Bens Little Aisling

The moans woke Ben up gradually.

At first, they snuck into his dreams, a small accompaniment to the random firings of neurons entertaining his subconscious as his body slept. Soon enough, however, they became more insistent, and his mind began to wake him up. This, too, was gradual; he knew he was in a bed. Then he knew it was night, and he was sleeping.

Then, he knew it was two in the goddamn morning, his eyes now open to see the red numbers glaring from his nightstand.

The moans came from beneath his bed, from the only other bed in the house. Christ, but they were loud!

Ben shifted under the covers, wondering what was keeping his eighteen-year-old daughter Ash up. Well, he pretended to wonder; those sounds strongly suggested sexual passion. But at two in the morning? Good lord, why?

Ben slid his feet from under the covers, the shifting weight on the mattress causing his wife Linda to stir. He slipped his feet into the slippers at the edge of the bed just as she mumbled something in Ben's general direction.

"Go back to sleep, honey," he whispered as he stood up.

"What is it?" she said, more cogently this time. Her eyes were now open, aware; she stared down at the bed, in the direction of Ash's room, as the moans continued. Linda had always been a light sleeper.

"Why in the world . . .?"

"I'll go down and tell her to knock it off," said Ben firmly. He stifled a yawn as he grabbed his robe. "Or, you know, do it quieter," he mumbled.

Linda yawned herself, and stretched. "Mhm," she said as she fell back onto her pillow. After a moment, she shifted again. "Holy hell, she's loud."

Ben snorted at that as he opened the door to their room silently, then closed it behind him. The moans echoed up the stairwell at the end of the hall, and Ben could almost make out words. No, just one word. A name?

Then, suddenly, the moans stopped. Ben stopped in his tracks, listening.

Just the creaking of the house, and the distant sound of crickets from the kitchen window they always left open in the summer.

Ben waited for what seemed like five minutes, but the moans did not start again.

He turned back to the bedroom. In the dim light he saw his wife sleeping soundly, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. He shook his head as he shrugged off his robe and kicked off his slippers. He'll have to have words with his daughter in the morning.

In the morning. At a reasonable hour.

Soon enough, Ben found himself on the edge of sleep, turning over the sounds of his daughter in his mind. Though he tried not to focus on them, they seemed fixed there, like a bad song with an unfortunately catchy tune.

Henderson, he realized. That was the name she had been calling out. Henderson.

Ben's last thought, as he passed into subconsciousness, was,

Who the hell is Henderson?

#

"Henderson?"

"That's what I heard. I don't have any idea who that is, though."

Linda sipped her coffee, the sun streaming through the open window at her back and lighting up her naturally brown hair. She looked away from Ben, deep in thought. "Henderson," he heard her mutter to herself. Then, "I think I know a Henderson."

"Hm?"

"Yeah," said Linda, crossing over to her study's computer desk. She pulled a stack of papers closer to her, rifling through them.

Ben hadn't had a chance to confront his daughter that morning; he had forgotten she had Jazz Band practice at five, and would be picked up by one of her classmates long before he had crawled out of bed at six.

"Here it is!" Linda held up a stapled set of papers, the name of Ash's school prominently sprawled across the top. She flipped through to the second to last page, then stabbed the paper with her finger triumphantly.

"Henderson," she said. "Patrick Henderson, guidance counselor for the Twelfth Grade."

"Guidance counselor?"

Linda set the sheaf down on the desk. "Yep. I only remembered since we have an appointment with him this afternoon -- the school wanted us to meet with him to discuss Ash's future plans. You know, college stuff."

"Huh. Do you think-?"

Linda shrugged. "We'll have to ask Ash, but I doubt it's more than just an innocent crush. Henderson must be a dreamy guy. You know, strong but sensitive, sweeps you off your feet-"

Ben enfolded Linda in a sudden embrace, depositing a short kiss on her lips as her pendulous double D's pressed against him. "I'm sure I don't know what your talking about," he said.

"Well, I could show you what I mean," Linda said playfully.

And she did.

#

"Well, if it isn't Mr. and Mrs. Lawson. Aisling's parents?" Mr. Henderson actually pronounced it correctly,

ASH-ling,

instead of how it was spelled.

Ben took Mr. Henderson's hand in his own, noting the man's natural charisma. A strong handshake, a firm gaze. He seemed completely open, fully aboveboard, but, well. You never knew.

Ben kept any suspicion from crossing his face as best he could. He returned the greeting with a nod. Above the counselor's chair, a large round clock ticked, providing the only sound in the otherwise spartan room nestled among the school's administrative offices.

"You Irish?" he asked, his gaze travelling from Ben to Linda, apparently searching for the stereotypical features.

Ben shook his head, repeating his go-to explanation. "Ash's birth father chose the name. He read it online somewhere, and liked the sound of it. The

wrong

sound, incidentally; he pronounced it

eye-sling

."

Linda picked up the explanation. "When I remarried, Ben told me how it should be pronounced, and we've used that ever since. Ash didn't mind, once we explained it to her."

"Huh," Henderson said, closing the door to his office. "Well, believe it or not, I do have Irish ancestry, so we're related linguistically at least. On my mother's side; she was a Brennon through and through, and never let us forget it, oh no."

Ben found himself smiling alongside Henderson. The man exuded an easy, casual air about himself, quite distinct from the professional setting he resided within. Even in suit and tie, he seemed far more comfortable than the casually dressed students outside his door.

Wasn't there something Ben wanted to ask him about?

There was a knock at said door, and Ben was surprised to see Ash peering through the glass. "Come in," said Henderson, and the door swung open, admitting Ben's daughter.

"Sorry I'm late," she said as she stepped into the office. Henderson indicated the cluster of chairs in front of his desk, and Ash stepped around her parents to take the corner seat. "Mrs. White wanted me to finish her little quiz."

"Don't worry about it, Miss Lawson," Henderson said. "You didn't miss anything." Linda took a seat next to her daughter, and Ben, left awkwardly standing next to the doorway, followed suit.

Ben marked the easy gaze Ash trained on her guidance counselor. Was that familiarity in her eyes? A little informality between . . . Ben cursed himself silently. Of course she was familiar with the man. She had spent three years at this school already, and likely had met with Henderson before several times over the last few months alone.

He was reading too much into it. Wasn't he?

"In any case, I'm glad you all could make it today," said Henderson, pulling a folder from his desk drawer. "I'm sure you're well aware of the preparation your daughter has made to enter college, but this is, as we say, a critical time . . ."

The easy tone of Henderson's voice made it easy for Ben's mind to wander, along with his eyes. He looked down at the counselor's desk; it was wooden, scuffed from years of use, but otherwise ordinary. A small snow globe with nameplate labelled

San Francisco

sat next to a small stack of papers. Three pens lay next to Henderson's right hand: black, blue and red. A stapler--

". . . don't you, Mr. Lawson?"

"Hm?" said Ben, looking up again into Henderson's plain face. Such a forgettable face, he thought.

"Sorry," Henderson said. "I just remarked that you looked a bit uncomfortable."

"Oh," said Ben. Something nagged at the back of his mind. Wasn't the counselor's interest a bit strange? Though, now that he thought of it, Henderson was right. It was a bit warmer in here than he was used to. "Yeah," he said finally.

Henderson nodded. "Don't feel like you have to keep up appearances with me," he said. "Go ahead, loosen your belt."

"All right," Ben said, unbuckling it and slipping it off his waist. He looked down at it, then set it down underneath his seat.

"And you, Mrs. Lawson? I apologize, it is a bit stuffy in here. The school hasn't had working air conditioning for a few months now."

"I can tell," Linda said, and Ben noticed she was visibly sweating. "Do you mind if I . . .?"

"Not at all," Henderson said. "Go ahead."

Linda unbuttoned the first few buttons on her shirt, freeing her collar. She twisted her neck in a languorous stretch, and Ben couldn't help but notice she was wearing her red strapless push-up bra. She hadn't worn that in . . . well, he couldn't remember. A long time.

Ash followed suit and shrugged off her blue denim jacket, revealing deep cleavage framed by a tank top underneath. She sighed as she draped the jacket over the back of the chair.

"The dress code at this school is frankly Victorian," Henderson remarked. Ben nodded as his eyes roamed over his daughter's ample C cups. Dress codes in general tended to be that way.

Ben decided it couldn't hurt to take a few buttons down on his own shirt. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first two, then turned to face forward again as Henderson continued.

"In any case, I would suggest that you have Ash retake the SAT as soon as possible. Her score of 1210 is rather good, but I think she could get an even better score this time around. Apart from having to do some more study to prepare, she wouldn't stand to lose anything on that chance . . ."

Ben's attention was drawn to the poster hanging behind Henderson's desk. Framed in simple black, it was a simple travel poster, one he expected to find in a travel agent's office.

Visit The Green Isle Today!

it proclaimed against a picturesque circle of standing stones in the foreground, the choppy Atlantic in the background, and clear blue sky above.

Something about the landscape stirred an odd wanderlust in Ben, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he adjusted his pants. They suddenly seemed a bit tight, even after he had taken off his belt.

He pulled his shirt tails up.

"Oh! I almost forgot," said Henderson. He turned to Ash, who looked a bit red in the face. "Miss Lawson, could I get your panties from you now?"

Ash nodded at the simple request, then stood. She hiked up her skirt, as both Ben and Linda watched, bored; Linda was tugging at her bra, Ben noticed out of the corner of his eye.

Ben's daughter reached under her skirt, and pulled her black lace panties down her legs, then stepped out of them. She handed the wad of dark cloth to Henderson, who took them. He stretched them between both his hands, smiling slightly, then opened a drawer in his desk and dropped them in.

"Thanks," said Henderson. "If you would take a seat again, Miss Lawson?"

He gestured toward Ben as he said this, and Ash nodded. She walked over to her father and sat in the chair to his left this time, her legs crossed beneath her skirt. Ben put his arm around his daughter, taking a moment to cup her breast as she leaned in toward him.

He noticed her left nipple was rock hard beneath her bra.

Ben heard a gentle snap from his right, and saw that Linda had unclipped her own bra, sliding it out from under her shirt. Henderson looked toward her, holding out a hand to take it, and Linda handed it to him. It took only a single momentary glance to assure Ben that his wife's nipples were also rock hard, like little pencil ends under her shirt, though he was sure to glance back a few more times just to be sure.

The heat seemed to be only increasing. Ben's cock was now fully erect, tenting the front of his pants. He unbuttoned them, sighing as they loosened about his waist.

He heard a stifled laugh come from Ash, and he looked again to her. She was gazing down at her father's crotch, a smile playing over her lips. Her right hand came to rest over his erection, and even through his pants the stimulation prompted a sudden groan from him. He slid forward involuntarily under his daughter's touch.

This stuffy heat was getting to them all, it seemed.

Ben turned his attention back to Henderson, or at least he tried to. Ash's ministrations kept his mind busy, but he did at least follow the counselor's general topic on what colleges he recommended his daughter apply to.

"I'm sorry," said Henderson after another moment. "I need you to pay attention to this part."

"Oh, no, I apologize," said Ben as he saw his wife slip her shirt off entirely. "Just the heat, you know."

"Completely understood," said the counselor, holding forward a sheet of paper. "This is a list of colleges I recommend, in any case," he handed it to Ben. "The URLs for their applications are listed there -- actually, do you have an email address I could send this to as well?"

"Uh, yeah," said Ben, as he stifled another groan.

Henderson handed him a pen. "Just write it here," he indicated a blank sheet of paper sitting on his desk. "And if you could pull your cock out after you do, that would be grand."

It would indeed, Ben thought. He was suddenly grateful his daughter had such a thoughtful man helping her transition from high school to college. He wrote down his personal email address on the paper, then pulled down his pants and boxers, stepping out of them and his dress shoes as he went to sit back down.

He grinned at Henderson's appreciative gaze. Apparently the counselor swung both ways.

When he turned his attention back to his daughter, he saw Ash had pulled down the straps on her bra and shirt, though her nipples were still technically covered, unlike his wife's. Her legs were fully spread as her skirt was hiked up, her bare pussy on full display.

It was quite pink, and had grown quite wet under her finger's ministrations, he noticed. Her shirt had ridden up as well, revealing a silver four leaf clover charm hanging from her navel piercing.

She grabbed his cock as he rested his bare ass against the seat, teasing the head as he groaned in appreciation. He pressed his lips against her neck, working his way up to her mouth, then shared with her a long moan-laced kiss with plenty of tongue exchanged.

As he pulled back, Ash bit his bottom lip. This simple action made him want to tear her shirt off right then and there, and start mauling her tits in earnest, but he restrained himself. He was sitting in the middle of a public school, after all.

He turned toward his wife, wanting to ask permission to seat their daughter on his lap, but saw she was no longer sitting next to him. He looked about the room, surprised, his eyes finally resting on the bobbing head between Henderson's thighs. Ah. That made sense.

Henderson nodded to Ben, seemingly giving him permission on Linda's behalf. Ben took his daughter's hand in his and guided her beautiful, bare ass onto his knee. There, that was better.

For the next few moments, the adults collectively decided to take a short break from the discussion. Henderson's eyes rolled up in his head, Ben saw, as his hips began to thrust against Linda's mouth. Ash decided to take a page from her mother's book and sank to the floor, taking the head of Ben's cock into her mouth as she continued stroking.

Ben's hand rested on his daughter's beautiful brown hair, gently encouraging her to take his cock in deeper. With every stroke, his posture worsened, his back beginning to arch from the incredible waves of pleasure his daughter was imparting.

"Oh fuck," he groaned. "Yes, just like that, my little Aisling."

He felt his daughter giggle through his cock as he began to thrust more earnestly. With a pop, she pulled her mouth away from his cock, her expression making it throb all the more. Ben sat up as she pulled her shirt and bra down, exposing her tits to the room.

Ash reached up for Ben's loose paisley tie, pulling the knot down. "You don't need this right now, huh, Daddy?" Ben shook his head as she pulled it up and off, slipping it around her own neck. She pulled the knot tight against her adam's apple.

Then, leaning over his crotch, she pressed his cock between her tits and slowly began to fuck it with her ample cleavage, his tie hanging over his thighs. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ben started chanting, like a mantra. He was getting close.

Sensing this, Ash's rate increased, as Ben heard Henderson himself begin to groan in approaching orgasm. Ben continued chanting "Fuck," his voice far beyond a whisper now.

"Say my name, daddy," he heard his daughter whisper.

"Oh, Aisling," he complied. "Aisling, Aisling, Aisling . . ." his voice now raised to a yell as his balls began to tighten, ready to cum. He stood up suddenly, taking his cock in hand, as Ash leaned back, her own hand working furiously down below.

". . . Aisling, Aisling, AISLING!"

Ben's cock began to ejaculate, far more powerfully than he thought he was capable. His semen painted his daughter's chest, tits and tie. It splashed over her chin and nose as well as Ash shook in simultaneous orgasm.

"Oh, Aisling . . ."

As the ejaculations began to lessen, his daughter took his cock in her mouth, drinking in the last of his semen. Ben looked over and saw Henderson had similarly unloaded all over his wife. The counselor winked at him, and Ben nodded in appreciation.

"Why don't you borrow my desk, Mr. Lawson?" Henderson said, as he began to clear the papers from it. Ash stood up and sat at the edge of the desk as Ben knelt in front of her. She efficiently shed all her remaining clothes save her borrowed tie, and waggled her breasts at her father.

He supposed it was only fair to her to repay what she had given, and soon enough Ash was gasping as his tongue danced along the pink folds of her pussy, the four leaf clover charm dancing right above his eyes. Far more quickly than he had anticipated, Ash buckled under his ministrations, shaking in orgasm as her juices coated Ben's face. Ben licked these up appreciatively.

His cock had hardened again, and he stroked it a few times as Ash lay back across the wooden desk. He saw his wife, Linda, gingerly lowering herself over Henderson's cock as he sat in his chair, his hands at her breasts, gently kneading them.

The door to the office opened.

"Mr. Henderson?" came a female voice through the door. A tall, youthful teacher stepped through. "Sorry to interru-- oh, my Lord!"

Ben slowed the beat of his stroking out of politeness, as he saw the teacher's eyes widen in shock. Henderson fixed his gaze on her, however, his face unnaturally calm.

"Ah, Mrs. Williams!" he said. "Glad to see you. I take it you needed to give me your panties for the day?"

Mrs. Williams look of shock slowly faded as she closed the door behind her. "Oh, uh, yes. Yes, of course." She looked down at the sheaf of papers she was carrying. "Also, these are the parental consent forms for next week's class field trip."

"Perfect," Henderson said, gently motioning Linda to extircate herself from him, and standing up as she did so. Ben noted he was completely nude at this point. He took the sheaf of papers, rifled through them quickly, then set them at the edge of his desk in their own pile.

Mrs. Williams hiked up her skirt and pulled down her panties, a scarlet number with delicate lace. She handed them to Henderson in a wad, and the latter stretched them out between his hands as he had Ash's. Then, he dropped them into the same drawer he had deposited the other pair.