Finally, a Day Off

Mondays are the traditional theatre day off, in case anyone was wondering why they couldn't see a Broadway play on Monday. Don't lie to me; you weren't wondering that at all, were you? Anyway, while I don't always get Monday off, during shows I do because it's the way it works out.

So I couldn't sleep, and then woke up ass-early (for a day off) and crawled into bed with Dad and just cuddled with him. I wasn't particularly horny (well, any more than usual) so I just wanted to cuddle a little. I've been missing snuggles rather a lot recently; I haven't had anyone sharing my bed for too long, I guess.

The snuggles were getting more animated than could be maintained with Mom asleep next to us, so we got up and since it was still dawn outside, retreated to my bed, where the snuggles could be as animated as they wanted. It reminded me of some times when that wasn't the case; when Mari and Sheri were both sleeping in the room too, and they were asleep and I was awake, and Mike showed up wanting some late night loving. He and I were night-owls at around the same time for a long time; Mari's always been a morning person, and Sheri was so erratic as a teen that she might be asleep at any given time. Mike and I have both lost some of our ability to stay up all night, but we used to, sometimes. It was as close as we ever came to having to hide sex from the family.

He'd creep in to see if I were still up, and when he saw that I was, he'd slide into bed next to me and start running his hands all over me. We had to keep quiet because Sheri in particular is bitchy when she's awakened before she has to be (or indeed at any time; if you wake her up you get an ugly look at least, but then I shouldn't point fingers because I'm not the best person to wake up either). My bed was on the floor, which meant fewer things to squeak, but we still had to be somewhat gentle because mattresses and box springs and floorboards can still make noise during boisterous sex.

A lot of times, we'd be tired so there wasn't much danger of the sex getting too energetic anyway. We spooned a fair amount, him slipping up between my legs from behind, maybe my top leg wrapped back around him, his hands stroking my breasts or reaching down to diddle my clit. It's not a position that I love, but I certainly don't hate it either, and for slow fucking it's just fine. It can also be maintained for longer, I find. Or sometimes we'd be body to body, him on top of me between my thighs working in and out, our lips locked to keep the moans to a minimum, rolling over to put me on top, but in the same position. Often when spooning, as things got close, we'd roll so he was lying on top of me too, particularly if anal was going on.

Once, I remember, Sheri woke up, despite our attempts to keep things muffled, and glared at us for a moment, then she must have woken up enough to realize what was going on because her expression changed and she crawled out of bed and came over to join us. If I recall correctly, Mari wasn't in the room, either because she was in college at that point or because she was away, so once Sheri was up we were able to make a bit more noise. I just remember that moment of dawning realization on Sheri's face as she went from, "Who the fuck woke me up?" to "Ooh, late night sex!" We were all very tired the next day.

But that's all in the past. Today, Dad and I hopped in my bed, which was still nice and warm, and commenced pleasantly snuggling again, not really talking, both kind of tired but enjoying being together. I was on top of him, and rubbing my crotch up and down his thigh, which was very enjoyable indeed, when I realized that something was jutting into my stomach. It took me a moment to realize it because I hadn't expected it. I don't think Dad realized it either until I grinned and said, "Hey, guess who's hard?"

He was. It was great. I won't say it was the hardest he's ever been, but it was a definite erection, the first real one he's had since the unpleasantness. I quickly shifted positions and slipped him up into me, and enjoyed the hell out of that let me tell you, even though I was rushing it because I really wanted to take advantage of it while it was there. I gave him a wild kiss and rocked back on his cock a few times before it began to deflate abruptly, leaving me feeling sad and empty for a moment, until I saw on his face that he was really upset, so I kissed him again and snuggled into his chest and we just lay there for a while.

It's kind of sick to make jokes about it, but I'm sick and it's a coping mechanism. I feel like I'm toilet training a toddler; I have to act really excited about things which ordinarily wouldn't excite me. I have to say, "Wow Dad, you had a full-on stiffy this morning," and tell Mom like a proud mother myself, so she can say, "Fantastic, sorry I missed it." We're trying to keep his spirits up a little; he's been kind of depressed about the whole situation. I know he knows we're humoring him, so we do it a bit tongue-in-cheek, and he responds tongue-in-cheek too. We're coping. Humor is good.

Anyway, after a while of just lying there, holding each other, he said he was so lucky to have me, and that he certainly owed me something for my trouble, so I got an extra-long, three-orgasm workout from his tongue and fingers before he had to get up and get ready for work. I think he was late today (which is okay, since he's sort of on his own schedule) just for me. It made me feel special. And I'm hopeful that, before too long, we may get to the point where he can last more than a few seconds. He's got to stay positive so the stress doesn't cause additional, psychological problems.

In a way, even though as he's gotten older his ability to get it up multiple times has decreased, he's still a goddamn sex machine. I mean, seriously ladies, my father wears me out sometimes. So it's like suddenly the machine has exploded, and that's hard for him. No one likes to think about it, but there's a chance that even if he does get back to some capacity, it will be greatly reduced. So there's worry there. But hope too.