Daughters and Fathers Ch. 06


He and Britta sat on the bed, looking at each other in the mirror, until Maren returned from tending the laundry. She snorted and smiled when she saw them, and then remarked:

“Sure looks like …, well, … like Britta said this morning, … nice.”

“Um-hmm,” they both agreed, not changing their position.

He squeezed Britta’s breast, and she nodded. Maren smiled and changed the subject:

“Yes, the washing was finished, put it in the drier. And it does feel funny to be running around like this.”

“Um-hmm. I don’t want us to, to see you two like this anywhere else, or you, me.”

The girls nodded understandingly. He smiled and added:

“I don’t care what you have or don’t have on underneath, just so that it looks like you’re dressed.”

The girls nodded again, this time with slight smirks. Maren said:

“I was thinking of bringing us beers. Shall I? Can I go like this?”

She held out her arms to emphasize her nakedness, smirking again.

He snorted and replied:

“Good idea, … as long as I can’t see you.”

She nodded with another smirk and hurried off. When she returned with three beers, he and Britta were still sitting like that, but had moved back towards the wall, leaning against it with their legs extended over the edge of the bed, and her hand was now in his lap, just holding his soft cock and his balls, gathered up in her fingers. Maren snorted with a slight, brief smile and said:

“I guess so.”

“I didn’t know where else to put it,” Britta replied, fondling.

“Hmm! Almost anywhere else, … but I would have, too. Here.”

She handed them their beers, offering Britta hers close to that hand, but she reached over and took it with her other hand, grinning at her sister, who responded:

“Just don’t get too possessive; remember, it’s mine, too.”

“Hmm! No, it’s mine,” their father quickly interjected, adding: “and your mother’s.”

The girls started at his mentioning her. He smiled, slightly apologetically, and murmured:

“But she can hold it for now. Thanks, skaal.”

The girls nodded, looking more relaxed, and also said “skaal.” They all drank and smiled at each other again. Maren plumped herself down on his other side, and he put his other arm around her, apologizing for not also holding her breast:

“I have to hold my beer.”

“Hmm! Weak excuse.”

He let the cool bottle dangle and rub over her nipple. It popped out and she squealed.

“That’s unfair!

“Give it to me,” Britta said, reaching over with the hand that had been holding him. He let her take it and put his hand on Maren’s breast.”

“Still cold,” she murmured, her nipple still stiff in his palm, but then it relaxed. The girls had a sip, and Britta offered him one from his bottle. After he drank, and they relaxed, he murmured:

“At least, we didn’t get like this because we were drunk.”

“It bothers you,” Britta asked softly.”

“I said that; … I guess so, a little. … I didn’t think so, … but I said it.”

“I guess so, … but we all wanted to – want to.”

Maren nodded without commenting at this sudden change of subject. He also nodded, then replying softly:

“Yes, … we did, we do, … I do, … even if I said that. … How could I help but?”

“It surprised us, too.”

Maren nodded again. He appreciated her unusual reticence. He also nodded and then said: “Skaal.”



The girls smiled slightly, and they all drank, he, with Britta’s help. They smiled at each other again, having with their skaals confirmed their understanding. He squeezed their breasts. Britta saw Maren’s hand moving towards his lap and nodded, murmuring:

“Go ahead; … I did.”

Maren smiled in appreciation, and her hand descended in his lap, her fingers gathering up his balls with his cock in her palm. He squeezed their breasts again. For a while, they just sat there like that, enjoying their familiar intimacy, his and Maren’s fingers moving slightly. When they recognized that they all were looking at the mirror, they smiled at each other, nodding slightly. Britta offered him another sip, and then the girls drank, and a minute or two later, she silently offered him another one, and they also drank again.

After another minute or two, he snorted and then tweaked their nipples and murmured:

“We haven’t been so silent in a long time.”

“Hm-umm, … but nice,” Britta agreed.

Maren nodded, finally speaking softly:

“Very nice.”

He nodded, as her fingers fondled his balls. It was still another minute or two, before he broke their reverie:

“I’m hungry. At least, I really will be by the time the meatloaf is ready.”

The girls nodded, and he released their breasts and took his beer from Britta. Maren gave his balls another fondle and took her hand from his lap. They looked at each other with slight smiles and drank again without saying skaal.

As they were standing up, he reminded them:

“Put something on. I will.”

The girls nodded, and he ankaraescortbayansitesi.com went back to the other bedroom and found loose pants and a shirt and put them on, liking the feeling of having no underpants to keep his cock and balls from jostling. The girls joined him in the kitchen, Britta in a light shirtwaist dress – as he had envisaged. Maren was wearing a jersey dress, that was only a longer t-shirt, reaching half-way down her thighs. He nodded his approval with a snort. Maren snorted and remarked:

“Just remind us to hike them up before we sit down.”

“Hm-hmm! I’ll try to, but then don’t sit on the upholstery.”

They all chuckled that he had understood that they weren’t wearing panties, and went about preparing their dinner. Since they had to wait for the meatloafs to bake, they had another beer. With skaals, they drank and he said that he was going to read the newpapers, and went in the living room. The girls smiled wryly and then went back and got panties, demonstrably pulling them up as they returned to the living room, and also read. Eventually, they ate and cleaned up. When they looked at each other, he said:

“I’m going to keep my pants on, … in case you were wondering.”

The girls snorted with slight nods. Then Maren suggested:

We could take a walk,” adding: “maybe it will rain.”

“Or I can just follow you two and see if anyone looks at you.”

Britta smoothed down the front of her dress to emphasize her breasts, and that she didn’t have on a bra.

With chuckles, they set off, heading down into town. He only followed them when there wasn’t space to walk three abreast, and then where there were more pedestrians.

He wondered if anyone following them also noticed that through the skirt of Britta’s light dress one could see the contrast between her white panties and tanned thighs, then snorting silently at the thought that without her panties, maybe he would be the only one to consider that she didn’t have any on, their assuming she was wearing flesh-colored panties, or not noticing at all, since it was only the contrast that caught his eye – well, not really; she had a nicely shaped bottom.

While he was observing that nothing similar could be seen through Maren’s dress, and then thinking that it wouldn’t show anyway, since she hardly tanned, a young man suddenly stopped the girls, greeting them and then turning to Britta and saying with a smile:

“You look better than I remember.”

He recall then that he was one of her earlier boyfriends. Which one? Before or after she started sleeping with boys? Britta gestured at her father, and said:

“You remember my father. You remember Lars.”

“Of course, hallo. Hm-hmm! You also look better than I remember.”

They all smiled, and Lars snorted and replied:

“You do, too; … I had trouble with looking at girls’ fathers back then.”

“And me?” Maren remarked.

“Just as good as ever with your red hair; … no, also better, … a little, well, … more grown-up.”

His eyes had glanced down at her breasts.

“Um-hmm,” her father agreed with a slight smile, and the others nodded. Lars turned back to Britta and asked if she was doing anything that evening. She glanced at the other two, blushing slightly as she asked:

“Am I doing anything this even?”

“No, you’ve done enough, … helping with the laundry and baking the meatloaf,” her father replied, appreciating her strong blush and erect nipples in response to his first words.

“Good, then maybe we can, if you want: movie, dancing?”

“If you want. Where shall we meet, when?”

“Eight? I can come by your place.”

“Nice, thank you. Eight.”

They all shook hands and parted. When the three of them were out of earshot, Britta complained:

“That was mean, saying that.”

“Oh, I lied, including the laundry, but I thought that made it sound better.”

“Hmm! Still embarrassing.”

“Now he is sure that you aren’t wearing a bra – must like that – and could have thought that is why you blushed.”

“Hmm! I certainly did. Lars was the first boy I slept with.”

“Now you tell us,” Maren interjected.

“Hope you have a pleasant evening, … or more, … if you haven’t ‘done enough’.”

“You are mean. And if we do?”

“Enjoy yourselves, just be home in time for an early start.”

“Maybe you aren’t so mean.”

“And that would solve the bed question,” Maren added.

“Hmm! Enjoy yourselves.”

They all snickered with smirks, and continued their walk, stopping for coffee and cake, smirking slightly again, when they were facing each other at the table. As they strolled back towards home, Maren asked:

“How are you going to explain your tan, … if, well, he gets to see it?”

“Not from being with me at the cabin,” he interjected.

“You think he will? That you will?” Maren asked.

“Little sister’s shouldn’t ask such questions,” Britta replied, but nodded slightly, adding:

“Maybe, … who knows, … if he wants to?”

“So you would want to?”

“Tell her she shouldn’t ask such questions! … Yes! … Wouldn’t you?”

“Oh yes, now that he thinks I look more grown-up.”

“Hmm! Good thing that he didn’t suggest taking you both to the movie or dancing.”

They all snickered again, and Maren returned to her first question:

“And your tan? Almost had to be at the cabin.”

“Hmm? There are places where one can swim and sun naked.”

“But hardly alone, so then with someone you would have been there with.”

“You both were alone at the cabin,” he suggested.

“You would have let us be there alone?” Britta asked.

“No, but better – with hindsight – than trusting your cousin to keep you out of trouble.”

“Hm-hmm! Oh, but he did. Who could know what we might have done if we had been alone, and let all our boyfriends know?”

“Maren is right, but she has very wild fantasies. We would have just told one boyfriend.”

He smirked and asked:

“Just one, for both of you, or one each?”

Maren snickered and replied:

“One each, of course. All very proper: two cabins: boys’ and girls’. You wouldn’t have minded that.”

“Hmm? I wouldn’t have believed that! One – supposedly – shy cousin, but not both of you , and don’t believe you would have dare to suggest it.”

The girls nodded with smiles, but Maren then grinned, remarking:

“Probably, but – hm-hmm! – we wouldn’t have done anything you wouldn’t have done.”

“Couldn’t have,” he murmured.

He smiled wryly at them, and they were silent until they were back home. He suggested that girls fold the clean laundry, and they went off, while he returned to catching up on the news. When the girls returned, Britta said that she would take a nap. The others snorted slightly with nods. Maren said that she would try to take one to, smirking slightly at her father, who replied that he probably should, too, but wanted to finish reading the papers.

When they disappeared, it occurred to him that his suggesting that he should also take a nap, could have been interpreted as agreement with Maren about how they might spend the night, although he had said it just to show his agreement that a nap was a good idea. He rustled the paper and snorted, admitting that it also was in the sense that Maren’s smirk had suggested. He fell asleep after a few minutes, the paper slipping from his hands.

He was roused by hearing Maren ask her sister:

“What are you going to wear?”

He picked up the paper again, snorting at their typical discussion before a date, assuming that Britta had already taken a shower. He resumed reading, waiting to see what she had chosen. Shortly before eight, the girls joined him. Maren snorted and remarked:

“Have a nice nap? I looked out before, while she had her shower.”

“Um-hmm. That looks nice.”

Britta was wearing a light summer sweater with a V-neck that showed just a little cleavage, and a skirt, both in colors that looked well with her tan. She smiled and stepped closer, leaning down allowing him a glance inside her sweater, as he smelled the perfume that he had given her for her eighteenth birthday.

“And smell good, too,” he added.

“Thank you.”

She gave him a filial kiss on his cheek, as the girls had always done before they went out in the evening. He snorted with a nod. A few minutes later, Lars knocked at the door. Britta greeted him, and they came into the living room. He greeted the others, and wished them a pleasant evening. They managed to reply without snorts after all the talk on the way home. As they were leaving, he called after them:

“And remember, we want to start early in the morning.”

Lars and Britta nodded. When they had closed the door, he asked her:

“What was that about?”

“We’re’ going back to the cabin for a week.”

“He thinks …, well, …?”

“Maybe. I told him you were the first boy I slept with.”

“You did?! … You were, too – girl.”

“I thought so.”

“Don’t remind me! … You’ve all been at the cabin?” And your mother?”

“Umm! Had to visit her parents; her mother had a stroke.”

“Oh! I’m sorry about that.”


“Just the three of you?”

“Of course. Nice, but kind of lonely.”

“Should have told someone.”

“We got a lot of time in the sun, though.”

“I noticed. Nice tan. I guess Maren with her red hair doesn’t.”


They smiled at each other and were silent for a while as they walked on.

Back in the house, Maren had snorted at her father’s parting remark and said:

“That could give him ideas.”

“Since she said she would, if he did, I thought it would be a little compensation for having embarrassed her this afternoon.”

“Might have again. What are we going to do?”

“Have supper and a beer.”

“Or two.”

“Or two, even three, … to put us to sleep. Good thing that Britta’s not here.”

“Hmm! We both had a nap.”

“I thought you would say that. Supper: the rest of the meatloaf with a fried egg and the rest of the potatoes.”

“Sounds good.”

He got up, and they went to the kitchen and fixed supper, starting their second beers with skaals, after they sat down to eat. It was so apparent how they were going to spend the night, that making conversation was a little difficult. Maren’s speculations about what Britta and Lars might do, was just an indirect reference to what they both knew they would be doing, maybe not immediately after cleaning up, but certainly after their third beers.

They had them while watching TV. Before she sat down next to him on the sofa, she smirked and showed him that she still on her panties, not discretely; like a little girl, pulling the bottom of her dress up to her waist, giving him a full front view. He snorted, recalling his thought on the street about the lack of contrast between her pale skin and the white panties, now confirmed. She dropped down beside him, and they sipped at their beers, watching a summer rerun. He wasn’t surprised when after several minutes she put her hand in his lap, murmuring:

“Britta said I could.”

“It’s mine, not Britta’s.”

“That’s why I like it.”


He didn’t object, when her fingers began to move, trying to feel him through his pants. Before she could, his cock was trying to make it easier for her, swelling in anticipation, but still down between his thighs. She felt it with a little snort in recognition that it was already larger. He also snorted, and let his thighs open and put his right arm around her, immediately letting his hand slide down and hold her breast. She nodded, and her hand slipped down between his thighs, her fingers finding and rubbing his ball, and then trying to urge his cock to move up. He rubbed her nipple, first moving his fingers on the cloth, then moving it with his fingers. She hummed and seemed to take that as permission to do more. Her hand slid up and found the tab of his zipper, but had difficulty moving it. He snorted as she struggled with her left hand. She murmured:

“It’s easier from the other side.”

“Hmm! You could have thought of that before, … since you know. I’m not going to help you.”

“Aw, please.”

“I’ve got my hands full.”

He held up his beer and squeezed her breast. She chuckled and struggle further, finally sliding it down. She glanced over from watching the TV and gave him grin, and then her hand slipped into his pants. When her fingers felt his hair, she snorted and remarked:

“Weren’t you also supposed to wear underpants?”

“Men are built differently.”

Hm-hmm! As if I didn’t know.”

Her fingers found his cock, that had relaxed during her struggle with the zipper. She hummed as she got her fingers around it, and hummed again, when she felt it begin to stiffen, and again, when his fingers rolled her stiff nipple and pulled on it. As she began to pull his cock out of his pants, he murmured:

“Not in here. This is bad enough.”

“Not good enough.”

“That too.”

They finished their beers and stood up. He tucked the head of his cock back in his pants, and handed her his empty bottle. She took the bottles back to the kitchen, while he turned off the TV, and they went to the girl’s bedroom. She was already gathering up the bottom of her dress and pulling it up over her head. When he went straight on into the bathroom, she tossed her dress aside and followed, remarking:

“I’ve got to go, too.”

She snorted at the way he was having to hold his cock down to aim at the toilet. She stripped off her panties and waited for him to finish, beginning to twitch her knees. He snorted at her discomfort and turned down the seat without flushing. She sat down, and immediately they heard her stream hissing in the toilet bowl. She grinned up at him, swinging her panties on one finger, and watched him unbutton his shirt and kick off his shoes, still sitting there, as he let his pants drop.

She snorted and gave him another grin, as she reached out and held his now relaxed cock. Drawing closer, she leaned forward and licked the last drops from his knob, then murmured:

“Doesn’t taste much after all the beer.”

“Hm-umm, not much color, either.”

They chuckled. As he stepped out of his pants, by habit, she wiped her pussy and flushed. He picked up his shoes and pants, and they returned to the bedroom. When he shook his pants straight and laid them on Britta’s bed, she said:

“You don’t think she’ll be back? I don’t either.”

He snorted and took off his socks. She opened up her bed and lay down with a grin, murmuring:

“You know what I want to do.”

“Hmm! Not hard to guess: anything and everything.”

“Um-hmm! But I was only thinking about what I wanted to do first.”


“What I started in the bathroom. I want to suck your cock.”

“And I want to lick your pussy.”

“That’s good.”

“And then we can go to sleep.”


She nodded with a sweet smile, as he began to lie down with his feet at the head of the bed. He pulled her down the bed, and they curled up together with their heads on each other’s thigh. They took their time, enjoying what they were doing and what the other was doing.

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