Krista woke from her dream with a gasp. She couldn't remember the details, but the heat emanating from her body and the moistness between her legs were indication enough that it was another erotic dream. She sat up and threw her legs off the bed angrily. There was no reason to be sitting here horny like this. No reason at all. She was a free woman now, and after a solid two years with no sex she deserved to be royally fucked.
But she knew it wasn't that easy. She might be separated from her husband now, living in her parent's guest room, but she was still too painfully shy around men to just go home with one for meaningless sex. No, it looked like she'd just have to satisfy herself once more with her own fingers. She stared out the window wistfully, wondering how she could have allowed herself to get to this point.
Not that she'd ever had men lining up to date her, she reminded herself. Even in high school she'd been a little too plump, a little too nerdy. Now at the age of twenty-nine, she felt like she'd missed the boat. Without realizing it, she'd become her own mother, nearly middle aged and round of hips, with the same mousy brown hair and general shape, same overbite and pale skin, same bad eyesight and tiny breasts. Krista tugged at the threadbare gown she'd had to borrow from her mother, wishing it didn't fit so damn well on her. Tomorrow she'd go back to her house and get some decent night clothes.
She stood and reached for the robe at the foot of the bed, another of her mother's garments. The full length mirror by the wall reflected her image in the dim light, and she wasn't happy with what she saw. With her hair in curlers, she might as well have been looking at her mother. But at least her mother had a man, and not a bad one at that. Krista smiled as she thought of her Daddy, how just that evening he'd told her she was still a beautiful young woman, somehow knowing she'd needed very much to hear that. It'd been a long time since she felt beautiful. Then again, she'd always been a Daddy's girl. She pulled the robe closed and left her room.
She needed masturbation, but she needed the comfort of a snack first. The house was quiet. Daddy had fallen asleep in front of the television again. Krista shut off the television then threw a blanket over her father's sleeping form. He was still a handsome man even at sixty, a full head of hair even. Though now most of that hair was gray instead of black. Sure he had a pot belly and didn't trim his beard neatly, but who couldn't love such a kind-hearted person? Krista felt very warm as she entered the kitchen, and she wasn't sure it was entirely the sultry spring air or the glow of affection that heated her. She decided to fry an egg and got the carton from the refrigerator.
Krista considered herself a fairly competent cook, and it was a task she truly enjoyed. She smiled at the memory of cooking pot roast for her father the night before, the way he'd smacked his lips and ate three helpings, the way he kept saying he'd have to kiss the cook. Mom had thought it cute, too. She got out the butter, salt and pepper, then opened the cabinet to look for the small frying pan. Mom kept the pots and pans below the counter, so she had to stoop over and almost stick her head in up to the shoulders in order to root around inside.
She heard the creak of floorboards and a heavy tread. It could only be her father. He was headed to bed, she reckoned. The footsteps paused at the kitchen doorway. Krista moved the large stockpot aside under the counter, only dimly aware that the footsteps were coming closer. Just as she closed her hand around the small frying pan, a heavy hand touched her ass.
She almost jumped and banged her head but caught herself in time. Before she could react to the surprise of being goosed, the hand began to caress her ass in slow circles. Krista froze. She knew whose hand that had to be. She just didn't want to believe it. Or maybe she felt it was too good to be true. In either case she was still frozen, struggling for the words to tell her father that it was she, his daughter, not his wife, that he was fondling, when the hand left her ass. She sighed and began to back out from beneath the cabinet, but then her father's hands were on her hips, both sides, gripping tightly, and she heard him groan as he pressed his pelvis against her.
Krista froze again as she felt a throbbing hardness nestle between her ass cheeks. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, dropping the pan with a soft clatter. "Shh," she heard her father say. "Don't make too much noise."
