For most of my life I have had an extreme interest in “cheesecake”. Now, for those of you who are under forty, “cheesecake” was the old term for pin-ups or slightly naughty pictures of women. I would guess that at this time my collection consists of over 100,000 images. Now, many of them are more explicit than would ever fit under the definition of “cheesecake” or pin-ups, but those definitions work for me.
I haven’t made a point of mentioning my collection to my wife, and she has never expressed an interest in what was in my collection. That was the state of things right up until she died of a heart attack, four years ago. Now, I am in my sixties, overweight, diabetic, and single. The images plus a vibrator, since I can no longer get an erection due to poor blood flow, provide a minimal sort of relief. I say minimal because there is nothing like a long session of cuddling followed by a good sixty-nine play time. I had just about resigned myself to this remaining the case when help came from a highly unusual direction. But, more about that later.
My wife and I had two children; a son and a daughter. Our son, Mark, lived on the “left coast” and was all but married to his job. Our daughter, Violet, lived two states away. Her marriage had been good, but childless. Her husband was of German descent and their sir name was Schwartz. She and her husband had good teaching jobs, and as it turned out, excellent insurance. I’ve always been proud of my daughter. She has a MS in computer science and is an excellent programmer. I heard from them every week or two and they visited once or twice a year. That is, until the accident.
A drunk driver came across the median and hit their left front at about a forty-five degree angle. Unfortunately he was doing over ninety at the time and was driving a big car. My son-in-law died instantly. He probably had only a second or so to realize what was happening. My daughter lived, but spent six months in the hospital. When she was ready to be discharged she had very limited vision in one eye, and none in the other. Her face was scarred enough, even after the re-constructive plastic surgery, so that even I couldn’t easily recognize her. She couldn’t stand up for long periods of time so teaching was a thing of the past. She was emotionally deeply scarred, and felt very alone.
As her father, I had to do something to help so I invited her to move back home. It only took her a few moments to say yes. She made one request that I couldn’t initially figure out. She wanted me to tell anyone who asked that she was Miss Schwartz.
She sold their house and most of its contents. With the insurance pay out and the settlement from the drunk’s estate (in seven figures) she had a savings of over four million dollars. Since I had made my living as a financial analyst I organized her finances so that she had some liquidity but that she also had extremely safe long term investments at a very good interest rate.
She only kept items that had sentimental value for her; so she only needed a small moving truck to bring them to my house. In turn, I emptied out her old room and the guest room and turned them into her area.
Things might have simply plodded along if it hadn’t been for a strange twist of fate. A few months after she came home my computer developed a bad “glitch” that made it unusable on line. I tried all the normal things to fix it, but to no avail. Without a lot of forethought I asked Violet to look at my machine and see if she could fix it. Her limited vision slowed her down, but she could see enough to run the computer. She pulled out my hard drive and connected it into her machine so that she could use what she called “real tools” to see what the problem was.
I was in the living room minding my own business reading a novel when she came in and sat down on the couch with me. I have always found it difficult to read her expressions. With her scars it was now impossible. However, I could still read her tone of voice. When she started speaking, I thought I detected a strange mixture of sadness, and something escort ataşehir else I couldn’t pinpoint.
“Dad, you’ve been awfully lonely haven’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Yes, Violet, I have been very much alone in many ways for the last four years.”
“Dad, I need to pry into your private life a bit. Will you be angry with me if I do?”
“I’ll try not to be, but I may try to avoid some questions.”
“How has your sex life been?”
I hadn’t expected that pointed a question so I tried to finesse it.
“It’s been better.” Then she hit me with the big question. “How long has it been since you have had sex with a woman?”
I sputtered a bit, bit my tongue, then answered her “since your mother died”.
I sat there quietly as she leaned into my shoulder. She was gently crying.
“What’s wrong sweetheart? Can I help you?” She shook her head no.
“It’s my turn to ask a question. What made you ask me your questions?”
“Your hard drive! The problem that you have been having is that you have almost all of your 30 Gig hard drive full. Now, you have an old computer, but no computer likes to have less than 10% of the hard drive left free. Your drive was within 0.5% of totally full. “To see what was taking up all the room I did a search on file size. I looked for data files of greater than five Meg at first. Up came lists of XXX rated movies, mostly of women giving men hand jobs or blow jobs. I then searched for files over 1 Meg and found over 150,000 image files of beautiful women. If you are so intent on sex, why haven’t you found someone you could become intimate with?”
My dark little secret had been partially discovered. I told her that I would answer her question, but that she might not like the answer.
“Tell me, Dad.”
“This problem dates back to before your mother died. I have a severe blood flow problem in my lower abdomen. Specifically I can’t get an erection. At most I end up partially full but not enough to enter any woman. Your mother and I solved the problem by learning to enjoy sixty-nine; but then she died. The closest thing I have had since then has been a vibrator and my pictures.”
Violet was crying and hugging me harder now. I knew that she cared about me, but this had to involve more than that.
“Baby, what’s wrong? You can tell me anything and I won’t breath a word of it to anyone.”
“Dad, you only know of part of my injuries. Do to the accident they had to do a complete hysterectomy plus taking most of my vagina. I will never again have regular sex, and I loved sex almost as much as I loved my husband and almost as much as I loved you and mom. We are both locked off from the thing that gave us much pleasure. It seems so unfair.”
“I am so sorry to hear about your problem. If your mom had had that problem we would have been able to alleviate it with sixty nine and cuddling. After all, we would have then been a sort of defective matched set.” I purposely chuckled at that point, trying to ease up on the heavy atmosphere.
My daughter calmed down a bit and seemed to be thinking.
“A penny for your thoughts.”
“I can’t share them, dad. I don’t want to make you think badly of me.”
“That can’t happen! You are my family and you are stuck with me!”
She smiled at me and went back to holding my arm. A couple of minutes went by and I felt her hand on my thigh. I didn’t think too much of that until her hand moved up my thigh and down between my legs.
“Do you have any idea what you are doing to me? That is a dangerous move, and one that shouldn’t happen between a father and a daughter.”
“I know. But, we both have needs that can only be met by some creative partnership. I submit that doing sixty-nine and cuddling or mutual bathing do not violate the rules against intercourse between close relatives. Even if they did, I am barren and cannot have children so no genetic damage could result anyway. I need to feel physically loved.”
Her argument sounded good to me, but then again kadıköy escort bayan I am not a disinterested observer.
“Well, daughter of mine, there are more optimum ways to handle this situation. You may not know it, since we didn’t advertise it, but your mother and I put in a heated whirlpool bath. It hasn’t been used in a while but I suspect that it will operate as well as it ever did.
“It is almost dinner time. How about I cook up a couple of T-bone steaks, hash browns with onions, break out some good dark beer and then we retire to the whirlpool. Would that be acceptable to you?”
My answer was a warm kiss on the mouth and a hand groping at my balls. We were both smiling.
I went to the freezer and got out two T-bone steaks, washed and cut up potatoes and an onion, fired up the gas grill, put the potato and onion in a covered frying pan with olive oil, salt and pepper, and proceeded to start the has browns on the grill’s second cook top. Then the steaks went on the grill, set to low with the lid closed. While the steaks were started I made a basting sauce my grandfather came up with. I melted a quarter of a stick of butter and laced it heavily with garlic, pepper, and Worcester sauce. By this time the first side of the steaks had thawed and started to brown. I turned the steaks over and brushed the sauce on the partially browned side, closed the cover and waited for the second side to start to brown.
In less than twenty minutes we had our meat and potatoes on plates and were sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. I had opened two Yuengling Amber Lager beers and we were ready. I said grace, returning thanks for the blessings we have been given, and we started to eat.
I don’t think either of us had our minds focused on the food. I kept looking over at Violet’s cleavage (she had changed blouses) and she just looked happily expectant. We finished the food, and I put the dishes in the sink telling her I would wash them later.
We went up the stairs arm in arm and went to my bedroom. I had already turned up the temperature in the bathroom and bedroom so that it was about eighty degrees. (Eighty degrees feels very comfortable when you have no clothes on.)
I entered the bathroom and started to fill the tub. When I returned to the bedroom Violet was still dressed. She turned to me and said: “Why don’t we undress each other?” I liked that idea. She started by unbuttoning my shirt and removing it. She proceeded to remove my outer and under pants. (I had already kicked off my shoes.)
I started out by unbuttoning her blouse. Her breasts were supported by an almost transparent bra that barely covered her nipples. I must have been drooling. I removed her outer pants and then took off her shoes and socks. I then had a dilemma, should I remove the bra or panties first. I chose to remove the bra. Her breasts were beautiful. I leaned down and licked one of her nipples before continuing. She moaned as I licked and sucked on it. I continued this breast attention as I reached down and slid her pants down over her rump. She stepped out of them and we embraced.
“Dad, when did you start shaving your balls and pubic area?”
“When your mom and I were enjoying sixty-nine we found that hair in that area could trap smells that we didn’t care for. Both of us shaved. I had gotten in the habit, found the shaving to be a bit exciting, and continued it. I see that you also have shaved your “nether regions. Was it for similar reasons?”
“Let’s go and get in the tub.”
We went into the bathroom and eased down into the hot water. It felt good. I reached over and turned on the switches for the heaters and the pumps. Soon we were embracing while pulsating jets of water swiped up and down our bodies. I have no idea how long we continued to do what we were doing; but it must have been the better part of an hour or so. At long last we decided to get out of the tub. I turned everything off, and opened the drain.
We got out of the tub and under the ceiling infra red lamps as we escort bostancı dried off. I dried her and she dried me. I brought a small bottle of sandalwood massage oil with me, from the bathroom. I had Violet lay down while I proceeded to oil and massage her back and legs. With them done I had her turn over and massaged her starting out at her feet. I bypassed her pussy and moved up her torso to her breasts, which I spent a lot of time on. By this point she was urging me to stop the massage so we could start playing with each other.
I grinned and slid down so that my face was at her pussy. I lifted her butt and slid a pillow under it. Then I started to kiss her inner thighs, moving up toward the goal! I took my time kissing and licking her. as I approached her slit I licked lightly from the very bottom to the top and then kissed my way down again to the bottom. By her sounds I knew that she was enjoying this. I then started to spread her lips and lick inside. So far I avoided contact with her clit. After a few minutes she asked me to step up the pace. I started to lick more intensely and started to lick and suck on her clit. By this time her hips were moving in time with my licking. I gently inserted a finger into what was left of her vagina. There was room for up to the second joint of my index finger. I proceeded to move my finger in and out while driving her crazy with sucking her clit. She exploded in a violent orgasm. She told me to stop and lay down on the bed. I did.
She had me put the pillow under my butt and then started to play with my balls with her tongue and then by sucking one or the other (and even both) into her mouth and gently tugging on them. I was being driven up the wall. It felt so good to have someone else making me feel good. At some point, she started to kiss her way up my dick. She found out relatively quickly that I indeed couldn’t get hard. That didn’t seem to bother her. She started to lick and suck on the head of my dick. It felt wonderful! After several minutes I realized that I was approaching orgasm. I warned her that I was about to cum, but she kept on doing what she was doing. I went over the edge and she had no trouble swallowing the miniature load that was all I could produce anymore.
We cuddled for a bit before Violet suggested going sixty-nine. It was worth a shot, so we “swapped ends” and got to work. I was on the bottom and she straddled my chest placing her beautiful smooth pussy lips at my mouth. At the same time she started to play with my balls with her left hand while her right hand held my dick in her mouth. We both worked furiously to try to make the other reach another orgasm. She reached one relatively quickly. It took about twenty minutes before I arrived at one. We then went back to cuddling.
After an hour or so of cuddling, we decided to take a shower. Obviously it was a coed shower. I soaped her up and washed her, stopping for a while to eat her out again; and she soaped and washed me, paying particular attention to my nuts and cock. After drying each other off and getting into robes, we sat down in the living room.
I had to ask a question that I really didn’t want to ask: “I need your take on the fun we had this afternoon. Do you want this to be a one time thing? What limits should we put on this, if any?”
“I hadn’t thought of it before, but my first impression is that it was so good we should continue on this way. Since you have let people know I am Miss Schwartz, there isn’t anyone who would know that I’m your daughter. Mark hasn’t seen me in years, and wouldn’t recognize me now. He doesn’t need to know. I don’t see why we can’t continue this long term, can you?”
“No, I can’t! I was hoping that you would think that way. If you have any reservations, at all, I’d rather call this a one time slip than hurt you.”
“No! This solves problems for both of us. Neither of us can have a normal sex life. My disfigurement is not likely to attract a man who would also be happy to not have normal sex. I think we are good medicine for each other.”
Well, it’s been five years now, as of next month. Things are very good. I’ve dumped most of my hard drive’s collection. We’ve even taken some digital photos and digital movies of our own activities. But that is a story for a different time. That’s all I want to tell you at the moment.