"No more monkeys bouncing on the bed." I growled from outside my daughter's almost fully shut bedroom door.
That line echoed back to her childhood, when Dulcie and her older sister Carolyn had shared the room. They would go up to bed, and more nights than not, my wife and I would hear them bouncing on their beds long after lights out. I would climb the stairs, and settle them down.
Caro, the more adventuresome of the two, soon learned to answer, "Ain't no monkeys bouncing on the bed," while Dulcie would just giggle. They would settle down though.
That had been years ago. Both my daughters were now grown -- Carolyn had left for college a week earlier, while Dulcie, barely eighteen, still was finishing high school. It was their first time apart -- they had even gone to the same summer camps, and Caro had taken up cheerleading the same season as Dulcie, so that they travelled to games, competitions and training together.
I had bought them a trampoline to support the cheerleading. They invited team mates over to practice routines and exercise. They nagged me to add a pool in our spacious back yard, but their mother had always vetoed the idea. Imagine my shock when, after their Mom was killed by a drunk driver during Dulcie's sophomore year, their reaction was joy at the prospect of finally getting their way. I held out to try teaching them a lesson, but could never resist their charms.
It was only after the pool was in use that I realized my wife's eagerness had allowed me to suppress feelings stirred by the workouts on the trampoline. With a pool, yard, and often house, filled with bikini clad cheer babes, without a horny mate who had loved to fuck at least daily, I found it hard to resist the allure of these half clothed young women. Most of Carolyn's classmates were over eighteen, so legal. They populated my frequent fantasies.
I perfected the art of standing just beside the second floor window overlooking the pool and trampoline. Out of sight from below, at least on casual glance, I could peer downwards. Just to make sure everybody was behaving, of course.
Little wonder that before long, I found myself muttering, "now there's a monkey that could bounce on my bed," as a firm young thonged bared ass wiggled past me towards my kitchen in search of more lemonade. Then one day, I thought that aloud and felt my wood harden as I walked onto the deck and saw a young woman bent over a lounge chair, her ass turned up towards my eyes, a candy striped triangle of cloth stretched across the rear, but caught tightly as it curved under her body, trapped in the folds of her labia. She was the only one poolside that afternoon, and I automatically started calculating whether I had time to finally enjoy a monkey bouncing on my bed, my feet leading me in her direction a couple of steps faster than my brain could keep up.
Suddenly, the girl stood and spun to face me.
"Hi Daddy," Carolyn bubbled, almost leaping forward to give me a hug, her long arms wrapping around behind my neck, squeezing my body fully against hers. The troll-like part of my brain still found time to register that her tits -- that's the word I thought of my own daughter -- 'tits'- were also barely contained by tiny striped triangles. In fact, about half the round mounds were exposed on four sides where the fabric strained against skin. Her nipples were hard little pebbles stretching the covering even further.
Hard pebbles which were drilling into my pecs before my brain caught up. My cock grew tumescent, straining at the swim shorts I always wore around the house during summer. Luckily, that day I wore a baggy pair - a choice which had become frequent that summer as I tried to hide the shameful automatic reaction to the display of nubile cheerleaders on hand.
My hands slid effortlessly down my daughter's tanned back, about to cup two perfect handfuls of ass, but just before that moment, which would have changed everything, my conscience kicked in, and stopped my palms at her waist.
"What's up buttercup?" I stammered, stepping back to create separation between our bodies.
Caro had just giggled in response, stood on her tiptoes, which had caused her nipples to gently brush my chest again, and then had kissed the tip of my nose before releasing me and spinning past. The touch of her naked hip against my shorts lingered long after it finished. I automatically turned to check out the bounce in her step as she headed into the house. Of course, that meant I was checking out her ass as well.
"Forbidden fruit," I reminded myself then, repeating the phrase about twenty times. Even though she was eighteen, she was my daughter. Fortunately, Carolyn stayed inside, and I dove into the pool to cool down my illicit excitement.
By the time I went back into the house, Carolyn was in the shower. I fought back unbidden images of how her tanned body might look as she slid a sudsy sponge along that skin, caressing her perfect orbs, lingering an extra second or two to tease her own nipples, maybe even humping the sponge. My evil cock rose to the occasion.
"I wonder how that sponge feels," I heard myself say as I leaned back on my bed, rubbing my bulge through my shorts, eyes half shut, staring at the ceiling.
"Silly, sponges have no feelings," I answered my own question, though in my imagination it was my giggly girl talking. "But your cock definitely has a mind of its own."
The water was still running, so I took the risk of unzipping my shorts and unleashing my monster. I told myself that I would relieve my hormones, but I would NOT think about my sexy daughter. Her hot friends, at least the ones already eighteen, were a different story. I focussed my brain on recalling pictures of them bouncing on the trampoline. Before long, I had sorted through various images to settle on Jeanie, a very thin cheerleader, with a bouncy blonde ponytail which flipped up in counterpoint with her improbably large boobs as she bounced.
"She could bounce on my bed anytime." I repeated as my fist pumped my meat, the slit in the tip beginning to gape open as if gasping for breath.
I was lost in visions of Jeanie, in a white tube top, doing splits in mid air, her chest thrusting forward as her fingers touched her toes, nipples readily visible through the sweat drenched top. Somewhere along the way, I fell back on my bed, cock poking straight up fisting it furiously like a kid who had just discovered masturbation, hoping to get off before his mother walked in. Or in my case, before Jeanie, or worse, one of my daughters, came past, heard my groans and came to investigate.
