My Only Daughter Ch. 04

Charlotte and her friends spent the whole day at the water. I stood on my deck and watched them enjoying one of the last days of summer. They’d all be going back to school in a week or so, and I dreaded it.

The house behind me seemed quiet already. And I was lost in thoughts of cold winter nights when I heard the doorbell ring.

I was dressed in khaki shorts with nothing underneath, an old oxford shirt of mine that Charlotte had put on earlier that morning. It smelled like summer perfume, and I had a strange sensation of youth. I was holding a cold beer when I opened the door.

I was Kennedy’s mom, Stacey. She pushed me aside with a wry smile on her face, walked into the den and took a deep breath.

“Smells like fish in here,” she said.

“It’s the beach, Stace,” I said. “It smells like this all the time.”

She walked to the couch where her own daughter had slept the night before, and she sensed something else as she closed her eyes and took another deep breath.

“Smells like sex too,” she said, smiling at me.

“It smells like that all the time here too,” I said, winking at her and walking into the kitchen. “What are you doing here anyway? Care for a drink?”

“I just came to pick up Kennedy,” she said. “We’re going into Wilmington to go shopping. Her dad’s feeling guilty I think. I have his credit card.”

Stacy had divorced her husband not long before Sally and I split. We’d been good friends for years, growing up in Raleigh and sharing vacations and hosting block parties and going to school functions when the girls were young.

Stacey and Sally were best friends. Charlotte and Kennedy were best friends. The husbands? Not so much. Bill was a lawyer of the worst kind, the lawyer who was on your phone book and always on your television promising to sue on your behalf, acting like an important person when in reality he was an ambulance chaser nobody liked.

So I hung out with Sally and Stacey, coached Little League and hosted cookouts and swim-team parties and lived the good life.

At least until the night I found Sally in a parking lot, sucking and fucking a stranger on the hood of her car. Things spiraled down after that.

Stacey was at my house three days after my divorce was final.

And here she was again, wearing a sundress with no bra, barefoot, blonde and beautiful, a 41-year-old model of her daughter, who I’d left in a pool of her own cum on the very couch Stacy now stood beside.

“Make me a mimosa,” she said. “Where are the girls?”

I nodded out the back door, and Stacey breezed past me, popping me on the ass as I leaned into the refrigerator.

“Have you been working out?” she chirped, opening the screen door and walking out to the edge of the deck.

Towels were draped over the chairs and various bathing suit tops and bottoms were hanging from the rails and the hangers blowing in the wind.

“Is this where the party was?” she yelled to me. “Was anyone dressed?”

“I was at the club,” I said. “I missed all the fun.”

I came walking out with a drink and another beer, letting the wind blow open my shirt and standing beside Stacey as we watched our daughters and their friends on the beach below.

“Are we getting old?” Stacey asked.

I didn’t answer.

“I think we still look good,” she said.

I put my arm on her back and slid it down to her ass.

“You look great, Stace,” I said. “You always do.”

She turned to me and cocked her head, her sunglasses perched on her head, blue eyes sparkling. She put her arms around me and squeezed her breasts to my bare chest. She kicked one foot in the air behind her and turned her head to the side, hugging me tighter.

“I’ve met someone,” she said quietly.

I put my hands on her shoulders and pried her away enough to look into her eyes.

“Who is he?” I asked.

“She,” Stacey said.

Then she held me closer.

“I think I’m losing my mind,” she said. “You can’t tell a soul.”

I kissed her on her head. Neither of us noticed the girls coming up the boardwalk. We were arm in arm, smiling as the girls halkalı escort bounded up the steps.

“Hey mom!” Kennedy yelled as Stacey waved silently.

“I don’t know how to tell her,” she said without moving her lips.

I popped her on her ass and walked into the kitchen.

“Then don’t,” I said.

Charlotte walked in carrying a towel and beach bag, her bikini covered in an old Carolina football jersey cut off just below her breasts.

“What did I miss?” she asked, sensing something in the air.

“I’ll tell you later,” I said without moving my lips.

Kennedy and her mom were still outside as the other girls and a couple of guys walked in chattering, each of them having claimed a stray piece of swimwear from the deck.

“Thanks Mr. B,” they all said one by one, the weekend coming to an obvious end and summer not far behind it. “We had a great time.”

I shook the guys’ hands and hugged the girls one by one as they all went out the front door carrying towels and bags and chairs and coolers. We stood on the front porch as they loaded the cars, the boys fastening down surf boards and the girls slipping into impossibly tight jean shorts and loose-fitting t-shirts.

I was going to miss them.

Stacey and Kennedy came out pulling a suitcase and a load of wet clothes.

“Here,” I said, reaching for the suitcase.

“No,” Stacey said. “I’ve got this. Don’t be such a man.”

She was winking at me behind her shades. Kennedy gave me a sideways glance then smiled and kissed me on the lips.

“You’re the best Mr. B,” she said, throwing her arms around Charlotte and whispering something. They both giggled.

“Go Heels!” she said, high-fiving Charlotte, who repeated it back.

“See you at school!” Kennedy said, bouncing down the steps and into her mom’s car.

They drove out to the road, took a left and disappeared, a horn blast sounding in the distance.

“They’re so weird,” Charlotte said, smiling at me.

“You have no idea,” I said.

I sighed and looked around the yard. It was empty. No college kids, no cars, no surfboards, no noise, just the sound of the surf crashing far behind us.

“Daddy, what are you going to do here all by yourself?” she said, snuggling next to me, sliding a long tanned arm around me and pulling me tight. “You need a girlfriend.”

“That’s the last thing I need,” I said, putting my arm around my beautiful young daughter.

The sun was getting lower in the sky and I suddenly realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Charlotte was still staring into the empty yard.

“What were you guys talking about?” she asked. “Kennedy and I were watching you. She wants you guys to get together you know.”

“That’s not happening,” I said. “Especially not now.”

I popped her on her ass and walked back inside. Charlotte’s eyebrows were up as she followed me in,

“What’s going on?” she asked.

I pulled a cold beer out of the refrigerator and picked up my cellphone.

“How does Chinese sound for dinner?” I asked.

“Daddy,” Charlotte said, her voice rising. “What did she say to you?”

Charlotte had her hand on her hip. Her head cocked and a stern look on her face. She looked just like her mother.

“I can’t tell you,” I said. “Not yet.”

Charlotte looked at me and squinted.

“Just tell me you two haven’t…”

“No,” I said. “Nothing is going on between us. I just can’t tell you right now. I promised.”

Charlotte put her tongue under her front lip and looked at me in deep thought.

“If i guess will you tell me?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“Is it another woman?” Charlotte asked, her lips closed, her eyes locked onto mine.

“Why would you ask that?” I said, a little too quickly.

“Her name’s Abby,” Charlotte said. “Kennedy knows all about her. Her mom thinks she’s being sneaky. We know everything.”

“You knew she was with another woman?” I asked.

“Dad,” Charlotte said. “She’s always been with other women. You don’t know anything do you?”

I shook my head, stared at my beer harbiye escort bottle and looked up slowly at Charlotte. My thoughts were all over the place.

Charlotte was smiling at me.

“Maybe you need to sit down Daddy,” she said. “You need to get caught up on things.”

***

I never called in Chinese. I drank another beer and tried to follow Charlotte’s amazing story. She was curled up on one of the chairs in the den as I paced and heard one stunning detail after another.

“What do you think she and Mom were doing all those nights?” she said.

I was speechless.

“Kennedy’s mom was at our house every night. That didn’t strike you as odd?”

Charlotte was unraveling a long-hidden tale. It was all news to me. My wife and Stacey had been having lesbian sex for years right under my nose. And I had no idea.

“Mom’s a lot more adventurous than you realize, Dad,” she said. “And there’s nothing wrong with a little adventure.”

She’d gotten up from the chair and come into the kitchen, still dressed in her bikini and cutoff jersey. I was sitting at the island sipping another beer, starting to feel a little drunk and my head swirling with images of Sally and Stacey.

Charlotte kissed me on the cheek.

“You want to hear the rest?” she asked, a sneaky smile on her face and her eyes suggesting something was coming.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Do I?”

She smiled wide and put her hand on my arm.

“You need to know it all Daddy.”

I suddenly stood up and walked away, red-faced and flushed, walking to the den and rubbing my neck. I looked across the room at her. She was nodding her head.

“I need a shower,” I said.

I walked upstairs in a fog, stepped into a lukewarm shower and let it wash over me. I just stood there and imagined what was coming next. Deep down, I knew.

She was on my bed when came out, the towel wrapped around me, my hair still dripping. Charlotte was still in her bikini bottom and the cutoff jersey, but her bikini top was in the floor. She was fluffing the pillows on my bed. Only a table light was on. She was drinking a beer and humming.

I just stood there watching her, thinking how much she looked like her mother, how beautiful she was, how the bottom of her tits barely showed under the light blue jersey.

“Come lie back Daddy,” she said without looking at me. “It’s not that bad, I promise.”

I sat on the bed then leaned back against the pillows. Charlotte put her beer down then crawled on her knees next to me. She stroked my hair slowly and began.

“Mom taught me everything,” she started. “She told me everything and showed me everything.

“I’ve wanted to tell you this for so long. I’ve come so close to telling you.”

I held my breath.

“Tell me what?” I asked.

“Dad, I’ve been with Mom,” she said, lying down and putting her head on my thigh, which was now open as the towel began to move. “I’ve been with Kennedy, and I’ve been with her mom. And we’ve all been together.”

I exhaled as she peered up from my lap, a sad smile on her face. I looked down at her and stroked her hair. My cock was beginning to grow.

“It’s a beautiful thing, Daddy,” she said. “Mom awakened me to a new world. I had no idea sex could be so sensual, so intoxicating, so soft.”

She was rubbing the inside of my thigh with her long painted fingernails. She was staring at the towel as it twitched. I was breathing hard, stroking her blonde hair and trying to picture her and Sally in bed together. I was straining to keep my cock from popping through the towel when Charlotte slipped her hand under the flap and opened it.

My cock sprang free and I inhaled quickly.

My daughter was inches from my raging hard-on, telling me the story of her and her mom, her friend and her friend’s mom, all of whom I’d been with in one way or another. My back tensed as my cock began to throb. Charlotte caressed the bottom of the shaft with a fingernail, watching it twitch and redden.

“Mom used to let me watch you,” she said dreamily, running her fingernail up ikitelli escort my shaft, softly grabbing my cock and sliding her hand up and down, slowly and with intense sensuality.

She was incredible. She was better than Sally.

I opened my legs as she slid her hand under my balls and stroked them slowly, softly, blowing her hot breath into my open crotch.

“I love you Daddy,” she whispered.

“I love you baby,” I said as she slowly moved over my cock, kissing the wet tip, licking a drop of precum off and softly moaning.

“Mmmmmm,” she said quietly, sliding the hot head of my cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and sucking more precum. Charlotte’s velvet mouth was incredible. She let saliva drip down the shaft, letting it slide onto my balls as she took her time, worshipping my throbbing cock, sliding her hand under my balls.

I leaned back farther, my head touching the headboard as she adjusted my legs, spreading them apart as her hand slid underneath me.

I arched my back and lifted my hips as she slid a finger to my asshole and took my entire cock into her mouth.

“God,” I whispered. “Suck me baby. Suck Daddy’s cock.”

Charlotte quivered and began to suck me hard, bobbing up and down on my rock-hard shaft, wetting it more and more, making a slurping, sloppy sound as I moved my hips up and down.

Her finger entered me from below. I gasped.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, grabbing a handful of her hair and moving her head up and down on my cock. “God yes, fuck me Charlotte.”

I was bucking on her finger, my eyes closed and in her control when I felt her rise off my cock. I opened my eyes as she took the jersey off and untied both sides of her bikini. It fell to the bed as she crawled on her knees to straddle me.

I grabbed her face and she lunged at me, grabbing my head with both her arms, kissing me hard, the taste of my cock in her moist wet mouth. I felt her raise her hips and settle onto my cock, sliding it in with no hands, expertly, moaning as she slid down my shaft, her pussy muscles tightening and releasing, controlling her short slide into my lap.

My cock touched the deepest walls of her pussy, pressing against the hot center of her cervix, feeling the soft tissue of her deepest spot.

She shuddered.

“Fuck me Daddy,” she said. “Fuck your daughter.”

She rode me harder, her nipples grinding my chest, exciting her even more. I thought of Sally and her sensitive nipples and remembered how she’d taught her daughter the inexplicable power in her sensitive nipples. I pinched them and Charlotte gasped. I pinched harder as she began to buck wildly on my cock, coming in a gushing wave, the wet juice pouring out of her and into my lap.

Her eyes were rolled back and her tongue was slightly out of her mouth. I pinched her nipples until they were raw, and Charlotte made an animal sound, grinding down into my lap and cumming again.

She was in a trance, fucking her father in a state of bliss, soaking my bed as she came again and again.

Then suddenly she rose off my cock and pushed me back onto the bed, straddling her way toward me, hovering her soaking wet pussy just above my face.

“Stroke your cock Daddy,” she cooed.

I felt the heat from her hot drenched pussy as I reached down and grabbed my slickened cock. She grabbed my head and moaned, exhaling as she closed her eyes and leaned her head completely back.

I felt a warm stream of liquid hit my face as my back arched. I began to cum as warm, golden clear water splattered all over me, drenching me as I shot ropes of cum to her back and ass, long strands of hot semen, dripping down her back and onto my stomach as she peed and came and lowered herself onto my face, grinding down hard and reaching her hands to the headboard.

“Eat me!” she said in a voice I’d never heard. “God yes, Daddy. Eat me!”

She came again as she slid her engorged clit down across my chin, pressing it hard before sliding all the way down until her mouth was on mine, licking me all over my face, holding my head and licking me from ear to ear.

She nestled her body onto mine, her long legs going limp as she held me tight and fell into a deep sleep.

I lay in our wetness and held her damp body close to me. I floated into thoughts of summers past, the smell of our sex filling the room, the memory of her mother filling my dreams.