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I rose and went to the stereo. My wife had some easy listening CD s, so I chose one of those. Jean and I both liked hard rock. The sound of Chicago filled the air at low volume as I turned back to my daughter. Jean was still sitting. She accepted my hand and rose to her feet as light as an angel. In her shoeless state, the top of her head came only to my chest, and her large breasts pressed into my stomach as we stepped close together. Her small arms went around my waist, and I rested my hands on her bare shoulders. We began to sway to the music, and I tried to concentrate on keeping my erection down. I was semi-hard, and she had to know what was pressing against her tummy. I bent over a little and kissed the top of her head. She looked up, smiling dreamily into my face, and I was so very tempted to lean down and plant a kiss on her pink lips. Maybe I would have if she hadn t stumbled. Damn dress, she muttered, holding up the hem. We pulled apart slightly. I thought. Phillip had first pleaded, then argued, and finally, demanded that she cooperate, but she had resolutely stood her ground, and in the end, she emerged the winner. He had pouted for awhile, looking for all the world like a five year old who'd been deprived of a toy. Then, he'd finally begun to speak to her again, offering to do anything she liked to make it safe. Use rubbers, pull it out in time, anything... and the rest of their day was far from the spring-like romance it had been before. They had driven back to the city in near silence, speaking only as necessary, and then only in monosyllabic utterances, her with an uncomfortable wetness between her legs that soaked her panties and threatened to stain through her dress. And Phillip with that bulging hardness under his trousers that she could see so clearly in the light from the automobile dash gauges.And now this! How could she reconcile all that with what had just this evening happened? She couldn't pretend she didn't know what.
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