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Insomnia

Foreplay : I've deliberately kept this story bare bones, you can fill in the gaps using your imagination.

*

The dim red display of the clock said 02:47 and Ashley lay still, on her back, hoping the bedside clock would speed up and allow the pale light of dawn to creep through the curtains. It didn't of course. Unless you had an ultra spacious dark blue police call box and the superior technical knowledge of a time travelling Doctor, time only moved slowly. Except, thought Ashley, when you had a date to keep and you rushed to make yourself the most desirable young woman in town.

She lay naked. The heat of the previous day, one of the hot sticky days that July often offered, hadn't cooled at all during the night. Hot and sticky, unable to let restful rejuvenating sleep take over her body, Ashley had tossed and turned for what seemed like an eternity. She lay still for a while but sleep never came. Lazily she let her hands wander, lightly touching the parts of her naked body she knew would give her pleasure.

She'd had a date, a date that went pear shaped, a date with her so-called boyfriend. A meal - a Chinese buffet, eat all you like, that her so-called boyfriend hoped would soften the blow of ditching her, would ease the pain of telling her he'd moved on. A rich bitch no doubt, with tits like honeydew melons, with lips that promised to suck his cock into submission, with a 'gina' - his word - that he could dip his eight inches into whenever he liked.

For Tom that was normal. He wanted to grope and fuck as often as he could, three or four times a day. He wanted to hide in an alley and have his 'jizz' - his word - rapidly coaxed into the throat of a young woman as if she were a street whore, then have her again, laid on her back on his sagging bed in his cheap apartment, have him stuff his long hard and very full cock inside her until he came again and she was sore, unsatisfied, and (if she was very lucky, for he cared only for his own pleasure) brought rapidly to climax by his tongue.

But Tom, Ashley knew well, had another side, a patient loving side that she had experienced. That, though, was just until he had her confidence, had her decide that, yes, she would enjoy being his girlfriend, his temporary partner, his fuck buddy. He was Jekyll and Hyde, one day bringing her chocolates and the next leaving her so sore it pained her for the next 48 hours.

She peeked again at the dim digits of the clock - 02:56, only 9 minutes had passed. She turned on her side, curled as if she were still in her mother's womb, eyes closed, trying to relax her hot, naked, sweaty body. She counted imaginary sheep then counted again to take her mind off being ditched, dumped, cast aside for some dumb blonde bitch with tits. It didn't work. At 03:09 she stretched in her bed, let her talented fingers attempt to arouse her, her two favourite fingers dipping into what was a place only slightly wet from her earlier touches, lightly tickling her clit at first then a more determined effort to bring herself off, then a frenetic two minutes before she gave up. It was too hot and the mental pain of another breakup meant her attempt had to be aborted

Finally she got up, pissed as quietly as she could and crept downstairs to where she'd left her laptop, her nakedness hidden only by a near see-thru black dressing gown. There was a story she had bookmarked in her browser, a short story of love, a rather raunchy love story, one of brief but potent passion. Three o clock in the morning wasn't an ideal time to hold her concentration so she sought a shorter kiss-me-then-fuck-me read. Her attention was captured by the true story (or so the author proclaimed) of a girl, 19, seduced by her daddy. Ashley rose, slipped the sheer dressing gown off her shoulders. She smiled to herself, her nakedness only just beginning to arouse her. collected a can of her own daddy's Best Bitter from the fridge.

Returning to the dining table she surfed what she could find, looking at fit toned men wearing bulging posing pouches making little attempt to hide what lay inside. It wasn't often that she drank daddy's beer but there was no other choice until the fridge was replenished. The ice cold beer cooled her and quenched her thirst. The strength of her daddy's choice of beer - he would only buy the local potent micro brewery special - helped her relax.

Thoughts of the earlier story echoed in her brain. What if it could happen here? Sure her daddy took notice. He would pass a compliment if her makeup pleased, if a new blouse showed extra cleavage, if her perfume teased his senses. It might be a simple word or two, a pat on her butt, a kiss on her cheek, a sneaked glance down her cleavage hoping he wasn't being too obvious. Never when her mother in the same room or within earshot though, never ever.

She retrieved the story, bookmarked the page, edited the title and re-read it slowly, sipping a second can which further eased her inhibitions. As a passing thought she switched to the inbuilt camera, clicked 'video record', rose from her seat and posed. Seeing her own reflection she cupped her breasts, pouted her lips and began a slow teasing sway of her hips. Fully naked she ran her hands up and down, under and over her breasts, tweaked her nipples and suggestively teased her pussy lips with one hand, the other beckoning 'come here'. She parted the skin folds of her silky smooth mound, moved her 'come here' hand and lazily teased her clit. She smiled, no longer the daughter of her daddy, but a seductive mistress offering what pleasures she had to her master.

Satisfied that she'd lured some unwitting male into her web she sat again, replaying the video. As it progressed her fingers went once more through her pussy lips to the cave beneath. The lips atop her cave now glistened with her own secret nectar, the lubricating oil of her love tube. Her clit now stood proud as she clicked her laptop back to the story. The girl, Glenda, was satisfying her daddy with an urgent deeply sensual kiss, whilst he dipped into her secret cave, manipulating her clit with his talented fingers. Then all at once it was not his fingers but Ashley's - no, Ashley's own daddy fingering her clit.

So engrossed in the story, Ashley hadn't heard the door open, nor had she heard her daddy come behind her, reading the same story on the screen.

"Ashley," he said quietly, "What are you doing? And what was that video? It sure looked like you."

Alarmed, Ashley snapped back into reality. "W - w - what ...?" she cried, turning quickly with her face turning the shade of a freshly boiled lobster.

"I heard you go downstairs and when you didn't come back to bed I was concerned you might be ill. I didn't expect to see this ..."

"I couldn't sleep," she replied, suddenly realising she was giving her daddy full view of her ample firm breasts, her nipples poking out like coat pegs. She crossed her arm over to cover them.

Her daddy laughed, "Like mother, like daughter," he said, "She still uses an age old cure for Insomnia."

"You mean she ...?" said Ashley, her face still flushed, beads of nervous sweat appearing on her brow.

"Yes. When we were first married I never noticed. Then the quiet noises of pleasure began, getting louder month by month."

"So you spoke to her about it?"

Daddy laughed, "I gave her a hand. She was embarrassed at first, then she confessed she'd done it for years, whenever she couldn't sleep or something troubled her. It was the solution to a problem. She'd heard the old wives takes about how it could do this or that and she'd be judged on her naughty practice after she died."

"But you were OK with that? I mean she didn't mind you helping her do something she'd always do on her own?"

"Sometimes she told me not to help, sometimes I figure she'd wait until I was asleep." He frowned, knowing his body was reacting to the sexy recollections. "Hell, I shouldn't be telling you all of this." Without asking he went to the fridge, brought back four cans, flicked open the tabs of two and gave one to Ashley. "Two more of these and you'll sleep like a baby."

"Without my fingers?"

"Nope, I can use mine."

"DADDY!"she screamed and scowled her unmistakable 'That's off the menu' look. "And you can quit trying to get me drunk."

Daddy flashed a playful smile, "Hadn't even thought of it. By the way your tits are fantastic."

"Daddy!" she repeated, "You're not supposed to look."

"Now look, young lady, it wasn't my idea to come downstairs and sit totally naked at my laptop." He paused, "Neither was it my idea to read one of playful_daddy's stories on that Literotica website."

"How the hell did you know???" The thought soon dawned, the penny dropped, "Unless ... you haven't ... have you?"

"Written stories? Yes."

"And the girl in the story is me?"

"It's a story. I wrote it three years ago. Then you were just 16 so, no, but you could be that girl if you wanted."

"The daddy in that story was a super kisser, a patient and caring lover." The third can of extra strong beer was helping Ashley really chill. She drained the last of it and popped the fourth tab. Daddy was already on his second.

"As I told you, I spent time comforting your mother, sometimes until my wrists ached before I finally let her cum."

"The girl in the story sounds really like me. My build, my weight, my tits, even my hair. Are you sure it isn't me?" Ashley cupped her breasts as if to prove a point. "Even to her ..." She stood, giving her daddy a full shot of her carefully shaven form. "How did you know?"

"I know how many days my razors last, and your mother rarely uses them. I just assumed."

She wasn't at all sure why, but the alcohol permitted Ashley to ask, "So, are you as good at kissing as the daddy in the story?"

Daddy didn't answer but took his daughter in his arms. Lifting her head gently his lips met hers, both parted and soon lips and tongues played the most delightful games. Ashley gently pulled the loose knot in the belt of his dressing gown and daddy's bare chest touched her own naked breasts. Of course, it would have been impossible for him to be anything but rock solid and Ashley soon realised that his quoted dimensions in his story were true. She was soon ultra horny and took to stroking his length, somewhat bewildered that he quickly pumped his seed, much of which she caught in her cupped hand.

"I guess that answers your questions," he quipped, smiling broadly, "My turn now, but I suggest we go to your bed." He touched two fingers to his lips, "Ssshh." Neither needn't have worried, in any case daddy knew his wife had taken her nightly pill - no Insomnia for her.

"Daddy," Ashley began, "You're not ...?"

"Ssshh!" he replied, "I'm going to help you get to sleep. No more, no less." He knelt beside her bed, kissed her briefly on the part she so lovingly shaved smooth, then on her breasts. "You begin," he offered, "Like you were continuing where you left off." That, he knew, seemed ages ago.

"Daddy," she said, "I'm not sure, it's kinda private."

"Sweetheart," he said, "I do realise. OK," he added, and made to stand up, Jean (Ashley's mother) was the same at first. I'll go."

Ashley thought a moment and pulled at his hand. "OK, stay but turn the light off. You can help me cum but nothing else. OK?"

Daddy knelt again. His little girl was now a young woman who was willing to learn but had doubts, questions and was nervous. He was determined to give her the best cum a woman could ever want. He kissed her neat pussy lips again, inhaling the heavenly scent and making him firm up again. An erection so soon after he'd shot his load was comforting in itself.

"That tickles and it's cheating," she whispered, lest her mother awake. Daddy ran his tongue along the groove. It tasted salty.

"You touch there while I tease your breasts and nipples," he suggested.

"Kiss me, that always helps loads," replied his daughter.

The kiss was soft and gentle at first, then he could sense her touching her clit. Relishing the heightened feeling her kisses grew stronger, her tongue engaged a game with his. She turned her head away to moan, feeling the butterflies in her stomach that always began the upward spiral of pleasure.

"Kiss my tits, suck me." she implored, the tingles spiralling from within her tummy to her clit were increasing by the second. He noted her change of language. He could feel her arm, hand, fingers moving faster.

"Don't rush," advised, "Your orgasm can wait." He sensed her touches slowing. He kissed her again, pushing her fingers away from their target, inserting his own, seeking a spot just inside her that he hoped she hadn't yet discovered.

"Fuckin hell," she murmured, "What the hell did you touch there?"

"Tell you later," he said. "Concentrate, don't talk." He found the spot again, more by Ashley's reaction, a long low "ohhhhh." From then on she didn't speak, just made low throaty noises, moans, sighs. Fingers tiring by keeping Ashley right on the edge then slowing, he expected her to complain. She didn't. He moved his mouth again to those sculptured lips, that delicate valley of delight. Her legs automatically parted giving his tongue access to that nub of bliss. He moved to gain better access, she moved pushing herself towards the source of her pleasure. Her legs tensed as the fast lick of his tongue spoke directly to her pleasure brain. Her butt rose as the pleasure built to a peak. A fury of tongue flicks sent her brain into outer space.

"Sleep well," he told his exhausted daughter. And he rejoined his sleeping wife.

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