Samantha's Soothing Hands

Hank snapped awake in a second, and there was Samantha standing in front of him. He was still not sober, but he had his wits about him. He was disappointed that she woke him. Hank had been in the middle of a dream where he was fooling around with his ex-wife.

"Dad, you've got to wake up. You need some food in you and I need to take care of that dressing."

"Okay. Okay. I guess I must have passed out."

"Mixing pills and booze will do that," she replied, trying to not pass judgment. Instead she focused on the task at hand—anything to avoiding thinking about what had just happened. "I'm going to get you something to eat, and then we'll do the bandage."

"I'm not really hungry, hon. My hand is killing me."

"Is it time for another pill?"

"It must be." Hank had taken the last one sometime in the afternoon and it was dark now.

"Okay. Just be careful with the drinking. I'm going to go make you some soup. You've got to get something down. And I'll bring you some water for your pills."

Hank didn't understand it, but he caught himself staring at Samantha's round ass in that little skirt. She shook his head. He was anything but clear. Still, his hand hurt, so he took another pill. Samantha was not back with the water, so he washed it down with a gulp of whiskey. Another little drink couldn't do any harm, he thought.

Samantha sat patiently while her father ate the soup. He insisted on washing it down with a beer, and Samantha gave in, despite her objections. It just wasn't worth the fight. And her dad was kind of goofy when he was like this, which was funny to see. She decided it was okay, as long as he didn't mistake her for her mother again. The consequences of that mistake seemed to be getting worse. For the moment, he acted like he knew the difference, but she caught his eyes lingering on her chest more than once, making her doubt his clarity. At least, she hoped he was confused. Samantha did not want to consider that her dad was just staring at her tits.

The food helped keep Hank clear-headed while Samantha changed his dressing afterward. She was great, and was gentle as possible, but even with the pills the pain was searing. He was relieved when she finished and took the medical supplies away. He rewarded himself with another long pull on the whiskey while Samantha was out of the room, and then laid his head back while the warmth spread through him.

When Samantha returned, she found her father groggy and knew he'd hit the bottle again. She had only been gone long enough to put the bandages away and change into a t-shirt and shorts. She cursed softly. Samantha had to get Hank washed and in bed, and the more he was out of it, the more difficult it was going to be. She shook his shoulder and she looked up at her. He still seemed to know who she was, which was an improvement on before.

"Dad, we've got to get you cleaned up," she said.

"I can take care of it, Sam. Just let me relax here for a while."

"If I leave you here you're going to sleep here. And trust me, you need to get cleaned up." Samantha avoided mentioning why he needed to be cleaned up. "C'mon, Dad. Let's get moving."

Samantha pulled on Hank's arm and he reluctantly rose, but was unsteady on his feet. It was good she was a strong girl, because she had to support him as they made their way to the bathroom. She leaned him against sink and squeezed past to turn on the water. Hank was going to have to go in the tub. Even if he could stand, he was not going to keep his hand out of the water on his own. Samantha was going to have to help him more than she was comfortable with, given the circumstances, but she would do it for her father.

The bathroom was small, and Samantha couldn't squeeze past her father without rubbing against him. When her butt dragged over his crotch, she felt her dad was at least semi-hard. She involuntarily paused when she felt him—not just out of shock, but also because her body just naturally reacted to the feeling of a large cock pressing into her. She moved past and forced herself not to think about it. Even if the incidental contact did do something to Hank, it was probably as involuntary for him as her reaction to it. Hank was not in his right mind.

"Okay, Dad. You need to get undressed. Can you take care of that yourself?"

"Yeah, yeah. I can take it from here. I'm fine," he insisted. His words were slightly slurred.

It wasn't just pride that made Hank want to dismiss his daughter. He was well aware of the way his cock twitched when his little girl rubbed her nice, round ass against him. He could not have been more embarrassed and did not want her to see it. These weird feelings he was having around his daughter had to be down to the pills. He would have thrown them out if the pain in his hand weren't so bad. Hank let go of the sink to pull off his pants and would have fallen over is Samantha hadn't caught him.

"Whoa, Daddy, be careful!" she said. He fell right into her, and she tried to avoid full body contact, even though he was in her arms.

"I'm okay. Really, I'm good," Hank said, straightening up and leaning against the sink.

He turned away from Samantha. Having her big tits crushed against him had a definite effect that he did not want her to see. He flexed his hand, and the flash of pain distracted him enough that his erection went down. It also made his head swim. Everything became cloudy, and he was confused again. He had trouble remembering why he was in the bathroom, and why he wasn't alone.

"Here, Daddy, you have to let me help you." Samantha grabbed him.

"I can take care of myself. I always have." He tried pushing her away with his good hand, but his struggle was feeble.

"Just stop being a pain in the ass so we can get this done."

Samantha was surprised that her stern words took the fight out of him. Her dad wasn't usually so easy. She held him against her shoulder and tugged on his sweatpants. She yanked his boxers down too, and was surprised that her father wasn't hard. Samantha was absolutely relived, but it was her disappointment that shamed her. She was very careful not to touch his penis when she helped him into the hot water.

"Okay, Daddy. We'll get you cleaned up and get you out of here. Just keep your hand here on the side. You can't get it wet."

"Okay, honey," he said, laying his head back against the wall and closing his eyes.

Samantha took a washcloth and wetted her father's body. At first, she rushed, wanting to get this over with before something untoward happened, but she realized it might be too rough. She slowed down and took her time, slowly rubbing the washcloth all over his chest and arms until he was wet. She took the bar of soap, slicked up her hands, and lathered him.

"Mmm, that's really nice," Hank sighed.

"I'm glad. Just relax and I'll take care of you."

Hank really was in great shape, and the more she touched him, the harder it became to ignore. Half the guys who hit on her at the bar had already started letting themselves go in their 20s, and here was her dad, twice their age, still fit and muscular. She realized that her dad was the archetype of the man she was most attracted to, and it was difficult to distract herself from the feelings growing inside her as she touched him. She had been considering her father's inappropriate feelings the problem, but Samantha had to face that was she was experiencing some inappropriate feelings of her own. She squeezed her thighs together and tried to ignore the growing heat between her legs. She quickly finished lathering Hank and took the washcloth to rinse him.

"It's been too long since we've been in the bath," Hank murmured.

It seemed that Hank was confusing her with her mother again. Samantha was on the side with his good hand, and he used it to rub her back. She was so on edge that she shouted and jumped, splashing water everywhere. Hank's hand stayed dry, but the warm water splashed back on her, soaking her t-shirt. Her white t-shirt became transparent and clung to her breasts. Her black bra was plain and her tits looked huge. Samantha didn't know what to do, so she just pretended it was not happening.

The commotion made Hank's eyes snap open, and while he had been drifting, it made him focus again. He was well-aware it was daughter bathing him, but that didn't help when he saw her amazing tits through that soaked t-shirt. He couldn't look away. Hank was embarrassed, so he just kept pretending to be foggy-headed, hoping his daughter would just dismiss his behavior. God, Samantha had great tits. Even though she was his daughter, all he could think of was getting his hands on them. It was lucky one of his hands was out of commission. He slipped his good hand around to her back again, and this time she didn't jump. It was like a silent agreement had been made that they would both pretend nothing was happening.

Something was happening. As Samantha cleaned her father, she couldn't miss his thickening cock rising up from the murky, soapy water. She didn't quite believe her eyes. Her dad was so thick, so big. She tried to look everywhere else, but she was drawn back to him stiff manhood. How had her mother left that, she wondered.

Samantha would have left it at that, but Hank was dirty down there from when he'd jerked off and passed out. She could not skip that, but she was deathly afraid to touch him there, and she was as worried about her own reaction as she was his.

"We're almost done here, Dad. I'll be as quick as I can."

Hank was ashamed, but he wanted the bath to continue. It had been so long since a woman had taken care of him like this. He had no idea how much he'd missed it. Yes, it was sexual, but it was also just so relaxing to be handled like that. It became completely sexual when Samantha touched his cock. He was shocked. Why did she feel the need to clean him there? He did not remember jerking off earlier, so it seemed that Samantha was just touching him because she wanted to. Did his daughter harbor some unspoken desire? Even stoned, Hank knew he had to stop this, but her hand wrapping around his cock was so fantastic that just wasn't going to happen.

As soon as she touched her dad's cock, Samantha froze. She was supposed to get this over with quickly, but it was like that hot shaft was welded to her hand. She couldn't let it go. Her fingers barely closed around it, and she felt it pulse and grow when she touched it. Her head was spinning. The throbbing in her pussy was distracting. She couldn't think of anything but all the fun she could have with such a big, beautiful cock. She added her other hand, fully grasping him. He groaned. Samantha tried to forget who it was attached to, but that was impossible. She glanced at her father's face. His eyes were closed again and he looked to be in pure bliss. He must have thought she was her mother again. He was caressing her back, but his hand was gradually moving down toward her ass. She couldn't stop him because her hands were full of cock. She didn't know what to do.

"Baby..." Hank breathed, eyes closed. He really was trying to imagine it was his ex there with him, but he was too aware that it was his sweet daughter.

Samantha's hands seemed to have a mind of their own. She started stroking her father. He grew harder and larger. She leaned closer for a better look. The flare of the thick head was perfect, and she knew how smooth it would feel in her mouth. Samantha had always loved the ease with which she could get boyfriends off with her mouth. It was fun to make them lose control. Would her dad be so easy? She forced that thought from her mind. He started moaning from her touch. Please let him think I'm Mom, she thought. Samantha reached for the soap, hoping to keep up the pretense she was just cleaning him.

"Oh, shit," Hank gasp, shaking as her soap-slick hands slid up and down his shaft. She had a nice, tight grip and this was turning into one of the best hand jobs he'd ever had. His little girl was jerking him off and it was so wrong, but he was so horny. He felt like he had to get off.

Samantha let him go and Hank moaned in disappointment. His cock wavered in the air and pulsed. He was hard as a rock and she was scared to touch him again. She was scared about how she would feel if she touched him. For the first time, Samantha was afraid she might lose control. But she felt so guilty. She knew how bad it was to get a guy that hard and leave them with blue balls. She couldn't leave her dad that way. She had a fateful decision.

"Daddy, I'm almost done. Are you okay?"

"Yes, baby. You're doing so good."

"Do you want me to finish now?"

"Please."

They both knew they were not discussing the bath. Hank was going to keep playing the role of the confused patient, even though he'd never been more clearheaded. His sexy daughter touching cock gave him laser focus. His balls were throbbing so hard they hurt. He had to get off, and he wanted nothing more than for his daughter to do the job.

Samantha stared at that cock, looked at her dad's face—his eyes were still closed—and looked at that cock again. She wanted it—it was as simple as that. She wanted to feel her dad's cock. And he wanted her to touch it. That had become clear. She couldn't use the words, but he knew what she was asking, and he wanted her to do it. She felt like his current condition was her fault, so Samantha would take care of her dad, and that would be that. Was a hand job really that bad?

Samantha went into full rationalization mode. A hand job wasn't sex. She'd jerked a lot of guys off over the years and never considered it sex. It wasn't even close. She didn't always think of giving a blowjob as such a big deal, so a hand job was barely fooling around. It certainly was not incest. Her dad wouldn't be doing anything to her. Darkly, she thought, I'll get myself off later, and she knew what she would be thinking about.

Hank's eyes popped up when she touched his prick again. Her hand was still soapy and slick, and it easily glided up and down his shaft. He couldn't help shaking. He couldn't stop the moans. Having a beautiful young woman get him off was just too good—even if it was his own daughter. Her even felt a measure of pride that his little girl new what she was doing. Samantha reached into the water and caressed his balls. She worked him like a pro, staring at his cock like it was hypnotizing her. Hank was glad she was so focused, because she didn't notice him staring at her tits again. He loved the way they jiggled when she moved her hand. The only thing that would have made it more perfect was if she was topless.

Samantha felt her dad touching her tits, but she still didn't look up from his cock. Part of it was that she was falling in love with that piece of meat, but she also didn't want to see the look on his face as she got him off. She would have thought that her jerking him off was enough, but he couldn't keep his hand to himself. Hank massaged her tits, and when he found her hard nipples he gave them little pinches that sent shocks of pleasure right to her cunt. She tried to bite back her moans. She didn't want her dad knowing she was just as turned on as he was. She tried to ignore wanting both his hands to be free to touch her. She stroked her dad faster. She had to get this over with.

Samantha leaned over his cock and her fiery hair hung forward and touched the water. She licked her lips and back away. She was not going to kiss him there. This was just going to be a hand job. It had to be.

Hank was on the fence. He desperately wished his daughter would lean in and suck his cock, but he knew that would be too far. He did not rationalize that this was okay, but would he ever be able to look his daughter in the eye again if she blew him? Luckily, there would be no chance for that. She was so good with her hands that she was getting him off quickly. He could feel the cum bubbling in his balls already. He wanted to slow down to enjoy this more, but that was impossible. His beautiful, busty daughter was just too sexy.

Samantha's mind was so filled with dirty thoughts about her father that she was not prepared when he came. The thick seed came shooting out and hit her right in the face. It splashed her cheek, then her lips and dripped from her chin. She finally pointed him downward, but he was finished anyway. Hank's cock went down, but he still stayed thick in her hand. She kept stroking it. Samantha couldn't let it go. And then she did the unthinkable. She couldn't help herself. Samantha flicked her tongue out and licked her father's cum from her lips and chin. It was so incredibly wrong, and it almost made her climax on the spot.

Hank stared at his cock when he came. He watched his daughter hand stroking him, and he watched his load splatter onto her. It was so hot, it didn't seem real. And then she licked his cum from her lips. Oh my god, he thought. His daughter was the sexiest woman on the planet. One thought burn in his mind, and he didn't care how wrong it was. He could hate himself later. Hank thought, I have to fuck her. I have to fuck my daughter.

Samantha looked away and wiped away the rest of her dad's come. He didn't want him to see her so dirty. She rinsed her hand and forced a chipper note into her voice. "I think we're all done, Daddy."

"Uh, yeah," was all Hank could say. What could he say? They were pretending this wasn't happening, right?

Hank watched her grab a towel and then she helped him to his feet. She dried him and spent as little time as possible on his prick, but it was still enough to make him chub up again. He was actually proud how often he was getting hard for a man his age. Was his daughter impressed?

Samantha was impressed alright. It seemed like her dad could go all night. But she ignored it. If she didn't, something very bad would happen. Instead, she got him right into his bedroom and tucked him into bed. She knew he was staring at her tits, hanging over him, as she did it. Her father's illicit gaze just made her pussy gush. Now all she could do was think dirty thoughts about her father.

"Get some sleep, Daddy," she said.

"Goodnight, darling. Thank you for taking such good care of me. You're such a good daughter."

"It's my pleasure," she admitted, immediately regretting it when she saw the look on his face.

Hank saw her moving to kiss his forehead, but he reached out with his good hand and guided her lips to his. It was impulsive and he was relieved when she didn't jerk away. It was a soft, loving, passionate kiss. That was no father daughter kiss. He felt her melting into it, but she pulled back from him before losing control completely. Samantha looked dazed when she turned to go.

Hank laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't sort his feelings. He knew the difference between right and wrong—and his feelings were so wrong. No father should ever have these feelings for his daughter. It was about the wrongest thing a father could feel. And yet, he couldn't stop feeling them. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Hank still felt his daughter's hand wrapped around his cock, still felt her jerking him off. It was too hot, no amount of guilt would change that. He told himself he had to think about something else—anything else. He had to be strong. He had to fight the urges that were consuming him. If the pain pills made him this weak, he would have to stop taking them. He would have to find the strength to resist this. And then he heard Samantha from the other room.

Over the years, Hank had heard his daughter with boyfriends, despite her efforts to stay quiet. Back then, he reacted as a father should. He pretended it wasn't happening and turned up the volume on the television. He just assumed she did the same thing when he had a woman there. Families in smaller houses just had to accept certain things. But when he heard Samantha moaning from the other room tonight, there was no distracting him. It forced every dirty thought he was trying to avoid front and center in his brain.