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The Morning After

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Asian

When I woke up I got the shock of my life. I was lying naked in bed, next to my naked eighteen year old daughter. Needless to say, I was hung over. The last thing I could remember was sitting in a restaurant with my daughter drinking what was obviously too much for me. We had been “celebrating” if you can call it that, my twentieth wedding anniversary. On every previous anniversary I had celebrated with my wife at that restaurant. We went there on our first date. This year I dreaded the approach of the anniversary, because my wife had recently died.

When my daughter learned what was troubling me, she suggested going to the restaurant with me. That was thoughtful of her. I tried to be cheerful. Unfortunately, as soon as we got to the restaurant I was flooded with memories, once pleasant, now painful. I killed the pain with glass after glass of wine. My daughter tried to cheer me up. Now she was lying next to me, sleeping peacefully, looking as beautiful as a Playboy centerfold model, and unfortunately, just exactly as naked.

I fearfully woke her. She opened her eyes, smiled at me, kissed me on the lips, and said, “Good morning, Dad.”

“Did we … do It last night?” I asked.

She laughed, kissed me again, and said, “No Dad, we did not do It last night. I admit I wanted to. I told you that I had saved my virginity for the perfect moment, and this seemed like the perfect moment. I’m glad you refused. It would have been the wrong thing to do. You had three times as much to drink as I did, but you still kept your moral bearing.”

“If my moral bearing was so high, why are we lying in bed together, completely naked?”

“Good question. I wanted to make love to you. You refused. I held your erect penis and asked, ‘What are we going to do with this?’

“You said, ‘You can’t put bahis firmaları it in your vagina, your mouth, or your rectum’.

“I asked, ‘What about a hand job?’

“You didn’t refuse, so that’s what I gave you.”

“Wait a minute! Why was I naked in the first place?”

“That’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time.” Fortunately, my wedding anniversary fell on a Friday this year. I would not have been much good at work.

“You had far too much to drink in the restaurant to drive home,” my daughter said, explaining what was obvious. “I am too young to order alcohol in a restaurant, but I am old enough to drive, and I just turned old enough for a man to…”

“Yes, I know. So you drove us home I guess.”

“Yes, and when we got home I wanted to have some wine myself, so I opened a bottle and shared it with you. We both talked about Mom. Then I opened and shared another bottle of wine with you. I drank four glasses, which was the most I have ever had. You…”

“I can imagine.”

“Anyway, when you got up to go to bed you took several steps and fell down. I helped you get into your bed room which was hard, because I sure can’t carry you. I pulled back the sheets, and helped you lie down. Then I removed your shoes and socks. With them off, I decided you would sleep more comfortably if I removed everything but your underpants. When that’s all you had on I noticed that you had turned your underpants into a tent.

“I had never looked at you sexually before,” she continued, “but I had never had four glasses of wine either. I took my clothes off, removed your underpants, and was fascinated by your penis. I had not seen one since I last saw yours when I was nine years old. I had never seen an erect one at all. While I was admiring your male organ you sobered up enough kaçak iddaa for us to have the conversation I already told you about. Can’t you remember any of this?”

“Some of it’s coming back to me.”

“Anyway, after you climaxed, I got some toilet paper to wipe you off. Then I got under the sheets with you. You turned me around so that my back was against your chest, and rubbed my clitoris until I had my own orgasm. That’s the way I masturbate, but it felt a lot better when you did it. You told me, ‘This is what your mother and I did together before and after we got married. Our wedding night twenty years ago was the first time we made love with anyone. I have been faithful to her ever since’. Mom told me the same thing, Dad. I think that’s wonderful.”

“I guess I’m not so immoral after all.”

“You’re not immoral at all, Dad. A lot of fathers would have planned an event like last night. They would have done what you refused to do.”

“I sure didn’t plan it. I almost got heart failure waking up next to you.”

“Now, don’t get a heart attack on me Dad. I don’t think I can lose two parents in a few months like that.”

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I want to stay alive.”

“If you want to stay alive, Dad, I wish you wouldn’t stop at bars on the way home from work every night. When Mom died I took over responsibility for getting dinner ready. Sometimes you come home more than an hour late. You’ve obviously been drinking. Mom’s death has been painful for both of us, but think how I’ll feel if a police officer knocks on the door some night and tells me that you got killed in an accident because you had too much to drink, or that you are in the hospital after causing an accident that killed some other people.

“Dad,” she continued, “I need to take better care of you. If you want kaçak bahis to drink after work, buy a bottle of wine, and bring it home. Wouldn’t you rather drink with me than the patrons of some bar? I don’t want you to get into an accident, and I don’t want you to get picked up by some woman either. I’m sure Mom wouldn’t want that.”

“Sweetheart, I would much rather talk to you. My drinking buddies are getting tired of hearing about Mom anyway. That’s all I ever want to talk about. If you don’t mind I can tell you about the places we went to when we were dating. I can take you to some of them.”

“That would be wonderful, Dad. I can never get tired of talking about Mom, and hearing about her. One more thing, Dad: from now on I want to share your bed. You’ve established the restrictions of our relationship, and I agree with them. What happened last night between us was beautiful. I want to do it again.”

“Keep your bed room for appearances sake. If we have friends over, make it look lived in. If we change it to a guest room, people will wonder.”

“That fine with me, Dad. Now you just lie here. You must have a bad hangover. I’ll get some aspirin and an ice bag. Relax, Dad. I’m going to start taking care of you right now. Oh!” she exclaimed, “I’m so glad you agreed to let me sleep here.”

“We must never tell anyone about this,” I warned.

“Yes sir, Father.”

As my daughter walked out of what was to become our bed room, I admired the way her hair flowed down her softly rounded shoulders, the turn of her back, her small waist, her slender, athletic thighs, her perfectly formed calves, and of course, her beautiful, bare bottom. She looked like her mother did when she was that age. Actually, my wife still looked that good when…

Now don’t let me get started on that. Anyway, as I watched, I began to get an erection. I hoped my daughter would still be naked when she came back. She was. Mutual masturbation with her was certainly better than the solitary kind. This time I remembered it.

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