Sleepwalking Daddy

PART 1

There it was again. That little thump. The sound of dad's feet getting out of bed. It had happened more and more often recently. Dammit. And I had just gotten all nice and cozy under the covers, too. Now I had to get up, go downstairs, make sure he didn't hurt himself ...

I stood up and quickly put on my slippers and my bathrobe. Man, it was really not comfortable, getting out from under that warm duvet. With a big yawn, I made my way from my room down the hallway towards the stairs. Seemed like he had already made it down to the kitchen -- I could hear noises down there. I sped up. Couple of weeks ago, he fired up the water boiler without any water in it. After that, I had gone out and bought one of those with an in-built safety so that it switches off when it runs dry, but there were still lots of other things he could mess up down there.

I found him by the cupboard, crunching away at some raw macaroni, straight out of the package. Not his fault, though. People do all kinds of weird shit when they're sleepwalking. In his head, he was probably having breakfast or something. No, the really awkward thing was that he was naked. Yeah. Didn't matter if he went to bed wearing boxers or even pajamas, they would always come off before he went off on his nightly excursions. It felt really weird the first time I saw him like this. After having been through it a few times, though, I was getting used to it. Seeing my father's naked body wasn't my primary focus anymore -- it was making sure the circuit breakers were off and that the stove was not fired up. Also I had to make sure he didn't mistake the kitchen floor for the toilet. Yeah, we really needed to figure this thing out.

"Come, daddy, back to bed..." I said, giving him a hug from behind while beginning to steer him towards the stairs.

"Mmmmh..." he mumbled, letting himself be nudged along.

It looked really strange -- his eyes were wide open, he seemed completely awake, apart from that vacant facial expression and his docile movements. The first time I saw him walk around in his sleep, I honestly thought he was awake. It was only when he didn't respond when I talked to him that I started wondering what was going on... and when I asked him about it the next day and he had no clue what I was talking about, that I realized something was up.

We managed to puzzle it together that he must have been walking around in his sleep, but we had no idea why and even less of an idea what to do about it. He had been seeing a therapist a couple of times, but being a single dad with a daughter heading off to college soon, he couldn't afford to keep going there, and the shrink hadn't been able to find a quick-fix for it. It was up to us. I didn't know what to do, though, and wasn't sure how things were gonna go if I moved away for college. Maybe I should stay here in town, after all ... the local uni probably wasn't too bad, really, even though I had been dreaming of Harvard. And we'd save a bunch of money if I could stay here at home ... so I could focus on my studies instead of having to find a part-time job ...

We made it back to his room without incident and I managed to maneuver him into bed. I was really tired -- the alarm clock said 03:46, and I had to be up at seven. Thinking about all this stuff hadn't exactly helped either. I felt like I was going to fall asleep while still on my feet. The bed right in front of me looked really enticing right then, so I just slumped down on the mattress and slid underneath the covers with dad. Hadn't done that in ages. Must've been ten years ago, at least. I drifted off, hoping dad would stay still for the rest of the night.

He did do. I awoke from the sound of my phone beeping like mad from my room across the hall. As I was about to move out of bed, I noticed that dad had put his arm around me in his sleep. His warm body was spooning me, and he was holding me, hand on my shoulder and arm draped across my chest. I smiled. It felt nice. Like old times, when I'd had a bad dream and came running in here, scared and needing my daddy. He would always make me feel better. Warm and safe in his strong arms. As I wiggled my way out of bed, I wished I could stay here like this a while longer. Started hating my alarm. And school. Schools should have flexible hours, like dad had at his job. Oh, well, at least I got my license last year so I could drive myself. That saved me some time, not having to take the bus. I took one last look at dad before I left for the bathroom. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

When I arrived back home for dinner, dad was in a good mood. Said he had been sleeping well that night and (as usual) had no memory of walking in his sleep. When I told him that he had been, he seemed surprised. Said he'd had a nice dream and woke up feeling refreshed; usually, he had stressful dreams when he sleepwalked, and woke up feeling tired and stiff.

"That's weird..." he muttered, but didn't elaborate. I wondered if this was just a coincidence.

"What did you dream, then?" I asked as we sat down for dinner together.

"Hm..?"

"You said you had a nice dream? What was it?"

"Oh, that. Oh, nothing, really. You know what dreams are like. Don't make sense. Just... gave me a good feeling, is all."

"Uh huh. Well that's nice."

After dinner, I spent the rest of the day studying for my finals. I really wanted a good score when retaking my SATs, so I spent a lot of time revising -- either with a group from my class or by myself. I was scoring straight A's, but knowing how stiff the competition was out there, I really wanted to do better than the 1310 I scored in my junior year. Not that I was too worried; my teachers said my essays were solid enough to take the score even higher if I could just ace the math section too ...

That, however, took time preparing for. Before I knew it, it had gone dark outside and it was time for bed. Having learned (the hard way) that doing all-nighters was not a good idea, and that having a steady day rhythm definitely was, I grabbed a snack from the kitchen and then headed off to the bathroom.

"Circadian rhythms..." I revised in front of the mirror while brushing my teeth -- I had developed this as a routine whenever I thought of a difficult word. "Circadian... c-i-r-c-a-d-i-a-n... cir-kay-dee-an. Phenomenon relating to a periodicity of approximately 24 hours. Periodicity... p-e-r..."

Okay, time to switch off. It was Friday, for goodness' sake. I did intend to study some more over the weekend, but this was enough for one day. And hopefully, I'd get a good night's sleep this time. The alarm would certainly be turned off. I headed off to bed, spending a bit of time reading John Green before drifting off. Just as I did, though, I heard it again.

"Thump."

"Oh no, you don't." I grumbled and quickly hopped out of bed.

Without even bothering to put on my bathrobe, I just sped out into the hall, determined to catch daddy before he could make it to the stairs. I only had my panties on, but right then I didn't care. He was sleeping anyway, so there was nothing to be shy about.

"Come here, daddy... back to bed.." I said, embracing him and guiding him back to his room.

As I got him back to bed, I felt a chill over my naked skin. I once again slid underneath the covers next to dad. It was a double bed, after all. Plenty of room for the both of us. Plus, I would notice more easily if he got out of bed again. Yes, good idea, I thought. Didn't take long for me to question it, though. Hadn't even fallen asleep yet, when it happened.

I felt him roll over and snuggle up to me. His hairy chest against my back. His beard tickling my neck. His arm coming over my hip to let his hand rest on my lower stomach. It was a two-sided sensation ... I liked daddy's hugs, but it did feel a bit weird to feel his hand stroking my stomach. And it soon moved upwards. My breathing got heavier. My heart rate increased. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. I started thinking about what was happening:

"What if he touches my breast?"

Then he did. Just like that. I wasn't wearing my robe this time. His hand stroked my naked skin and cupped one of my boobs. It felt ... well, good, but ...

"Mmmmh..." he mumbled in his sleep.

I breathed nervously. Shit. He didn't just hug me, his hand was properly holding my breast. Touching. Squeezing. Pulling my body closer. I mean, it was nice -- it was a nice and cozy snuggle, but it definitely felt like a step beyond what you dish out to your daughter. It felt more ... intimate ... than that. Like the kind of snuggle you give your wife. Or girlfriend. Wow. Yeah, that was a strange thought. And what if he woke up? That would be embarrassing ... waking up to the realization that he was lying naked in bed with his half-naked daughter, snuggling her body and fondling her breasts ...

As I puzzled over this, I realized something else. There was something hard pushing at my thigh. At first, I hadn't really noticed what it was, but then ... I did. I felt my cheeks flush.

"Jesus, dad...!" I whispered as one of my butt cheeks was nudged by his erection.

I felt him move behind me. Squeezing me tighter, holding me in a tight hug while his breathing rustled my hair. Okay, this was getting uncomfortable. Not in a physical way -- the sensation of this was actually really nice -- but getting spooned by my own dad while his hard-on dug into my butt definitely gave me some upsetting feelings.

That big, heavy arm of his held me in place, so moving away wasn't easy either. As I started trying, he seemed to pull me even closer, as if he didn't want me to leave. Then his stiff cock started digging into my thigh and it was actually getting a bit uncomfortable.

"Oh, come on.... can't you... move it, or something ...?" I whispered, as if to express my thoughts out loud would somehow make them more manifest.

"Mmh..." he mumbled, probably not even realizing what was happening.

I was half a mind to reach for it and move it away myself, but then I realized what that meant: it would mean actually touching my father's erect cock.

Nnnnoooope! Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope. Not doing that. No way, no how. Instead, I started wiggling my butt, trying to make it move up to the side or something. Maybe if I ... no, pulling away didn't work. Crunching didn't work either, as it would mean letting my legs hang off the edge of the bed. What if I ... no, I was too short to make it lie between us against my back. Hang on, could I ... yes! That worked. Lifting my leg up a bit made it slip in between my thighs. Now it wasn't pushing so hard against my butt anymore. Instead, it was ...

Fuck. This was worse! His cock now pushed directly at my pussy -- shoved as it was in between my naked thighs. My first reaction was one of surprise and shock, my second was one of relief that although I wasn't wearing my robe, at least I was wearing underwear. They were proper hipsters, too, so I was properly covered up. Dad's erection was nudging my pussy but at least there was a layer of reasonably thick fabric between them. I was safe -- we were safe.

So ... why was I getting wet? Was it the fact that his hand was kneading my breast or that he was now seemingly dry-humping me from behind? Was it the fact that he was a big, strong man who held me like a lover, or the fact that he was my dad...? I realized that I had started touching myself down there. It made my cheeks flush with embarrassment; I was getting turned on by spooning with my own father, and it made my stomach churn with butterflies. But ... it felt so good!

I couldn't stop myself. My fingers soon slipped inside the panties No longer held back by a layer of fabric, fingertips started stroking the insides of my labia. Wow. They were wet, all right. Slick with juices. Not just the slight kind, either; I could feel my fingers coming out covered in thick slime. I was getting drenched in sweat too, as my heart pounded harder and harder in my chest. Dad kept snuggling me close, breathing in my ear while still holding and squeezing my left breast. His stiffness still pushed against my crotch.

Plunging several fingers into my cunt, I gave in to lust. Dad's stiff cock kept pushing at my panty-clad pussy while I masturbated, making all sorts of filthy, taboo images flood to the surface of my mind. My clit was throbbing and I used my thumb so massage it feverishly while two of my other fingers kept fucking my slippery pussy.

"MMMMHHH!!"

Cumming in an intense orgasm, I twitched and squirmed under daddy's strong arm, using my free hand to keep my mouth shut. Once it was over, my thoughts turned back to him and the hope that he hadn't woken up from my squirming and moaning. He hadn't. I let out a sigh of relief and felt my whole body relax as I gave in to tiredness. The orgasm had given me a delightful feeling all over, and I drifted off to sleep.

I regained consciousness the following morning as sunlight hit my face through the window. It was an unusual feeling, my own room's window being located at the other side of the house, and for a second, I didn't understand what was going on.

"Why is there sun in my face? What time is it? Is it breakfast time? Why do I feel all sweaty and sticky? And why is there sun in my face?" I thought while slowly remembering where I was.

Daddy hadn't moved all night. He still lay right beside me, spooning me from behind with his arm still draped across my chest. I cast a glance over my shoulder. His face looked peaceful -- almost as if he was smiling. Determined not to wake him up, I slid under his arm and broke free, speedily tiptoeing out of his room and back into mine. I grabbed some fresh clothes and made my way to the bathroom, feeling the need to get some of last night's grime washed off my skin. Dad's duvet was thicker than mine, so it had definitely been a hot night, making me sweat all over myself. Plus, you know, the other thing. Juices. In... places. Hands. Legs. Pussy...

The feeling of shame started to grow as I was washing myself off. Dang it, those had been some really dark and taboo ideas that had popped into me head last night, I thought. I guess that's what being a horny teen does to you -- hormones filling your brain to the level at which you care for nothing except sexual gratification, consequences or decency be damned.

"Gratification... g-r-a-t-i-f-i-c-a-t-i-o-n ... gra-ti-fi-kay-shon..." I mumbled as I turned off the water. Man, was I hungry. Saturday, that meant pancakes. Dad, unusually, was still in bed, so I went downstairs and started making the batter. As I fried up the bacon, I could hear the shower running upstairs ... and I was sure I could hear singing too. Dad was singing in the shower now? Since when?

Over breakfast, he seemed pleased as Punch.

"You sleep well last night?" I asked.

"Yeah, really well." he smiled. "Had a nice dream too. Doesn't feel like I went out on any nightly excursions either -- did you notice...?"

"Mh... no, no, I don't think you did go for a walk last night..." I semi-lied, knowing that I had stopped him before he could actually take that walk.

"Maybe that's what I need to avoid sleepwalking, then. Nice dreams."

He sat there smiling for a while as we ate our pancakes. Then I asked:

"What did you dream about?"

"Hm?" he said, distantly.

"What did you dream about?" I repeated while taking a big bite of my rolled-up pancake filled up with bacon.

"Oh... uhm..."

"Hmmm?"

"I ... dreamed about your mother, actually."

"Oh. Hm.."

"I guess... yeah, I still miss her, you know. And uh... well, last night I just dreamed that she was with me again. I always used to sleep really well after..." He stopped himself. Seemed lost in thought for a moment. "It was really vivid, too ... I mean... It was like she was right there beside me again. I could almost have sworn that I could feel the smell of her hair ..." he said with a smile and a dreaming look in his eye. For a second, I almost thought he was blushing.

Finishing my meal, I left the table, leaving him to his dreamy thoughts, focusing on my own instead. So that was what was going on last night? Did he think I was mom? Was ... was that the reason he was sleepwalking? He was missing mom? I stopped by the wall in the living room and looked at some old photos of him and mom together. She was really pretty. Not just that, she was hot. Smoking hot. She looked like the kind of woman who could make men go crazy with lust and women crazy with jealousy. Man, she even looked like she could make women go lesbian. Looking at one photo of her in a yellow summer dress, I would objectively say that she could easily have walked right onto a Hollywood set or a catwalk in Milan, and anybody watching would have thought she was one of the stars.

According to dad, she was really kind and sweet too -- I understood why he missed her. I guess I did too, in a way, even though she died when I was only two years old. I also had a pretty good idea why dad hadn't dated anyone since her. They'd all seem like second best compared to her. But I guess this could have been one of the things he'd talked about with the therapist. Failing to fully get over the loss of his wife? Yeah, I wasn't a therapist but I figured I'd seen enough drama shows to guess that such a thing could very well be the reason he was walking in his sleep.

Maybe I could... Yeah? An experiment? I could ... try spending the night with him. Again. Just... sneak into his bed, lay there and ... see if that stopped his nightly antics? Yes? No. No, no. Yes. No. Yes. No... Yes, yes. Maybe? Oh fuck! I was considering it. Knowing myself, that meant I probably wanted to do it. Which meant I was probably going to. Shit. Okay, well, there would be no more of that stuff from last night, at least. For one thing, if..

if

... I was going to do this, I was going to wear some night clothes. Maybe he would try to touch my breast again. I should try to stop that. I could wear a bra, I guess. Man, I didn't like that -- not at night. They felt tight. A big T-shirt, maybe? If I borrowed one of his, it would be big enough to use as a complete night gown. As my brain kept coming up with all sorts of ideas and possibilities, I realized that I had already decided to do this. I just had to ... keep control.

The day passed slowly. I tried keeping myself occupied but my thoughts were so focused on my plans for the evening that I found it difficult to focus on anything else. Despite my telling my brain to stop coming up with all sorts of possible scenarios, it kept spinning in every direction and imagining what might happen. Eventually, though, it was time to find out. I followed my plan and put on a big T-shirt to cover my top half, and I also put on a pair of sweatpants to really make sure I was fully clothed. Putting the shirt down the waist of the pants made me pretty well armored, I thought. Yes, this would work fine, daddy wouldn't be able to grope me in his sleep now. Snuggling and cuddling would now be perfectly safe.

I waited for him to fall asleep and slipped into his room as soon as I was sure that he had. Underneath the covers I went, and I took my place on the window side just like last time. I wondered if the idea would work, if it would actually stop his sleepwalking to have someone sleeping next to him. I also wondered if he would snuggle up to me again, like last time. Sure enough, just ten or fifteen minutes in, I could feel him next to me, his arm seemingly searching for something. Finding me there, his body slid up to mine and his arm once more draped itself across my chest and hugged me. For a minute, his breathing relaxed. It felt like he was at peace. Like he had been reaching out, searching for something, now satisfied. It felt really nice, and I settled down to sleep in a close snuggle with dad.