The Sick Day Pt2
Despite being shrouded in a burning fever that made every limb feel as weak as a newborn baby's and caused each joint to ache incessantly, George Foley was a man on a morning mission. Drawn from the comfort of his sickbed by the illicit liaison about to take place under his own roof, he hovered like a spectre at son Josh's bedroom door. Anxious not to be found out, the middle-aged man cursed a throat that seemed intent upon hacking, coughing and spluttering.
Having earlier that morning overheard stepdaughter Lucy's startling telephone confession, George's mind was awash with thoughts, some grim, some alluring. A visual interpretation of the recent escapade between the seemingly innocent sixteen-year-old and her marginally older stepbrother, his son, that had in turn culminated in a bout of mutual masturbation, had etched itself indelibly upon George's troubled brain. Though admittedly there was no blood tie between the pair, they were family after all and something about that made a sexual relationship inherently wrong.
As he stood by, George tried to rationalise the whole sorry affair. Maybe the tragic circumstances of their upbringing, during which both mothers were killed at an early age, had conspired to bring the teenaged pair closer than a lot of blood siblings, the shared tragedy an unreakable bind. Indeed, together with George, the rock of the family, they had for sixteen years formed an unbreakable and inseparable trilogy. Consequently, the idea of sexual relations between them appalled George, or was there more to it than that?
For, at the same time, perversely the tryst intrigued the voyeur within him. Hence, somewhat against his will and a better nature, George found himself at Josh's bedroom door, listening in and angling to see what was happening. Stood among hastily discarded shoes and socks, Josh's jeans and Lucy's t-shirt and white panties that littered the landing, George fought to control his breathing and his rising anger. From inside, an unmistakable light moaning and passionate whimpering heralded the bout of foreplay that got things underway.
George's throat ached and his body pulsed painfully all over, each nerve ending seemingly on fire. On top of that, his heart thumped perpetually against his ribcage and an inflated cock throbbed uncontrollably in his pyjamas. This really was no enviable position in which he found himself, his own sickness a mini metaphor for the sickness that had his family in its grip.
Having crept to the threshhold of Josh's bedroom, he'd been forced to pass Lucy's. A pastel parlour cluttered with cuddly toys and trinkets, with posters of boy bands and movie stars littering the walls, it was a typical young girl's sanctuary. George's heart sank with deep regret at losing the innocent stepdaughter he'd raised as his own from an early age to impending womanhood.
Still not quite able to see and perhaps subconsciously not wanting to, from inside Josh's room, George could make out the sound of eager kissing, accompanied by encouraging words that spilled enthusiastically from Lucy's lips. It was as if she, and not the more experienced Josh, was the driving force behind the illicit union. Her panted desire and whimpered lust rocked him to the very core.
All rational thought lost to the fever, George found he could barely contain his envy for Josh. Doubtless this was every teen boy's dream: a sexy and na? blonde bursting with hormones and horny as hell served up on a plate. As he hovered, hand on the doorknob, a picture formed in George's mind of Josh suckling on Lucy's firm pink nipples as she threw back her head and moaned wantonly. Within seconds, the image was not of his son but of George himself feasting hungrily on Lucy's attentive nipples. The fact was, he wanted Lucy.
Then suddenly and unexpectedly George spluttered, hacking from the back of his furnace-laced throat. In the deathly still of the house, the cough echoed loudly like a dog's bark in a quiet neighbourhood. Thereafter, things just seemed to stand still, resembling a paused video, until heightened movement in Josh's room finally broke the still.
Lucy emerged first, panic-stricken and wrapped hastily in her stepbrother's dressing gown to cover her nudity. Eyes wide from shock, she briefly surveyed her stepfather on the landing, wondering what he might or might not have witnessed. Deftly she gathered up the discarded clothes hoping no doubt that he hadn't noticed and that the whole sorry situation could be explained rationally later. "Daddy, what is it? What are you…what are you doing at home?" she enquired in a high pitch, cheeks flushed with a combination of unfulfilled desire and embarrassment.
George glanced over at her with a pained expression, rasping about the sickness and already wondering whether the fever had in fact caused him to have a vision and that all this was a symptom of the sickness. Acting quickly and, with genuine concern for his wellbeing, Lucy ushered the patient back to his room. George consented, the vicinity of his stepdaughter's firm young body to his own bringing a warm feeling. In his delirium, the old man's stray hand went unchecked as it slid all the way down her spine to cup a lovely young arsecheek 'for support'. Still in a state of arousal from earlier, his cock rubbed against the bare skin of her leg whilst the stubbly surface of a middle-aged cheek brushed a cherry ripe nipple as he clung firmly like a baby craving attention.
But all too quickly she let go, the bed rising to greet his wearisome body. Though he craved rest like nothing else in the world, George slumped down disconsolately. Leaning over, Lucy placed a soothing palm on his sweat-covered forehead, moulding her sweet lips into a caring smile. Unbeknown to Lucy, as she craned forward, the ill-fitting dressing gown that belonged to her stepbrother parted down the middle, exposing a pair of perfectly formed pear-shaped breasts. The nipples stood defiantly erect, still perky from earlier. In a semi-conscious state, George sighed wantonly, the pitch mutating to a low moan. "Oh, poor daddy," Lucy observed, misreading the signal.
George's pained expression implored her to stay and for sleep to be deferred, but she uncoupled and rose to depart, turning away from the patient, eyes widening in surprise as the mirror reflected back her exposed young breasts. Hastily she covered up, issuing the promise: "I'll be back soon, daddy. And I'll bring you a nice hot drink."
George smiled thinly, ailing yet anxious to learn of the ramifications of his unexpected intervention. As Lucy closed the door behind, he craned, ear as close as possible. A brief exchange of muted words took place the other side on the landing, with Josh at his most persuasive. Yet it was not to be, the debate concluded by Lucy's taciturn order: "No, Josh, not now, not with dad in the house."
A smug self-satisfied smile settled upon George's ravaged features. Seconds later the stairs were heavy with footsteps, following which the front door slammed, marking Josh's departure. Having managed to railroad the unholy coupling, George was at last able to relax and to allow sleep to enfold him like an angel's wings.
When the patient awoke, a glass of hot lemon stood cooling on the bedside table. Sweating profusely, mouth fiery and dry, he heaved up through the drenched covers, resting his weary body on top in profile and supping gratefully from the glass. Regrettably, however, each gulp brought a gravel-like pain. Far too hot to slip back inside the bedsheets, George opened the top few buttons on the pyjama top for ventilation and lay back on top of the bed, feeling sorry for himself.
Half an hour, maybe more, passed deep in reflection, before footsteps caused the stairs to creak and deliver George back from semi-consciousness. A little more fully dressed now than when they'd met face-to-face earlier, Lucy came to perch on the edge of the bed like a little sunbeam. Her little tight white t-shirt bore the legend 'Princess' in silver lettering, causing George to sigh in a whimsical manner. Unforgivably, his eyes lowered, observing a pair of yellow hotpants that barely covered a quarter of her thighs. Lucy's long blonde hair, freshly washed and wafting tea tree mint, spilled free over her shoulders. The scent that permeated even the vagaries of the fever gave George an instant lift. A benign smile on her face, Lucy leaned over to place a gentle kiss on his brow. "How are you feeling now, daddy?"
George's mouth formed a pained frown as he sought attention, the resultant cough speaking for itself. "Ah, poor daddy," Lucy sympathised. "You need more sleep. I'll leave you in peace."
George's head shouted 'no' but he was unable to vocalize the request and to his dismay Lucy left the room. She did, however, return moments later with a bottle of sleeping pills, telling him to take two. George thanked her with a half-smile. "I'll check on you later, daddy," she promised.
An indeterminable time passed before the door opened once again, met by George's left eyelid raising a fraction. Perhaps if he pretended to be asleep, this time Lucy might stay longer. His lovely stepdaughter smiled in the manner one naturally does when encountering a sleeping person, resting her backside on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb. George sighed 'in his sleep', muttering incoherent words to maintain the ruse. It must have worked, for Lucy extended a hand to stroke the forest of hairs at his chest that was exposed by the half-opened pyjama top.
George's chest inflated with the motion of breathing as lovingly Lucy caressed, circling his nipples. Her smooth palm flat, she gathered a mass of chest hairs in her tiny fingers, combing lovingly, whilst her stepfather's heart raced below. George willed her to continue, though was sure she'd soon enough see sense and fly off like a scolded cat. Yet, instead of buttoning him up and departing as she should surely have done, after a moment's reflection, Lucy did the opposite: undoing the fastened pair of buttons at the bottom of the pyjama top to expose his torso fully. Clearly she believed he was out for the count, though George's lethargy meant that the sedatives had remained untouched.
With his stepdaughter in such close proximity – doing that, and looking like that – a rush of blood caused George's cock to throb uncontrollably, the head protruding slightly through the fly of his pyjama bottoms. Soon he was aware of the air of the room rushing around the partly exposed penis top. Lucy, however, seemed to remain blissfully unaware. Lowering her palms, she caressed his belly, moving down to finger the wisp of hair beneath his navel. George's breath upped a notch the lower she stroked, hands getting dangerously close to the elasticated strip around his hips, inches from his penis. His brain flooding with excitement, George's cock grew to semi-hardness, expanding to poke all the way through to rest upon his navel.
Yet still Lucy acted as if she hadn't noticed, and it may have been that she hadn't realised the effect this was having on her stepfather. That was until, unexpectedly, the edge of her small hand brushed the glazed purple tip. Quickly she pulled away, as if having touched a hot radiator. Eyes squeezed tight to maintain the pretence of sleep George could nonetheless feel her eyes boring into his groin, surveying and appraising his manhood. "Dad?" she whispered. "Are you awake?"
Naturally George continued to feign sleep, breathing deeply and muttering gibberish. "Dad?" she reiterated, a little louder, a little purr vibrating on her lips. Though he couln't see, George knew exactly what she was looking at, confirmed when she observed breathily: "Oh daddy, so big."
In those words, any remaining innocence Lucy might have maintained was betrayed to lust. It occurred to George that perhaps his little girl knew exactly what she was doing all along, and that Josh had merely been there in the right place at the right time. Either way, he suspected that what had happened with his son was the catalyst for this newfound carnal urge in the sweet young teen adoptee. He shivered as a hand stroked an inner thigh and Lucy adjusted position, fingers squeezing his balls through the thin material of the pyjamas. After a little girlish sigh of appreciation, tentatively she placed a fingertip on the shaft. "Oh daddy, so much bigger than Josh," she breathed.
Her words caused George to sigh also, which in turn prompted Lucy to retract. He dared not look, even the merest peep, inwardly imploring a continuation. Breaking into a theatrical deep snoring motion, George tried desperately to resurrect the moment. Moments passed as Lucy agonised and George's heart pumped blood all around and sure enough to the end of his prick. Standing proudly to attention, it was enough to renew the girl's interest and finally she leaned back in. Another precious moment passed before she retraced a fingertip the length of the thick shaft. Drawing back the foreskin lightly, Lucy whistled. Her motion prompted the cock to rise slightly and George to stifle a groan.
Gingerly the curious girl took the shaft fully in hand and began to stroke gently, easing the foreskin back and forth over the spongy purple head and toying joyfully. Doubtless hot, sweaty and fetid-smelling, George was astounded that this lovely young creature continued to play so lovingly with the semi-excited manhood of a sick man. Yet he wouldn't have wanted it to stop for the world. In spite of his sickness, there was no denying that George was hornier than ever before in his four decades on earth.
Lucy must have been as turned on too, for when George elevated an eyelid ever so slightly, he witnessed her reach to unzip the yellow hotpants, left hand sliding down the front. At the same time her other hand maintained a purposeful grip her stepfather's thick tool. Moaning gently, Lucy bit into her bottom lip as a pair of moist cuntlips were teased by two fingers. "Oh gosh yeah, daddy," she groaned in muffled tones, tiny fist slip-sliding down the rapidly-inflating shaft.
Maintaining the small crack in the eyelid, George witnessed Lucy's hotpants ease down her hips, split at the zip, two fingers buried deep in pink moist pussy. The wondrous vision prompted a tingle of pleasure in George and a thick dollop of precum to be extinguished from the eye. Pleased at her handiwork, Lucy gave a little squeal of approval. Taking her fingers off the shaft momentarily, the teenager dipped a tip in the eye, drawing forth a thin string of dew. Slowly she lifted the finger to her lips, tasting tentatively. A wanton smile was followed by a little purr that spilled from her velveteen lips.
Regaining position at her stepfather's groin, Lucy cupped the two large balls through the light material of his pyjamas, weighing them in her palm and squeezing gently. Instantly her stepfather's shaft stiffened to almost full capacity, wavering between them like a joystick. As Lucy's fingers moulded each ball wondrously, the other hand stroked up and down the shaft, her own pleasure forsaken momentarily.
Above the rapidly increasing jerking motion, precum spilled out of the eye at an alarming rate, snaking down a head that was purple and bulbous. Tracing up the shaft and drawing back the foreskin once more, Lucy gazed in wonderment, the underside slick and glazed. Running a fingertip the circumference of the ridge, Lucy smeared the dewy deposits, before feeding the fingertips hungrily into her mouth and swooning at the taste.
George lay in heightened anticipation, not daring to break the spell by 'waking'. Not that Lucy seemed inclined to stop. Indeed, she seemed to thrive upon the danger and the taboo nature of the coupling as undoubtedly she had with Josh. Despite his tightly shut eyes, George could tell from her breathing, the squelching sound and the sickly-sweet aroma of girl pussy wafting below his nostrils that Lucy was masturbating furiously. "Oh daddy!" she moaned repeatedly beneath her breath in a baby voice: "Oh daddy, your little girl is going to cum…"
Risking a better peek, George saw the fingers blur between her legs, the little shorts having descended to crumple at her knees as she knelt on them. Her pussy was an awesome sight, pouting pink lips bordered by an almost white thatch of pubic hair, testament to her mother's Scandinavian ancestry. Glancing up, he saw that her front teeth were almost completely submerged in a quivering bottom lip. Tossing her head back, Lucy squealed as her fingers jabbed at a fizzing young pussy. More gently, the right hand stroked his throbbing cock, each vein bulging and threatening to explode. Almost subconsciously George closed his eyes once more.
Despite her own orgasm, marked with a polite little whimper that belied the fireworks she truly felt, Lucy seemed determined to reciprocate. Stroke after skillful stroke brought her stepfather ever closer. About to unload with a shattering and ferocious climax as Lucy's hand slipped from his cock, George relaxed, on the verge and no longer daring to look. Then suddenly the bed dipped under Lucy's displaced weight and George felt his legs being eased apart. Spilled hair caressed his thighs as warm breath spread across the cockhead. Oh God, he thought, his own breath held deathly tight, what's she going to do next?
Lucy's lips pursed and kissed the tip, precum generously coating her lips. Licking them lovingly, she praised her stepfather in hushed tones before those soft lips dipped to envelop the thick spongy head. From the snugness of the fit, George could tell her lovely little mouth was stretched to capacity. An eager tongue grazed the eye, licking back and forth gently as she gained invaluable practice on a life model. Yes, she was inexperienced and yes he had had far more accomplished blowjobs in his life, yet none had been from his virginal sixteen-year old stepdaughter. So aroused was George that he very nearly pumped his seed into her warm mouth there and then, the orgasm rising from his balls as desperately he fought the urge.
Reaching to grip the shaft, Lucy eased the foreskin back and forth as she sucked at the inflamed head like it was a lollipop. Spittle dribbled from the purple helmet to the length as her face dipped back and forth. She gagged as the head touched her throat, yet the vigour with which she went about the blowjob told George she was thoroughly enjoying this new experience. And to be the first to put a cock in her lovely mouth filled George with immense warmth. Minutes passed as he held on stubbornly, savouring every luscious lick and sweet suck.
Lucy threw back her head, ingeting a cocktail of stale air, saliva and precum whilst taking a moment to admire the rampant appendage before her. "Oh daddy," she drooled, checking her father's face for signs of waking. "Daddy I love your cock. Mmmmmmm."
Opening the fingers of her left hand and moving it between her legs, Lucy's pink pussy lips were widened. Gripping her stepfather's shaft once more and shuffling on her knees, she straddled him, guiding the pulsing head towards her cunt opening. Eyes closed tight once more, George felt the tip slide back and forth the length of Lucy's slippery slit. "Oh daddy, yeah," she enthused, all sense of subtlety abandoned to lust as she rubbed herself wetly on his prickhead. "Oh yeah, Lucy," his inner voice screamed.
Back and forth she slid the engorged head, pussy lips parting gradually to bury it partially inside. Fingers letting go of the shaft to support her weight on the bed, Lucy rocked gently against the submerged cockhead. An inch or so of shaft working its way in, George felt the hymen bar further progress. Squeezing gently and rocking her hips, Lucy reduced her father to a shivering wreck with the onset of a mind-blowing orgasm. The tip plopped from the tight slit, a fountain of hot seed firing from the eye and coating Lucy's lower belly and thighs.
George grunted 'in his sleep', the controlled exhalation belying the intensity of the climax just as his stepdaughter had before. In ecstacy, the fever was temporarily exorcised in the seminal outpouring. As he opened an eyelid a crack, he saw Lucy busily wiping away the spunk that clung to her skin and sucking her fingers dry. After cleaning up her mess thoroughly, the girl climbed carefully from the bed, pulling up the hotpants. "Oh daddy," she sighed, leaning over to kiss his redhot forehead.
Just when George thought it was all over, the bed dipped once more and he felt his flaccid penis being handled. Drawing back the foreskin and locking her lips on the head, Lucy sucked and licked until it was totally clean, fitting the cock back inside the fly of the pyjama bottoms and patting the bulge lovingly. "Sleep tight daddy," she whispered with a giggle and a skip before departing.
Turning over, George glanced at the clock – it was just after midday. He wondered if his sick day could get any better.
The third and penultimate part of the series is in the pipeline.