The next night was a family night. Robert would be leaving for school the next evening and Katie would leave the day after that. So the family was gathered in the living room and watching something, Dale wasn't really sure what. Katie elected to sit next to him on the couch in front of the television. The way their living room was constructed, a large plaster pillar was smack dab in the middle of their space. To the right of the couch and diagonal from the television was the second couch. Robert was sitting on the floor against the couch and Mary was sitting on the opposite, already very close to drifting off. From where Dale was sitting he could barely see either of them around the pillar.
Katie came downstairs in gym shorts and a loose undershirt. She planted a kiss on his cheek and pulled the quilts out of the closet. She draped one happily over her mother and then took the second and laid it across Dale's lap and her own.
"It's not really cold enough for that," he told her. She nuzzled lovingly against his shoulder and shushed him.
"I want to cuddle," she said stubbornly. He sighed. His daughter nestled against him, placing both hands on his arm and molding her body against his. He smelled her conditioner and tried to blot out last night. He chalked it up to a weird concoction of late nights and drinking and...Hell, he thought. He'd been unable to sleep for the majority of that night. Even her warm skin and thighs, which were drawn up against his leg, gave him trouble. But he put it out of his mind. As the movie started to play he found himself, lulled by the rhythmic breathing of his daughter, the insensate plot of the drama, and the warmth of the quilt, to a soft, sudden sleep.
He was hard. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming... He felt awake. But that sensation...
He was hard. He was so hard. And soft, wet warmth caressed his dick. It dribbled down from his cockhead and struck his balls. It pooled in his tangled pubic hair until thick moisture ran down his inner thighs. It was wet. A groan forced its way from deep inside his throat. And he was hard. A stark mind boggling suction lanced over his shaft. Out flitted an insistent lick—that was it, it was a lick! It trailed from the head of his penis down to the base of his shaft and lovingly gave way as a slick, muscular softness embraced him and sunk him thickly against folds of warm flesh. When it retracted a new softness, one of skin, bumped against the base of his dick. It was a chin, he realized, and his penis was suddenly coated with a thick sheen of saliva.
He woke with a start. A hand pressed against his chest frantically. It was the touch of someone telling him to keep back. He looked down. Delicate fingers, well manicured. The fingers clutched at his chest. Sparks shot in front of his eyes. He saw the television. What was happening? Then a slick, rolling slurp alerted him to his lap. His dick slid down someone's throat.
