Rosalind Part Three

I stood outside my parent’s bedroom door, curious and nervous that I’d find them at it again. However, all was quiet. With the door slightly ajar and the blinds up, the room was easy to survey with just a brief peek. My heart leaped as I saw the tanned, naked form of my dad sprawled across the white bed linen, his face turned away from me and partly obscured where the sheet was scrunched and heaped up beside his chest. He was alone and obviously fast asleep but evidence of my parents’ earlier activity was plain to see in the chaotic state of the bedclothes. I wondered where mom was and then guessed that she’d gone to the shops. The house was completely silent, save my dad’s deep breathing. I watched as his muscled chest gently rose and fell and immediately I felt wet again. A warm trickle ran down my leg and I pressed my hips against the door frame while never taking my eyes off him. Through the panties and skirt I enjoyed the hardness of the wood rubbing into my pussy and bit down on a finger to stifle any noise.

Suddenly, though it had been hidden by his left leg a minute ago, I noticed his penis lying like a spent fish against his other leg. It twitched, swelled a little and rose further into view. My daddy was having an erotic dream! As if the reality of wild sex with mom wasn’t enough for him, he had to dream about it too. I had to choke back on a giggle and I told myself I should go. This was so naughty. His organ grew convulsively, like a time lapse film of a growing plant, and I was completely hypnotized by it. I had never seen my daddy’s penis before, or any penis. I reached down around my bottom, pulled my skirt up and slipped my hand down my panties while I continued to rub my clitty against the frame. I watched him grow stiffer until he was completely erect and pointing proudly into the warm air of the room, the eye directed at the ceiling light. In my heightened state it was easy to make myself cum again but keeping quiet was harder. My legs quaked, my pussy throbbed and gushed while I emitted a deep groan through clenched teeth.

As my orgasm faded my awareness changed and I became suddenly aware of something new. My eyes flew to the window. In the reflection I could see my daddy’s face. His eyes were wide open! Our eyes stayed connected for a second longer before I ran back to my room, overwhelmed with shame. He had seen me all the time. He had been enjoying seeing his daughter aroused by the sight of him! I threw myself on the bed and buried my face in the pillow. This was too much to take. My face was hot and smeared again with tears. I wanted to return to school or just leave the house, anything just to hide this feeling of shame from my parents. I felt so weak and I just crawled under the bed sheet, still in my clothes.

I thought of my school friend and how we shared everything. I’d told her my┬ámost private secrets. Could I ever breathe a word to her of what had happened this morning? My friend and I were so close but I doubted that I could ever overcome the embarrassment that today’s events had filled me with. I turned over onto my back, breathed deeply, then reached out and switched on the radio. I turned the volume up in the hope it would drown out the raging confusion inside me. These were my parents whom I had been raised to love and respect. I used to run to them for kisses and cuddles. What kind of love could this be where my entire body longed for their bodies, to be defiled by them, be filled by them and be corrupted by them? I was a daisy fresh girl and look what they’d done to me. An odd thought struck me: my parents were sex maniacs! Certain events in my childhood suddenly made sense now that I knew this. I had often wondered why they spent so long in bed, in the bathroom together, why I’d be shooed away to play downstairs. When I was little, every day I’d return home from school to find the house apparently empty, only to see them suddenly burst out of a room looking disheveled. I wondered at my naivete or even plain stupidity. My only excuse was that, in those days, the house we lived in had thicker walls.

I masturbated again for a little while, but I just couldn’t overcome the feeling that doing it in my childhood bed was wrong. With the music playing I went online for a bit to email my friend, ask her what she was up to and to tell her that I missed her. I mooched to the kitchen to see what I could get for breakfast but I wasn’t hungry for food and mom was still out, so I mooched to the bathroom, hardly knowing what I was doing.

I pulled down my skirt and panties, sat down and fell into a kind of daydream. To the left of me the shower curtain was pulled across, hiding the bath. All was quiet. I sniffed and was suddenly aware of the smell of smoke. My dad’s cigar smoke. There was a soft splash and I realized that dad had drawn a bath and probably fallen asleep as he often did while having a soak. He would often smoke in the bath. It was a slightly decadent habit of his which I loved him for but for which mom would sometimes berate him as he’d once set the curtain on fire. He probably hadn’t heard me come in and all I had to do now was quickly draw my panties and skirt back up and slip out again. But the same curiosity that had forced me to peep at him through the door now forced me to peep at him round the shower curtain.

This time he really did look asleep. He blonde head was tilted back, his mouth wide open and the abandoned cigar was smoldering away to itself on the tiles. It was a large bath and was almost full to the brim, leaving most of his body submerged save his hands which drooped over the sides. I couldn’t help but smile fondly. What a sybarite! I bit my lip and shook my head. He must have really needed this after his earlier frenzied activity. I stood, quickly dressed and was about to pad softly out when his deep voice came through the curtain.

“Hey baby? Is that you?”

I froze. Did he mean mom? He wants to do it to mom in the bath, I thought, and decided to pretend I hadn’t heard. I only advanced two steps to the door before I heard the shower curtain being drawn aside. I slowly turned to see his handsomely lined face regarding me steadily. Glancing to the right I saw his naked, wonderfully toned body in the water. He was eyeing me from my head to my bare feet. I closed my eyes, blushed again and shook my head slightly, amazed at the inappropriateness of the situation. He grinned.

“Come here and sit down,” he told me while patting the tiles at the side of the bath, but his tone was kind. “We haven’t talked for so long, just the two of us.”

I frowned, irritated that my embarrassment was not already plain enough. He finally took the hint and drew the curtain across again but chuckled knowingly. I perched on the tiles by the side of the bath with my face hidden from him by my hair.

I’ll run out of here screaming if he so much as touches me, I lied to myself.

“So,” he coughed, “got a boyfriend?”

I shook my bowed head and said nothing.

“Oh, that’s right,” he said and clicked his fingers. “Your mother told me about a girl you like at school?”

I turned my head a little and smiled, tight-lipped.

“Don’t you like boys at all?” he asked in a slightly incredulous tone. “Well, that’s fine, we love you anyway, dear.”

“I love you too, daddy,” I whispered but he didn’t seem to hear as he splashed around.

“Your mother was into girls too at your age.”

I almost turned around in my surprise.

“Oh yeah,” he continued. “I caught her at it one time. They let me join in.”

Oh my god, I breathed, and tried to stand up but my legs seemed to have suddenly stopped working.

“Two women at once is really something,” he said. “In fact, it’s something we’ve started doing again recently. I missed having a threesome and I know she did too. Women can go on and on and on and that is such a massive turn on. Some men find it intimidating. Not me, I love it. I think it makes a man more determined not to keep all the pleasure for himself and to wait before cumming. But it also makes me able to cum more powerfully. Doubles the pleasure,” he laughed softly.

There was a wet patch now where I was sitting, but I couldn’t be sure if it was from my dad’s splashing or not.

“Having said that,” he said with a sigh, “sometimes your mother is more than enough for me. I swear I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I didn’t know it was possible to cum so many times in one hour. Just this last hour I must have done it three times and she came seven times, I think. Or maybe eight. So much for equality. We started after you went to bed last night and just fucked the entire night away. We did it in every position we know again and again, going down on each other numerous times. And another thing is, she’s stayed so tight even after all this time. She grips me so hard sometimes I can’t seem to pull out. Sometimes, no matter how much I give her, it never seems to be enough. I think she wants a threesome with a guy she knows at work but I’m so not into that. I admit, seeing her with another guy might make me jealous and that would turn me on, but the idea of another naked guy in our bed, no. I think she’s probably a bit more broad-minded than I am.”

There was a pause while he splashed around some more. Then I felt his hand on mine but I couldn’t leap up and scream like I’d told myself I would. I looked down at the hand which completely covered mine. It was firm and strong, like the rest of him.

“I hope none of this shocks you, baby,” he told me, “but you can’t stay innocent forever. Aren’t you a bit curious to know what being with a guy is like? Are there no guys you like at all?” I heard a teasing smile in his voice as he asked, “No boys I should be jealous of?”

I cleared my throat and finally found my voice. “Yes,” I replied, “there is one guy I like.”

 

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