Wet Dreams and Dry Nightmares Ch. 02

And then things got really interesting.
I woke up from a long nap after dragging myself home at sunlight. I had wild dreams that made for an uneasy sleep. It was probably 10 or 11 in the morning when I finally got up.
To be honest, everything in my life was dream-like lately, what with the pandemic finally slowing a little and my daughter and I home alone for more than a year and the two of us dancing around the obvious, which was that we were both harboring pent-up emotions and sexual yearnings that we just couldn't talk about.
It had been going on for several months, starting with the warm weather finally allowing us to at least go outside and lounge by the pool. Once summer arrived, we were both like caged animals, scheming to get out to do something, anything, even if it was wrong.
We were worn down by the lockdown and vulnerable to our own libidos, which was raging inside of me, and as I was to find out, inside Blake too. But I had no idea how willing she was to escape the chains and the unwritten laws of propriety.
She wanted a release, and she didn't care who helped her get it. I was blindsided by what transpired when we finally allowed ourselves to explore, not only the world outside our walls but inside them too.
My first night out revealed our deepest, darkest intentions. I was lured into a world of taboo. And it was my daughter who lured me in.
At first I didn't hear anything as I got dressed, the next morning. I slowly got my bearings, shook off the webs of dreams and nightmares, both of which had actually occurred the night before, and walked out of the bedroom.
Once in the hallway, though, I heard noises coming from Blake's room.
I crept closer, noticing the door was slightly ajar, no more than an inch or so, but from the hall looking through the crack, I had a clear view of my daughter in her bed, sitting up naked, her legs wide apart and a laptop between them.
I shook my head, the reality of last night overcoming me again. And as wrong as it was for me to be standing there, I was frozen. I couldn't turn away.
The noises were coming from the laptop other than a few moans from Blake. The noises were clearly feminine though muffled until I heard the laugh. It was Brenda Baker.
The scene was incredible. Every now and then, Blake would slide a hand to her pussy, raising her knees, exposing everything to Brenda, who was moaning a lot. I was mesmerized by my daughter, her perfect body on display for the woman I'd just spent the night with.
My cock was hard as a rock, though still painful from the marathon night before. I listened to Brenda's moans, which became more pronounced, and watched Blake's reaction, sliding her fingers in and out of her soaking wet pussy.
It was intoxicating.
And then I heard my name.
It came in the middle of sentences I couldn't make out, but I watched Blake close her eyes and masturbate furiously every time she heard it.
Brenda was apparently doing the same thing on the screen, the two of them engaged in a cam show that was slowly soaking Blake's bed and somehow involved me, or at least the idea of me.
And then I heard something that froze my blood. Or maybe it enflamed it. But it's still seared in my head.
"Fuck me Daddy," Blake said. "Fuck me hard."
Brenda was now more vocal on the other end, and I could more plainly hear what she was saying.
"Fuck her Charlie," she yelled. "Fuck your daughter!"
Blake suddenly erupted, lifting her hips completely off the bed in a blasting orgasm, squirting like a garden hose as she grit her teeth and made animal sounds.
"Ghaaaaaaad damn, Daddy! Fuck meeeeee!"
Brenda was egging her on.
"Fuck her Charlie. ankara escort Shove that big cock in your daughter. Fuck her like you fucked me last night. Make her your fucking slut!"
Blake came over and over, waves of cum squirting all over the place, her arms, her legs, her laptop, the sheets, which now had a large pool of cum around her. The orgasms subsided slowly, in jerks and aftershocks, as Blake slowly sank into her pool of cum, Brenda cooing and purring on the other end.
"That's a good girl. That's daddy's little girl. Such a whore. Such a good little whore."
Blake collapsed into the sheets, her legs splayed, her tongue hanging out, her hair matted in sweat and her own cum, the room smelling like sex, intoxicating and powerful, like nothing I'd ever witnessed or experienced.
My heart was racing. My cock was twitching madly. I was sweating and feeling a little dizzy as I slowly backed away, tiptoeing back to my room and quietly closing my door.
I slid under the sheets and lay there, feeling my heartbeat, hearing it in my head against the pillow, wide awake, eyes wide open, my hand furiously stroking my cock.
Eventually, I fell back asleep exhausted, my cum splattered all over me and the sheets. When I awoke, the house was quiet. No noises coming from Blake's room. No noise at all.
I got up, dressed again and walked into the hallway, past her room and to the top of the stairs. Still no noise.
I quietly went down the steps and into the kitchen to look out the window, and there she was. Sunning on her chaise lounge. Naked as a jaybird, lying on her back, her legs hanging on either side, both hands on her pussy, masturbating in the open air.
I watched for several minutes, wanting so badly to go outside and let things take care of themselves. But I didn't. I walked back upstairs and into her room, leaning face down on her still damp bed and breathed in the smells of my horny daughter, the cum-soaked sheets and the overpowering aroma of her cum.
I wiped my face all in it, covering it like a dog in a yard, her essence wetting my face, her intoxicating smell making my cock hard and my knees weak.
That's when I decided to go out onto the pool deck.
My heart pounding, not knowing what was getting ready to happen, my head spinning as I breathed in her odor and walked toward something that felt wrong but inevitable.
I had to know how this would turn out. I was drawn to her. It was wrong. But I was powerless. I wanted to fuck my daughter.
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Life comes at you fast, they say. Whoever they is.
Whatever you expect will happen is almost never how it turns out. There's always a twist, an unexpected turn that changes our expectations slightly if not completely.
The previous 24 hours had changed me forever. I'd seen and heard things I never dreamed of. I'd been with a married woman, married to a man I played golf with. I'd fucked her raw the night before, and she still wanted more.
I'd held her head down on my cock while my daughter watched online. And then I watched my daughter live, masturbating like a caged cat, begging me to fuck her while the woman I fucked last night egged her on.
It was a life-altering 24 hours. I felt shame and guilt. I felt sin in my heart, taboo thoughts in my head, wrong thoughts that I knew I would never get out.
And deep down, I didn't want them to. I was a prisoner to them.
As I walked out of the kitchen and onto the deck leading to our pool, I could only think of one thing. The smell of my daughter's cunt. And the wonton desire to fuck her like she wanted me to.
But then, life happens.
Blake ankara escort bayan was no longer sunning by the pool. She was in the water, wearing a one-piece bathing suit, fire-engine red. She was at the water's edge, her arms and elbows holding her in place, her sunglasses covering her eyes while she had an animated conversation on her cell phone.
I stood there speechless, embarrassed and awkward when she noticed me and motioned for me to come on out. Laughing and chatting all the while, barely acknowledging me as I stood there smelling like her pussy, the inappropriate urge welling inside me but retreating deep into my imagination.
I shook my head and walked to the edge of the pool, diving right over her head and into the cool, cleansing waters, swimming to the deep end, washing my face and her body liquids from my nose.
When I came up for air, she was out of the water, still chatting, looking nothing like the naked slut I'd seen earlier, cum spewing from her cunt, asking her father to fuck her harder as she covered her bed in her juices.
No, she looked like my daughter again, innocent and beautiful, dressed conservatively in a fiery swimsuit, her long tanned legs crossed matronly as she sat at a table and drank ice water.
I stared at her, and I'm sure she was staring at me from behind her dark shades when suddenly, the pulled the phone away from her ear and said "Oh Daddy," singing it in a voice that made me smile. "Your date's not over yet. Brenda's coming over in a little while. You need to be presentable."
And then she was on the phone again, laughing and chatting as if I wasn't even there. I walked out of the pool, dripping wet, walking past her to grab a towel. She held out her clinched hand as I walked by and we pumped fists.
I have no idea who my daughter is anymore, I thought as I wrapped a towel around me and walked into the kitchen. I needed a drink. This unplanned evening could go any direction, and I needed to stay light on my feet.
I went upstairs, showered, shaved and dressed. I wasn't dressed to impress. I wanted to be my old self, dressed casually in khakis and my usual white oxford (though I did button it), leaving the shirt tail out. I pulled out my penny loafers for the first time in a year or more and looked in the full length mirror on the back of my bedroom door.
"Who is that?!" I said to myself, looking at a man I knew long ago.
I was still that guy in a sense, tall and tanned, decent shape, my hair still mostly black with a few gray hairs mixed in. It dawned on me that I hadn't really looked at myself since the lockdown, at least nothing more than to comb my hair or wash my face.
I stared for a long time, thinking back to when Barb was alive, wondering if she were here would any of this even enter my mind, fretting that maybe she was watching it all from above, mortified at what we'd become.
But looking at myself in the mirror, I knew I was basically the same man I was before the pandemic, before I gave up weekend trips to the beach, fishing trips at the lake, golfing with my old buddies.
I thought to myself, was Jim really one of my friends? I didn't like him very much. He was a braggart and a cheater at golf, and it suddenly occurred to me that I didn't mind one bit that I'd fucked his wife's brains out the night before, in his own bed.
In fact, it was at that moment, looking into the mirror, that I totally surrendered to what had already happened and what was to come.
I looked good, I thought. Brenda and Blake aren't just a couple of horny, sex-crazed women. They wanted ME. And as wrong and inappropriate as that was, I decided right then and there to stop worrying escort ankara and playing coy. I wanted them too.
Both of them.
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Brenda told Blake she'd come over about 8, which gave me time to run to the store and pick up steaks and baking potatoes, fresh greens for a salad and three fat ears of corn.
Then I went to Wine World and picked out a case of my favorites, old-country burgundies and clean trendy cabs from Napa. I picked out a Chianti I remembered from our trip to Italy back before Blake was even born. I bought blends and shiraz, merlot and zins, and I hauled it all home in a cardboard box.
When I got home, Brenda was already there, sitting at a table by the pool, in a sundress, dripping in gold from her neck and wrists, sexy sandals on her crossed feet under the table.
"Hey Charlie," she said as I opened the gate to the pool. "Surprise!"
Blake was upstairs changing, and I felt a charge of electricity standing there with Brenda again, less than 24 hours after the wildest night of sex in my entire life.
I leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, lingering just for a second. It was confident and somewhat possessive. I smiled and walked to the deck.
"Want to help me bring this stuff in?" I asked as she rose and opened the door for me. I kissed her again, holding the cardboard box between us. "I'm glad you're here. You look great."
She blushed. This was hardly the sex-starved panther who'd submitted entirely to me the night before. This was a pretty, middle-aged housewife, openly cheating on her dead-beat husband, at another man's house with intentions of picking up where she left off the night before.
Only this time, it was going to be better. Even more taboo, more charged with dangerous emotions and acting out insane fantasies. I saw all that in her eyes as I placed the box on the island, turned and took her in my arms.
I pulled her tight against me, slid my hands down, sliding up her dress and cupping her bare ass.
"Last night was about you," I whispered in her ear, my fingers probing her ass crack as she shuddered and gasped. "Tonight is about me."
I let her go, smacked her hard on her ass and led her out the door through the pool gate and to my convertible, where the back seat was filled with bags.
We loaded up and walked back into the house, her ahead of me, her ass begging me as I reached over her shoulder and opened the gate.
She was smiling, but there was something else in her eyes.
"I like you like this," she said. "I like a man who knows what he wants and just takes it."
We lingered in the gate opening, staring into each other's eyes. We knew there was something else neither of us wanted to mention, someone else who would be with us tonight in some shape or form.
That someone was standing at the kitchen door, watching us, her hand on her hip, waiting for us to notice her.
Blake was dressed in white, a sundress I'd never seen before, stark and loose-fitting, the top two buttons undone, showing the roundness of her perfect teenage tits, the lights of the kitchen behind her, shaping the silhouette beneath her dress. She was naked underneath.
"You two get a room or something," she said, breaking the intense atmosphere and inviting us to join her in the kitchen. "Daddy, you need to get the grill started. Bren, you need to help me in here."
Brenda and I exchanged glances. We were both thinking the same thing. Blake was in charge of this evening, not her father and not their guest.
What happened next, the events of the night that followed, would change us forever. This was the end of the lockdown and the beginning of a new life, a new lifestyle and a new approach to a living in a changed world outside our walls.
Our life would no longer involve anyone else. The three of us sensed that at that moment. Or at least Brenda and I sensed it.
Blake was way ahead of us.
(To be continued)