Frank Duran was a bit drunk and very horny. He just hadn't realized it yet. His 19-year old daughter, Sherry, was the cause of both conditions. She had been topping his glass non-stop with champagne since before dinner, under the excuse of celebrating the start of her summer break from college. Sherry's mom, Mary, was away on a weekend trip with her girlfriends, thus giving Sherry free reign of the house and its other clueless occupant, her dad.
Frank's horny condition was due to a carefully staged seduction campaign that Sherry started early this week. She'd known that her dad was a man with healthy sexual appetite; she'd heard him pleasuring her mom often enough through the thin walls separating their bedrooms. The sound of his muffled guttural groan was erotic music to her ears. Sherry had lost count how many times she masturbated with her dad's image and his voice in her mind. The moment her mom announced her girls' weekend trip, she realized the golden opportunity she presented her. Finally, years of lusting after her daddy and comparing him to those doltish boys she bedded would come to an end. It was time to act on her lust and make it a reality. She wet her lips with anticipation.
Frank paced back and forth in his living room restlessly, clearly at a loss with the uncomfortable condition he's in. He was a handsome man: tall, lean, with a full head of thick dark hair, and at 43 years old, was still in his prime. He vaguely realized that he was pleasantly high from the alcohol, and the restless feeling he'd had all day became more and more insistent. He sighed and stopped next to Sherry's chair, then touched her shoulder lightly. The heat of his palm on her shoulder traveled through her body straight down to her pussy, it quivered with excitement.
"Is something wrong, dad?" Sherry looked up innocently with a soft smile.
"Nothing, honey, I just wished your mom was here," he responded distractedly.
Sherry was seized suddenly with a sense of jealousy so strong; in anger she put down her glass on the side table with a loud 'thunk!, more forcefully than necessary. She sat straighter; thrusting her firm breasts forward, her nipples pushing through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. I'd show you how to forget mom! Sherry thought angrily.
The sound of Sherry's glass hitting the table brought Frank's gaze down to his daughter. He looked down dazedly at the view Sherry's low cut t-shirt presented him. He couldn't take his eyes off her cleavage and the expanse of creamy white skin of her daughter's breasts. For the first time that evening, he noticed her daughter's erect nipples. Goodness, her nipples seemed to react to his stare by growing longer and harder every second he stood there staring. He looked at Sherry and looked away quickly when she caught him staring. She smiled and tugged gently at his hand that was still touching her shoulder.
"You seem restless tonight, dad. Why don't you sit here and let me soothe you?" Sherry suggested and got up from her seat, then promptly maneuvered her dad to sit down on the leather recliner chair.
"My head hurts, and I think I've had too much champagne," he mumbled. Sherry smirked at that and quickly made small soothing sound.
"Poor daddy, would you like me to give you a massage? You know that always soothes your nerves," She offered a bit too helpfully.
"Would you do that for your old man, baby?"
"Don't be silly, dad. You're not that old and of course I would. I love you and want nothing more than to make you happy. You know that, don't you?" She flashed him her big innocent smile that never failed to melt his heart.
He nodded and then sprawled loosely on his chair, giving her full access to his body. His position made his cock stood prominently in front of him; it twitched at the prospect of being touched by his daughter's capable hands. Dimly his mind warned him against feeling too excited about the prospect, but he was too drunk to pay much attention to that warning. His blood hummed with anticipation and he relaxed his body further into the chair.
Sherry picked up the massage oil she had prepared earlier and placed nearby just for the occasion. It's a good thing her daddy was wearing his boxer shorts, less clothes in the way, she thought. She poured oil on her left palm and rubbed her palms together to warm it, then lifted her dad's legs and put them on her thighs for better grip. She started stroking the arch of his feet with her thumbs: a slow and steady caress, back and forth, back and forth. Frank's cock swelled even more at her touch, she could see it clearly through his boxer shorts. Her pussy clenched in response, hot creamy liquid welled in her underwear and she squirmed. She looked at her dad and smiled at the expression of pure bliss on his face. Not too much bliss yet, she thought mischievously. She slowed her thumbs' movement considerably until her dad's eyes opened reluctantly.
"Why did you stop, baby? Keep moving and do my upper legs too while you're at it," Frank ordered impatiently.
"Sorry, dad, I thought you fell asleep," Sherry ducked her head to hide her smile.
"I'm trying to, but the damn air is too still and I'm too hot to fall asleep," he muttered to himself but loud enough for Sherry to hear it.
Sherry quickly moved her fingers' movement up to Frank's muscled calves. She rubbed his calves with gentle force, soothing every jumpy nerve she encountered. Her heart was thumping wildly and her whole body felt so charged with electrifying need and quiet anticipation. Slowly, her fingers crept up to his knees, and then his thighs. He sighed when she poured more oil on his thighs. Her strong fingers smeared the oil all over his thighs, she stroked and kneaded them thoroughly but made sure her fingers went no higher than the edge of his boxer shorts.
