The Shed

The Shed

As I flung open the old wooden door, still a bit loose on the lower hinge, two things struck me instantly. Firstly the shed was much smaller than I remembered it - not surprising as I hadn't been in there since childhood. And second - absolutely nothing had changed.

The smell got me first, old and dusty and oh so familiar, evoking strange memories of a lonely childhood spent here, just dreaming. The same garden implements in the corner - the spade and fork my Dad had been so proud of, how he'd loved his garden. The wretched old 'curtain' draped over the window, in truth nothing more than a shirt no longer deemed acceptable by Mum, though I'm sure Dad would have worn it until the day he died given the choice.

And then there was the table. The old table of sturdy oak which he used as a bench.

"Is that it?" opined my daughter critically, finally joining me. "I thought it would be bigger. And what is that grubby old rag in the window?"

I couldn't blame her, I imagine there are quite a few things an 18 year old would rather be doing than emptying the property of her recently departed grandparents.

"Believe me Poppy, however underwhelmed you are right now is nothing compared to my own disappointment."

"You don't look it - you're almost crying."

And she was right. It had finally got to me that they'd gone. But it was the table that had tipped me over...

"Dad, who is GW?"

"I've no idea, why?"

She pointed at some initials carved into the table top, mine and GW's enclosed in a rough approximation of a heart with an arrow passing through it.

"Ah. Ah yes, that's Glenda Williams. She lived next door. I don't think you ever met her, they had moved out by the time you first visited here."

"Did you looove her, Daddy?" she teased.

I stared at the carving, I remembered doing it. How proud I was of that pen-knife. I pretended to look out of the part of the window that wasn't covered, my thoughts racing back to those days. What I wouldn't give to have them again.

"Dad?" she said, suddenly concerned.

"Glenda was 2 years older than me, and quite attractive. Often when I was kicking a ball around on the lawn she would pop her head over the fence. She had a word which always thrilled me. She would simply say: 'Play?'"

"Play? What does that mean?"

"It was our code, it meant she was going to take me to the shed and... and"

"and you fucked her."

"NO, how could you think that? We didn't even know how, it was different then, no internet, no porn nothing."

"So what, you talked about your favourite Beatle or something?"

"She used to wear her school dress, white with blue swirly patterns that the girls wore in the summer. It came to mid-thigh. And white knee length socks with black sandals. Her hair was blonde like yours, but not as nice.

"She would lean against the table and just kind of stand there willing me to do whatever I wanted. I used to kneel in front of her and I can still remember the wonderful aroma that came from her dress when I buried my face into it, right in her private area."

"Her private area? Who are you, Mary Poppins? OK sorry, go on."

Poppy plonked herself on the edge of the table and let her feet dangle.

"Well of course that was the point of no return, I would place my hands on the outside of her thighs and then slide them up her legs, pulling up the hem of her dress at the same time. Now the scent was even stronger, I mean I don't know how nature managed it but someone should bottle that smell.

"So I would plunge my face into her white knickers - always white, and just move my nose up and down like a dog. I really didn't know what I was doing, but her knickers always seemed soaked, almost like she'd wet herself."

Poppy was listening intently, like she used to when I read Harry Potter to her at bed-time.

"And she just stood there and let you do that?"

"Yes. And so I'd venture to the next stage. Behind that damp white fabric lay the answer to...well who knows, but I had to find out. I eased her panties down to her knees and just stared. I mean, it was unbelievable, so beautiful I had to have it in my mouth. I sucked and kissed and generally sloshed around with no clue, but somehow knowing this was where I wanted to spend my life. And then all of a sudden she kind of leaked. Just everything became wet and she was gasping for breath, clinging to the table and bucking her hips forward into my mouth. Then just as suddenly it was over."

"Wow Daddy. You were a horny boy and no mistake. Did you um...you know?"

"I took it out once and she looked totally aghast, like I'd shown her a rattlesnake - albeit it a very beautiful , larger than average one-"

"Of course."

"-and she said 'you don't have to do anything.'"

"You don't have to do anything? That must have been disappointing. Poor Daddy with his beautiful frustrated rattlesnake."

There was a dusty silence, the sort that required a loudly ticking grandfather clock, but there was nothing apart from a very distant motorbike.

"Dad, seriously thank you for that. It's possibly the most open you've ever been with me and I appreciate it."

I blinked a tear away. Lost youth, dead parents, fading memories.

"Shall we finish this in the morning, I fancy something to eat and an early night."

...

I had decided on a methodical approach whereby there would be a pile for keep and a pile for chuck. The chuck pile would be further subdivided into 'for the tip', 'charity shop', and 'sell'.

Well, that's what I intended, within half an hour there was one massive pile of junk on the lawn. I went back inside the shed and was thinking about which pile to put the oak table in when there was a knock on the wooden door.

"Poppy you don't have to knock. OH wha- what happened?"

My daughter stood in the doorway, her hair parted down the middle with a clip either side. She was wearing no make up, a summer dress that was somewhat too short for her, white knee socks and black sandals. I obviously looked puzzled.

"Play?" she said.

My mouth had lost its power of speech.

"Dad, once I step over the threshold, no speaking at all ok?"

I nodded and let her pass.

Poppy leaned against the table and stared at the shirt in the window. As if being drawn by some ancient force I knelt in front of her, barely able to breathe. Temptation won out; I buried my face into her dress - her private area - and inhaled deeply. And there it was again. The aroma that drives men to insane actions, Poppy smelt divinely aroused.

I looked up at her but she kept her gaze fixed on the window. I could see her chest was heaving, she was loving this as much as me.

Gently I placed my hands on her outer thighs - even this was enough to almost send me to premature orgasm, but I kept in control. Slowly I slid my hands up her legs pushing the dress up, gradually exposing her white knickers . As I sunk my nose into her folds she came. Unexpectedly and beautifully. She gasped and her knickers became instantly damp. I moved my nose up and down and I was able to clearly see the outline of her beautiful wet cunt.

Part of me wanted to preserve the moment. After all, who knew if this would ever happen again? But the other part - the horny boy- wanted it all. And now.

I carefully pulled her knickers down her legs, she took a sharp breath and then let them fall to the ground before stepping out of one leg, leaving them dangling on her ankle. Her cunt was bare and more beautiful than I could have imagined. I placed my thumbs on her outer lips and spread them, exposing her throbbing wet clit. I've hopefully learned a few things in the intervening years. I sucked on her clit, responding to her moans, and let my tongue coil down so that it licked her opening, occasionally probing inside with light flicks.

Poppy was in continual ecstasy, and she quickly came again, gripping the table and bucking her hips into my mouth.

As she recovered I threw my arms around her waist and pressed my ear against her hip, still savouring the scent. Eventually it seemed to be over. I stood and made as if to speak.

Poppy put a finger to her lips to shush me, and then pointed at my crotch.

Ah, so the script had changed. I eagerly unleashed my cock which was ready to explode, precum was gushing out of it like a leaking hosepipe.

Poppy looked astonished, in a good way I think.

"You don't have to do anything," she said.

And with that she drew me to her, pulled up her dress and guided my cock between her legs. She proceeded to rock slowly backwards and forwards while my cock slid between her slippery wet cunt lips. Occasionally she would lean back further and tilt her hips until I was technically fucking her, but this wasn't her plan. I decided to kiss her on the mouth, a deep penetrating loving sexy kiss. In a strange way this was more erotic than everything else we had done, to feel my daughter's willing mouth tasting herself on my tongue.

I could feel Poppy welling up for her 3rd orgasm and I wanted to time it exactly right. And it worked. In a marvellous synchronicity we both climaxed together, my cum spurting all over her cunt, her belly. But there was something else, she too had ejaculated. A pool of squirt gushed from her and drenched my slowly relaxing cock. She was struggling to breathe as wave after wave of liquid spasmed out of her and splashed onto the floor.

And now it really was over. We collapsed on the ground and held eachother in total silence for an hour . Eventually Poppy spoke.

"Daddy, can we put the table in the keep pile?"