Weekends

My mojo must have been particularly good today, let me tell you. Okay, actually, let me tell you.

Weekends mean that Dad's home in the morning, and performance weekends (which this was) mean that neither of us have anywhere pressing to be. My parents and I had breakfast around noon, oh the decadence of life. We go around the house naked, so I got my motor running just eating and looking at my dad's cock every chance I got. He knows he's a flirt, just flashing me every chance he gets. Mom just smacks him on the arm and tells him he's shameless.

I couldn't take any more teasing after a while, so while he was still eating I slid my chair over to his and started giving him a little rub and tug, all friendly-like. I eat like a hog, I know; finish faster than everyone else, but it's because I'm in the theatre and I never know when I'm going to get a chance to eat, so I have to grab it while I can. Kind of like cock, actually.

He was dragging it out, looking over his paper, nibbling away at his toast. Sometimes he's just a jerk. No, I don't mean it Daddy, I love you, you know that. But anyway, I got into it, got under the table and started chowing down on his main course, so to speak. It's times like that when I really wish I could talk Mom into being bi; a threesome would be so much more fun if she'd get to do me too.

Dad said something about how he was getting anxious and maybe he and Mom had better go upstairs, and I about put my head through the table trying to strangle him. Here I am doing all the work and he's after Mom. I didn't catch what she said to him because stars were going around in my brain, but the next thing I know Dad's down under the table with me, all concerned, saying he was just joking and had I hurt my head. I lied and acted all woozy.

"You'll have to take her upstairs and have her lie down," said my mom with a wink as Dad helped me up from under the table. I nodded and gave my dad these big puppy-dog eyes, lashes batting, the whole bit.

"She's not fooling me," he said with a grin. "I'm going back to my paper." And he did, the bastard. So I fainted right into his arms; I could feel his erection pressing into my tummy as I lay over his knees. That time, Mom helped me up, and gave me another wink and then bent down and held Dad's cock upright so I could straddle him, then she guided him into me. I started to bounce on him; it's not a great position sitting down because the penetration isn't deep, but having a cock inside me felt good all the same.

It didn't take Dad long to say screw the paper and give some attention to me instead. He lifted me up as he stood and lay me back on the table, which Mom had thoughtfully cleared I guess, because I didn't wind up with food on my back. For straight fucking I love missionary, because I can look into the eyes of the guy and he has to do most of the work. It makes me feel like a little girl again.

Dad's fingers on my nipples and the pressure of his head on my womb made me cum pretty quickly, and then he lifted me up again, still in the throes, and walked me upstairs to my bed, my legs still wrapped around him. Then he dropped me, the goofball, and while I was bouncing around on the bed he flipped me over and penetrated me again from behind, which is his favorite. He's not a big fan of anal, but he loves doing his girls from behind. Don't ask me why, and I'm not complaining, because it's just as fun, especially when you need it hard.

I could go on with a play-by-play, but I'm already making this really long and I was going to talk about the rest of my day as well. Let's just say that after a while he gave me a second climax and while I was panting he went off and painted my inner sanctum. I think he likes the vibrations of climax on his cock the best, which may be why he doesn't like anal; I guess the vibrations are probably different.

What a way to begin the weekend. And it was only 1:30 by that time.