The Next Day -- Chapter 2
I sleep in the next day, well, I laid in bed a bit longer than normal, and I took an extra long time getting ready and dressed for the day. I don't know how to face her, what to say. Will she even still talk to me? Did she tell everyone I know what I pervert I am, getting erections around my daughter and then kissing her in a not fatherly way? Every possible terrible thing is running through my head.
While I am contemplating my shame, I hear some clanking around in the kitchen.
Well, I steel myself. "better go face the music" I think to myself. I walk out slowly, and not very confident.
"Morning sleepyhead!" she says with a big smile. "I got tired of waiting for you, so I started cooking, but I can't find ANYTHING!" she tells me.
I head into the kitchen, a bit surprised by her reaction. I was prepared for anger, the cold shoulder, but not happiness.
"What are you looking for?" I ask, and start looking around the kitchen. There is flour everywhere, some eggs on the counter, some broken shells in the sink. Two or three sizes of mixing bowls, and spoons everywhere.
"I need the mixer thingy! You know, the kind we used to lick the batter off when I was a kid? Doing this by hand is STUPID!" I look at her finally, and she's got flour all over herself, too. I try to hold back a laugh, but I can't.
"STOP it!" she scolds, laughingly.
"See that big red thing over there? With the bowl under it? That's the mixer. I got one of those old-fashioned kinds a few years back. What are you trying to make?"
"I wanted to make biscuits, and I've been taking these cooking classes, and..." she's going on and on, gesturing and I am drawn to her breasts and arms as they both flap and bounce with each movement.
"Is there even enough flour left to make them? Or are you wearing it all?" I say with extreme serious face on. It's all I can do to not break into laughter.
"What?" she stops her rambling. "IS there any...?" She looks at herself, around the kitchen, and says, "Are you serious????? I'm trying to make you breakfast and ..."
I can't hold it in any longer, and I burst out laughing. "Honey, I'm messing with you..."
She gives me the death stare for a second, and then joins in the laugh.
"Oh, LOOK at me! I'm covered!" she finally sees the humor in the whole situation. She then wields her spoon like a knife, "I'm going to beat you!" and steps at me, smiling and laughing.
"Oh no! I'm being murdered!" I laugh as she approaches me.
"You are such a brat!" she tells me. "And you have such clean clothes on, too" she says in a faux threat voice. She proceeds to stalk me into the corner. I'm trapped.
"No!" I yell out as she puts me into a huge bear hug, covering me with flour, too. She presses into me, and starts rubbing herself back and forth across my chest with her much larger and much softer chest.
"Now YOU are covered in flour, too!" She exclaims as she continues to swish her breasts, and I guess her shirt, all over mine. I grab her and pull her tight, as we both laugh. I look down at her, and see her smiling up at me, as we stand in each others arms, just staring at each other, enjoying the moment. I just stare into her eyes, no sound, just smiling and looking.
Finally she breaks the silence, "What? What are you looking at?"
"You make me so happy," I tell her, and I mean it. Me, not being the sappy type, follow that with "That and you got some flour on your face." I reach up, and wipe it off her rosy, fleshy cheeks for her. "There, all better."
Her smile turns to crocodile tears, of the touching moment variety, not the sad sobbing like yesterday, and she buries her head in my chest. "I love you so much, Daddy." she cries softly. "You are so good to me. You always know what I NEED, and not just what I think I want." She looks up at me again, "I love how you make me feel, and I love HOW you feel when we are holding each other. I feel so safe and like I am wanted. I have so wanted to be wanted again."
She smiles again, and gets on her tippy toes and gives me a kiss. It's between a peck and the 2-3 second soft kiss from last night that sent me reeling in overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame for what I had been thinking. As she gets down her tippy toes, I feel her huge breasts, which had ridden up my body for the kiss, now pressed against me fully. I feel rumblings between my legs as my cock likes the thought of those hefty breasts, and how they felt on him last night on the sofa. I break my gaze from her face, and I look down at her breasts pressing into me, at the roundness of them even through her shirt, how they press against the thin fabric, and the sheer size of them. I avert my gaze back to her face, and I see her giving me that odd look again, but this time with a knowing glint. She caught me checking out her huge tits. Those guilt feelings roll back in.
I try to cover, "Flour! You got me covered in flour." And I pull away from our embrace.
She smiles, and says, "OK, well, show me how this mixer thing works." And grabs my arm and pulls me towards it, my arm pressing against her side breast, and she is holding it against all the soft flesh of her breast and the soft flesh of her puffy arms. My erect cock refuses to subside due to her fawning and pressing my arm against her breasts. She asks questions about the mixer, and then pushes or presses into me, grabbing my arm, doing anything and everything she can to keep my attention on her, and she is not shy about using physical means to do so. My cock stays hard for 30 minutes, and I walk away flushed, excited, and definitely not in my right mind.
I head out and start cleaning the main living room, just to get my mind off all the touching, and try to get into that platonic mood again. After about 10 minutes, I head back into the kitchen area to throw away some trash into the bin, and Kay is finishing up breakfast and bends over to check the biscuits she has baking in the oven. I stop and stare. Her ass almost doubled in size when she bent over, spreading itself wide, and her shorts rode up into her crack, and the curves on each side revealed these massive globes of flesh, bursting against that thin material of her shorts, stretched tight due to the sheer size of it.
All my mind pictures is sliding my hard cock along that crack while my hands fondle those fleshy cheeks until I shove...
"Need something?" she says. My mind slams back to reality world, and fantasy world disappears into a haze.
"I'm, uh, uh, I'm , I'm, I'm hungry, are they done?" I finally stutter through and blurt out.
"Yes, but they are hot, so give them a few minutes. Go wash your hands, you don't know where they've been!" she admonishes me like a schoolchild. Cute, I think.
"Yeah, yeah, one of these days, to the moon!!" I say, never backing down.
I go wash my hands, we eat breakfast, and I keep finding myself glancing at her round breasts, or the fleshiness of her thighs or the curve of her hips, or even the jiggle of the excess skin on her arms. I stare at her face, and the fullness of it, like a full moon, bright and shining, and I realize that her happiness is the most sexy thing I have seen. I know that after these past months of depression, this is what she needs, and I love her so much at this point.
We finish eating, and I volunteer to clean up.
