Several months passed; Mae and I were together generally a few times a week. I didn’t know if my wife knew anything or nothing about her mother and I coupling, but our home life was comfortable and she seemed not to find it a problem that I now never tried to force sex upon her. She either had her own supply or just didn’t want it anymore (unlike our courtship year when we managed a record five in one day one time, but often daily or twice daily for weeks and months: not anymore). Mae’s boyfriend was away in the Army all day, so our times together seemed to hurt no-one, and it was pleasurable, erotic sex for 2 people.
In late December that year, I was asked to come back for another consulting stint by the same company as before. I flew out just after New Year, and stayed in the same company-provided house as previously.
Within a few days, I remember it was January 7, my ex-mother-in-law, Mae, somehow knew I was back in the city, and phoned me at home after I had finished work for the day. She said “I have missed you, but more importantly for now: Guess what tomorrow is?”
She didn’t have to remind me: January 8 was the birthday of my ex-wife’s daughter, thus grand-daughter of this Mae. I remembered it silently every year, as my wife, Tin, flatly refused to even acknowledge I had once had a virtual daughter I loved dearly; not my natural daughter, but of my then wife with her first husband. But I had come on the scene after her divorce, when her baby was 3y.o. and for the next 7 years we became as close as a father and daughter could be. It was now a further 7 years since her mother had run off with another foreigner (perhaps with more money) and refused thereafter to let me have contact with her daughter – the girl I considered also my daughter. Therefore, tomorrow she would turn 17, and in a few weeks time at Lunar New Year, local custom would say she turns 18 under the dates of the lunar calendar.
Her real name was Yen, but from 6y.o. in her first International School, which I was able to provide for her, she had to choose an English-sounding name as instruction was all in English, not her native tongue, which of course we spoke at home normally. Yen chose Sally, and preferred to use that on every occasion she was asked her name. I called her Yen.
“Yen will be 17 tomorrow, Mae, I know.” “And guess who is here on school holidays at the moment?” Mae teased, and I gulped and hesitantly asked “Yen?” Mae seemed to be laughing as she responded “No. But Sally is here! And she wants to see you. Would you like to talk with her now?”
I cried. Somehow I blubbered to Mae I was so happy, but would call her back, while I fished for a tissue to blow my nose and another to wipe my eyes.
Yen’s mother had pestered me for several years during our marriage to apply for residency status for them both in my home country, Australia. At first I just shrugged it off; I had no intentions of returning there, our life was too good with my job and the lifestyle it afforded in Asia. I had many friends here, local people not foreigners, my wife’s family all seemed to be happy and friendly with me (and I was able to help them financially on many occasions, which some expected but most appreciated) and I enjoyed local customs, the Buddhist faith I had embraced, and the hundred little things which together I found more satisfying in my life than Australia.
Eventually, exhausted with the requests, I agreed to begin the paperwork, but what a laborious process with the Embassy – and we had now relocated to a new country when I had been promoted to a regional manager’s position, horrible traffic and the Embassy a long drive from my office and our apartment every time I needed to go there for ‘just one more signature’. Eventually we were stymied when the almost final piece of the puzzle – a declaration from Yen’s natural father that he agreed to her going to Australia, was denied by him, unless we paid him a substantial monetary inducement. My wife was by now travelling backwards and forwards home country/new country regularly, and I left her to try and convince him, with myself neither concerned if successful or not really.
(It was during these trips she apparently took up with a new guy, for whom she would eventually leave me, when I was retrenched a couple of years later and he, therefore, had prospects of continuing money to feed her insatiable purse. Whatever, that’s old news, and for all our years together I was very happy.)
When my wife was off for her regular weeks or month-long stay back ‘with her mother’ in her home country as she told me, Yen and I, alone in the house apart from our housekeeper, became even closer. We did homework together, we ate together, I read stories to her at bed-time, I scolded her and bore the tears if discipline was necessary, I attended her school for parent-teacher events, for her ‘proud student’ days to show me class-work, her concerts, her sports carnivals….for several years it seemed always to be ‘just the two of us’ more than ‘a family of 3’.
With absolutely no sexual connotations, I bathed her some nights, if the maid was cooking dinner, or on her day off, or extra night off if she requested; or Yen would just come and shower when I did. She often also slept with me when just us and while, true, I never wore clothes to bed –hadn’t for more than 20 years –it was purely a daughter wanting to cuddle her Dad, and there was no harm, either in my thoughts or my body.
My office was 3 minutes walk from our apartment, so after regular hours if not attending a function or late meeting, I preferred to pack up my work and take it home to do in the evening, just so I was there for Yen, even if her mother wasn’t. I had a car and driver, so at weekends we often went touring; sometimes I drove as I had a licence for a car here, and drove when I wanted or when I knew how to reach the destination, otherwise I asked my driver, and rewarded him suitably. Yen came with me one business trip to Hong Kong, and after two days of stay-in-the-hotel instructions, I took a long weekend and we toured all around the Island and Kowloon. Just the two of us.
Then I was retrenched in a downturn and management re-shuffle; my wife promptly decided my future prospects, thus hers, had dimmed, and she took Yen and left me. On the day she did, I came home, and cajoled my housekeeper into telling me where they had gone. When she finally said “The airport”, I leapt into my car and sped there, phoning her, and in the terminal she eventually let Yen talk to me and Yen directed me to where they were. I tried to again ask my wife to stay and we could fix whatever it was, and then begged her not to take Yen away; all this time, Yen was clinching me around the waist, crying and begging not to go. She cried, I cried, my wife almost cried, but steeled herself well, and easily, and took Yen’s hands to drag her through the Immigration door. I was devastated, and believed Yen was also.
After that, I was not allowed to see or talk with Yen again, then the long, drawn-out divorce, and somehow she forged the last remaining items on the papers we had started so long ago, and my own Embassy, without confirming with me, granted them both residency in Australia; off they went, I was told after the fact when she phoned me from Sydney one day, and they live there now.
And now Yen/Sally wanted to see me and talk with me – and she was here! I cried some more.
Since I was home, I grabbed a beer from the fridge – my usual anti-stress treatment – and dialed Mae’s mobile with a deep breath.
Mae would know who was calling, so when a small voice answered “Hello” I gasped and asked “Yen?” “Hi Dad” she said, and I broke into tears again, though I had thought I had steeled myself against this! “Oh, Yen, I have waited for this for so long!” I spoke not in English, but in her native tongue as I had always done with her, but Yen responded in English “Me too, Dad! I am really happy to talk with you, but my name’s Sally now.” “No, Yen, to me you have, and will always be: ‘Yen’. How are you, little one?” This had been my pet name for her for years, and it came naturally to me to say. “Not so little anymore Dad, maybe even taller than you!” she giggled, “When can I see you?” she continued. “What are you doing for your birthday tomorrow, anything special?” “No, Dad, grandmother said first we should call you, since this is the first time we are both here in the city at the same time. You have any ideas?”
I thought for a moment, and asked “Yen, we should go to a restaurant which used to be special for us a long time ago; let me talk with Mae for a minute, and I so want to see you tomorrow! You do know, Yen, I never stopped loving you as my daughter – do you know that, little one?” “Yes, Dad, I know, and me also: I have never stopped loving you, my Dad/Steve” as she answered with both my name as a father, and my real given name – huh! “Here’s Grandmother, Steve, see you tomorrow!” emphasizing the use of my name.
Before I could complain at the use of my name, she had passed the phone over, so I secretly agreed a plan with Mae for where we could go, and who of friends and family she would invite without Yen knowing. We said ‘good night’ and I sat deep in thought, a melancholy deepness, and tears at the years I had missed my almost-daughter – now my ex-almost- daughter – until the several beers later drove me to a shower and bed: I did still have a job to perform tomorrow.
The next day, after a messed-up night of sleep, I was at the office early. I knew Mae’s address, so gave some money and asked my secretary/assistant when she arrived, to run out and find a florist to deliver 17 red roses to the address and name I gave her, with a card simply to say: “Happy Birthday Little One of Mine”. My assistant asked whose birthday it was, but I just smiled without answering. She returned and said “All done as asked” and gave me some money back, which I returned to her for her efforts.
I doubt that the day was truly productive, but I vowed to make it up to the company tomorrow, as I rushed out at 5.30, headed home for a shave and shower and clothes I thought suitable to wear – to see my daughter for the first time in so many years! I was so nervous.
I took a motorcycle taxi to the restaurant I had chosen, arriving to find some friends and ex-family members already there. I welcomed them, happy to see people not seen mostly for some years, and guided them to the reserved first floor, where I settled the guests and ordered drinks and entrees to be served as tables filled. I was constantly greeting friends and family relatives, and it was beginning to become the event I wanted to welcome Yen home: her birth and cultural home, and where her Birthday could be celebrated in traditional manner. Even Kim arriving to kiss me lightly on both cheeks didn’t detract from the real reason for being here. Yes, she was dressed provocatively to be sure, but no hint of the smoldering sexuality given me a few months back.
Then I noticed people turning towards the staircase, and I turned my head. Fashionably late, Yen was here.
My daughter, my ex-Little One, was gone! Atop the topmost step was a magnificent young Lady! She was dressed in the national dress, an ao-yai, the pants and blouse suit which she knew (I told myself) was what I loved so much for her to wear. When she was little, her body had been so lithe and slim an ao-yai suited her perfectly; today was no different: she was, indeed, taller than me, but so slim, long, natural, and still black hair, so pleasing to me to me to see she had kept it, streaming around her shoulders and down her back. I stopped breathing as I stood erect to face her, catching her eye as she scanned the room, and she ran – ran to me and hugged me! Ok, her breasts were much bigger I now felt as I had seen a few moments before, but this was my daughter so happy to see me! I cried again, and felt Yen do the same as she buried her head into my shoulder, clutching me tightly with sharp nails on my back, as we squeezed each other with 7 years of ‘I missed you’ allowed to come out.
After some minutes, I gently said “Yen, this party is your ‘Happy Birthday’ present from me, but we will have time later; for now, you must accept congratulations from all these family members and friends who are here for you. Ok? Oh, I have missed you so much, my little one!” as I lightly kissed her on both cheeks. She, in turn, held both hands to my cheeks and hiding her action, kissed me full on the lips for a fleeting second! Then she and I released each other, the crowd cheered as Yen turned around and bent over to her waist in a traditional show of respect and thanks to all those who had come for her Birthday.
Whew! Time to calm down!
Dinner and drinks were consumed, as per usual the local males drank a lot of whisky and beer, and got drunk very fast, then we lit the cake Mae had arranged and sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to Yen, me on one side, Mae on the other, both with an arm around her waist and all beaming with pride and happiness. Yen’s arms were around her Grandmother and me, her closest thing to a ‘Dad’, and she squeezed her hand to my body, as she turned and kissed us both. This was also the signal for people to begin leaving, as is customary here: come to a party, eat and drink fast, and leave fast! Yen led me to the top of the staircase, hand in hand, to bid goodbye to her guests; and she never let go of my hand, and pressed her body against my side, for the thirty minutes or so it took for everyone, even the inebriated, to head home.
I asked her as even Mae – with whom I had smiled and had squeezed her hand with both respect and fondness on arrival, but I couldn’t fail to notice a wistfulness within her all evening - was packing up and leaving (having paid the bill with the money I had given her before), and as we had a moment to relax, “You need a taxi home Yen?” She smiled as she squeezed my hand yet again “No, Dad –sorry, Steve –Grandmother left me her motorbike, to take you home!”
“Yen, my name is – well, it should be –‘Dad’! Do you still need I teach you to show proper respect?” I frowned, even as I smiled, and she cringed as if scared, replying “Oh Daddy …” but couldn’t say anymore as she burst into laughter, and hugged me. I took a moment but had to laugh in return, and hug her in return; wow! Gosh! What a body my grown-up ex-daughter was pressing against me! I couldn’t ignore it, it was too firmly against me for that, and ‘it’ was so hard but soft, so supple and insistent as ‘it’ moulded against my side; so beautiful. Full stop! I had to cancel those fleeting thoughts this minute, I reprimanded myself.
Everyone gone, all waiting staff adequately tipped, only Yen and I left to head outside to Mae’s motorbike. Yen started it – she had a licence here for a bike, but I still didn’t, so she was driving; she slung her ao-yai pants over, picked up the long sides of the ao-yai blouse as all women must do when wearing and riding a motorbike, and looked behind as I settled on the pillion seat. She roared away, forcing me to grab hold of her to steady myself! And she laughed “Hang on Steve!”
I did, my arms had to encircle her waist to ensure I wasn’t thrown off backwards as she drove – almost recklessly – along the streets towards my house. I leaned close to her ear, having to almost yell, and almost to kiss her ear, to say “Yen, we have a lot to catch up on, a lot to say; can I meet you after work tomorrow so just the two of us can talk?”
Yen pushed her body back against mine, squirming her buttocks against me before replying seriously “Steve, my name is Sally. I am not the daughter you remember; I am all grown up, almost a different woman! Yes, we have a lot to talk about, but we will when we get home to your house. Hang on!” and she opened the throttle even more, zig-zagging through the slight traffic and pulling up at my house. I unlocked the gate to the courtyard, opening it wider as she showed me she intended to wheel the bike inside, and we were home. As I unlocked the front door, Yen re-locked the gate, removing a small bag from her bike, tidily placing her shoes next to mine as we stepped across the threshold.
“Hi Dad, Yen is home! But now it is: ‘Hi Steve, Sally is home - where she belongs.” Putting her bag on the chair, she turned and moved close to me, lifting my arms around her to clasp at her back, then wrapping hers around me, sinuously moulding herself against me and kissed me so beautifully on the mouth, for long lingering moments. While I recovered from the initial shock, I enjoyed her taste and feel against me, her breasts pushing at me yet her arms crushing me closer.
“Yen, little one, ok ‘Sally’, stop, stop!” I pushed her back, and stepped back myself, creating a small space between us. “This is my house, and I have some rules! #1, no, I won’t call you Sally; you are my little one, my Yen, even if now you are no longer ‘little’. And #2, we can’t kiss like that, you are my daughter!”
“But, I am not really your daughter, Steve” she emphasised, “I am not of your body, so to you I can just be a woman named ‘Sally’ who happens to love you, Steve” and she stepped forward to kiss me again.
I had a fleeting image of the movie “Notting Hill’, which I had watched countless times, crying every time, and Julia Roberts standing in the bookshop telling Hugh Grant ‘I am just a girl, asking a boy to love her’.
I hugged Yen, and cried into her shoulder, both sobbing “I’ve missed you…” Slowing my tears, I lifted my face, reaching for a tissue in my pocket and wiping her shoulder’s damp patch first; “sorry” I tried to laugh, and then wiped Yen’s eyes and the tear trickles, before using the sodden tissue to wipe my own. I kissed her sweetly and disengaged, leading her to the sofa, and retreated to the kitchen for a moment to breathe hard, to blow my nose and use a fresh tissue. I got a beer for myself and a glass of bottled water for Yen, assuming and hoping she was not yet a drinker of alcohol. She wasn’t I was happy to learn. I toasted her “Happy Birthday, Sally.”
Returning to sit on the sofa, I placed the small table for our drinks somewhat between our feet, expecting that to maintain a gap between us. Instead, Yen took several gulps of her water, placing the glass back on the table, and curling her feet up on the sofa, she laid her head down across my lap and snuggled against me – just as she used to do when little. I placed my right arm gently over her left arm which was curled under her breast and against my thigh and laid it comfortably across her abdomen. She purred and snuggled and wriggled against me. Her right arm was along my left thigh, her hand resting dangerously close to my crotch, and moving against it each time she wriggled.
To ease the mounting, ah, tension, I leaned forward and reached for my beer, but this had the effect of pushing my body tighter upon Yen’s, which in turn pushed her even more against my legs and abdomen, and crotch. I quickly grabbed my bottle and sat back, deciding to ask Yen to tell me about her current plans, schooling etc, before going home.
She sat up then, glancing back at my groin where a noticeable mound was lying within my pants. Looking me in the eye, Yen said “Good idea, Steve. I have a lot to discuss with you. First, though I would like to change out of this and get comfortable”. She smiled coquettishly, before adding “By the way, Steve, I am not going anywhere; this is home for me.” Then she stood, undoing the fasteners on the side of her ao-yai and releasing it to peel off her body – right there in front of me! “Yen!” I almost shrieked, “Don’t you want to change in the bathroom or the bedroom?” as I strode over to close the blinds, but not before I had seen a lacy bra covering full-sized, womanly breasts. “Oh, ok, where’s the bedroom?” I directed her up the stairs and to the one bedroom, mine, to the right, also thinking later I could get spare sheet and a quilt for her to sleep on the sofa, since she seemed determined to stay here overnight.
I drained my beer, grabbed a fresh one, and changed myself, discarding my shirt and throwing on the shorts hung on the downstairs bathroom door: normal attire for me at home, but leaving on my underwear to help contain my leaking, throbbing prick. I settled back on the sofa at one end as Yen returned, clad in a long, loose t-shirt of mine, jiggling, unfettered breasts within, and nipples poking the material out, but only panties cladding her below! I moaned silently, and rolled my eyes. “Oh, are you tired? Maybe we should talk tomorrow and go to bed now?” Yen smiled.
“Yes, I am tired little one, but you start talking and we can talk more tomorrow; I do have to get up and go to work early, so yes, need to go to sleep soon. I’ll get you some bedding for the sofa soon.” Yen just smiled as she jumped down on to the sofa, right beside me, wrapped her right arm across my body and squeezed as she kissed me on the cheek strongly, and said “Oh, I have missed you – Dad – so much. Missed these cuddles and our talks; missed just being a father and daughter together. You were the best Dad a girl could ever wish for, and my mother was stupid to run off and give up a man who must be the most wonderful husband in the world!”
I turned my face and kissed her cheek, then a little one to her lips, withdrawing when I felt her wanting to deepen it. “I am not so perfect, my little Yen – my big Yen. If I was so ‘perfect’ your mother would not have felt the need to find another man, so I must have been doing something wrong. I am just a man, Yen, with a girl, now a woman, who was the sweetest, most beautiful daughter any father could wish for.”
“Now, tell me about school before I start crying again – you know how emotional I get watching movies with romantic scenes or stirring moments; well with you here is one such moment, so don’t start me crying again. Please!”
“Ok, Steve,” she started, sitting up to sit cross-legged on the sofa facing me – her lacy panties in full view if I looked, which I did before rolling my eyes and doing my utmost to concentrate elsewhere. “Well, I go back to Australia after one more week to start Year 12. Thanks to you as my Dad,” pausing to lean her breasts into my side and squeeze my arm lovingly, “all that homework you made me do, all that bed-time reading, all those books- and dictionaries, yuk - you made me read…well, it worked and I have been a good student. Even when you got angry with me when I wanted to stop talking my own tongue at home, and just speak English – all that, Dad, has helped me. I am doing all ‘A’ levels, including 3 foreign languages and English literature, so with my home language, I really am good in 5 languages.
“I have already taken a pre-entry exam into Foreign Affairs, and they have awarded me a full scholarship to Uni. Next year to continue language and political affairs studies – providing, of course, my final HSC results maintain my ‘A’ grades. This means I could be posted to an Embassy abroad, somewhere which requires my abilities. I am really excited! And, I owe it all to you, really.” She cuddled against me again, as I stroked her hair away from her face and stroked her cheek. How I had missed her all these years, my no-longer ‘little one’, but still the Love of my life. I kissed her hair and sighed.
I literally swelled with pride at the thoughts that I really had done a good thing in my life if I had helped Yen from her babyhood to get to here, and beyond. “I am so proud of you, Yen. I knew where you could go with your life –anywhere you wanted - and I am so happy if I did help you on the path. That’s what a loving Dad is for: give their children gentle pushes, while letting them tread where their feelings and feet take themselves”. She hadn’t moved from cuddling into my side, occasional squeezes on my left arm, so I laid my right arm on her back, and traced lazy patterns with my fingers up and down and around. She resumed purring.
We just sat there like this for the next minutes, quiet and contemplatively, yet conscious of the other’s physical presence by the body cuddles and hand strokes.
When my head nodded down, bouncing up as I woke, Yen stirred and said “Steve, you need to go to sleep. Come on, up” and she bounded up, pulling my arm to follow her, causing us to clash bodies together when I rose; it seemed right to hold each other and kiss, softly and deeply, and I opened my mouth to an insistent tongue and gave myself up for lost.
I broke free when my growing cock threatened to punch a hole through Yen’s panties, said I was going to shower downstairs, she could shower upstairs, and directed her to the closet she would find bed coverings for the sofa. I checked the locks as Yen headed with a swaying arse up the stairs, pausing to check I was watching – which I was, blushing when caught as she giggled – and headed for a cold shower, needing not only to be clean but also to cool me down. It took quite a few minutes to accomplish the latter, before cleaning my teeth, tidying the little required in the kitchen, and not hearing any shower noises from upstairs, headed up to my room.
Yen had finished showering, but Yen had not found the bedding for her sofa bed downstairs. She was in my bed on the left side - just as if she remembered I preferred the right. Her right arm was splayed outside the quilt and she patted the bed. That bare arm and shoulder showed me a bare body was attached.”Yen apart from the fact that you shouldn’t be in here don’t you wear a nightie or pjs?”
“I stopped wearing anything to bed after Mum took me away from you; that helped me picture your naked body every night when I went to sleep. Just like when I slept with you when I was little, when I did wear a nightie. But not now; so come to bed, Steve, you have work to do – in the morning. Come on Daddy.”
Yen’s mother was very sexy and beautiful, as was Mae, Yen’s grandmother, and as was Kim, Yen’s great-aunty. It seemed the womanly genes in her family contained one devoted to helping their bearers become nymphs, all beauty and sex and sensuality, manipulating mere males as desired. Of course, acquiescence by the feeble male helped, and I couldn’t but accept the pleasure awaiting me in that bed, cuddling as in years ago – but with one gigantic difference: this was a woman in my bed, inviting me to join her, not a baby anymore. Yen was all grown up.
I silently turned, went downstairs to turn off lights, and re-entered my bedroom, closing the door as the a/c was on, and turned off the bedroom light before removing my shorts (underwear discarded into the laundry basket downstairs when I showered) and climbing under the quilt held up by Yen.
“It’s hot in here, I think I need turn down the a/c more” I said nervously, attempting to get back out of bed as I felt Yen’s hands reach for me. She took hold of my arm and said sternly “Steve, stop it. Don’t be so jumpy. I might bite you, but I won’t hurt you! Here, you roll over and I will just cuddle your back, just like when I was a baby. Ok? Come on Daddy.” She pleaded, making us both laugh and helping me relax somewhat.
Before she settled, Yen looked up at my body, lit sufficiently by the streetlights outside, even through the blinds. “Steve, you are too skinny! I need to fatten you – nearly everywhere.” I was very conscious of my thickened cock waving around in defiance of my silent pleas to stay down. I quickly lay down facing away from Yen on my right side, exclaiming “Why does every woman in my life always tell me I need fattening!”
Yen wrapped her arm across my body, sighing “Thanks Steve; you included me in that ‘….every woman in my life….’ I am so happy.”
She spooned into me, long, hairless legs tickled by my hairy ones, feet involuntarily twining together, a bare pussy (!) as close as possible into my buttocks, and soft, soft breasts with hard, hard nipples squashing into my back, while her mouth was buried beneath my own long hair into my neck, lips pursing to kiss me. All of this I could feel with heightened sensitivity, and then her left arm moved under my arm to hold my ribcage, almost to stop any chance I could escape. I had to expel a long-held breath, and suck in some more – I had forgotten to breathe it seemed! Oh heavens, what do I do now? How can I sleep now?
I lifted her left hand up and kissed it; “Good night little one”. The same gesture and words I used to use those many years ago to my little girl when we slept. Then I lay my left arm back and caressed her thigh against my body, as she whispered “This is so nice Dad” and we slept.
I woke to my buzzing alarm clock, reached out to turn it off, and felt a stirring against my back: Yen my brain grasped to tell me. We had slept seemingly not having moved, but now Yen rolled away to her left side. I too rolled to my left, not willing to leave her and go to work without a last cuddle. I curled up behind her, trying to hold my groin away, but laying my right arm over her, finding not the ribcage as she had held all night, but a soft, hand-sized breast to which my hand was drawn, to cup and cuddle, as I burrowed through her hair to kiss the back of her neck. She stretched her legs, pushing backwards at the same time, pressing against my groin before I could move away further, and now my cock nestled against her bum, rising of its own accord to become painfully squashed. Yen reached behind her, grasped my cock amidst a squeak from me, and eased it between her buttocks and thighs to nestle through against her pussy.
I moved my hand to cover 2 erect nipples, kissed her all the way across from one shoulder to the other, and hoping she was asleep, whispered “I have to go to work, little one; I will leave you a note downstairs. Sleep well” and I kissed her once more in the middle of the back of her neck, long and lovingly; one more squeeze of her breasts and her body, just one more kiss to her back…Get UP! I told myself, easing my prick back through her clenched thighs, leaving a trail of sticky pre-cum but unable to stop that, and slipped –correct word - out of the quilt.
I quietly chose some clothes, and made my way to shower downstairs as Yen slept on. After coffee, I left a spare set of keys on top of a note on the table, giving her my mobile number, and asking her to call me later with her number, so we could make plans. Off to work, a constant smile on my face even when striking problems throughout the day: My Daughter, Yen, was Home.
Yen, My Woman, was Home.
She called about lunch-time, firstly giving me her mobile number, and saying she had been to see Mae who had said Yen could keep the bike for a few days, as long as she was taking care of me, so would I like her to pick me up from work? I said “Fine, but I will give you a call, as not sure, but hopefully about 18.00; I will try not to be later.” I’ll be ready” Yen slyly answered. “But today you must drive a little slower,” I cautioned her sternly. “Of course, Steve; I will take care of you! I promised Grandmother didn’t I” she rejoined with a laugh.
It was a few minutes past 6pm when I called, Yen interrupting me to say she was sitting downstairs in the office lobby, ready for me. I said my ‘good nights’, grabbed my briefcase and laptop, and rushed down, finding a sparkling, jeans and t-shirt clad Yen waiting. She jumped up, gave me a chaste kiss on both cheeks, and asked if I could leave my bags with the security guard for a while as she wanted to take me somewhere special. “We’ll be back in 30 minutes, Steve, promise,” she bubbled. I took my gear and asked the guard if he would mind it; he said “No problems. She’s a cute young lady,” motioning towards Yen. “Yes, daughter of my ex-wife” I replied, a mixture of pride and confusion overcoming me.
We retrieved Yen’s motorbike from the parking attendant, who said as I handed over some money “Nice looking girl there.” “Yes,” I replied, “Daughter of my ex-wife”. I wandered over to climb on behind Yen, resignedly telling her as she put it in gear and headed on to the road, “We need to buy you a t-shirt which reads: ‘Yes, I am his Daughter!’ before too many more people think I am a ‘dirty old man’!” “Oh, but Steve, aren’t you a ‘dirty old man’? I’ll have to fix that problem!” Yen laughed, leaning her head back enough to brush my face. “Very funny” I responded with a poke in her ribs, “Watch the road”.
We only rode for five minutes before parking the bike at the mid-city Buddhist temple we had often been to in past years, and to which I came fairly often when I was here. Bike taken care of by the parking attendant, we removed our shoes at the entrance, happy my feet had not been in smelly socks and shoes all day, only needing to wear sandals for normal office work. We each took some incense and bowed respects and had our own words and thoughts and quiet minutes with the Lord Buddha. After a time, I sensed Yen rise, but I remained contemplating, serene in my surroundings as always.
When I did bow and shuffle away, I saw Yen making a further prayer at a shrine to the Lady Buddha in one corner, before she rejoined me and we exited. She clutched my arm for a moment as we put our sandals on, as she said “I asked the Lady to keep us happy like this, forever!”
On the bike, I said, “You know what: I will telephone security in my building and ask him to keep my bags safe overnight. If I get them to take home, it will mean I am obliged to do some work, and I would rather we go for dinner now, and not think about work for a few hours. How’s that with you little one – gosh, I have to stop calling you that don’t I?” I gently hugged her, and then respectfully laid my hands gently at her waist for purely bike-riding protection purposes as she took off laughing.
I directed Yen to a restaurant on the riverside road, another place we had gone regularly when she was a child, parked and chose a table in a quiet area, and settled back awaiting our drinks. I looked at Yen, and said “Did I tell you yesterday: You are Beautiful, Yen? If I didn’t say it to you, I apologise, perhaps too many other thoughts overwhelmed me, but I should have told you: You are incredibly Beautiful – Sally. There I managed to say it!” “Thank you – Steve” she quietly responded, even looking slightly embarrassed and flushed as she dropped her head. From across the table, I clearly saw a tear drop fall, almost in slow-motion, to disappear from my sight into her lap under the table. It was only one, as she then straightened her body, raised her head with a sniffle, and declared “I love you so much!”
“I love you also…” but I didn’t get to continue, as she waved her hand for me to stop, continuing to talk “Not as a Dad, Steve! Perhaps I have carried you around in my heart so long, lighting my inside like a torch, remembering it seems every single thing we ever did together, just the two of us, and yes, years ago. But I am grown up now, not a baby or 10y.o; I know the difference between fantasy and reality, and if it has been a fantasy, then it has taken me 24 hours to know that my fantasy and reality are exactly the same! I Love You, Daughter to Dad, and Woman to Man. I don’t care what you or anyone calls it, it’s not important: My Feelings are important. And Your Feelings as well.”
Yen finally paused to take her first breath in, it seemed, two minutes, as the waitress delivered our drinks and waited for our meal order. I motioned her nicely for five more minutes to study the menu, and slid it across the table to Yen, closing my hand over hers when she reached to take it; I squeezed and caressed with my fingers, showing her I understood. I picked up my glass of beer, and held it towards her glass of water, and toasted her good health, and a toast to ‘us’.
She dissolved into tears, and excused herself to go to the restroom, returning after a few minutes, eyes dried, face daubed with water and dried also, hair brushed, and a smile on her face as she sat and picked up her glass to answer “Yes, cheers to health, and to us.” She sipped and beamed at me across the table, picking up the menu to study.
We ordered some fish and prawns and salad; re-settled and waited quietly. As an opening, I asked “Are you planning on going home tonight, Yen?” “You mean: our home Steve?” “No, I didn’t actually, but your answer suggests you and I are going to leave here together, arrive at my home together, and then it becomes our home. Am I right?” “Correct” Yen concluded that short conversation. Before I could open my mouth to ask the next question in my mind (‘where do we go from here Yen?’), she forestalled it, holding her glass out for another ‘cheers’. Not of my genes, true, but she had the intelligence or the background, or was it that she really had absorbed me somehow into her psyche in her developing years? Whatever, she knew me inside out, knew what I was going to say at times, and already had her responses ready. She was amazing.
Dinner came; Yen ate as only an Asian can: fast and furiously, and everything in front of her. I picked at the salad, one or two prawns, as I normally do, enough to sustain me, along with a beer, as I watched her. Beautiful, her hair now tied in a pony-tail (as was my own) while she ate; her t-shirt hugging her curves and showing her slim build; when she lifted her head, her face was angelic, and her skin flawless, without make-up except some now-slightly smudged lip gloss. She giggled, catching me watching her as she lifted a spoon of rice and some fish to her mouth, quickly lifting her other hand to hide herself as she ate. “Dad!” she blurted behind laughter, before remembering, “Steve, why aren’t you eating; I said you need fattening, and I promised Grandmother I would take care of you. Please eat something”. “Yen, watching you is filling me with fullness that eating cannot compare to. Might sound silly and trite, but that’s how I feel at this moment.” I smiled, and took a spoonful of rice to soothe her, as I noticed she became teary-eyed once more. “Yen, don’t; I told you my feelings, just as you show me yours. We don’t want the staff here to think I am upsetting you, do we?” “No” she blubbered, hiding her face behind a tissue for a few moments, “It’s just I haven’t had such strong feelings for so many years, Dad. You make me feel. Oh, how I feel! Do you know what you do to my heart Steve? I get so confused I can’t even remember I want to call you by your name: ‘Steve’. But I am not confused about my feelings as a woman to a man. I told you: I Love You. Here, now, you can multiply that feeling by the brightness of the Sun; that’s how much my heart Loves You. Excuse me” and she walked briskly to the restrooms again.
What have I done to her, I asked myself? Am I making her happy, or sad? Lost in these thoughts, these guilty feelings, and confused feelings, I didn’t notice Yen return to our table behind me, so I was surprised when arms went around my chest and a quick kiss on my cheek , and a voice whisper “I am ok now, Steve. I had a strong talk to myself in the toilet, and told myself to ‘grow up’ now that I am out for dinner with a Man, not a little girl out with her Dad anymore. I love you.” And she kissed me quickly again before walking around the table and taking her seat, smiling as she picked up her spoon with one hand and her glass of water with the other, and winked at me. I breathed a sigh of relief, as I smiled back at her, with eyebrows raise however, enquiring “Are you sure you are ok, my…Sally?” “Yes”.
Yen finished main courses; ordered ice-cream for dessert, teasing me by offering me a taste and whipping back the spoon to her own mouth, so sexily sliding it in, then scooping up a little and sliding it into mine. I sat back once again, finished my beer and lit my first cigarette as she devoured the rest, then asked for the bill as we both sighed and decided ‘enough’. After paying, my daughter took hold of me and linked arms, giving our waitress a tip as we went past and telling her, “This is my Dad” as she squeezed me, then whispering in my ear “And you are my Man”.
Back on the motorbike, dark but still quite early now, she headed off, as I put my arms around her waist and used one hand to hold her hair from flicking my face as I leant into her back and kissed her neck. She drove quite carefully in the traffic, and I didn’t interrupt her as we headed for home. Once there, unlocked, parked, and inside, I turned to Yen, opened my arms and enveloped her as she came to me, totally committed now. No need for TV, we both went to shower, but I remained downstairs and let Yen use the upstairs by herself – I was still scared what might happen if I had her naked body before me in a setting like a shower, but sure I would not restrain myself for long.
Lights off, doors locked, I went upstairs: déjà vu, Yen was waiting unclothed on her side of the bed, patting my side and with the quilt turned down for me. However, tonight, I didn’t turn off the bedroom light, pushed my shorts down and faced her, before climbing into bed, not turning away from her, but rather sliding my left hand under her neck and pulling her towards me. I now could feel naked breasts against me, naked legs, naked everything, pressing against me - smooth and beautiful. My right hand stroked her back and thigh, so smooth, like running my hand through creamy butter. My cock had grown and was poking into her.
“Steve” she said in a quiet, young girl voice, “I am a virgin. I have been waiting for you; I knew this would happen one day, and any boy I ever went out with would be nothing compared to my….Steve. But I am a little scared, and I know it will hurt, but I trust you. I do know you can’t make babies; mum told me this a long time ago, how your previous wife made you get a vasectomy”. I hugged her and stroked her body, reassuring her that whatever our Love led to – and while the beginning might hurt for a moment - I would have her in my arms and protect her.
“Sally,” I began, time now to change my thinking of her from a daughter into a beautiful woman who wanted me, and wanted to give herself to me. I kissed her lips. Sally reached her hand down and held my prick, feeling it throbbing as she realized its girth and that her hand just fit around it. “It’s big, Steve, bigger than I expected; will it fit in here, are you sure?” as she prodded it at the entrance between her legs at her pussy. I pushed her over flat on her back, and straddled her but with knees lifting my body’s weight, as I kissed her on her cheeks, around to the earlobes I loved to suckle, down her neck and back across to the other side, brushing her lips on the way.
She was mesmerized by the attention, moaning softly, her hands resting on my hips, clenching them now and again as I moved my lips under her chin. At the same time as my mouth began a downward trail, my hands trickled up her abdomen, reaching the underside of her breasts as my lips and tongue reached the topside of her left breast. “Oh Steve, this is wonderful” as I circled my tongue around the whole tit, closing the circles tighter until I paused momentarily, then plunged my tongue to her nipple, my mouth opened wide to swallow as much breast as possible, while using my left hand to cover the whole of her right breast! Sally jumped under me and exhaled a squeal, lifting herself up to me.
I eased the strength of my suction, to a gentle licking of her nipple and mouthing her tit, and my left hand kneading and fingers tickling her other nipple. I abruptly transferred my mouth up to her lips and thrust my tongue into her gaping mouth, sealing lips together, more heavily laying my chest against hers, one hand flattened between us on her breast.
Just as abruptly I left her mouth, craving more as it was and moaning in desire, and moved my mouth to her right breast to repeat my earlier actions. Now I also trailed my hands down her abdomen, swirling across and around her flat stomach, poking into her belly-button, and moving wider to stroke the satin skin down over her hips, under to clutch her buttocks, and back around the tops of her legs, my thumbs angled in towards that ultimate source of Paradise.
My cock had been swaying above her groin most of this time as I was holding my lower body weight up on my knees, now moved between her spread legs; as I had feasted on her breasts, my pre-cum had been dribbling around her pussy, and when I had leaned up to kiss her mouth, body flattened against hers, so my prick had poked and slithered around her groin, introducing itself at its full-size to Sally. She now raised her buttocks, under which I placed my hands to support her, and she pushed up against my prick: she had decided now was the Time.
Holding her to me by her buttocks, and my mouth to her breast, teeth lightly clenching her nipple, I rolled us over, released my mouth and moved my hands to direct her to sit up astride me.
“Sally, are you sure….” “Steve, stop talking, I want you inside me please, I want to be joined, be filled and fulfilled with the man I love!” She leaned down to kiss me, sat back up, as I said “Wait, wait – just a few words of advice ok? Raise yourself and open your pussy lips with your hands, then you control my cock entering you and the speed and depth to what you want. OK? When you feel me against your hymen, you do it as it seems comfortable. I love you, Yen.”
“Enough talking, thanks –Steve; and my name is Sally!” She had, as I was speaking my long words of advice to help ease this transition from youth to womanhood, opened her vagina. Now she positioned it over my cock, which I had held straight up for her, and in one ramming motion she plunged herself straight down, bursting through her hymen as she screamed and buried my cock to the hilt!
She collapsed her face down to my chest, and stayed there for some moments, then tilted her groin around moving my cock within herself, and sat back up smiling. “I told you to stop talking, but thanks for the advice Steve. Now I believe it’s time to make love.” She began experimenting, moving around, lifting herself up to the tip of my prick, then slowly or quickly lowering herself until my pubic hairs were buried in her outer lips and tickling her clit. At times she giggled; at others moaned; eyes wide but unseeing, or closed in a trance. Then, at one full-length bottoming, her eyes flew open, and she screamed and writhed and bucked, as I grabbed for her tits jumping above me and closed fingers on her nipples harshly: and she climaxed, and orgasmed through the next minute or two as I marveled at how extraordinarily beautiful she was and how voluptuous were her movements above me. As she slowed, I reached my hands up to cup her face and lay her down to my chest, able to kiss the top of her head and run my fingers through her hair streaming over us, and down her back to cuddle us together.
With a typical male ego, I was also proud that my dick had maintained its fullness and not let go too early. I rolled Sally back over, and now it was my turn to make her even happier if I could. I removed my prick momentarily, leaned down to lick her clit, then up to lick her breasts and up to kiss her fully with love, then re-inserting my slick and thick prick back inside an equally juicy pussy, and gently fed it in and in. I began the rhythm I so favoured and had used before: just the tip slow and shallow 9 times, before deep for one fast thrust; out for some more slow and shallow, deep again, before eventually confusing the numbers and when each might happen, and giving Sally an unending sense of building up and up, until it came: a tingling in my balls, a writhe from Sally; a warning up through my prick; a lift of her body to meet mine, and a momentous thrust to her womb, to hold and hold as I burst the dam walls and spurted heavily and forcefully for the first time inside my Sally, even as she sprayed juice in her own orgasmic delight. The Clouds and The Rain had never mushroomed and streamed like this.
I stayed where I was, dribbling the last pulses into Sally, as she shuddered under me, both chests heaving, as I tenderly reached my hands up across her breasts and around her sides to roll us to lie side by side, still joined together, but now face to face, and lips to lips. We kissed, and I cradled this Woman who was also virtually my Daughter, held her tightly in my arms and legs.
“Dad, this Yen talking – just for a moment. You are too skinny, Dad, all I feel are ribs when I cuddle you. If you want to stay with me a long time, we really do have to fatten you!” Before I could respond, she placed a hand over my mouth.
“Steve, this is Sally. That was the most fantastic set of feelings I have ever had! Oh, thank you for making my dreams come true! I hoped and dared dream how it would be, but you have turned my fantasy into a reality of bliss in a way I could never possibly have imagined. I am a Woman, and it was your Love which made me so fulfilled – and I feel really full also!” She eased her seriousness with a smile, and a wiggle of her bottom against my embedded prick inside her.
I had only to say “I Love You Sally”, nothing more as I squeezed her gently, wrapped one arm under her neck to cuddle a breast and the other being cuddled from this side, and we drifted off to sleep like that.
It had been a wonderful night, and the morning opened to a day equally as wonderful when I found a mouth down in my groin sucking my cock to erection. Sally felt me stir, pushed the quilt from over her head, to look up with a smile, a string of saliva or pre-cum dangling from her mouth, “Good morning Steve!” Then ducking down to continue what she had found obviously to be an enjoyable awakening.
I looked at the clock, no, still 30 minutes before wake-up – but I was awake. Sally spoke again “Can you cum for me, I want to taste you.” I smiled to myself, “Well, maybe I can if you do a good job, but it would help if you swing that beautiful bottom around and plant yourself on my mouth, so I can have a taste too!” No sooner said than done, and Sally’s hips were straddled either side of my head as she lowered her mouth firmly around my growing cock and her wide open labia down to my mouth. I met her with a pointy tongue which disappeared straight inside her, and she squealed, almost biting into my prick! I squealed in return, as she mouthed “Sorry’. I wished my tongue could be 10 inches long, but it wasn’t; enough to tickle her insides, then out to lap up and down, seek and find her button clit to suck on, and then nibble gently in my teeth, as she almost deep-throated me. I laved from her open pussy lips around the curve between and up to her ass, wiggling my tongue in her rosebud, and burying my nose in her cleft buttocks. “Dad!” she said, forgetting her own language rules, “How can I concentrate when you are stirring me all up inside and making me wanting to cum!” “That’s your problem, honey. Remember: it is as good, if not better, to give as to receive”. She muffled an exasperated moan as a new idea hit her; she left the head of my cock inside her swirling mouth and used her tongue to tickle my hole, while sliding her fingers inside her mouth, then gliding them down to my balls and rolling them around. Returning her fingers to her mouth, she retraced her glide, but didn’t stop until she reached my anus, and even then didn’t stop but plunged a wet finger straight in. I jumped, but smiled as I redoubled my own tongue’s movements, fascinated by the smells and tastes of her lush, ripe body which I proceeded to enjoy as if for the first and last time. Her pussy was leaking, a slight taste of blood I thought mixed with cum, probably hers and mine, but better than any honey pot imaginable. I delved in, then matched her wet finger by plunging one inside her anus, not sure of her reaction, but met with a downward push of her against both my tongue and finger. She groaned once, twice and gave that now familiar squeal of climax, soaking my tongue and mouth with more juices, shuddering and shaking her body against me. Surprisingly that didn’t trigger my own orgasm, and we were both interrupted as the alarm began buzzing.
I had to wriggle up from under Sally’s ministrations, sliding my prick away from her following mouth to reach and turn off the alarm. She rose up from under the quilt, pouting “I didn’t do a good job, did I? You didn’t come, just a trickle of juices for me.” “Oh, little one” I smiled as I dragged her up my body to lie on top and cuddled her, kissing her head burrowed to my chest. “It felt beautiful; just because I didn’t erupt like a volcano doesn’t take away the pleasure of having you do that. It just means there will be more built up inside me – if you want to do it again sometime….do you think you might, Sally?”
“Now?” she asked urgently. “No! Not now, I have a job to go to, and first off for a shower – you have made me all hot again!” “Oh, you tease” she responded, as I stroked at her nipples before jumping out of bed and heading into the bathroom.
“What will you do today?” I called out as I lathered my hair. “Well, after I make you coffee, and you disappear into the sunrise, I guess I better wash the sheets; they…. err…. have some red spots on them, I’m sorry”. “Oh Yen, that’s perfectly normal. I just hope you aren’t too sore, and hope you don’t have any regrets, and hope it was as beautiful for you as for me. And finally: I get too confused so I am dropping the ‘Sally’; to me you are, and always will be, Yen. So there.”
She accepted it all quietly before replying “Ok, I can live with ‘Yen’; besides, hearing you say it makes it even more special than my common day-to-day name. As for the rest, (and I am sticking with ‘Steve’ so when we are out people will think you are my boyfriend or husband, and they will know just by looking at me you are my lover, so:) Steve: I am alive inside, tingling from my head to my toes, and especially in my pussy. I can almost cum just with the memories of the feel of you inside there!” She left me with a wide smile, wrapping a thin material around herself and descending to the kitchen to make me a coffee.
I finished my shower, dressed and joined her, sitting for ten minutes as I drank; drank both my coffee and the sight of her across from me, studying her beauty from her hair and face down to her veiled breasts perched on the edge of the table (how can that be comfortable for women, I sometimes wondered: resting their boobs on a table?) Her nose was typically Asian, small and cutely flat; she, and her mother, had often been conscious of it, and I am glad her mother’s idea of cosmetic surgery to change it had never been done: my reasoning had always been that it was Yen’s natural nose, end of discussion. Her eyes were a hazel-green and her lips so perfect on a round face. Topping all that, and extending as I had experienced, over her entire body was a sheath of skin so silky smooth it could have been poured on her. She was beautiful, and I adored her. I shook my head to clear it, kissed her lovingly and headed out to catch a motorcycle taxi to the office, turning to wave as Yen (dressed as little as she was) discreetly lingered at the gate, smiling at me – like a wife bidding her husband a good day at work!
I was busy all day – it was a consulting position, so ‘busy’ was expected of course – but I was lucky I could perform while in a daze of memories and feelings about Yen. She didn’t telephone me, and though I thought of calling her several times, I didn’t. She had 2 weeks here, and I was already feeling torn between her departure to begin her last year of high school, and how we would let each other go if the intensity of one day became fourteen more the same. An emotional dilemma of the extreme kind.
Yen was waiting downstairs when I left the office, beaming a welcoming smile; she must have gone to her Grandmother’s as today she was dressed in a tight black leather mini skirt and sky-blue silk blouse, her contours all too stunningly evident everywhere. I gave a small shake of my head as she appeared to be running over for a kiss; she paused, pouted, and resumed smiling with a “Hi, Steve! Wow, am I hungry, all day I have been feeling empty; last night’s dessert filled me, and all today I have craved more!” Feeling flushed, I hurried her out before she could say any more. Tonight I did need to take some work home, but first we went to dinner nearby, beyond the tears and revelations of the previous evening, this was one of small talk and glances and smiles, and discreet touching of fingers across the table, and ‘footsies’ under the table. I felt thirty years younger, as if with my first lover. I couldn’t help but notice the many stares from other restaurant customers, but Yen never called me anything but ‘Steve’ and we were speaking in the local language, so perhaps people did believe I was her boyfriend or husband. When she stood to go to the toilet, draping a hand across my shoulders in passing, it must have seemed to convey to those watching: they love each other. They were correct, as my eyes followed Yen’s slim figure swaying along the path to the restrooms. She knew I was watching I was sure, and, as she took the last step before she would disappear behind the partition, she bent over as if to adjust her shoe. Her skirt was just plastered to her behind as it showed the length of her thighs, almost indecently high enough to expose herself. She straightened, smoothed her skirt, before turning and deliberately winking at me. A nymph!
I concentrated on keeping my head turned to the table, away from her return route, ate a few mouthfuls (scraping the remaining rice onto Yen’s plate!) and drank some beer, until a returning Yen scratched a light nail across my neck, under my pony-tailed hair hanging down my back. I shivered, tried to show her I was glaring, but failed miserably as I laughed at her seductiveness. She looked demurely at me as she sat, pure innocence itself!
“Have you eaten enough, Steve?” “Look at my plate, Yen; I’m full, truly”. She whispered “Dad, you wouldn’t lie to me would you?” “Oh, Yen, ok, just a little bit of rice I gave to you, but honestly I am full; I stop when I have had sufficient. And no, I cannot lie to you, my daughter”. I held up my hands to show I wasn’t crossing fingers, the universal sign of asking forgiveness while telling untruths. I wasn’t. She was appeased, cleaned her plate entirely, and patted her stomach, “Ah; that was sufficient! Let’s get the bill and go, when you finish your beer.” I did, we did, and we did get on the bike and go home – no less an exciting trip than previously, despite my protests; actually, I was thinking ‘Yen does this deliberately, just to get me to cuddle her waist tightly, safely - and get me hard!’
Inside the house, Yen headed for the kitchen and got some water from the fridge. I followed, but I couldn’t help myself from grabbing her immediately, holding my hands on her short-skirt clad rear as I pressed her to me, and squashed my lips against hers, opening them to bury my tongue inside, and my prick almost tearing a hole in the front of her skirt. I was so hard, and searching to enter her….now! Yen somehow managed to evade my grasping hands enough to slip her handbag off her shoulder and drop it on the chair, clinging to me and returning the kiss just as passionately as I laid her back leaning against, then on, the table. “Yen, now!” was all I could manage to say, reaching to her side to unzip her skirt, then pulling it down from the bottom, letting it fall at our feet. She was naked beneath! “Yen!” “Thought it would save time, so I didn’t wear any” she said complacently, “Saves washing too!” Oh, if I had known she had no knickers on in the restaurant, wow, what trouble might I have gotten us into! I plunged my tongue and mouth down to her bare cunt while I fussed to get my own pants and underwear down. Yen was wet and ready, and my prick was also ready; she had tempted me throughout dinner, and now she reveals she didn’t have any panties on-! I was so filled with lust for her, I plunged my prick inside her waiting, open cunt, driving in until something stopped me. It was a barrier, but her hands had gone behind my buttocks and held me there as she moaned and breathlessly sucked in some air.
Only then did I pause, lean down to kiss her fully, and start to be a lover, not a rapist! I kept my prick buried as I reached my hands up to undo her buttons, revealing yet another satin bra, this one a light blue suiting her blouse, but with a front clasp available to me. I was gentler now, unfastening her bra, sliding the cups to the side and bending my mouth down to swallow a breast, tongue lapping a nipple so hard it almost felt like a small steel rod. She cried out “Do that again, Steve!” so I pulled back and rammed into her again, then again, until she began squealing that tell-tale sign, lifting up to my prick as I did finally ‘erupt like a volcano’, filling her to overflowing as I pumped and pumped deep into her cervix, and held myself there, even as she returned juices of her own in mutual orgasms.
I brushed Yen’s hair, limp with sweat, away from her face, and kissed her. “Oh, Dad, is this how you make love to all your women, did you do this with my mother?” I kissed her again, lips and both cheeks and everywhere I could reach; “No, little one. This is how I make love with you. Only you Yen.”
I was still lodged within her, and stayed there, reaching my hands down to stroke her legs and thighs and under to hold her buttocks, hold her body against mine; my mouth found her breasts, jumping from one to the other, then up to her neck and ears and only stopping when I returned to her mouth. I lifted slightly. “Yen, this is all new for us, only the third day in 7 years we have even seen each other, but you are like….like my mythical ‘Holy Grail’. You are the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. You are….” I stopped abruptly, aware I was almost taking a threshold step I must seriously consider, for both of us. “What Steve? What more am I to you?” Yen asked, mouth breathing against mine, “What….?”
“You are my Love, Yen.” As I bent down, I knew it was the truth, and I kissed with that Love in my heart.
I languidly slid down and off her, pausing to kiss her pussy on the way. “When did you start shaving this?” “Before I came to meet you at my birthday party. I wanted to be ready with a present to give you!” I smiled and raised her up off the table. She nonchalantly removed her blouse and slipped her bra off her shoulders, meandered with a seductively swaying rear into the bathroom to use my towel to wrap around herself, throwing my shorts to me also, and returned to bend and pick up her skirt and my pants from the floor. “I’ll watch the News on TV before showering, while you do some work, ok Steve?” Kissing me she moved to the sofa.
I took a beer from the fridge, unpacked my papers and settled down, trying hard to concentrate; I managed for thirty minutes, then found my mind wandering to Yen and off the job at hand. Coincidentally, Yen then asked if I wanted the TV on, as she was going to shower. I declined the TV and returned hopefully to do a little more work as she swayed her way upstairs, humming a tune; hell, she seemed able to seduce my mind just with her walk!
Fifteen minutes later, as I heard the shower come on, I gave up on work, and packed up – a vision of Yen in the shower too hard to resist! I quickly tidied, locke