It's okay Daddy - Sex Stories

It's okay Daddy

... Drew Barrymore. *** Harold thought that an exotic holiday would be a great idea. After all, once at university Tracey would become very busy. She'll make new friends, she'll want to go on holidays with them. She may even find a boyfriend there. Their forthcoming holiday was a far cry from the fifty pounds camping trips that Tracey's parents had taken her on. Tracey had never seen a ten thousand pound cheque, let alone handing one over to the travel agent. Tracey was over the moon about sunning herself on the Indian Ocean exotic island, before going to university. The nine hour long-haul flight was tiring, but the first-class seats and the first-class service compensated for that. Five star meals with champagne were served. A personal hostess was assigned to them to wait on them hand and foot. Fiona, the stewardess, was from Eastern Europe. She was a very tall girl with long limbs. Fiona's smile was electrifying. Harold always admired European women in Middle-Eastern attire. In between serving, Fiona would sit opposite Harold. He loved the way she kicked her shoes off as she fastened her seat-belt. Fiona's golden complexion was acquired through her exotic 'busman's' holidays. Her beige stockings hugged her legs perfectly. The burgundy toes stood out through the delicate material. The toes were very erotic, perfectly pedicured to perfection, as were the arches of her feet. Harold always wondered why women's feet smelled so leathery, so sexy, so aromatic. Fiona wriggled her ...

... toes in her stockings, almost as if reading Harold's mind! "Look daddy, champagne. Look daddy, oysters. Look daddy..." Tracey's exuberant enthusiasm put a smile on everyone's face. The vibrant energy of a beautiful young girl, indulging in the finest cuisine, the finest service money could buy, was a marvel to watch. "Look daddy, the houses look so small. Look daddy, we have our own video-on-demand. Look daddy..." Harold closed his eyes gently as his seat reclined into the sleeper position. He felt relaxed, he felt content, as Tracey held his hand tightly; her ebullience showing no signs of ceasing. Tracey's jaw was almost on the floor when the porter showed them to their room. She had only ever seen places like this in the movies or on documentaries. "I hope it won't be too small for you," smiled Harold. "Oh thank you daddy, you're the best. Mummy would've been so happy to be here today -- she's always here with us daddy, always in our thoughts -- watching over us." Tracey planted a sloppy wet kiss on Harold's cheekbone, quickly steering the conversation towards the beautiful weather. Harold tried to look more sanguine than he felt. He wouldn't ever show the effects of his loss, the effects of his desperation, the effects of his helplessness. "I think we're overdressed, honey," he finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Yes daddy, oh my God! Even the porter was a naturist." Tracey cupped both hands over her mouth, still trying to take in the reality of it all. "The ...