Natural Forces Ch. 01 - Sex Stories

Natural Forces Ch. 01

This is the first part of a multi-part story centred around Trish and Mike.

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Unfortunately, this is a mostly true story. I have only changed a few of the details and names, of course, for privacy.

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I guess I've always been a bad sleeper. It always caused me problems. This morning I woke up feeling more tired than when I went to sleep. How does that work? My mind was in the usual just-woken-up scramble. Coffee. I stumbled out, bleary-eyed and made my way into the kitchen. I switched on the jug and pulled open the bag of ground coffee beans. Immediately, the strong scent of the roasted beans made me feel a little more awake. I lost count of the number of scoops I placed in the cafetière. I grabbed the milk from the fridge and waited for the water to boil. I hoped I'd put enough water in the jug.

I've always slept nude and I never bothered to put anything on for the coffee run. So I was naked in kitchen and as I stood waiting, I absent mindedly gave my cock and balls a bit of a rub to get them awake and energised.

"Dad!"

"Oh, shit," I thought. I'd forgotten that Trish, my daughter, was staying with me. She'd just moved back in with me because the uni was nearby. She was starting a post-grad research job there.

"Hey," I tried to say as coolly as one can while standing naked and rubbing one's cock in front of one's twenty-two year old daughter, "want some coffee?"

My brain belatedly suggested that I stop rubbing my dick, lest Trish got the wrong ...

... idea; that just left my cock hanging limp in full view. Well, what the hell, it was a no-win situation.

"Dad," Trish said fairly shocked, "you're not wearing anything!"

"Uh," I somehow replied, "yeah. Sorry about that, Chief. I guess I'm not used to having you here yet. Sorry. I didn't mean to shock you or anything."

"It's OK, I guess," Trish said, her eyes watching my cock like it was a disgusting animal or something weird. "I just wasn't expecting to see..., that, I mean, I wasn't expecting to see you. I mean, I thought you'd be still asleep," she stammered.

"I wish I was," I replied. "Sorry, Trish. Takes us oldies a little while to adjust to new things, you know."

I had just turned fifty, and was still in pretty good shape, I thought. I wasn't a fanatic but I liked to swim laps and ride my bike.

The awkwardness of the situation eased a little; I reached for another coffee mug. The jug had already boiled so I put it back on. I heaped another scoop of coffee into the cafetière and made a pot for us both.

"I don't want you to change the way you live in your own home, Dad," she said considerately.

"It's OK," I replied, "there's always a few compromises to be made when living together. I just wasn't thinking this morning, you know. I'm on autopilot before coffee, remember."

We both laughed. Trish recalled my epic pre-coffee struggles, especially when taking her to rowing or to other sports and pre-school activities. She knew I was a poor sleeper and ...