A Night To Remember/Chapter One

A Night To Remember

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Chapter One

The wife and I returned from the theatre a little pissed. Well, I was just pissed but she was falling down shitfaced, so I helped her to the bed where she fell in face first and passed out. It was fun trying to wrestle her around while I figured out where all the little latches and buttons were and soon decided she didn't need to wear her night clothes. Now, the two most important things on my agenda were a hard pee and a stiff whisky and in that order.

After I put on my dressing gown, I went to lower my water level and nothing happened; it just wouldn't come out for me. While I stood and waited, Michelle merrily popped into the loo and froze when she saw my cock hanging out over the pan. She looked kind of desperate the way she held her crotch and danced from foot to foot.

Having one loo had its disadvantages sometimes with a family of girls, plus two extras since Michelle and her sister Sandra were sleeping over. I couldn't pee, so I closed my gown and told her, "Go on Mickie, I can't get my water started."

She seemed disappointed that I tucked myself away and gave me a sappy smile as she dropped her knickers and sat on the cold porcelain bowl; then realized her mistake and jumped up to drop the seat. She was a handsome girl, though a bit boyish without many curves yet. The perky little bumps that nudged out the top of her chemise caught my eye. When she noticed my stare she crossed her arms over her chest but left her podgy pud on display.

It was hard for me to imagine that she was related to her sister; they were so different. Her short brown hair was cut in a shaggy bob that barely grazed her shoulders and she had these giant brown pools for eyes. They were so large, they didn’t look real. You could say they were doe-like and if you looked into them long enough you could get lost.

I’m not sure if she was into athletics but she always gave me the impression that she was the well muscled, rough and tumble type who was into running and possibly football. Not as girly and feminine as her sister.

The poor girl was desperate for a pee which went on forever and when she finished, she just sat there on the seat and stared at me for the longest time. When I looked down I noticed what caught her eye. A little tent had formed on the front of my gown so I cinched the belt up and when she tried to stand, she wavered a little and plopped back down on the seat, then she started to giggle.

Very unusual behaviour for her, but since I still needed to go myself, I tried to urge her along with, “If you don’t mind, I am bursting here,” and extended my hand to help her up.

She wrapped her hand around my wrist and pulled herself up a little but was more than a little wobbly on her feet. So, I pulled her knickers up for her and urged her out the door so I could find some relief myself.

With that out of the way, I went in search of my whisky, so I could have another drink before I called it a night. Problem was, my bottle was missing. I didn’t remember finishing it and thought there might be a spare in the cupboards somewhere; but there was none to be found. Then it occurred to me, Mickie was acting strange because she was a little tipsy. “Bugger,” I thought, “Jen pinched my bottle again.”

When I walked into Jen's room, all three girls were seated tailor fashion in a circle on her bed like little angels; little loopy angels with crooked smiles. It didn't help that Jen and Sandy's knickers were missing, so I cinched my gown down double tight to keep things under control. I asked, “You wouldn’t happened to have seen my bottle of whisky around, would you?"

Even though they tried to appear innocent and shrugged their shoulders at me, Jen had to cover her mouth to hold in a snigger. I saw Mickie’s eyes dart to the cupboard and when I looked, there was my bottle; half empty. The girls must be shitfaced if they drank that much.

When Jen saw me pick up the bottle, she remarked, “I can’t imagine how it got there.”

I raised my eyebrows at her and said, “Must have been the whisky fairy then who drank half the bottle.”

Jen was more than a bit unsteady when she tried to stand and showed me quite a bit of her fur rimmed clam as she climbed off the bed. At fourteen, my daughter only had a little puff of hair at the top of her split and a few stray strands around the lips. Her little titties were nothing more than teacups with a hard little rubber in the centre. The biggest problem I had was resisting her advances on me when she wanted something. Her little fanny and titties were powerful weapons.

She stumbled over to me and grabbed my gown when she lost her footing, then asked, “You’re not going to go mad, are you?”

"I'm not mad, but I can’t believe you drank half the bottle between you.”

“It wasn’t exactly full… hick… and Mickie didn’t have much.”

Then all three of them broke out in a flurry of giggles and I thought it was the drink at first until I saw where my daughter’s eyes were pointed. When she had stumbled and grasp my gown, it had parted enough for my beast to escape and old willy had assumed a somewhat horizontal position and pointed at her. Mickie slumped into her sister and I plainly heard, “Boner...” before she put her hand over her mouth.

Jen looked down at my cock and said, “Mickie said you had a boner when she saw you in the bath,” then she wrapped a hand around me and squeezed.

My daughter almost never did anything like that when her friends were around. Since we had started fucking almost four years ago, she had become very possessive and didn’t want her friends to watch us have sex. There were a few exceptions but it was not often.

Sandy and Mickie were our neighbours and they had been friends for the last couple of years since they moved to our estate. They didn’t sleep over that often; maybe a dozen times since they’ve been here, but when they did, Sandy teased me mercilessly. She shared a lot of traits with my daughter and one of them was the need to get a rise out me; if you gather my meaning.

When they slept over, they never brought a night dress or new clothes. If they wore anything to bed it was usually a chemise or camisole. For some reason, they were more concerned about keeping their boobies modest than their fanny. I never quite understood the reasoning, but Mickie was the only one who wore knickers.

My daughter rarely wanked me but she did it now and it didn’t take long for me to pop a full throbber. She gave me a devilish grin and seemed very pleased with herself, then squeezed me again and asked, “You’re not mad are you?”

I groaned and sort of muttered, “Of course I’m not mad. Should you be doing this in front of your friends?”

What she was doing to me felt very nice and the audience made it excruciatingly pleasurable. She answered, “They both wanted to see your boner and I told them I would show it to them.”

Sometimes my daughter had the devil in her; but I liked it when she did. She squeezed and lovingly stroked me, then pressed her lips to mine and whispered, “I’m burning up and need this inside of me.”

I whispered back, “Would you like to go to the lounge?”

She uttered a simple, “No!” and tugged me by the cock to her bed. The girls made way and she fell on her back and pulled me between her legs.

We had been fucking for so long my cock knew exactly where to find her hole and when she pulled me on top of her, I gracefully slid to the hilt inside her, we both groaned and she whispered, “Fuck me.”

Those were the magic words and my nostrils flared as I ground my pubic bone into hers and pulled back a little before slamming into her so hard she budged across the bed. I grumbled to myself, “This is not exactly the punishment I had in mind but I think it’ll do for now.”

Ever see one of those documentaries where they show rabbits mating? That’s what it’s like sometimes with my daughter. I get inside that tight little baby tube of hers and my hips go into piston hammer mode. Lately, when she wanted a quick fuck, with no preliminaries, she’d just tell me, “I want you to fuck my brains out.”

Our frenzied little ‘bunny fuck’ mating sessions didn’t last more than about three minutes and she could get her cookies off two or three times during one of them. She’s always been like that. She comes very easily and very quickly. It’s nothing for her to experience twelve orgasms in a row in twelve minutes or less.

She’s also very quiet. The only way you can tell she’s having an orgasm, besides her little cunny and arsehole clenching up and pulsing, is to watch her face. Her expression seemed to melt and her eyes would roll back in her head. I’ve accidentally lost my load several times just watching her face.

Sometimes, well maybe a lot of times, she gets randy when she’s doing her chores. Especially after tea when she has to wash the dinnerware. There have been many instances where she lured me into kitchen for a quick one over the basin. The thrilling part was my wife was in the next room with her eyes glued to the tele.

This was no ordinary bunny hump session for us since we had an audience. My girl’s hips were wound up tighter than a coiled spring and she didn’t wait for me to pound into her. As soon as I started to push in, her hips flew up to meet mine before I was halfway. She had already had one of her cock wringing orgasms and I could usually hold out through at least one more, but when I looked down and saw the two girls with their faces pressed between our legs to watch, my balls decided to unload.

The little squib that led to the explosive charge in my ball bag was a fast burner and it felt like they detonated and blew their gooey charge into my daughter’s hungry womb. The room became very hazy while I watched little stars shoot before my eyes, and then my arms wobbled. I must have passed out because that was the last thing I remembered.

End Chapter One

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