Hank And McKenzie: Father And Daughter - Sex Stories

Hank And McKenzie: Father And Daughter

Hank Foster was approaching the end of a long day. His company’s construction project downtown kept spawning problems. After leaving the work site, he stopped by the nursing facility where his wife, Hazel, was a patient. She had been in a coma for over two years, but he still checked in every few days, or at least once a week. Hazel had been a ballbuster for a long time, and, at best, an indifferent mother and wife, but Hank could not abandon her completely. Now, at almost 10:00 p.m., he was ready to wrap up a sixteen-hour day by going home, having a beer, taking a shower, and maybe spending some time with his seventeen-year-old daughter, McKenzie.

When Hank walked into the house, most of the lights were off. There was a note from his daughter on the kitchen counter. It read, “Dad, we need to talk. Tomorrow, not tonight. McK.”

“Great,” Hank muttered, “Now what?” But he was too tired to give it much thought at the moment. After cleaning up, he climbed into bed with his tablet and treated himself to a half-hour of porn before jacking off and falling asleep.

The next day was Saturday. Hank had not set an alarm so he managed to sleep in to the outrageously late hour, at least for him, of 8:00 am. There were only the ordinary chores on his schedule for the day. He wanted to put in some time at the gym, and then maybe just watch some baseball. McKenzie probably had field hockey practice but, since she now had her own car, thankfully he did not have to drive her ...

... around.

Then Hank remembered the note. She wanted to talk to him about something. Perhaps they could go see a movie tonight, or at least go out for pizza. He doubted it was serious. Getting out of bed, he dressed and walked downstairs to the kitchen to get some coffee and make breakfast. When he walked into the kitchen, McKenzie was sitting at the counter. Clearly, she was waiting for him.

“Oh, good morning, sunshine,” he said in as chipper a voice as he could muster. There was something about her expression that gave Hank a slightly ominous vibe. “What time do you have to be at practice?”

McKenzie simply replied, “Later.” Then she added, “I’m not sure I’m going today. I sent coach a text that I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Really? What’s wrong?” Hank thought that maybe all she wanted to tell him was that she felt ill.

“I’m not sick, Dad,” she replied. “I just wanted the option not to go today.”

“I see,” her father replied. But Hank did not see. McKenzie was not a liar, and she rarely missed any practices or school days. She was too responsible. Ever since her mother’s car accident, McKenzie handled a lot of the household tasks, on top of schoolwork and athletics. He figured he might as well get whatever it was out onto the table. “So, I got your note last night, sweetie. What’s up?”

McKenzie took a deep breath and swiveled the bar stool to face her father. Hank felt a wave of arousal wash over him. He did not like to admit it but in the last few months, he had started to ...