Serendipity 03: Two Homecomings


III. Two Homecomings

Coming Home

Well, Monday morning came, the Highway Department had the roads sufficiently cleared, and we packed up our things and said goodbye to our “honeymoon suite.” We both looked at each other with a bit of sadness as the door closed on our little space where our future together began.

We packed up the SUV, drove around to the office, checked out, and hit the interstate.

The drive home was pretty quiet. No sadness, no recriminations, probably both of us still reflecting on where this turn in our lives was taking us. Also, thinking about life’s practical matters that needed attending to once we got home. Also, let’s face it, we had just finished two days of some pretty intense interpersonal stuff, and we both needed a break.

We got home to the ‘burbs and unloaded the car. The first thing we did was unpack, then sorted and loaded laundry and Janey got that started. I went out for a couple Italian beef sandwiches and some salads. Oh, yeah — despite the winter weather, I got some “Italian lemonade,” that wonderful frozen slushy stuff that often has whole chunks of lemon peel frozen inside of it. Janey stayed home and finished her unpacking and organizing the stuff she’d brought home and started thinking about the things she was going to take back to the University when we drive back in five days. Just five days!

We decided to have the lemonades first, then the beefs and salads. Then Janey phoned Lauren again. She wanted me to be in the room when they talked. After Lauren answered and the two exchanged squealed greetings and declarations of love and how much they missed each other, Janey turned on the speakerphone so we could all talk.

First, Lauren had to tell us how happy she was for us, with a little note of “it’s about time!” in her voice, and how she wanted to know all the details of our first ‘rendezvous,” but that could wait — that we should have some private time for that to be special for just the two of us — but then we had to tell her everything about it — maybe several times! She added that she had told her dad just as soon as she received Janey’s message Sunday morning. That took me a bit by surprise.

They continued their conversation, including respective plans for returning to the University. Lauren and her dad would be driving down Friday. Janey and I would drive down Saturday morning and everybody could spend the day together. I would head back to the city Monday morning. No mention of when Lauren’s dad was going home. Then Lauren asked Janey to turn off the speaker and give the phone to me.

When I put the phone to my ear, I heard Lauren’s sultry voice. “Matthew” (not ‘Mister Blake’ anymore), I want to tell you again how happy we are that you and Jane are together now.” I could hear her sniffling, and her voice broke a little as she added, “If you haven’t already, I know you’ll discover what my dad and I have with each other. I’m so happy for both of you …”

Then, even though we weren’t on speaker, she lowered her voice, and in a confidential tone added, “And besides, did Janey inform you that now she owes me?”

I stammered, “Uh … yeah … uh … she mentioned something like that, uh …”

Lauren laughed and said, “Yeah, well, I’m going to hold her to it.” And then, totally unexpectedly, “Love you, Matthew,” and hung up.


I called in to my office to find out what absolutely had to be attended to by the end of today, and what I should expect when I came in the next morning. Janey checked online to see if, between the local library and the Internet, she could find all the materials she needed to finish a psychology paper she had to work on over the break.

She went to the library while I hung some things up to dry and put the rest of the wash into the dryer. Janey had taught me how to treat her laundry years ago, and for some strange reason, I cherish this wonderful act of ‘practical intimacy’ in entrusting me with the care of her clothing.

I made some phone calls and e-signed some documents and set out to cook dinner for us. Lamb chops under the broiler, frozen peas, our favorite sauce for the lamb. When Janey got home, I asked her to go down to the basement and select a bottle of wine appropriate to our first dinner together — as a ‘couple,’ I guess you’d put it. She came back with a bottle of a beautiful California cabernet (2014, if you’re counting). But also a bottle of Moet-et-Chandon champagne that we had been saving for “something special.” Well, if this doesn’t qualify, nothing ever will.

I nailed the lamb chops, made a light sauce from the pan drippings, served the peas in the broth with a little butter, and we generally had a fine dinner together.

Afterward, we cleaned up the table, washed dishes, changed into comfortable lounging-around-the-house wear, opened the champagne, and spent an hour sipping the champagne and cuddling.

Some more practical stuff, then Janey went off to take a shower while I showered in the Kartal Escort other bath. I put on some boxers and sweats and settled onto the sofa to watch a favorite TV program.

Janey came out with a towel wrapped around her wet hair and wearing a short terrycloth wrap that was probably a beach robe. She settled in opposite me at the other end of the couch, pulled her knees up under her robe as best she could, and teasingly asked me, “Betcha can’t guess what I’ve got under my robe.”

“Is it a mystery?”

“Yes, and you have to solve it.”

I leaned forward toward her and put my hand on her thigh and began to slide it upward. “Am I close to solving the mystery?”

“I think you’re going to have to do some more detective work to solve this mystery.”

I slid my hand farther up her thigh. “I know what’s under your robe.”


“It’s a pretty pink pussy!” and I dove between her thighs and pressured her legs apart and began to tongue that beautiful fresh pink pussy.

And that silly little episode is about how we spent much of our week. Newlywed games — playing grab-ass, copping feels, me coming up behind Janey and squeezing a breast with one hand while stroking her pussy with the other; Janey dropping to her knees to pull my cock out of whatever I was wearing and taking it into her mouth; fucking on whatever piece of furniture was handy.

But also, cooking together, visiting friends, seeing the Bonnard exhibit at the Art Institute and then going for dinner at our favorite trattoria. And, especially timely, shopping for new bed linens — and the new bed for them to go on.

Also, learning how each of us likes to sleep, getting to know the sounds each other makes when they’re sleeping, different ways of holding each other. Janey’s favorite is to sleep with her head on my chest, her soft hair tucked under my chin. Before, I was never able to sleep on my back like that. But now I just prop myself up on an extra pillow, and with Janey’s head on my chest, I sleep more peacefully than I ever have in my life.

And waking up in the middle of the night to find Janey with her face lying next to my cock. And when I can’t fall asleep, I turn around and put my head next to her crotch, and the smell of her sex that would normally arouse and excite me, instead soothes me, and in no time, I’m asleep.

Oh, yeah, there were the times we weren’t sleeping. Like the time we were engaging in some ‘warm-up sex’ — the word ‘foreplay’ really understates the extent of what we were doing to each other — when I remembered an incomplete discussion we’d had the second night in the hotel. Janey was lying on top of me and we were tasting each other, and my tongue strayed to her little brown hole and I let it linger there for a few seconds. I heard her go “Mmmm.”

Guessing that she wanted this, I carefully touched my tongue to the little rosette and gave it another lick. She groaned again, and I think I heard her say, “Oh, god!” And she didn’t move. So I stiffened my tongue as much as possible and started to probe her little red-brown asshole and stick my tongue into it as much as I could.

She started talking, “Oh yes, yes — suck me — lick me there — stick your tongue in my dirty little ass — oh, yeah … suck my asshole!”

I had never, ever heard anyone talk like this, let alone my precious little girl. And it was turning me on like crazy! But apparently her words were getting to her, too, because she got up off me and kneeled on the bed with her head down on a pillow and her beautiful ass sticking up in my direction and practically ordered me “Shove that beautiful dirty cock into me and pound me ’til I can’t take any more.”

Then, “Wait.” She reached over and picked up the bottle of lube that now permanently graces our bedside table and squirted a generous portion of the oil into her cupped fingers, which she spread lavishly all over my cock and around and inside her pussy. And then she did something I was not expecting — she took the lube bottle and pushed the nozzle right into her asshole and gave the bottle a solid squeeze.

Then she put her head back down on the pillow and said, “NOW!”

I lined my cock up with her pussy and gave a hard — brutal — shove and sank in all the way to my balls. As I pounded her the way she asked, she kept grunting, “Fuck, oh fuck, give it to me, oh yeah, pound me, you fucker,” over and over. And I gotta admit — her talk was really spurring me on.

And then I noticed that a little bit of the lube was seeping out of her ass. Dummy or not, I knew she hadn’t put it in there by accident. I took one hand off her hip and took my thumb and began massaging the oil around her asshole. At the first push, she ground back against my thumb and started chanting, “In my ass, in my ass, in my ass.” So I dug my thumb into her asshole, and when she seemed to like that, I smeared two fingers in the oil and replaced my thumb with those fingers. And when she groaned again, I shoved three fingers into her Pendik Escort widening asshole and worked them around and as far in as I could get them.

And it was then that she growled, almost pleadingly, “Stop teasing me, Daddy, put your cock in my ass.”

I wasn’t sure, but she seemed quite sure as to what she wanted. I scooted up a little to get a better angle. She was already loosened up from my fingers, so I was able to get into her with just some steady pressure. The sensation of sliding through that tight, oily ring was incredible. And when I was able to get all the way in, it was like a combination of a glove and a furnace. Her tight rectum caressed every bit of my cock like warm, tight satin. I moved around, then in and out, gently, just to savor the marvelous warmth and texture.

It was the most incredible sensation I’ve ever experienced. Admittedly, I’m pretty much of a novice when it comes to anal sex. Samantha and I had tried it several times — well, two times, exactly. Once before we were married, and it didn’t work out too well. We tried one more time a few months after we were married, and I guess it was so unpleasant for Sam — not so much painful — more that she just didn’t like the experience, and we never tried it again.

Now I was buried up to my balls in the warm, moist, smooth, caressing asshole of my beautiful daughter, and I have to tell you, it was more amazing that I ever could have imagined. I thought that once we started, I would simply go crazy with the wonderful sensations and the nasty fact that I was fucking a beautiful, sexy woman in her asshole. Instead, I surprised myself by proceeding slowly, savoring the warmth and pleasure of each millimeter that my cock moved in and out of my beautiful daughter’s beautiful ass.

Janey seemed to be savoring it, too. But soon she was rocking back and forth, then slamming her ass into me, each time grunting “Unhh, unhh, unhh.” Finally, she told me what she apparently wanted: “Pound me Daddy — don’t hold back.”

Well, I was finally learning that my little girl really likes ‘vigorous’ sex, with no holding back, so I gave up the savoring and, hopefully, started giving my daughter what she wanted. The feeling was amazing. I slid my cock in and out of Janey’s tight, slippery asshole. What truly amazed me was how hot she was — the heat inside her asshole was incredible. I briefly wondered if it’s always like this “in there,” or if her arousal made it hotter. I couldn’t believe how much I was savoring every stroke.

Sometimes I would pause when I was in her all the way, just enjoying all the sensations. But then Janey would shove her ass back at me, and I knew what she was trying to tell me. I rammed the full length of my cock in and out of her again, and I was rewarded with another stream of exciting filth from my daughter.

“Unhh! That’s it, you fucker. Fuck my dirty little asshole, damnit!”

And that filth just went straight to my brain — and then to my pelvis. I just started pounding like crazy, churning Janey’s bowels with every move and every angle I could. She squirmed on my cock and bucked her ass back against me if I wasn’t getting into her ass hard enough or deep enough. And, for better or worse, I was so excited that I was kind of “clenched up” and couldn’t get the feelings of getting ready to cum, so I just kept pounding Janey’s tight, hot asshole for all I was worth.

Finally, though, the amazing sensations I was feeling — and Janey’s filthy talk — were getting me to the point where I was on the verge of coming. Unfortunately, this middle-aged guy was also getting exhausted from the strain of being bent over Janey at just the right angle to get the penetration that she — and I — wanted; and Janey was bent so her ass was high up in the air while her chest was mashed against the bed, and she appeared to be tiring from her position, too.

I had an idea.

“Wait, Honey.”

I spread my legs as wide as I could, and then I grabbed her hips and told her, “Rock back with me, Honey.”

And as I pulled her and she rolled backward toward me, I was able to spread my legs even more; and with just a little adjusting, I was lying against the pile of pillows and Janey was lying back against me. We adjusted a little more, and we found ourselves with my cock firmly snuggled up into her warm, soft asshole.

We just lay like that for a few moments, to catch our breaths, from the little struggle of getting into this position (and from all our previous exertions!), and to enjoy the feelings that this new arrangement afforded.

I began thrusting into my daughter’s beautiful asshole again, and she resumed moving with me, although now with a more gentle, rolling movement.

Also, this position allowed me to wrap my left arm lovingly around Janey and my right hand moved down to caress her warm cunt, while Janey was able to reach an arm up and hold my head. And we just gently continued like that for a long time.

At one point, Janey slowed her rocking Göztepe Escort motion enough to say, “I’m so full of you, Daddy — I’m so happy.”

And so was I. And, finally, I was able to relax enough that the sensations of our contact started to take over, and I felt I was almost ready to cum. Fortunately, with all the clit attention I was giving her, so was Janey. With my hand on her cunt, I was able to feel her begin to stiffen and to arch herself against my hand, and that was the signal that now it was OK for me to let go, and we just kind of exploded into colossal orgasms.

After our spasms of climax subsided, Janey kind of collapsed against me. We stayed that way for quite a while, her with her arm around my head, me with one arm around her, cradling her breasts, and my hand still resting on her warm pussy. Finally, she took her one arm from my head and shifted her upper body to one side, just enough that she was able to rest her cheek against my chest, then said, softly, “Stay inside me, Daddy.”

And that’s what I did.


And we were exploring the different facets of our intimacy. There is the loving sex, where we just come together and cherish the feelings of being in each other and around each other and of being one, and of our 19 years of loving each other one way turning into a whole new future of loving each other a different way. Then there are those times when the love and the lust come together — when the warm, loving communion culminates in eye-rolling, toe-curling orgasms.

And then there is the intimacy of pure lust — of going crazy on each other, of exploring and using every part of each other’s bodies for animalistic pleasure, for the sole purpose of sexual release.


It was wonderful with Daddy.

First, I was getting all the sex I wanted. Well, not all … but pretty close. In fact, I haven’t had a lot of sex, considering. There was the first guy, in the summer between my junior and senior years in high school, and that was only once in his car and one time in the dunes at the shore.

Then when Kenny and I were together. After the first year, we were quasi-engaged, so that was pretty regular for about two years. Daddy didn’t give me any grief about it. Kenny was a pretty decent guy — Daddy liked him – and it looked like we were on our way to a formal engagement — until he dumped me with that bunch of B-S excuses.

Then there was this one guy this last year at school, and that was just trying to get over the thing with Kenny, so I guess I was kind of desperate or on the rebound, or whatever you’d call it. But he turned out to be a dud — in every way. And it was this last experience with that guy that left me so depressed about the world that Lauren and her dad felt they just had to do something.

And then there was Lauren’s father. Paul. Wow … was there ever Paul! And that left me with my first ever experience with real, adult, man-woman sex. And once I experienced that and knew what it could be like, I knew I’d never settle for anything less.

And now, Daddy. And Lauren and Paul were right, because now I know what they meant when they were talking about the feeling of being totally loved. I knew that no one could love me like my Daddy, combined with great sex from a handsome man who wants to please me and is willing to try the things I ask him to and, well, like I said, it’s wonderful.

And Daddy! He’s like an animal! After nine years alone — and by that, I mean nine years without any sex — he’s like — well, he’s somewhere between being a starved animal and a kid in a candy store. Combine that with the fact that I guess my mother was pretty much a tight-ass — figuratively and literally — and whatever sex life he did have was not very exciting or adventurous.

Boy, has that changed!

Once he was sure it was OK, and that he didn’t have to worry about me or treat me like I’m some kind of China doll or something, he really got into it, like he’s trying to make up for nine years — or nineteen years — of holding back.

And I’ve gotten used to getting fucked, and other stuff, too. I’ve gotten used to the feeling of a stretched pussy full of gallons of cum, and the pain of getting my asshole penetrated, followed by the stinging of my stretched-out sphincter, and then the stinging going away and turning into the wonderful full feeling of having my rectum crammed full of a swollen cock, and then the feeling of total emptiness afterward, and how the empty feeling gets wonderful in its own way. And of having my clit sucked and my cunt lips pulled and bitten until I practically pass out, and having my asshole lovingly bathed, and then probed by my own father’s tongue. And of having a regular cock in my mouth, and an asshole to lick and suck, and, well, you get the idea.

And that brings me to today. I spent all day, maybe six hours or so, trying to get this big psych research paper finished to hand in the day I get back, and I was so proud of myself for accomplishing so much today, and Daddy had gone into the office to do some stuff, and, to tell the truth, I’ve gotten real used to having him around — and available. As a result, I was feeling really horny, and I could barely wait for him to get back home so I — so we …

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