Wet and Wild Summer

[ms_tiff]

Closed for Firmhanded_Daddy

Wet and Wild Summer​

Loading up her car, Samantha Carson sighed; she wasn’t ready to go back home and leave behind her newfound independence. Freshman year of college had flown by – a crazy year of parties, studying, and the most amazing sex she’d ever experienced. Okay, so it was the ONLY sex she had experienced, but still, it was mind blowing. Earth shattering even. Everyone said that your first time was a disaster, to not get your hopes up for a firework ending, but man had they been wrong.

With her car now loaded of all her worldly possessions, Sam slammed the trunk and leaned back, her ass propped on the warm metal and one foot up on the rusting bumper. She surveyed the campus one last time, drinking it all in. Her dormitory loomed above her; the faded red of the building mingling with the ivy that grew up the seams bricks. Some good times had been had within those walls. She glanced up to her old room, fourth floor, three window to the right. If those generic white walls could talk. A smile tugged at her lips as she remembered all the time she’d spent primping for parties with her roommate, Candace, or getting ready for class. Believe it or not the time getting ready for class was a lot longer than party primping.

Lusty heat filled Sam’s veins as she remembered her first day on campus. She’d been in the bookstore filling her basket with all the books she would need for the semester; Calculus, Biochemistry, Physics, and…ugh, 19th Century Literature. A list of books in her hand, Sam had surveyed the shelves, her eyes scanning the titles with distaste: Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Portrait of Dorian Gray. She wasn’t studying literature, why did she need to take this course? The downside of a general education she supposed. At least she planned on getting it done and over with early on in her college career. Her hand had reached for a copy of Pride and Prejudice when someone bumped into her from behind, sending Samantha into the shelves and causing a cascade of books to go crashing to the floor.

“Watch it you…” She had spun around and fallen into ocean blue eyes that had her weak at the knees.

Clint Hawkins was not what one pictured when imagining an English professor. There was no tweed jacket or bowtie, no wire-rimmed glasses or faint whiff of pipe smoke. No, Clint looked like McSteamy and McDreamy rolled into one gorgeous and fuckable package. From his salt and pepper hair to the scruff dotting his chiseled jaw all the way down to the tips of the black Chuck Taylors that peeked out from beneath his worn jeans, Clint Hawkins was all man and all that Samantha could think about. That night she had experienced her first sex dream and it featured none other than the sexy professor himself. She’d woken up the next morning with a hand inside her sensible cotton underwear, wet and unsatisfied and aching for more.

The first day of classes had seen her in the literature class. Bored the moment she walked through the door, Samantha found her boredom evaporate when Professor Hawkins had taken the lectern, his deep voice reverberating within the lecture hall and all the way down to Samantha’s toes.

After every class, Samantha retreated to her dorm, her fantasies taking over as she teased herself to climax. Soon the fantasies were not enough and what began as an innocent student/teacher relationship turned into an affair so hot and passionate that just the thought of it left Samantha wet and weak kneed.

A car alarm blasted in the distance, drawing Samantha from her thoughts. With another sigh she climbed into the car and began the five hour drive back home, leaving freshman year and Clint in her rearview mirror.

After what seemed like forever, perhaps because she couldn’t stop thinking about the farewell gift Clint had given her that morning, Samantha pulled into her parents’ driveway. The quaint Colonial at the end of the cul-de-sac greeted her like an old friend; the second-floor windows open to welcome in the warm summer breeze and the faint smell of gasoline in the air as the neighborhood revved up its lawn mowers.

As expected, the driveway was empty. No doubt her parents were off at work and wouldn’t be back until later. Leaving most of her things in the car, Samantha grabbed her suitcases and headed inside. Going into her childhood bedroom, the pink walls and queen-sized canopy bed a far cry from the dorms, Samantha felt as if she were stepping back in time. And it wasn’t a good feeling.

 

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

There had been a cold war going on at home while Samantha was away at school. The truth was it was going on well before she left, but her parents had been doing a fair job at concealing it from her; now with the girl gone the two could stop the pretense and the fake smiles. It was the same story that many couples had when having a child early on in their marriage and not taking the time to work on bonding together. Once the child was grown and ready to leave the nest, the two looked at each other and realized they no longer had anything in common with each other. Hell they barely recognized one another for that matter.

Robert Carson for his part was still quite a catch; in his early 40’s he was still in great shape. Owning a construction business; and being the sort of man who was never a hands off worker he never lost the thick muscle mass that he earned working his way up to that point. With wavy dark walnut hair that was just starting to show stripes of grey he showed no signs of slowing down despite his age. He earned the respect of his workers because he was the sort of boss whom would never tell a man to do a job to do work he was not willing to do work he wouldn’t do. He had always hated pricks like that when he was just a grunt himself and so he made it a point to do shit jobs from time to time himself. It kept him humble, and it kept him in shape. His skin also showed the effects of the time in the sun, the deep, ruddy dark brown was there nearly all year round.

This was all a sharp contrast to Marissa Carson whom had all but given up on trying to maintain herself. Samantha certainly had her mother to thank for most of her looks, but Marissa had been eating poorly and virtually no exercise. The two had an amazing sex life for most of their marriage, but somewhere along the line that hat simply evaporated. Marissa started to freeze him out and despite his attempts to talk, protest, plead, and growl she offered nothing in way of explanation or compromise. Finally he simply gave up and saw to his own needs. So they went their separate ways and Marissa started to get depressed and eat her feelings.

When Sam left the cold war heated up and almost ended up in a full scale battle front. It became a war of attrition after that point. Recognizing where things were heading, Robert just stopped coming home. He started pulling extreme hours at work, so that his time at him was so minimal all he had time to do was come home, eat, show, and sleep. That cooled down the conflict enough to reduce the problems to a bare minimum.

However today was the day his little girl was coming home. For the first time in ages he was looking forward to walking through those front doors. He approached his foreman as he was supervising some concrete pouring. “John. I’m heading home for the day. Don’t let them fuck off, you know what I expect out of everyone. I’ve already sprung to have food brought in to keep them on task.” John nodded and with that he nearly sprinted to his white truck and fired it up. He did not immediately head home. Instead he headed toward the Gym that he belonged to. He quickly showered off the day’s sweat and grime. He changed into a well worn but well fitting pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt and ran and dried and combed his hair, then headed back home.

When he pulled into the driveway he noticed her car was already in the driveway. His piercing green eyes locked onto her bedroom window and a broad grin bloomed over his features. A thought occurred to him, he had not done this since she was a little girl; but she really was a daddy’s girl. She would get so excited when he would get home from work, he would announce he was home by banging on his tool box in the bed of his truck with his hand three times. So he balled up his large hand and gave the metallic tool box three sharp raps and then proceeded to head into the house.

He made it as far as the kitchen before calling out in his deep rumbling voice. “There is a beautiful woman in my home. I am not sure I should be alone with her! The heart of this old man can’t take such things.” His tone was warm and playful, full of love.

 

[ms_tiff]

She’d all but fallen asleep on her bed, cocooned within the folds of the cool, down comforter. The warm breeze caused the ruffles of the canopy to sway in time with the fluttering of her lashes as she dozed. Clint's present rested on the bed beside her still wrapped in the bow he’d so painstakingly tied. Samantha had had every intention of partaking in his present, but her tiredness had overtaken any other needs and she’d found herself slipping into semi-consciousness the instant she settled onto the bed.

A familiar sound came through the window, a clang of metal being hit that drew her from her tired daze. Samantha sat up slowly, rolling her eyes even as a smile tugged at her lips. Her dad hadn’t done that since she was a child. The sound used to pull her down the stairs like a magnet, her little legs pumping as fast as they could while her mother called for her to be careful. But Samantha hadn’t cared then. All she knew was that that sound meant Daddy was home and she would sprint out the door before he’d barely made his way up the porch steps and fling herself into his arms.

But that was then. Now, Samantha was a grown woman and she would act like one. Forcing herself up off the bed, she tucked the present behind her pillows and adjusted the white V-neck t-shirt she wore. She considered changing her shirt as she knew her dad wouldn’t approve of the way the lace of her black bra peeked out over the neckline, highlighting the cleavage on display. She shrugged, he’d have to get used to the fact that she wasn’t Daddy’s Little Girl anymore. Running a hand through her auburn hair, a trait no one knew where she’d gotten it from as she was the only redhead in the family, she pulled the long strands up into a messy bun.

Samantha took the steps at a languid pace, knowing that her dad probably expected the same enthusiastic greeting he used to get.

“There is a beautiful woman in my home. I am not sure I should be alone with her! The heart of this old man can’t take such things.”

His voice came from the kitchen and Samantha turned the corner from the foyer into the large, sunlight room. Robert Carson stood there, a grin on his sun-weathered face, the hint of a five o’clock shadow lining his jaw. He looked the same as he had when she was home for Christmas, but there was a weariness to his gaze. Subtle bags had developed under his eyes, noticeable only to those who knew his face well.

“Hi, Dad.” She smiled, deciding not to acknowledge the tired look about him or the lameness of his joke. Hugging him quickly, Samantha moved to the counter. “I was just about to make some coffee. You want some?” Standing up on tip-toes, she reached or the coffee filters in the cupboard, her shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing the soft, pale skin of her waist.

“How’s work been?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder at him as she set about getting the coffee pot prepped.

 

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

The sound of pounding little feet had been replaced by an unhurried pace of solid footsteps as Samantha came down the steps. She made her way toward him and greeted him with a brief hug. She had changed he noted. The way she dressed for one, and there was a distance there. Maybe she was just growing up and as part of that growing apart from her old man? He chewed on that silently.

“Hi sweetheart. Sure I’ll take some.”

He could feel her eyes on him, she was too much like him in a lot of ways; she may get her looks from her mom, but she got her brains and her power of observation from her father. Though his career path may not reflect sharp intellect the man was very savvy. He knew Samantha was looking him over, observing every inch from head to toe. However so was he.

“Work is good. Busy lately. Been picking up a lot of new contracts. Though I am thinking of taking some time off while you are home, that is if you want to spend time with your old man. If you just want to do your own thing that is fine, think it over.”

A thought suddenly struck him. He grimaced, he couldn’t remember if he cleaned up the sheet and pillow from the couch this morning. He knew Samantha was coming home, but he had been so damned tired he couldn’t remember. “I’ll be right back Samantha.”

He walked into the living room and swore under his breath. Quickly scooping up the pillow and the sheet, careful not to catch the cushions he balled them up and stuffed them into the hall closet with a soft snarl at his carelessness. How could he be such an idiot? His head was starting to pound now, he needed the caffeine.

Walking back into the kitchen he grumbled “Forgot to clean up a mess this morning.”

Then he turned toward he with a wearing smile he really did look tired “So how is school going? Are you enjoying it so far?”

 

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

Double post

 

[ms_tiff]

With the earth aroma of coffee filling the air, Samantha propped a hip against the countertop. The marble felt cool against her skin as she surveyed her dad.

"School's fine." She replied with a nonchalant shrug. "Just your typical college experience. Classes, parties, boy drama. The usual."

The distance between the two felt like the Grand Canyon. Samantha used to tell her dad everything; nothing had been too much for him to handle. From her first period to her first kiss, Robert knew it all. But, Samantha knew she could never tell him about Clint. Could never tell him about the amazing man she had met who made her feel loved and special and cherished. Her dad just wouldn't understand. Nobody would. Why would a girl in the prime of her life, newly eighteen and just on the verge of womanhood, want to tie herself to a man old enough to be her father? Actually, a man OLDER than her father.

A silence stretched between the pair as Samantha tried to think of how she could turn the conversation. She didn't want her dad asking the wrong questions.

The coffeemaker beeped, signaling the coffee was ready. Grateful for the distraction, Sam busied herself pouring two cups of the rich, dark roast. She handed one mug to Robert and sipped the other one, the steam curling around her face as the black coffee warmed her to the core.

"You sure you can take time off?" She asked, latching on to a comment he'd made earlier about work. "Isn't summer your busy time?"

 

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

Robert watched his daughter intently as she settled on the counter. She had grown since Christmas break; not in a physical sense but in the way she carried herself. She had gained something in school that she had not had before she left, whatever it was it flattered her, he found himself thinking how beautiful his daughter had become.

He listened to her flimsy explanation about school and let the silence stretch. They always had an open dialogue and this fog wall that Sam was putting up really bothered him. However it was not his place to try and break it down, unless it became a problem. He always respected her ability to make good choices if nothing else, the girl had a good head on her shoulders. He would trust her.

The uncomfortable silence stretched and then the coffee saved the day. He took the cup with a quiet ‘thank you’ and sipped at it for a moment.

When she jumped back to work he nodded his head. “It is the busiest time of the year, but you know me doll. I always put people I can trust under me. I can take a week or two off without any issues. If shit hits the fan they can always get ahold of me after all. I just wanted to clear it with you first. It is your vacation after all. I don’t want to monopolize your time if you had plans.”

He sipped his cup again and then smiled at her. “Whatever ‘the usual’ is for college it certainly agrees with you dear. You have changed even since Christmas break. You have always been beautiful, but it is just radiating off of you. I won’t be taking you out to any of my sites, the guys won’t get shit done.” He snorted, then just laughed quietly.

 

[ms_tiff]

“Oh c’mon, Dad.” Sam rolled her eyes in the way of all teens embarrassed by their parents. “You know that your guys are too scared of you to ever ogle the boss’s daughter.” She grinned a little as she said it, her mind conjuring images of the buff men who worked the construction sites. “Besides, I’m not looking to date anyway.” She shrugged, nonchalant.

Sipping the coffee slowly, eyes closed as she savored the delicious dark roast, Samantha’s mind wandered to Clint. Just a few short months and she’d be in his arms again. Twelve weeks. Eighty-four days. She could do it. But just because she was going to be back with him before long didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun in the meantime.

~*~*~​

“Go, be young.” He told her. It was the night before she left and they were cocooned in his bed, the sheets smelling of sex and the woodsy cologne he wore. His arm wrapped around her naked waist, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her hip. “Just don’t forget about this old man.” She could feel his grin as he kissed her shoulder.

She turned to him, nipples brushing against the dark curls on his chest.

“I could never forget you.” She promised. “Besides nobody will ever measure up to you.”

“In more ways than one, I hope.” He chuckled, the laughter reverberating in Samantha’s chest.

Her hand snaked down, wrapping around him. Clint groaned, his hips pushing him further into her grip. Biting her lip, Sam stroked him slowly, savoring the way his body reacted to her lightest touch.

“Clint,” her voice was soft, hesitant to broach the subject that was on her mind.

A guttural “Yes” came from his lips, more a groan of pleasure than a response. She took it as the answer she wanted, however. Trailing her thumb over the wet tip of his cock, Samantha’s eyes sought his.

“What if I don’t want to date anyone else? I mean…what if we made this…us…exclusive.”

His broad hand covered hers, stilling her strokes as he rolled on top. The weight of his body pressing familiarly against her. Burying her nose in the nape of his neck, Samantha inhaled the musk of Clint’s cologne. She gasped as he entered her, stretching the tight walls of her sex. Her fingers dug into his back, nails scraping against his flesh as Clint moved within her, effectively silencing any other questions that may have filled her mind.

~*~*~​

Goosebumps rose on her arms as Samantha remembered the way Clint had driven her to orgasm after orgasm that night. He’d never given her an answer and Samantha took that silence as an answer in and of itself. But was it a yes or no?

Clearing her throat, trying to regain her composure before her dad could see the way the memory turned her on, Samantha smiled up at Robert.

“If you’re sure you have the time to spare, I’d like to spend some time with you, Dad. I don’t mind stopping by the job sites, though. It could be fun seeing some of your old crew. I mean, I practically grew up around most of them.”

 

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

He let out a soft chuckle at her words; giving a non committal snort. “I’m not so sure about that honey. Some of the younger kids don’t seem to know their asshole from a hole in the ground. I’m sure you’ve met plenty of them on campus. Once they get a little older though they realize what is what. Anyway, if you want to come see some of the projects we are doing I’d be happy to show you.”

He smiled warmly at her. It made him happy to see that she was willing to still come see his work. When she was little she used to love to come to his job sites to watch the work being done. All the different machines and processes fascinated her young mind. He had exposed her to anything and everything he possibly could to stimulate her to learn about everything the world had to offer. He was proud to see how far those seeds had grown, and where that curiosity had taken her. Still he felt a sense of pride that she was coming back to the roots and wanting to see the job sites. Maybe it was just the pleasure of a foolish old man taking pleasure where he could in his dismal life, but he didn’t care.

He sipped his coffee for a moment, watching her as she seemed to be thinking about something, then when she snapped back to reality he spoke. “I will go in tomorrow and meet with all the foremen of the different sites, let them know what is going on. If you’d like you can come with.”

He checked his watch and pursed his lips in thought. “we still have a couple of hours until your mom gets home. Anything you need me to take care of for you? Or anything you want to do? I came home early because I knew you’d be here, so I’m wide open to whatever.”

He was really dreading Marissa’s entrance home. He was trying to decide the best way to make things palatable. The last thing anyone needed was tension showing the first night Sam was home. The thought occurred to him. “I am thinking, we all had a long week, maybe we can get take out, or a pizza tonight just so we can all take it easy and catch up without having to stress. What do you think baby doll?”

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out. Looking at the text message he clenched his jaw lightly. It was Marissa sending a not so polite message to him, he didn’t bother to even reply to it. He pushed a breath out through his nose to try and keep his cool, and then turned off the screen of his phone, stuffing it back into his pocket. “Just your mom, reminding me I forgot to do something. I’ll handle it later. It isn’t important right now.”

 

[ms_tiff]

Lying in bed that night, Samantha felt restless. The windows were open to allow the warm evening breeze, but an underlying wetness settled in the air, weighing down on the young woman and making the sheets tangled around her legs feel stifling. Her shorts and tank top clung unpleasantly to her skin and it wasn’t long before Samantha found herself shedding the uncomfortable layers. With a sigh, she settled back into the sheets, the cotton soft against her naked skin.

Dinner had been an awkward affair. After confirming that, yes, she would go with her father to work the next day, the two had unloaded the remaining bags in Samantha’s car. They’d just gotten the last few bags and were closing the trunk when Samantha’s mother pulled into the driveway.

Samantha wasn’t an idiot. She knew that things had gone sour between her parents and, if she was being honest, they’d been going downhill long before Samantha had ever left for college. The tension between the pair was palpable, the very air vibrating with the intensity. Samantha had hidden her cringe at the cursory kiss on the check Marissa had given Robert and vice versa. The family had barely walked through the door before her mother was cracking open a bottle of Merlot and downing glass after glass. She tried not to notice the way her mother had rolled her eyes at anything her dad said or the way her dad had to force himself to speak to her mother, his tone the tight politeness you’d speak to a stranger and not a loved one.

She shifted, the mattress giving way beneath her and the sheets slipping down her torso revealing the soft, creamy flesh of her bare breasts.

She never should have come home. How was she going to take an entire summer of this tension and veiled animosity? Samantha sighed. She should have taken her friends up on their offer of a summer road trip or gone with Clint to Oxford.

A lazy smile pulled at her lips as she thought of Clint. It would have been nice to go with him, help him with his research or whatever else he needed while working on his next book. They could have spent their days exploring the English countryside and their nights exploring each other.

In the moonlight, Samantha could see the hardened pebbles of her nipples, the pink skin taut and aching with need. All these thoughts of Clint had turned her restlessness into something more, something that set her on edge and had her hand slipping slowly down her stomach to the juncture of her thighs. Biting her lip, Samantha brushed one finger against her clit, sparks shooting through her body at the light touch. Did she dare to venture further with her parents’ room just across the hall? Her finger continued its slow, contemplative teasing of her clit. Already she could feel the wetness growing, her body reacting to the faint touch. Slim hips bucked up, wanting more. Needing more.

She couldn’t. Not with her parents so close. Not when she didn’t think she could remain quiet.

With a huff, Samantha slipped from her bed. Grabbing her robe off its hook she tied it around her waist and padded softy across the floor. She slipped down the stairs, her footsteps muffled by the carpet. If she couldn’t sleep…or do other things…might as well get something to drink. She made to turn towards the kitchen, but her eyes caught on something in the living room. A lump on the sofa. A human-sized lump. A lump that looked, in the dim moonlight, very much like her father.

The sight of him curled on the sofa, his long body too big for the furniture, saddened her. A lump formed in her throat as she watched the slow, even way his chest rose and fell with each breath. The light snore as he slept.

Turning around, Sam made her way back up the stairs. She didn’t want to risk waking him by moving around in the kitchen. Didn’t want to risk embarrassing him if he knew she’d seen.

The next morning, Samantha lay in bed awake, listening for movement downstairs. She wanted to make sure that Robert had time to get up and clean away the pillows and sheets before she wandered down. When she was certain that he was up and about, she tugged on her pajamas and headed down.

“Morning, Daddy.” She chirped as she walked into the sunlit kitchen. She gave him a hug, squeezing him tightly, before grabbing a cup of coffee. “So what time should we head out for the site?”

 

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

Dinner had been a terse affair of trying not to set off Marissa. All the while she had been getting hammered. Robert felt so much shame he almost wished Sam had not come home. Marissa was making no effort to hide her disdain or her unhappy state. She wielded her barely checked contempt nearly all night, and it was a relief when dinner was done and the night came to a close.

He had thought about sleeping on the floor in the bedroom with Marissa, but after that he just couldn’t even be around her right now. So he made up the bed on the couch and fell into a fitful sleep. He woke up several times during the night, certain that Samantha was going to come down and find him asleep on the couch. He wasn’t sure why he was so concerned about it. She was an adult, she could handle the truth, why didn’t he just tell her?

Oddly enough when she did come down and find him sleeping on the couch, he had finally fallen into such an exhausted state that he didn’t notice her creep down and back up the stairs.

The morning came and he hastily tucked his bedding back into the closet. After that he fired up the coffee pot. Shortly after that Samantha came down stairs and greeted him and hugged him tightly. He wasn’t sure why she did, it was different from her demeanor yesterday, but he wasn’t about to turn it down. He hugged her back just as tightly, kissing the top of her head fondly; holding onto her for a moment, just cherishing having his daughter back, even for this brief moment.

“Well I figure we can either take it slow, make some breakfast here and take our time and head out afterward, or we can shower, get dressed and grab something on the way. I thought I’d leave it up to you. I’m not sure what kind of schedule you are used to keeping. Most of the guys won’t get on site for at least another two hours. So we have some time either way.”

He finally released her, stepped back and gathered up his own cup of coffee. Taking a tentative sip and looking at his phone for a moment. “Looks like it is going to be warm today. There is one place I do want to stop at to make sure they are accounting for the heat when they make their cement pour. Other than that it is all just for the hell of it, so you can see what is paying for your books.” He winked at her, then frowned

“Now that I am thinking on it. We should get to that site early to make sure they start that pour off correctly, so after you finish your coffee go ahead and grab a shower, then I’ll do the same and we can snitch some food on the way. Sorry, I was hoping to let you take it slow today but this one needs to be done just right.”

 

[ms_tiff]

“I just have to grab a shower and then I’ll be all set to go.” Samantha said. “So, I can be ready in like thirty minutes, forty tops.”

She finished up her breakfast and headed back up to her room. Grabbing her robe from the open suitcase on her floor, she walked across the hall to the bathroom.

As the bathroom filled with steam, Samantha undressed. Her shorts slid down long legs to pool around her feet; soon joined by white lace underwear. The tank top fell to the floor beside her and she stood in front of the mirror, naked. Turning to the side, Sam surveyed her profile. Breasts perky, the light skin tipped by blush pink nipples. The perfect cherry on top. Clint loved to tease those nipples, licking them and rolling them between his fingers. Samantha cupped her breasts, feeling the nipples pebble beneath her palms. Slowly, her hands wandered down over a smooth stomach with just a slight fullness (damn freshman fifteen). Lower her hands traveled, reaching the triangle of soft red curls. Before Clint she had kept herself shaved, thinking that men preferred her sex smooth and hairless. Clint had quickly disagreed with that notion.

“You’re a woman, Samantha.” He had told her, his lips trailing soft kisses along the smooth mound. “You should look like a woman.”

Before her hands could venture lower, Samantha moved into the shower. The hot water hit against her, soothing the tension in her shoulders. Steam fogged the rippled glass door as she pulled it closed. Leaning back against the tiles, their coolness a sharp contrast to the water, Sam propped a leg up on the inside shower ledge. Her fingers inched back towards the tangle of curls, venturing further south until the tip of her index finger brushed, teasingly, against her clit.

A soft moan escaped her lips as her finger moved slowly around the edges of her clit. Close, but not quite touching. Her movements mirroring the way Clint would lick her as her fingers moved over the outer lips of her sex. Already she was dripping with need as she continued her slow assault.

This had not been her intention when she got in the shower, but Samantha had grown used to being touched so frequently that she couldn’t bear to go another minute without pleasure.

A solitary finger pushed inside and Samantha moaned as it slid deeper. With her thumb pressing against her clit she began to slowly fuck herself, all the while wishing that Clint were there to do it himself. Her fingers were a poor substitute for his cock.

Forty-five minutes later Samantha walked down the stairs, hair up in a messy bun and a white, floral sundress hugging her soft curves.

“Alright, Dad, I’m all set.” She grinned.

 

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

While Sam took her shower he went upstairs and went into his bedroom and pulled out some clothes for the day. It was going to be warm, so he pulled out a grey tank top, and a pair of form hugging blue jeans. The jeans were not like his work clothes, they were not covered in grime, and paint, and holes, they were neat and clean and looked as if they were rarely worn. The truth was they were rarely worn. He had clothing that simply rarely saw the light of day because his work was so hard on clothing that it destroyed them, so he purchased cheap, low quality garments that were chewed up and spit out.

He pushed the closet door shut and then paused as he thought he heard Sam shout from the bathroom. Thinking she might need something he padded his way toward the bathroom and just as he was about to raise his fist to knock on the door and call out to her he heard the reality of the situation. She was not shouting out of distress, she was making noises of pleasure.

Flustered beyond words he quickly turned on his heels and made his way back down stairs. His little girl was in the shower masturbating, and he had all but busted her doing it. What the hell?!? What was worse was there was a very small part of him that responded to the sounds she made. He knew it was just because of the tremendous dry spell he was going through with his wife, and she was a young and beautiful woman, but it was his fucking daughter! Christ!

He wrapped both hands around his coffee mug and tried to calm himself. Luckily he had some time to do just that before she came down the stairs. When she did come down the stairs he almost dropped his mug. He had never been uncomfortable around Sam before, but he had never really seen her as a woman before, he had always seen her as his little girl. For the first time in his life he was seeing curves, and thighs, and lips. He was thankful for the fact that he was standing behind the island. He hid his expression behind his mug.

“You look great honey. Give me a bit to shower, then we can head out. I’ll just be a few minutes myself. Make yourself at home while I get ready.”

He composed himself and set down his mug, but there was no hiding the slight hint of arousal perking out from the flimsy pajama bottoms and the thin robe. He strategically walked toward her and kissed her cheek to try and hide it in plain sight by keeping her attention focused on him, but not on the full picture as it were.

Then he headed up the stairs and into his bedroom and scooped up his change of clothing, he scooped up socks and a pair of boxers on his way to the shower.

In the bathroom, still steamy from her bathing he found no respite. She had gotten ready here so the room was filled with the smell of her body wash, and her perfume. Under normal circumstances that wouldn’t have mattered, it would have been a heartwarming thing. However these were not normal circumstances. He pressed himself against the door and sighed. “Fuck.”

Just the scents had turned a slight erecting to a half mast hard on. The plight of a man not getting any, a strong breeze could turn him on. He turned on the water and stripped out of his clothes quickly. He was clinical about washing his body until he got to his groin, the slightest touch sent sparks of warmth surging through his body. He knew this arousal was not going away on its own. Using some of the body wash as lubrication he slowly began to nurture his hard on until he was fully hard, thick, and throbbing. It didn’t take long.

In his mind he did not picture his wife, too much resentment and anger had salted the earth and burnt it to ashes there. That would just ruin what he was doing, instead he pictured one of the internet porn stars he had become quite enamored with, only he could not hold the image. Despite him washing and his soap and shampoo flooding the room he could still smell Samantha all over the bathroom and that was enough to keep having her intrude on this private moment. The first time it happened his hand flew off his cock like it was a hot stove eye. His concentration shattered like a window with a brick thrown through it.

Tentatively he tried again, slowly gripping himself, and he shuddered in bliss; his other hand gently tugging and kneading at the full swollen sac beneath. His mind drifted back to his go to girl and things were going well until he drew a deep breath and there was Sam’s scent again. Her image flooded his mind once again, his hand mid stroke of his length and instead of interrupting, he didn’t have the control to stop that time. The strangest, and perhaps, most disturbing thing happened. When her image flooded his mind he felt himself twitch and fire surged through his groin like nothing he had ever felt before. He let out a low groan of pleasure without meaning to and realized he almost had an orgasm right then and there.

What the fuck was going on? Was he attracted to his daughter? No. That wasn’t it. It had to be transference. Her mother was freezing him out and since she was a representation of a younger version of her mother he felt a draw to her. The powerful love he felt for her was being twisted by his overwhelming sexual desire. That was all. This was not sexual attraction to his daughter. Content to have rationalized it all he put all his mental energy into focusing on finishing his orgasm without any internal stimulus. That was just better, safer.

He finished washing and then stepped out of the shower, feeling better and refreshed. He contemplated shaving off the scruff, but decided against it. He ran a comb through his hair, and went through his grooming rituals and then dressed. It was his turn to descend the stairs, looking for Sam.

He smiled at her “Alright, all set. Ready to roll?”