That Summer

Men have sex with men. Men have sex with women, women have sex with women. No farm animals were harmed during the writing of this story everybody's eighteen, blah, blah, blah.

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Last summer. Pandemic summer. My restaurant, barely surviving. I was down to just serving dinner and had to lay off a lot of help which meant I was in there more and doing more. Oh, I'm Jim, 42. It's that kind of story so, six foot two, 200, blond hair, blue eyes. During the good times, I swim with Susan, my wife. She's 41, built like a swimmer—broad shoulders, trim hips, B chest, brunet hair, brown eyes. We met in college on the swim team. Now, I was keeping it fit as best I could since nothing was open. Oh yeah, that, about seven and a half inches, thick, cut shaved. Susan keeps her pussy shaved too.

My wife is a respiratory nurse, being run ragged. She works days, I work nights. We hadn't spent a night in bed together since March. It was June. She'd get home at five. I was gone by three. I'd get home at midnight. She was deep asleep and needing more than she got. I got up at nine. She had been gone for three hours. Mike, our oldest son, is a nurse also, works in the same hospital as Susan, but in a separate area. He lives over on the south side, with all the hip kids.

Into this maelstrom came Molly, our youngest. Dismissed from college early due to, well, you know.

Molly is a younger version of Susan. Same coloring, same size breasts, same personality, also a swimmer. Was on the team, not anymore. She had arrived yesterday afternoon and was in bed by the time I got home. I sleep naked. Fat lot of good it does me these days. I haven't seen my wife's body in months. Usually, since I'm alone, I go have my breakfast nude. It's quite pleasant. Ha Ha, no, I didn't forget and present myself to my daughter naked. I had running shorts and a tee-shirt.

DAY ONE

She was sitting at the island in the kitchen, reading her tablet. Loose sleep shorts and a tee. I did notice and have for a few years that she was not wearing a bra. I'm conflicted, I do check her out, but that's all. She is a beautiful woman. My sex life with my wife is robust and very satisfying, well, it was.

"Hey, dad."

"Mornin kid. How was the drive?"

She laughed and took a sip of coffee, "Like driving on a runway. Nobody on the road. Got here fifteen minutes sooner than usual."

"How's your mom?"

Molly's eyes went wide, "Dad, she's beat. She's got bags under her eyes you could pack clothes in. You don't look so hot either."

I sat with my coffee and bagel, "Yeah, I know. We're getting by. Gotta tell you, it means a lot, you being here. Kind of a bridge between us and helping hand, ya know?"

Molly slipped off the stool and came into my arms, "I'll tell you what I told mom. I'll do whatever needs to be done."

I hugged her, loving the feel of a body-hugging mine, feeling a little guilty. I released her, put my cup and plate in the dishwasher, "Well, I'm going to take you up on that. We've got laundry and some cleaning to do. With both of us, shouldn't take more than an hour."

While Molly cleaned the kitchen, I got a basket and went up to collect the laundry. My stuff from the closet. On my way out of our room, I wondered if Molly had anything, just being nice.

She had two fat suitcases, still zipped, and her shorts and tee from her drive on the floor. I tossed them in and checked her bathroom. Pink panties, balled up next to the shower. I grabbed them and tossed them on top.

The walk down the basement filled my nose with the scent of my daughter's pussy. By the time I put the basket on the washer, I was hard and conflicted. I stood and stared at them, inches from my nose. It's wrong. She's your daughter. But I remembered as she cleaned up breakfast, no lines, no panties under those shorts—that round firm ass. I put my hand over my shorts, holding my erection as I took her panties in my other hand and brought them to my nose, inhaling her musky wonder. I extended my tongue, tasting, imagining. I wanted to masturbate, cum, cum smelling my daughter's panties. No, it's wrong. I tossed them in the washer just as her voice from behind startled me.

"Hey, thanks for grabbing my stuff. I need to unpack."

"No problem."

Molly thumped back upstairs as I exhaled. That could have been very bad.

The rest of the day was uneventful. We got dressed, finished cleaning the house. Went grocery shopping. I took a nap and went to work. Well, one more thing. Before I napped, after I closed and locked the bedroom door, I masturbated. Hadn't done that in weeks and my thoughts, while I stroked, were a guilty pleasure, my orgasm a groaning joy, mumbling the wrong name. It's only masturbation.

Got home late to a quiet house—a note on the door. "Sorry, babe, I'm in the guest room. I may have been exposed. Probably not. We'll know tomorrow." Lovely, just what I didn't need.

DAY TWO

Molly was up first the next morning, sitting at the island. Tank top, old and stretched, and a very tired pair of shorts, too loose and threadbare. I put a bagel in the toaster, poured my coffee, and sat next to her.

"Thanks for helping yesterday. I never get to nap, and it made all the difference."

"No problem, dad. I talked to mom last night about being exposed. She wanted me to stay in my room. I made her dinner and went to my room. When she left to go to the guest room, I cleaned up. You'd think I cured COVID she was so happy."

I laughed, "Molly, you might just save us yet."

She laughed as the toaster dinged, "I got this, dad."

I watched. It was like slow motion. My daughter swung her left leg out to dismount the stool—those old shorts, tired and stretched out. The leg opening wide. A stretch of white muscular thigh and hair. Pubic hair, bushy, brown. And just like that, she was off the stool and getting me my breakfast while I tried to conceal my erection.

Molly came back with a plate and a napkin pinned between her finger and the plate. As she put the plate down, the napkin got loose and fluttered down to the floor.

"Hold on, dad."

She kneeled, the tank top sagged, and there they were. Two perfect breasts, nipples hard, skin so smooth. She snapped up the napkin, and I got my eyes off her breasts.

"Here ya go."

By the time I finished breakfast, my erection had faded. Molly cleaned the kitchen. I fought my urge to watch and went to collect the laundry.

I bumped open Molly's door, expecting to see a heap of laundry. Instead, the room was neat as a pin. She must have done hers while still at college. There were just yesterday's outfit and the g-string. Black, sitting on top of the shorts and tee she wore yesterday. I took that g-string and held it as I loaded the clothes in the basket. Then I put it to my nose. The spot where the triangle met the string. Right where the string would part her pussy lips. Her scent was different from Susan's. I loved it. I didn't care if it was wrong. It was only a sniff.

In the laundry room in the basement, I put her black G-string to my nose again. I could hear her walking around upstairs. I was hard, so very hard. I reached up the leg of my shorts and took out my rigid cock. I masturbated, sniffing my daughter's underwear. I tried to make it last, but I failed. In about two minutes, I was cumming all over the front of the washer. Then I noticed no footsteps. I snapped around, nobody. Then I heard Molly walking again. I wiped up my cum with her undies and tossed them in the wash. Masturbating in the laundry room, not a good idea.

I napped again but had to go in earlier. That night, text from Susan, "all clear, but I will stay in the guest room one more night." Good news. What's the difference anyway. We can't have sex because of our schedules. I got home at eleven-thirty, early, unusual, but my team worked fast that night. The house was dark, so I was quiet. As I walked past Molly's door, I heard her. I've watched her mother masturbate. I knew the sounds. I paused and rubbed my hard cock through my pants. She was cumming, muffled deep gasps, and more. I stopped touching myself and stepped quickly to my bedroom.

DAY THREE

Sitting in the kitchen the next morning, alone. Molly came in wearing a worn-out tee shirt from some boyband she loved as a teenager. It was small on her now and came down just enough to cover her butt and make me curious what undies she had today.

"Hey, dad. You get mom's texts?"

"Yes, she left me a note last night but sent me a text this morning. How is she?"

Molly stepped over to the counter, "A couple of good night's sleep, and she is so much better, happier."

"See, kid, you did some cleaning, shopping, cooked a meal or two. You saved us."

Molly reached up to get a cup, "I told you, dad, whatever it takes."

A thong under that tee shirt. Purple. The thin strip of fabric tight between the flanks of her firm, perfect ass. My penis swelled in my shorts. Molly dropped back down, poured my coffee, and delivered my bagel.

"Be right back, dad."

I was taking the last sip of my second cup of coffee when she came back in and grabbed my cup and plate, "Time to clean up. Go do your chores, sir. If you're caught up on your sleep, maybe we can watch a movie."

My daughter took my cup and plate from my hands, pivoted, and bent to put them in the dishwasher.

Nothing. Nothing under that tee shirt now. Just the firm round mounds of my daughter's ass with a tuft of fur just visible at the apex. She took a second to rearrange. I left the kitchen, hiding my erection. This is killing me.

With a basket of laundry in my arms, I stood and stared. In the movies, it would have had a glowing circle around it. The purple thong, lying, perfectly arranged in her doorway. The gusset facing me, darker. I looked over my shoulder, then put the basket down and picked up my daughter's underwear and put the gusset in my mouth. She had cum in it. It was soaked. She tasted wonderful. This was a gift to me—a wrong gift. As I stroked my penis while tasting her, I noticed her bed, open, covers thrown back. A big dark spot in the middle, big. I felt my cum rising as I thought, 'she must cum a lot.' I doubled over as I came, quickly holding her soaked thong and cumming on the gusset. It was so wrong, but it felt so good. It's our little secret. I can play this game. It'll work till things get more regular. It's only masturbation. I said it to myself again, hoping I might believe it the second time. I left the thong on her floor, knowing.

Susan had re-made the guest room bed. Perfect as usual. I put the laundry in the basement and went upstairs. Molly was on the couch wearing one of my old dress shirts.

"Where you going?"

"Gonna get dressed."

"Nah, never mind that. Let's watch a movie and talk."

I was a little uncomfortable sitting next to my daughter on the couch in only a tee shirt and a pair of worn running shorts. Molly clicked on some Rom-com and snuggled up to me. There were two open buttons, not enough to see anything but the swell of her breasts under the fabric and the points of her nipples. The tails were long enough to go halfway down her thighs, leaving me wondering. I watched the TV, not wanting to embarrass myself.

"How's college?"

Molly clicked off the movie and went searching. "I've seen that one. It's boring. Well, I love college. It was great till this fucking virus. Swim team was great, classes great, friends, all good."

I nudged into the shoulder she had up against mine, "Boyfriends?"

Molly looked up, catching my eye, "Getting a little personal there, dad?"

I laughed, "Not my intent, just wondering how many guys my beautiful daughter had to fend off to keep that 3.0 average."

Her searching had her up in the pay-per-view channels now, "Well, I'll tell you, but you have to let me know when I've gone too far. You know, TMI."

I put my arm around her, letting my fingers wrap over her shoulder, "Well, I'm an adult, Molly. Try me."

Molly stopped on some steamy adult romance movie. The sound was high and, as she adjusted it down, I just caught her whisper, "I am too, be careful what you offer." I don't think she knew she said it out loud.

"Well, I looked forward to college life. My high school experiences with boys, including the loss of my virginity my senior year, had been unremarkable."

Wow, she didn't waste any time, "Um, my daughter, you sure you want to share all this?"

She looked up at me with a magnetic smile, "TMI already?"

Okay, that was a challenge. Being male, I naturally react by accepting.

"I'm okay if you're okay."

I opened the rhetorical door, and my daughter strolled in.

"We're adults, dad. It's okay. I'm thirsty. You want a soda?"

"Yeah, that's nice."

She popped up off the couch. The shirt behaved, much to my dismay, and kept her covered. She was back in a minute with two cans of soda and one more button undone. She carefully handed me a can and settled back next to me, giving me no view.

"So, I don't know why, but I thought college men would be men. They're not. They are boys in college. The same sort of shallow, self-absorbed kids I was fending off at Millard Filmore High. I have needs, and a relationship is a lot of work. Particularly when I have to do all that work."

"Well, since we are being so adult, why don't get a, what do you all call it, a fuckbuddy?"

Molly snorted in her soda, "DAD! Really? I cannot believe my father would suggest such a thing."

I shrugged, "Well, I hear it's a thing. You get a friend, who I guess isn't relationship material but is good at satisfying you, right?"

Molly laughed, "Yeah, that's the pitch. I have a few friends that tried that. Not as advertised. Short story, they're married and cheating, or quick shooters, ya know? No. Like you, I'm stuck being celibate and employing the age-old solution."

My daughter put her can of soda down and snuggled up to me, "What I need is someone like my dad. Smart, funny, caring, romantic, mature, and in tune with a woman's sexual needs."

I looked around the room, "What? Who's that guy? And just what do you know about that last part?"

"I grew up in this house, and I have excellent ears. Say no more."

The movie was starting. Must be Pay per view because the opening scene had the two characters making out like crazy as they piled through a hotel room door. Kissing and groaning, taking off their clothes. I shifted, and my hand landed on the outside of my leg, up against Molly's. I fought the reflex to move it when I got no response. In a few seconds, her hand was on her leg, touching mine. The action on-screen heated up—breasts and butts and moaning. Molly jumped up. Hopefully, not in a reaction to the erection I was fighting.

"You got the AC on Nome or something? It's freezing in here."

"Helps us sleep. Sorry, go turn it higher."

Molly grabbed a fleece blanket, "Nah, we can use this."

She snuggled back up to me, spreading and pulling up the blanket. Managing all that with only a quick flash of green from under the shirt. She snuggled up right next to me, our legs in complete contact. I felt guilty, wary, curious, and horny.

On the screen, the man was doing an R version of licking her pussy. She, of course, was doing an R version of loving it. Molly sighed and lay her hand on my thigh, just above my knee, "See, that's what I need. I need that guy to stop by once a week."

The guy was my age. I put my hand just above her knee and laughed lightly, "He's old, nearly my age. He'd never keep up with you."

Molly ran her hand along my thigh for about six inches, back and forth, "I'd love to have him try."

I did the same to her thigh. Her hand was still a ways away from my ridiculously hard cock, and as I moved my hand, I stayed south of her center. It was nice being touched in this way by a woman, even if it was my daughter. My guilt and fear were manifest, my needs in conflict.

"It's the movies, my daughter, not real life."

Her hand kept up its motion, moving up a little. I mimicked, letting my fingers trace the smooth skin on the inside of her thigh. Her breathing got deeper. I felt her other leg move out. My heart rate was picking up. I should stop this. I'm the real adult. Susan would kill me if she knew. My hand didn't leave.

She leaned her head on my shoulder, "Yeah, I know. I just want some guy I can trust who cares enough to satisfy me. I know a lot of my girlfriends don't like sucking and hate the taste. I sure don't. Gotta be a guy that wants that."

Her pinky was getting very close to the edge of the leg of my shorts and the head of my hard cock.

I laughed nervously, "Yeah, there are, but they're married."

She looked up at me, "S'ok, I just want to borrow them."

I had not been paying attention to my hand until my big fat pinky felt cotton. I froze. Molly's pinky was just touching the leg of my shorts.

"I don't think their wives would like that."

Her finger toyed with the hem of the leg of my shorts, "Well, I could help them too. Or maybe they could watch."

My breathing was difficult. I could feel the edge of her thong, right at the crease in her thigh. She'd have sex with a woman? This was some TMI day.

Molly's phone went off, and we both jumped afoot. Our hands shot back like we'd been caught. It was Susan. Molly talked briefly and closed the call. We were panting.

"Mom needs some form she left here. She called me, didn't want to wake you. I'm gonna go and deliver it."

"Sounds good. I think I'll nap."

Molly leaned over and kissed me, right on the corner of my mouth, "Yeah, nap. Good idea."

She slipped out from under the blanket. I swear she did it so I could keep my hard cock covered. As the blanket dropped down, a waft of air came out, filled with the scent of her pussy.

Molly left. I showered and lay naked on my bed, stroking my hard cock, thinking about what my daughter's pussy would feel like, taste like, cum like. I came hard and felt no guilt. My daughter was leading me, asking me, needing me. It'll be our secret till Susan, and I get back in sync.

Cases were finally dropping. More people felt comfortable going out to eat. We had a busy and late night. I sent a text to Molly and Susan saying I'd be home around twelve-thirty.

I got in at twelve-forty and padded to my room naked, pausing at Molly's door. Silence. I showered and slipped into bed next to my naked wife. I couldn't resist. I touched her firm ass. She was lying on her side, one leg pulled up. I moved my hand between her legs. She was wet, so wonderfully wet. She must have masturbated.

DAY FOUR

I woke the next morning. Somebody was in bed with me. I rolled over and found myself looking at my daughter in a thong and tee-shirt, lying on top of the sheet, staring at me.

"You're beautiful when your sleeping, dad."

I laughed lightly, "Beautiful. Okay."

She had her head propped up on one arm, "Really, I've watched my father forever. Mowing the lawn, watching TV, hugging mom." She paused, "And showering and changing."

On my side, head on a couple of pillows, not sure I heard that, "what?"

Molly blushed, "you heard me. It was only once. The door wasn't shut all the way. You pulled back the curtain, and there you were. I was fascinated. I'd never seen a naked man, and here was my favorite. I stayed there as you dried yourself. Your strong hands holding your penis and balls with the towel. I ran away when you moved towards the door. Another time I saw you leave the bathroom after a shower. You had a towel around you. You were in a hurry, and the bedroom door didn't latch. I watched you drop the towel, adjust your soft cock and balls. You got your briefs and slid them up your legs, covering your penis, hiding it from my view."

"I never knew."