Daughters and Fathers Ch. 07

He put his hand back on Britta's breast and then fondled them both, remarking:

"I couldn't want yours to be any better - what ever that means - but where did you get that idea?"

"Read somewhere that most of the girls at the Follies Bergère and Moulin Rouge in Paris are Scandinavian or English, because French girls don't have such nice breasts."

"Hmm! If you say so. Haven't seen many."

Britta snorted, encouraging his fingers to move on hers again, and asked:

"Not even in Playboy or other pictures?"

"Photos don't count, and too many of them are too big."

"Hmm! So you have seen photos?"

"Um-hmm, but don't tell. What I don't like are ones with big pink areas."

"Then you like ours."

"Very!"

He circled their nipples with a finger. They all snorted, feeling them pop out. He added:

"And like that your nipples aren't so small - like some others - when they're like this."

He rubbed a finger over each of them and then held them. The girls hummed, and one said:

"We do, too."

"Um-hmm, but don't start anything, unless you really want to."

"Just too nice to play with, but I guess not."

He cupped his hands around their breasts again, and the girls held them, nodding on his arms.

The girls again drew their thighs up and let the sun shine on their pussies, and they lay there comfortably in silence, almost dozing.

What few thoughts he had were free of erotic connections, despite the fact that his hands were on a breast of each of his daughters; and also free of any compunctions about their situation, despite its being so erotically motivated. He just dozed in the very comfortable and now so familiar position of lying between his naked daughters, feeling the weight of their relaxed thighs resting on his.

He was roused by feeling Maren stir and then snort, then her murmuring:

"Nice and warm in the sun; just felt a drop of perspiration slide down between my legs."

"Hmm! Are you sure it was just perspiration, knowing you?" Britta asked.

"Um-hmm, really, ... whatever you were thinking it might be."

"Not really; I just said that."

"Typical; wanting to think that about me."

"I just said it, thinking you wanted to hear some response, since you wanted to tell us that."

"Oh, I guess so. ... Hm-hmm! Let me see if you're really tanned down there."

"Hmm! It feels like it should be."

He snorted as Maren sat up. His hand slid down her back, as she leaned down over him. Britta snorted and drew her thighs up and let them flop wider apart. Maren crouched over him with her head under Britta's leg, peering at her pussy. His hand slid further down her back, his fingers in the start of her crevice. She twitched her hips, and his fingernails scratched a little. She snorted and remarked:

"Don't distract me; this is serious."

He scratched again, but replied:

"And? Tanned?"

"Hmm? I think so, ... even through her hair, and certainly where there isn't any."

Her fingers suggested where she meant. Britta snorted and murmured:

"That tickles. Are you sure? ... Oooh! I didn't mean to suggest that you do it again."

"Why not? Yes, it definitely is tanned a little, not as pale as here."

Maren's finger traced the white line where there was a crease under Britta's ass when she was standing or lying on her stomach. Maren blew on her pussy, and then said:

"Or maybe here."

"Oooh!" Britta responded.

Maren had pressed her pussy lips back to see if their inside surfaces were tanned, snorting and remarking:

"Hard to say; they're more pink there. Hm-hmm! And not just there. Pretty pussy."

She blew again, now with her mouth closer, puffing between Britta's spread pussy lips, eliciting another "Oooh!" He scratched in Maren's crevice again, a little closer to her asshole. She chuckled and twitched her hips again. He snorted and remarked:

"It sounds like you don't want to just look at her 'pretty pussy',"

"Hm-umm! And it looks now like it doesn't just want me to."

"It doesn't," Britta stated flatly.

He snorted and slid his fingers past Maren's asshole, grasping the inside of her thigh and urging her to move over him, as he murmured:

"I just want to watch."

Maren hummed and followed his urging, getting her leg over him and then raising her other one and letting him move away from Britta. As Maren lay down, Britta rolled towards her, and with practiced experience they drew a thighs up under the other's head and their other thigh up past each other's shoulder. As he watched them curl up together, he was surprised to hear one ask softly:

"Fingers?"

"Maybe."

"Everywhere?"

"If you want, but not too soon."

They nodded and buried their faces between each other's thighs. Then Britta snorted and murmured: "sweaty pussy."

He snorted softly, also at their having clarified what they wanted to do, obviously from long experience with each other, and apparently so familiarly that they had forgotten he was there, thinking that answered the question about either of them expecting him to join in. He lay there, watching them, hearing their soft hums and moist licking, and then stood up and looked down at them, enjoying the sight of two girls enjoying themselves and each other so completely, their drawn up thighs parallel, hugging each other's hips to their face. He walked around them, avoiding casting his shadow on them, and then decided to leave them alone together, not liking the feeling of being a voyeur, since they had forgotten he was there.

As he wandered off, he had to smile wryly about his surprising feeling after having so openly enjoyed sleeping with both of them. "Sleeping?" Having sex with them every way they could for two weeks. Then it occurred to him that maybe the girls had somewhat similar feelings, their agreeing to let each other sleep - "sleep" - alone with him. He was going to sleep with Maren that night - and with Britta the next night? And then with Maren again? But during the day? Anything they wanted.

He remained in earshot of them, throwing pebbles in the lake, not near enough to hear their licking and moaning. As the minutes dragged by, he smiled at the thought that they were enjoying themselves for so long, recalling that one of them had said: "If you want to, but not too soon."

He had used up all the pebbles within reach, when he heard Britta ask in a surprised tone:

"Where is he?"

"Daddy, where are you?" Maren called.

Her voice and question suddenly reminded him of hearing her calling him when she was a little girl. Then he heard Britta admonish:

"You shouldn't say that."

"He doesn't mind any more, not much, anyway; said so Sunday morning, when I said 'Daddy'."

He smiled, nodding to himself, and called back:

"Here I am, by the lake."

A few moments later, they joined him. He gestured for them to sit down next to him, then snorting and asking:

"Did my little girls have fun playing with each other?"

They nodded and smiled a little sheepishly as they sat down on either side of them. He put his arms around them. They nodded again and one after the other agreed:

"We did."

"It looked like it."

"Why did you go away?"

"I felt kind of funny, just watching you, nice as it looked to see you like that, but if you didn't need me, it felt funny to be watching you."

"Hmm? I guess so. We did sort of forget about you," Maren replied.

"Um-hmm, I did. I felt a little like that before, why I tried to help make it good for Maren."

"You did, thank you."

"Then it occurred to me that maybe you had a little similar feelings with your deciding that we all didn't have to sleep together."

"Hmm? Maybe, ... yes, maybe something like that."

"Um-hmm, yes."

"But we can do anything you want; it is also special sleeping together, special in a different way."

"Um-hmm."

"Um-hmm, ... especially with you."

"And with both of you."

He held them closer, and they each put an arm around his waist. They sat like that in silence for a minute or two. Finally he asked: "Swim?" They nodded, and Maren remarked:

"We need to wash, our faces; Britta's was all over mine."

"Not just yours; you were just as wet, ... and not just our faces and pussies."

As they stood up, he snorted and said:

"Fingers. When you talked about that, I knew I could just watch, ... or not watch."

The girls nodded with slight smirks and watched him pull down his shorts. Britta snorted and reached out and moved his cock, murmuring:

"Hallo. Nice to see you again. Hm-hmm! Thank you for yesterday evening."

They all snorted and chuckled at her use of the standard Norwegian expression for greeting someone one had been with the night before, most often when they had just enjoyed each other's company for a drink or dinner. He snorted again and replied with the standard response:

"Thanks, and the same to you."

They chuckled and went in the water. The girls smirked at him, as they made a demonstration of washing their fingers, and then each other's face, and then their own pussies - and assholes. He chuckled and suggested that maybe the many nudes of girls bathing by the Swedish painter Anders Zorn could have been inspired by the girls' washing after doing something similar. Maren grinned and replied:

"I hope so, ... maybe with him?"

They all chuckled, agreeing that they had heard that artists often used their wives or girlfriends as models, chuckling again when Britta suggested that maybe the girls were first their models. They continued their cheerful speculation as they returned to their towels, Maren remarking - who knew more about paintings - that Zorn couldn't have slept with all of his models. Then she snorted and added:

"But I have with mine. Got to finish that sketch."

"If you want to," her father agreed, then adding:

"But first you have to finish the one of the chopping block."

"Hmm, I guess so, when the sun gets around there again - the shadows. What are you going to do?"

"Anything Britta wants to."

He smiled at her. She returned his smile and replied:

"Anything you want to, ... but it was nice yesterday, not really doing anything."

"Um-hmm. Just wait and see."

"You can do anything you both want; ... after what we all did this morning."

"Just wait and see. I want lunch now."

The girls agreed, and they returned to the cabin and were soon eating - with the appetite of persons who had enjoyed good sex with each other in the sun. With full stomachs, they cleaned up, and Maren got her unfinished sketch, remarking that she still had to wait for the sun to move around, then repeating her offer:

"But you two can do anything you want."

Britta looked at him and murmured:

"I want to take a nap, ... with you."

"Good idea. Where?"

"You can use the bed, if you want," Maren suggested, adding:

"I'm going to be outside."

Britta gave her an appreciative smile for her suggestion, but replied softly:

"No, just really a nap, out in the sun, but ... , well, ... I want to sleep with your cock in my mouth, ... nothing more."

"Hmm! If you want to, if we can, ... just sleep?"

"I've been thinking it would be nice, not doing anything, just being like that."

"It would be. If you want. Need something to cover me."

"Um-hmm, a hand towel. I can put it in place when you've lain down."

"You have been thinking about it. If you want."

"Sounds nice, even if you don't just sleep," Maren remarked cheerfully, adding:

"And if you don't, maybe even nicer."

"You can sleep with him tonight."

"Hmm, also nice, thank you."