to clean up.
Since Helena dyed her hair three weeks ago, our sex life took a sharp turn for the best. Somehow seeing herself as a redhead, albeit a golden one since her natural colour is blonde, was making her extremely horny. For the seven or eight years before that small change, our sex life had been on a steadily declining slope. Our nightly romps came farther and farther apart, while their intensity and variety was also dwindling. But as it stood now, I was a really happy man.
I always has been into full grown women: don't give me those adolescent-looking girls with no hips and small little breasts. My wife at 38 was still one vividly beautiful woman: big breasts that were still fighting gravity pretty decently, large round hips and an equally round ass, and not to forget: those powerful thighs of hers. This is what had caught my eye (and my cock's attention) back at college, and this is why the new bloom in our sex life was so wonderful. Work, Elly's rocky adolescence and 17 years of marriage had put a dent into the passion we had known through our first ten years together.
A dent in Helena's passion, I must specify: I was still as horny as when I was a young man. I never cheated on Helena, but without the internet I would have ruined myself on porn. As it was I had a very full secondary hard-drive stuffed with every kind of movies. As I enjoyed fully developed women, most of the movies have been chosen on that criteria. But for variety's sake I also downloaded movies with interracial sex, legal teens, older women, BBW and even a few gay movies. Didn't watch those last very much, but who knew when my tastes could broaden up?
But during those last few years, I stopped watching teen movies: my daughter has been steadily transforming into a nice young woman. Despite my wife's and my own girth, Elly was a slim girl, thin, with smallish although nicely rounded breasts, slight hips and thin, model-like legs. I don't know how she managed to have that body. I'm a 6'2", 260 pounds man and my wife had more curves at fourteen than Elly's ever likely to have. A complete mystery. She had my eyes and nose, as well as my straight black hair, so she was mine; no doubt about that.
Anyway, seeing older men making love to girls that had bodies much like Elly's... Well, it was too borderline for me. I couldn't help looking at her around the house or the pool, wearing skimpy bikinis or tight pants... Damn it! she could have *been* in those movies. Strange how kids these days dress, move and tease much like the porn-stars of 15 years ago! I had felt my cock stirring a few times, watching her get out of the pool. I felt weird, but on the other hand I knew that it was perfectly natural: a tight and young girl nearly naked, the more so as her nipples clearly showed through the thin and small patches of spandex on her breasts, and that just *had* to shave her pussy because there's now way that a white bikini bottom so thin would hide any of her pubes.
It was natural that my body reacted, but I knew it was also quite wrong. Each time this happened my face turned red; not from excitement but from shame. What kind of dirty father was I to look at my daughter like this? On the other hand I probably wasn't all that bad because I knew she really liked me. As opposed to most of her friends, she had told me, she could talk to me about most things and loved hugging me or watch a movie in my arms. Yet these days our intimacy was beginning to bother me... It was getting more and more troubling.
Picture this: a nubile young girl, sexually opened and experienced (I guessed, although she had never spoken about it with me), wearing nothing but a tank top and panties lying across your lap while watching a movie. She was my daughter, I wasn't especially into thin girls, nor young girls... But what was I to do? Even now that she was 18 and fully legal and responsible for herself, she was still my daughter! Would be still at 50 years old!
I snapped myself out of my reverie. Helena was now back from the bathroom and she even washed my cock and balls with a warm towel before curling up against me. She was snoring softly two minutes later. I don't know how she could do that: after intense sex, unlike most men, I wasn't able to sleep for a good long while. Thinking back about Elly, I considered the current events that had pushed those troubling thoughts from my mind.
She had just come home from a three week stay at the hospital. A bad mono case that had seen two major complications. I couldn't even remember the names of those complications, only that Elly had come close to dying when she was first brought to the hospital. I remembered carrying her from the car to the urgency ward, realizing how thin and frail she was. The first week had been nerve-racking, incredibly difficult has she had hovered between life and death for two days.
And now, her third day back from the hospital and supposedly out of harm's way, she was sleeping somewhere between 14 and 16 hours a day. Barely eating, she read while awake and couldn't really get out of bed on her own. Concerned, I gently got up from the bed and walked to her room. The door opened without making any noises, but I knew that even if it had, Elly would most likely have slept through undisturbed.
She was there, sleeping soundly on her back. Her breathing was shallow but regular: that what the doctor had asked us to check. As long as she was breathing regularly, things were good. As I did the first two nights, I entered and sat the on the chair at the foot of her bed. It was frustrating to know that I couldn't do anything to help except carry her around. Helena was taking care of her personal needs: going to the bathroom, bathing, dressing her... In her current state I don't think Elly would have minded if I did some of those things, but since Helena was here anyway...
But all that was about to change. The following morning she received a phone call, an invitation to a seminar. As a speaker. She was teaching sociology at the local college, where we met as students 19 years earlier, and they informed her that she had been invited at the last minute to replace another speaker. Great! the chance she had been waiting for! But also bad: the seminars were held across the country! She would have to stay there two full days and nights.
We talked about it and decided that it was ok. I would be able to care for Elly for those two days, not even having to give her a bath unless something messy happened. Even Elly understood the situation and was happy for her mother, knowing how much she had been hoping for such an opportunity. Elly smiled, the first time since she got back home, and whished her the best of luck. Heck, she even joked about my taking care of her. "I think Dad would be more embarrassed then me if he had to give me a bath!" I laughed with her, but I also knew that she was right.
Helena left the following day. Elly had been awake early in the morning and was in pretty good shape. She hugged her mom and wished her luck again. Elly was at her strongest in the mornings, and after that she would become more and more tired. As Helena had given her a bath the previous evening, I didn't have to worry about that. And worried I would have been: Elly insisted on taking her baths alone at first but in less than five minutes she was exhausted from washing herself. So I knew that if something happened that would force me to give her a bath, a lot of unanswered questions would pop up.