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On holiday with dad (with GenderBender)

Foxy Lady

Foxy Lady

Star
Joined
Jan 30, 2014
Location
United Kingdom
Why didn’t dad listen to me? I told him to come with me to the tanning parlour to get a start with his tan, but he wouldn’t listen. He still thinks I’m a kid, which I’m not any more. I’ve grown up a lot in the past eighteen months. Now I’m lying here in my red bikini with a light gold tan that I can top up in this glorious sun, while he’s lying next to me looking pale. He’ll need a lot of sun cream if he doesn’t want to burn. I told him, but he probably won’t listen and end up like a lobster.

It’s odd seeing him in his swimming trunks. I must have seen him like this before, because I remember him playing with me on the beach. But I was just a child then and just saw dad; now I see a man. He used to come on holiday with mum and me, but he was always rushing off to deal with some business or other, never just chilling out with us. This is the first time I’ve seen him relax in years. He actually left his computer at home and has switched off his cell phone.
 
She’s grown up so much recently. That’s one of the reasons why I brought her on this holiday. Girls of her age look and sound mature, but when you get down to it they are very superficial. She’s different. There’s a real depth to her maturity now, what with coping with her mother’s death and having to take on the responsibility of so much of the household stuff that I just don’t have time for. I wanted to get someone in, a cleaner or whatever, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She had to take over her mother’s role in the household; it was like her way of coping with her loss. I’m hoping this will mark a new beginning for us, a change from father-daughter to an adult relationship based on friendship.

‘You were right about one thing,’ I concede as I look around at the other sunbathers. ‘I should have got a start for my tan when you offered me the chance. Still, it’s too late now and I always tan quickly. Would you mind rubbing some cream on my back?’
 
Well, that’s a first. The first time I’ve heard dad admit he was wrong. And the first time I’ve heard him say I was right about something. Let’s hope he’s going to carry on like this. OK, so I’m being sarcastic. Which is what I’m supposed to be at my age. But I really appreciate him saying that. It means a lot that he was prepared to acknowledge that I knew better than him about something.

Actually, I’m tempted to give him another piece of advice, which is that he should stay on his back a bit longer. He put on plenty of cream and there’s no danger of him burning just yet. And more to the point – not that I’m going to admit this, not in a million years - I’m enjoying looking at him. He’s different from the guys my age with their smooth flat hairless chests. He’s got those man boobs. OK so they’re not big, but my best friend’s tits aren’t much bigger. And he’s hairy. I love that hair. I’ve only had glimpses before, just a few stray hairs peeking out of his shirt. Pity he didn’t want me to rub cream onto his chest. That would be fun.

But the back it is. He’s already on his stomach, shifting and fidgeting to get comfortable as I start to smooth the cream over his back and then rub it in. He tenses at my touch, but then gradually relaxes. I actually feel him settle down and even hear a soft murmur of pleasure as I work the cream evenly into his skin. And then I’m off down his legs. They’re surprisingly muscular for a guy who doesn’t go to the gym, and hairy too, so I need to rub hard to get the cream onto his flesh. He spreads his legs slightly as my hands work up his inner thighs.

There, he’s done. That was good. It’s made me feel happy to do that for him. And with him on his front and looking away from me, I can loosen my bikini top a bit to prevent those horrible tan lines. Thinking of which, he’ll get some if he’s not careful, but I’m not going to mention that.
 
That was a tricky moment. Lucky she didn’t notice that I was turning over so soon after we had settled down in the sun. Lucky she didn’t notice the problem I was having getting myself comfortable. I could have talked my way out of it if she had happened to notice that bulge in my swimming trunks. After all, we’re surrounded by bodies in various stages of undress. Fortunately, daughters aren’t programmed to notice things like that about their fathers.

Mind you, fathers aren’t programmed to notice their daughters. But I have been. That bikini is so skimpy it leaves next to nothing to the imagination. If she looked like her mother at that age, I’d have an excuse. But she doesn’t. not that I am blaming her. This is my problem, not hers. What I need is an excuse to keep us apart as much as possible. Fortunately, I know just the thing.

I close my eyes and concentrate on the roject I’m working on at the moment, which keeps me distracted so that, when I begin to feel my back burning, I can safely turn towards her and sit up. She sits up too, and just manages to grab her bikini top before it falls off completely.

‘Oops, dad, can you tie this for me, it seems to have come undone.’

I smile and do as she asks, but I’m not taken in by her ploy. Still, it gives me a way into the conversation I’ve planned.

‘Look,’ I say, keeping my eyes averted, ‘there are a lot of good looking guys around here and they’ve obviously got their eyes on you. You don’t have to hang around with me. Why don’t you wander off and find some company your own age.’
 
I can’t believe it. Dad promised that we’d spend our time together, but now, only hours into our holiday, here he is suggesting I spend some time on my own. In other words, leave him alone, which means he’s aleady bored and wants to get on with some work. He is so obvious.

But no, hang on, wait a minute. He didn’t bring his computer, so he can’t want to work. At least, he can’t work even if he wants to. But then again there is a business centre in the hotel. I bet that’s what he wants. He doesn’t seem like he normally does when he is eager to get in touch with his office.

In the end, I give him the beneft of the doubt and take him at his word.

‘Dad, you’re so sweet, but I’m happy being here with you. You’re right that there are lots of guys here who are my age and good looking but they don’t interest me and, what’s more important, they’re not interested in me. They’re not exactly forming a queue are they?’

I make a point of looking around. Dad mutters something about me not running myself down.

‘Dad, you’re right and I’m not running myself down. I’m just being realistic, that’s all.’ I stand up so he can get a good look at his daughter. ‘Each bit of me is alright on its own, but they don’t work together do they?’ I run my hand over my hips and thighs. ‘These would be OK if my shoulders were broader and my breasts larger.’ I push out my small tits. Then I twist round. ‘And just look at that bottom.’ I turn back as I hear Dad coughing. He’s doubled over a bit.

I wonder if he’s got a stomach ache.
 
I don’t understand why I am getting hard like this. All the other guys around me aren’t showing any sign of an erection despite all the attractive women lounging on the sunbeds. It’s probably because they’ve not been deprived of sex like I’ve been since my wife died. I daren’t let my daughter see me like this. What will she think?

I remain doubled over as best I can and try to conceal by resting my hands on my knees.

‘Look,’ I say to her, hoping conversation will give me a chance to settle down, ‘let me let you into a secret. Different men like different things. Some like thighs, other breasts, yet others bottom. Some even get excited about feet and armpits. What I am saying is, forget this image that you may have of guys wanting only one perfect female shape like they see in films and books. There’ll be lots who like you, just as you are, I promise. Just take breasts-’

Why am I making it worse for myself by mentioning breasts?

‘Your mother,’ I coughed and regretting starting the sentence, ‘she had large breasts but they just flopped around in bed and she had to hold them for me to suckle, which she really liked.’

Why was I giving my daughter so much information, too much information.

‘Look, all I’m saying is that everyone is different and what you may wish you had others may just find a nuisance. If you follow me,’ I ended limply.

Sadly, my ending was the only limp thing I possessed at the moment.
 
It took me a minute or two to realise what was happening. It was sweet of dad to try to boost my confidence like this and to let me loose to have fun on my own, but suddenly I saw things from his perspective and understood how he was feeling.

He didn’t want me to wander off so his presence would not deter guys from coming over to chat. He wanted me to wander off so my presence would not deter him from approaching other women.

I moved across to his sunbed and snuggled close to him, putting an arm round his shoulders.

‘Dad, I’m sorry, I’m being so selfish, like I was as a kid. I’m not thinking about you. Of course, I’ll give you time alone to spend some time with these gorgeous women around the pool. Lots of them will have their eye on you already. And,’ I added to show how mature I was now, ‘I understand what it must have been like without mum. Don’t worry about me being upset if you want to go with another women.’

I gave him a big hug, pulling him closer to me.
 
She had to be tormenting me deliberately, she just had to be. Everything I did to take my mind off how I was feeling, she did something to remind me just what my mind was on.

I was desperate for her to leave me so that I could calm down and lie on my back for a while without drawing attention to myself. But just when I thought I might be getting control, she moved over and sat next to me. that wasn’t so bad, because at least I wasn’t catching glimpses of her thighs every time I looked up, her thighs slightly parted, a soft bulge in the crotch of her bikini.

But then that thigh was pressing against mine. Her warm soft fresh flesh against my hard and hairy leg. Every slight movement she made rubbed against me, stirring my mind more than it had before.

And then her arm was across my shoulder and I could feel her soft flesh across my back and smell her body, her natural scent mingled with the sun cream and even a slight tang of sweat.

And then she pulled me to her. My side was resting against her breasts that rose and fell with her breathing, rubbing against me.

She was talking but I was so distracted it was difficult to follow what she was saying. And then suddenly I heard her say that the women would be queuing for me. That took me so much by surprise that I burst out in a laugh. And that laugh released all the tension in me, took my mind off my immediate problem.

‘Sorry, love,’ I hoped I hadn’t offended her. ‘But the idea that these women would be interested in a middle aged man like me, that really is funny. I don’t think one of them has so much has glanced in my direction since we settled down here.’

Thank goodness, I was able to sit upright at last and turn towards her.
 
I stared at dad in disbelief.

‘How can you say that, dad? Just look at you. Even without a tan, you’ve got a fantastic body. Haven’t you just been telling me that men like different things and women don’t understand what they like? Well, it’s just the same for us.’

I suddenly felt adult saying that, calling myself a woman and claiming to speak for them.

‘Look at all these guys, they’re all the same with their slim bodies and smooth chests. You don’t understand how boring that is. There are plenty of women here secretly admiring your chest.’ I put my hand on it. ‘Just wishing they could burrow their nails through this soft hair.’ Without realising it, my fingers were following my words. ‘Searching for those nipples and scratching at them before following this dark line down your belly-’

I stopped as I realised the tip of my finger was not at the top of his swimming trunks.
 
Eye contact, I kept telling myself that it was important to keep eye contact. So long as she was looking into my eyes, she wasn't looking anywhere else, and she wasn't noticing anything else.

Nothing else, like my nipples expanding under her touch, my chest tightening as her hands glided over it, my breath coming faster as her fingers reached my belly, my swimming trunks stretching when she didn't stop, my whole body tensing in case she continued, and the flush of relief, or was that disappointment, when she stopped.

I tried to sound as natural as I could, but to me my voice sounded strangulated and the words came out in a rush.

'You're right. Women do like different things, just like men. How stupid of me not to see that for myself. Still at my age I have to be realistic. You're in a different position, in the full flush of youth.'

I was babbling and desperate to find a way out of this situation.

Which was when she made things worse for me.

'Dad, I hope you don't mind if I slip my top off. Lots of women have and I do want a nice even tan.'
 
It was amazing, the first time I’ve touch a man. I’ve touched lots of guys, sure, but they’ve all been my own age, little more than kids really. But this was different. Dad is a real man, with a body that’s been lived in. His skin isn’t smooth and soft like the guys I’ve been with and there’s all that lovely hair. His chest was hard and firm and I could feel it responding to my touch. And most of all – do you know what had the biggest effect on me? – most of all was his gaze. It was so intense, like his eyes were boring into me, trying to read my mind or convey some secret message that only I would understand. He wasn’t really trying to do that, I do understand, it’s just that that was how it felt.

That experience has made me realise why I’ve not ever really been satisfied with the guys I’ve met. I was always left with a feeling that something was missing, something important that they just didn’t have. For a while I wondered if I was gay and that was it, but now I know it wasn’t. They were all just too young and immature for me. they didn’t make me feel like I do now, sitting next to dad. How can I put it? I feel like a woman, for the first time ever in my life. I’ve felt that before – when my boobs started, when my hips changed, when my periods started. But this is different. I feel like a woman deep inside me. It’s not that I have changed in some way, it’s more like I have finally realised that life isn’t just about me, it’s also about the effect others have on me.

Which actually is one of the reasons why I plucked up the courage to go topless. I’ve never done that before, except in the tanning lounge, where no one can see. Dad, bless him, didn’t bat an eyelid. He just heard what I said as I’d said I was going for a swim. He wasn’t fazed at all. so I just reached behind, untied my top and let it slide over my arms into my lap.

All I have to do know is rub in some cream and lie back.
 
OK, OK, I know, I shouldn’t be watching her, but I can’t stop myself. She is so different from her mother, who had big tits and red nipples like cherries. We used to call them the cherries on her cakes and I’d bite them off. But her daughter isn’t like that.

Did you notice that? I said her daughter, not our daughter or my daughter. Why did I do that? Does it trouble me to think of her as my daughter?

Anyway, our daughter is different. She had small pert tits with brown nipples that perch on the end as if they are about to fall off. She’s sitting opposite me on her sunbed, turned sideways to me, massaging her sun cream into her tits. Massage. Yes, that’s the word. Not just smoothing it over her skin, but massaging herself, as if she was giving herself pleasure, showing off her body. Maybe that’s what she’s doing, but no one is looking, not that I can see as I tear my eyes off her briefly. I’m the only one staring at her.

I wait until she turns away briefly and then swing myself onto my stomach and swiftly try to adjust my tackle so that I can lie comfortably. I turn my head so that I can’t see her.

I sigh with relief that I can now settle and try to calm myself again, when suddenly she is sitting beside me, her thighs pressing against mine, telling me I need some cream on my back so that I don’t burn. I lie there as she smooths my back and legs, knowing that her breasts are swinging as she bends over me. At one point, I am sure they rub against my back, but that was probably my imagination.

Shit, I now know why I have been avoiding going on holiday with her since she began to mature, why I always kept myself busy when we did go away as a family, and why I was always in my study or at work. These thoughts, these images, that I’m getting have always been there, but I was able to suppress them when she wasn’t around me. And now I’ve come away alone with her, there’s no avoiding her or these ideas that come into my head.

Shit, shit, shit.
 
Poor dad. I hope he's OK. He seems uncomfortable. The last thing we need is him going down with a bug - or even worse me catching it too. And he needs to watch it with the sunbathing. His back will be burnt like a lobster if he isn't careful.

He took me going topless well. I was determined to be like the other women here. Most go topless sooner or later. And it is important for dad to start to see me as a woman. I'm sure he still thinks of me as his little girl - all dads do that, don't they. Well, seeing me topless make help him realise that I am not a little girl any more. i must admit I did make a bit of a show rubbing in the cream, just so he couldn't miss seeing me naked, well topless. It was only natural that he wouldn't want to stare, not at his daughter. Not that he would be interested in my tits anyway. Mum had melons and mine are small, which I rather like. But dad is obviously a guy who prefers the larger models.

I keep glancing over towards him, waiting for a chance to get him on his back. I just love that chest with all its hair. His back is definitely going red again. I've got to make him turn over.

So I go over and start to push him onto his back.

'Come on, dad, you're burning again. Time to turn over. Don't worry about the cream, I'll rub it on for you.'

As he reluctantly struggles onto this back I grab the cream and pour some into my palm before rubbing it vigorously over his chest to get it onto his skin beneath all that hair.
 
It was so sudden. I must have been dozing off when she grabbed my shoulder and started rolling me onto my back. I tried to resist, but she had got the momentum and before I knew it I was flat on my back. I didn’t know what was happening, she was saying something but I didn’t catch it and the next thing her hands were all over my chest, rubbing cream in vigorously.

I tried to sit up to get control but she just pushed me back down and carried on rubbing. She was leaning over me, his tits dangling and swaying in front of my eyes. I tried shutting my eyes, cutting out the sight of the rhythmic swing of those hard little nipples and pert little tits, but then the sensations took over completely and I forgot it was my daughter causing them, so I had no choice but to watch her as she progressed down my chest.

The further she moved down my belly, the stiffer I felt myself growing. There was no way she could miss what was happening when she moved onto my legs. I tried to say I could do the rest, but she just ignored me, saying I should lie back and relax. Relax. If only I could. In the end, all I could do was to put my hands over my crotch in as casual manner as I could and hope they would hide the bulge that was stretching the fabric. When her hands reached the top of my trunks, she slipped her fingers just inside to make sure there was no gap where I could burn.

While she was putting more cream onto her hands, I took the chance to adjust myself as best I could before she took hold of my ankles and opened my legs, working up each in turn. She was kneeling at the end of my lounger, her tits still swinging to and fro as her warm hands moved slowly up my inner thigh. I was biting my lip when her fingers nudged the bottom of my balls. and then the temporary relief as she returned to my feet to work up the other leg. I could feel my cock throbbing under my hands when her fingers made contact with my balls for the second time.

And then she stopped. I looked up at her as she stood staring down at me smiling. Did she know what effect she had had? Was she laughing to herself at how awkward she had made things for me? Was she planning how to cause me more embarrassment? Or was she just an innocent girl helping her dad?

We had only just arrived and already I knew this holiday would be a big mistake.
 
Dad is funny. He’s got his hands over his crotch like I’ve just walked in on him in the shower. Not that I’ve ever done that. Not that I would have the chance; dad and mum were both scrupulous that we all bolted the door when we were in the bathroom. Mind you, I’ve never thought of dad like that, naked I mean. Girls don’t do that do they; we must be programmed not to think of parents as sexual beings. And they must be programmed the same, I guess.

It was an odd feeling, though, when I knocked into his balls. It wasn’t deliberate. Well, it was, but not like that if you know what I mean. I had to make sure there weren’t any gaps without cream, so I had to get right up to the top of his legs and I couldn’t avoid doing that without bumping his balls. I was very gentle, but the more gentle I was, the longer it took to get right up to the top, if you know what I mean. It was easier when I did the other leg, though. I was used to the feel by then. The guys I’ve hung out with have quite small eggs, but dad doesn’t. They must get bigger as guys get older. It would have been easier if dad had spread his legs a bit wider, but instead he squeezed them together, so I had to press harder to get where I was going.

That made me feel really good. Like I said before – I think I said it anyway – dad is a real man, not a kid, and the way he feels under my hand and the way he responds to my touch, well I’ve never had an experience like that before. Maybe I should think of looking out for more mature guys. It’s difficult to find the words to explain it, because it’s an experience I’ve nto had before. I’m lying here trying to work it out. Powerful. That’s part of it, but there’s more to it. There’s a thrill to it as well. I just realised, I’ve got a big smile on my face. Suddenly I realise that my hands are over my crotch and I’m squeezing my legs together. Strange how we copy each other – I’m in the same position as dad.
 
My hand is resting on my cock. I want to take it away, but I can't, not with my daughter glancing over at me all the time. And the pressure of my hand just makes it worse. It is so tempting just to slip my hand inside my trunks and get myself off. I actually wonder if I can get away with it lying here. If I kept one hand in place, would anyone notice? Can you believe I am actually thinking that?

I'm looking around, desperate for a solution when I see it. Over to my left, the toilets. if i make a run for it no one will notice. So that's what I do. With a quick "back in a minute" I get up as casually as i can and trot over the toilets. As soon as I am there, my trunks are down and my cock is waving. I'm so worked up that this will only take a few seconds. I wank away, something I've not done for years. Thank goodness, I'll soon be back in control.

Except ...

Except, I can't, it won't. I'm so tight that I can't cum. Maybe it's because the images in my mind are of my daughter kneeling astride me, her tits swinging in my face, her hands working down my chest, over my belly, into my trunks, ... How can I let myself cum when I am thinking of her? This is a mess. A complete mess. What am I going to do now.
 
It’s been great feeling the sun and soft breeze on my tits. That’s a completely new experience for me. They’re not that big, but I like them and I’d never realised how lovely it feels to have them swaying around, like they did when I was creaming dad. And I don’t feel self conscious at all, not even with dad around. Actually, I don’t think he’s noticed or at least he’s pretending not to. Which is good of him, because it must be awkward to get used to your little girl being a woman and flashing herself about. Not that I am flashing exactly. Most of the women here, even some really old ones in their 30s and 40s, are topless.

With dad gone for a while I’ve got a chance to get some of my more private parts tanned. It’s OK to go topless here, but nudity is definitely prohibited. Not that that has stopped pushing their bikini bottoms down as far as they can decently go and lots have their buttocks completely exposed. So I push my bottom down and give my buttocks a good creaming, not forgetting the crack and lie down on my stomach. With the bikini rolled right down, I’m pretty much naked but still preserving the modest that the hotel says is important for the comfort of all guests. How pompous can you get?

Dad’s taking a long time. I wonder what he’s up to.
 
It’s taken ages but I finally got off by remembering times with my wife and pushing our daughter to the back of our minds. I’m standing there hot and flushed. No way I can go back over to the sunbed, not yet, not until this cock subsides and I stop flushing like this. I make a dash for the pool and dive straight in, raising a chorus of protest from sunbathers who get splashed. I paddle around a bit, slowing cooling off, before I climb out, confident I am now in control of myself.

And then, there she is. Shit and hell. She’s naked. No, not quite, but that ass if completely uncovered. I close my eyes and sigh. What is she playing at? As I approach, she turns onto her side.

‘Hi, good timing dad, I was about to put some more cream on.’

What can I say? I rub some cream over the back and thighs and calves, hoping to get away with that, but she won’t let me.

‘Hey,’ she calls without opening her eyes, ‘don’t forget those peaches. Give them plenty of cream.’

I quickly smooth some cream over her buttocks and toss the cream into our bag. She retrieves it and holds it up to me.

‘Come on dad, do it properly please. Rub some into my crack, I don’t want sunburn in there.’

I take a deep breath and do as she asks, trying my best to avoid her hole, but she wiggles around and makes that impossible.

‘Done now?’ I ask hopefully.

She nods and I settle down on my own lounger. Face down, naturally, as my cock is already beginning to stiffen up again. Thank goodness she’s not allowed to be completely naked. The sun is getting lower now, so it won’t be long before I’ll have a decent excuse to go back to my room.

To think that this is only the first afternoon. At least, she’ll have to be dressed for our meal this evening.
 
Dad was much more relaxed once we came in from the pool. We got some clothes on and had a look around the shops and we’re now back in our rooms getting showered and dressed for a meal. We’ll eat in the hotel tonight and then check out some local restaurants for tomorrow.

Sally, she’s my best friend, has lent me some of her clothes. We’re almost the same size, the only difference is that she is an inch or two shorter than me. I’m going to wear her green dress tonight. It’s thin, which is just what I need in this heat, with thin shoulder straps and simple lines. And the way it’s been cut makes it swing nicely when she walks.

I’ve never worn it before and it’s not until I get it on that I realise that my extra height makes a big difference. Sure it swings as I walk but whereas on her it was short, on me it barely covers my ass. I’ll certainly get some attention when I walk into the restaurant wearing it. Every guy there will be trying to catch a flash of my pants. Maybe I shouldn’t wear any.

Dad won’t mind, I’m sure. He has accepted that I am an adult now. After all, he creamed my ass this afternoon, right deep into the crack, without batting an eyelid. It’s good to settle into an adult relationship so easily. Some of my friends have had a lot of trouble with fathers who can still only see them as their little girl.
 
Whatever possessed her to wear that dress? I didn’t know she had it. It must have cost a small fortune. Where did she get the money for something like that? It’s almost indecent. Everyone in the hotel was looking at her. Some were more obvious about it than others. And some of them were looking at me. What were they thinking? Half probably thought it was disgusting of a man of my age to be with a young woman like that, barely an adult. And if anyone realised I was her father, they would have wondered why I allowed my daughter to dress like that.

Naturally I kept my eyes off her ass, as best I could, especially after that experience this afternoon. But there was no avoiding it when we went up the stairs to the restaurant with her bottom right in my face. It was a relief to get to the table. At least I couldn’t see her ass there, just her tits. I don’t know if she is wearing panties, but she certainly isn’t wearing a bra. The front of the dress hangs loose and her tits almost fall out everyone time she bends forward across the table to speak to me. and the material is catching on the nipples when she sits upright. How can someone with small tits have such long nipples?

Thank goodness I’m dressed this evening and sitting at a table, so there is no problem with any embarrassing bulge. Even when we walk back to our rooms. And then …

Then she turns and puts her arms round me, pressing her body to mine as she wishes me goodnight.

There is no way she could have missed my hard on. No way.
 
I didn’t notice, not at first.

We were on our way back to our rooms and I was feeling great. I’d had the sun on my body all afternoon and this beautiful dress was billowing around me as I moved rubbing against my flesh and setting off currents of air to cool me. The men in the restaurant kept looking at me. I’m sure half of them had hard on and the waiter definitely did. He was very attentive and there was no missing the bulge that appeared every time he came near us.

But best of all was the relationship with dad. He wasn’t talking to me like a child any more, not treating me like one either. He did seem a bit awkward at times, but that’s only to be expected as he adjusted to an adult relationship. It was only natural that I slipped my arm through his as we walked along the corridor. When we were outside his room, I turned to him and gave him a big hug. A hug of thanks for the holiday and for accepting me as a woman and not a child.

Like I said, I didn’t notice it at first.

And when I did, I wasn’t sure. I mean I hadn’t thought of dad going around with a hard on. But there are a lot of attractive women here.

So I rolled myself against him, just to check it out, and yes, I was right, there was no mistake. He was hard as a rock.

I looked up at him. he must have known I’d noticed. He was trying to pull back, probably I thought to get away and chase someone he fancied in the bar.

Then I felt his cock twitching against my belly and I had a thought. If the men in the restaurant and the waiter had hard ons because of me, might it be possible, just possible, however unlikely …

‘Dad,’ I tried to sound as matter of fact as I could, ‘have I given you this?’
 
She had to notice; she couldn’t miss it. But her question comes out of the blue. I never expected her to understand so quickly.

What can I say? How can I tell my daughter that the sight of her has made me hornier than I have ever been in my life. More that her mother made me feel.

I stammer and try to avoid an answer.

‘Wh-wh-what do you mean? Wh-wh-what are you su-su-suggesting?

‘H-h-how c-c-could you ever th-th-think such a th-th-thing?’

But what I can’t do is deny it. The words ‘no, of course not’ just won’t come out.

She’s looking at me and the longer she looks and the longer I don’t give the easiest answer, the more obvious it becomes.

‘Let’s go into my room,’ I say at last. ‘We shouldn’t be talking about this sort of thing in the corridor.’

She follows me in.

She had to notice; she couldn’t miss it. But her question comes out of the blue. I never expected her to understand so quickly.

What can I say? How can I tell my daughter that the sight of her has made me hornier than I have ever been in my life. More that her mother made me feel.

I stammer and try to avoid an answer.

‘Wh-wh-what do you mean? Wh-wh-what are you su-su-suggesting?

‘H-h-how c-c-could you ever th-th-think such a th-th-thing?’

But what I can’t do is deny it. The words ‘no, of course not’ just won’t come out.

She’s looking at me and the longer she looks and the longer I don’t give the easiest answer, the more obvious it becomes.

‘Let’s go into my room,’ I say at last. ‘We shouldn’t be talking about this sort of thing in the corridor.’

She follows me in.
 
Dad is so embarrassed. I’ve never seen him like this. It’s so funny seeing him blushing and stammering like he is. He’s looking around frantically, desperate to make sure no one can overhear what we are saying. He flees into his room and I follow.

For some reason, I feel the need to take the lead here.

‘Dad,’ there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. ‘It’s good to know that you see me as a woman now and not a little girl.’

He doesn’t look convinced.

‘And it’s a compliment too. Knowing that I can have this effect on a real man and not just on some kid who gets hard like 50 times a day or something.’

I’m standing close, but we’re not touching, although we could easily reach out and make contact.

He still hasn’t said anything to me, so I just say what’s on my mind. It just comes out.

‘Can I see?’ His jaw actually drops open. ‘I’ve never seen a man’s cock before. They’re bigger than a teenager’s, isn’t that right? Thicker, so I’ve heard.’

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t say no, so I reach out and unfasten his trousers and pull them down, taking his underwear with them.

His cock springs free, swaying, with a blob of pre-cum hanging by a thread.

I reach out and touch it. Like I expect, it’s thicker and harder than what I’ve been used to with guys my age. I feel it throbbing under my hand. I moved my hand, slightly, pulling dad towards me, and then it happened.

Without warning, he blew, a long jet of thick white cum shot into the air and landed on my dress.

No, not my dress, Sally’s dress.

Shit, I can’t give it back to her with a huge stain.

I pull it over my head and rush to the bathroom to soak it.
 
It was so sudden. She touched me and I knew I couldn't control myself. And then suddenly her dress was over her head, her tits were bouncing in front of my eyes and then she was off in a flash of buttocks.

I just stood there, my balls still pumping my cum, my mind full of what I have just seen.

I am still standing here when she emerges. Naked except for a green thong that matches her dress. What do I say? How can I excuse, let alone explain what has just happened? In the end, I don't need to say anything, because she takes control, just like she did when she undressed me.

'Phew, that was lucky, dad. I caught it before it soaked in. Imagine explaining to Sally how I got a load of your cum all over me.'

She takes in the mess, cum still dripping from my cock as it subsides, pools of it on the floor.

'Here,' she says, 'let me clean you up.' And off she goes to get tissues. Practical in the face of a crisis, just like her mother.

She helps me out of my clothes and tosses them onto a chair.

'That's better, dad, you were a bit overdressed compared to me.'

We stand and look at each other.

'It looks like you're the one who is overdressed,' I remark trying to sound casual.

She looks down at her thong and slips her fingers under the side straps.
 
Dad looked so pathetic standing there, like he didn't know what to do. His cock was still thick and stiff, swaying with a thread of cum hanging almost to the floor. I felt so guilty at leaving him like that, just to protect that dress, but I couldn't really explain to Sally that my dad had cum all over it, now could I. Anyway, I caught it in time, which is the main think, although I cannot wear it back to my room, not with a huge damp patch, so it looks like I'm going to have to stay in dad's room until it dries out.

I feel I have to say something, after all we couldn't just stand there staring at each other, with each of us trying to pretend we weren't staring. So I tried to carry off some flip remark about being overdressed. I mean, he couldn't take me seriously, could he, not with me standing there is a tiny bit of material no big enough to use as a handkerchief. But he comes right back with me being the one overdressed, which was true I suppose given that he was totally butt stark naked. My instinct was to step out of the panties, but before I knew what I was doing I was in full teasing strip tease mode, like the one that used to get Simon so hot under his jock strap after a strenuous game of soccer.

So there I was, slowly lowering the thong and then, just at the last moment, twisting to give a view of my ass as the thong fell to my feet, and then i bend over, full view of ass, to pick it up before turning to reveal myself in all my glory with my neatly trimmed patch of hair just above my pussy.

I look down all demure and then raise my eyes under my eye lids, looking all innocent and coy.

And dad just stands there. His mouth is literally open and he's saying things like, Oh shit, oh holy shit, you shouldn't have done that, have you no idea what you're doing to me, this is wrong, oh my God, please help me. Lots of stuff like that.

I'm not sure what to do, so I do a twirl for him and ask 'So dad how do you think your little girl has turned out?'
 
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