Total Woman Daughters Ch. 04

Father Daughter Weekend

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Jocelyn, Lyndsey and Keiko were different. Different heritages, different shapes, different sizes, different college majors. But they were also similar. They were all seniors. They liked wearing their hair long. They liked math and numbers although they applied them differently in their individual career studies. And they looked forward to graduation and their leap into the world of business and its celebrated assortment of elite alpha males.

Not that they were totally unfamiliar with powerful men. The staff coach tutors had taught them well through the years. During junior and senior years, they had hosted a medley from the multitude of guest coach tutors that were assigned to enhance their poise. They had absorbed all the generous outpourings offered by those pillars of wisdom.

The trio had coalesced into a clique of sorts. Whenever a scenario dictated group variety, the Oceanic brunette, Nordic blonde and Dutch redhead were called upon to fulfill the motley request. The men might number one, two, three or more but the girls shared the load equally no matter what. The requests multiplied as word of the sensual tag team spread through the grapevine. Some were planned roster assignments; others were just a guest coach tutor's wish to confirm the rumors. No man complained about an encounter afterwards. The co-eds became fast friends and were fastidiously planning their ultimate poise evaluation assessment: Father-Daughter Weekend.

It was a capstone event. Their fathers had witnessed their matriculation at the freshman welcoming soiree where they had pledged to do their best to learn the beauty, intelligence and poise curriculum. Now almost four years later, their Daddies could verify the benefits of their substantial financial investment. It would also justify their many long hours of guest coach tutor service to the Total Woman Academy.

The three daughters connived the arrangements. It would be a three way round robin of pairings. Fate, the random roster and a few of the guest coach tutor encounters had gotten each co-ed intimately familiar with the two others' fathers. A sharing of particulars and details had each of the three well versed in the penchants of each man.

The eagerly anticipated Friday afternoon finally arrived and the trio of daughters waited anxiously at the poolside umbrella table for their trio of parents to appear. The long wait ended when the three casually dressed men exited the main building and, pausing briefly to scan the nubile flesh speckling the landscape. They feigned indifference as they ambled a slow beeline to the familiar group of young ladies in waiting. The bikini clad girls flashed welcoming smiles as they saw their weekend mates approach.

James hugged his daughter Jocelyn and they exchanged chaste cheek buzzes. Luke and Kurt echoed the move with their offspring: Lyndsey and Keiko. They sat around the table, nibbling on tapas and engaging in small talk.

The co-eds shared their pride at achieving graduation and thanked their parents for their support. Then they eyed each other with sly grins. Lyndsey cued the scene.

"It's gotten so warm this month. I'm feeling hot."

Together, the girls loosed their bikinis and laid the bright colored tops on the table. Then they waited.

James plucked curiously at the orange one. Keiko moved seductively and plopped her orange-bottomed ass in James's lap. Learning quickly, Luke grabbed Jocelyn's red one and Kurt was left with Lyndsey's yellow cups. The girls sidled into their laps and the men caught the mood, cupping and copping a feel of the color corresponding tits as they took playful kisses. The co-eds showed zero reluctance. The men took up their first weekend Daddy duties.

Brawny James cradled the petite little Keiko in his arms as he carried her back to his guest coach tutor suite. Kurt led Lyndsey hand-in-hand back to his suite. Luke pulled Jocelyn to the hot tub in the secluded corner of the pool area. The weekend was off to a rousing start.

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In the morning, the pool area double-functioned as the guest brunch space. Couples sporadically emerged in various states of dress and energy from their overnight toils. Some senior co-eds still wore bikini thongs; others just a translucent beach cover-up. The men had universally chosen terry cloth waist wraps. Easier to jettison when the moment required.

The mingling was subdued at first. Selected junior co-eds, heeled, mini-skirted and topless, of course, functioned as waitresses and bar tenders. There were no assigned matchups for the day and, with the rush of pent-up passions temporarily assuaged, a more relaxed atmosphere prevailed. The day was open for rest, relaxation, and recreation at their whims.

The gentlemen and senior co-eds renewed or initiated new acquaintances. As the mood strengthened, an amorous pair might cuddle together apart from the others. Any sign of modesty disappeared.

Soon the whole pool area was a sexual playground. The co-eds moved about, helping men mustering refraction to get ready for more. He might call one over, coaxing her to use her hands or mouth to get him restarted. He might fuck her, or another that had caught his eye while the first was rebuilding his verve. At any one time, there was always at least one co-ed giving a hand-job, a blowjob, a tit-job or getting fucked missionary or doggy. Moans, groans and little cries of elation filled the air. Couples peaked, rested, swapped partners and took up the game again.

The pace slowed as the sunshine hued into a sunset. The evening's festivities necessitated a cleanup and preening by all. The playmates sadly parted, temporarily they hoped, to their individual resident quarters. The debris of towels, loin cloths, and discarded bikinis was left for the juniors to tidy up.

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They assembled again after dinner in the house theater. The evening banquet had been waitressed by semi-dressed juniors who were re-purposed as cocktail attendants at this post-dinner festivity about to begin. The fathers wore formal tuxedoes; their senior co-ed daughters were dressed in elegant fashions: revealing dresses, bold makeup, fancy hairdos, glittering jewelry and sensuous perfumes. The junior co-ed attendants were even more scantily clad, adding spice to the sexy ambiance.

The audience floor held an array of oversized reclining loungers. Each was occupied by a father and his cuddling daughter. They lay at ease, sharing thoughts as the stage was set for the coming audience participation show.

"Did you find the day enjoyable, Daddy?" asked Lyndsey. Her fingers drew lazy lines on his chest, tracing the dress shirt pleats from bowtie to belt buckle and back again. He pecked her cheek before replying.

"Immensely, my dear."

She squiggled a pert all body spasm as his thumb rubbed lazy circles on her stretched top, circumnavigating her sensitized areola underneath.

She peered around to see her friends enjoying similar quality time with their Daddies. The low house lights dimmed to dark and Ms. Smith, the TWA Housemother, took center stage in the glow of an overhead spotlight.

"Welcome, Fathers and Daughters to the TWA Father Daughter Weekend. Our senior students have been very busy this semester planning and practicing for our most popular annual family event. That said, let's not delay any longer and get on with the Saturday Night Assisted Striptease Raffle!"

There was brisk applause aplenty but it died quickly so that the legendary acts could begin. Ms. Smith mixed each of the two bins containing the names of the co-eds and their fathers. She plucked a female name and read out 'Jocelyn'.

Jocelyn gave a triumphant clap and a parting smooch to her father and then scurried to ascend the stage. She wore a strap back, body hugging blue knit mini-dress. Her elegant display captured every man's attention with the hope that she would pick his name. Her hand plunged into the Daddy-names bin and retrieved a father's name; she handed it to Ms. Smith who read out 'Kurt'. Kurt gave a celebratory clap and kissed his sweet Keiko adieu. He bounded to the stage to claim his prize.

Ms. Smith and Jocelyn motioned for him to slow down his hurry; he gained his composure as he skidded to a stop, joining them at center stage. Ms. Smith stood aside as Jocelyn faced stage front. Kurt stood behind her and, after a bit of searching, found the dress catches. His fingers did the honors and loosened the fasteners. She wiggled the dress looser and let him assist its fall down her body.

Her breasts were near perfect orbs, freckled like her face and arms, capped with rosy crinkled nipples. Their glossed tone matched her lipstick. She smirked when she overheard the whispered compliments from the watching fathers to their daughter cuddle-mates.

"Wow... nice tits, huh... utterly suck-able, don't you think, honey... lucky dude up there."

As the low noise quieted down, Jocelyn leaned back and twisted her neck. Kurt took the proffered open mouth kiss as his hands reached around to cup her boobs. His fingers played with her nipples as her tongue played with his mouth. The background comments rose up again, even bawdier. But the stage performers couldn't wait for them to die down this time. She resumed her statuesque stance for the audience, hands at sides and high heels pressed together.

She felt rather than saw his hands sweep down her sides and push the clogged dress lower, over her hips, before gravity weighed it to the floor. Its absence revealed her hip-hugging teal panties. She kicked aside the pooled dress; her hip wiggles drew attention to the bright color molding her camel-toed pussy. One more detail to go and then she would lead Kurt to his suite for their fate-driven rendezvous.

Kurt's thumbs hooked the waistband of her panties. He playfully yanked it up, forcing a wedgie and a deeper camel-toe all in one. Briefly startled but playing along, she placed her hands on her hips, rocked them twice and looked back at him, smirking again, this time at his boyish humor. He grinned right back and squatted, dragging down the last garment she wore. She braced a hand back on his shoulder as she pranced out of the teal silk that was hobbling her ankles.

Kurt rose, they joined hands and exited stage left. It was a short trek to his guest coach tutor suite and a night of looming ecstasy and rapture.

Having watched Kurt strip his redheaded daughter and lead her off to what he assumed would be a long vigorous fuck-fest, the temporarily unpaired James was next in line. He took the stage and selected a co-ed's name from the bin. Ms. Smith called out 'Lyndsey'. The blonde extracted her lithe body from her daddy's petting hands, smooched goodbye and pranced on stage.

Lyndsey had chosen a little black cocktail dress, a smooth knit with a zipper running from neck to hem down the back. An easy strip-off for her raffle winner. She stepped to James, took both his hands and tiptoed higher to plant a girlish peck on his puckered lips.

She held his hands as she executed a swing dance pirouette ending with his arms crossing her body as she stopped. There were a few applauds at her fun-loving spirit and she smiled brightly at the mannerly salute. Releasing his hands, she stood in beauty pageant pose, one knee cocked forward on the toe of her heel and her enduring smile fixed at maximum volume.

James impatiently took the zipper tab and raced it down to the hem. The dress folded forward over Lyndsey's shoulders and fluttered to the floor. At first, the watching men gasped in delight, thinking she was nude but she was wearing flesh toned lingerie: a smooth Wonderbra and nylon panties. A few chuckles broke the silence.

James was in a hurry; he resented this onstage holdup. He would rather be filling in his time by filling in her cunt with his cock. This cavorting was delaying the action. Rather than unfastening the bra, he gripped the body band in front and yanked upward. Lyndsey was at first startled but threw her arms up and cooperated as he swept it over her head. Her large boobs popped up and settled wide on her chest. Her makeup was color coordinated between her face and broad nipples. She fluffed her disheveled hair back into a reasonable state. A few comments were sympathetic to her plight.

"Hey, man, take it easy... a little rough, don't you think... save it for later when you have her alone... be a gentleman, why don't 'cha..."

Lyndsey shook her smiling head 'no' at the concerned calls; she was hoping for some rough stuff. James was holding the wadded bra in his fist; he was staring at the audience, annoyed by his colleagues' rebukes. Lyndsey sensed his anger and also wanted to get to their room so she could feel the power of his raw emotions. She took some initiative and stripped down her silky undies by herself. She offered them to James, holding them out on a suspending finger. He angrily hurled the bra across the stage and snatched at the panties. He missed as she pulled them back and danced away.

He took chase and they cavorted briefly about the small stage until he finally snagged her arm. He wrapped her up and tackled her to the deck. More murmurs of concern drifted from the audience.

Holding her down, he motioned to Ms. Smith who scurried to the tumbled pair. James whispered his request. Ms. Smith hurried off stage and returned with a basket of black leather bands and silver buckles. James held the squirming Lyndsey by each limb as Ms. Smith buckled on its cuff or anklet. A leather collar was last. James hauled the restraint ready Lyndsey to her feet.

Hoisting her shoes-only nakedness with his arm circling her waist, he carried her underarm off-stage, her legs theatrically flailing behind him. He marched down the hallway towards his guest coach tutor suite. Lyndsey heard the dwindling audience entreaties for gentleman-like chivalry as James strode to his lair. She wiggled a little, keeping up the pretense of struggle. She wanted to keep an edge on his anger.

Lyndsey's father Luke was a rather concerned by the preceding scene; however, he trusted TWA to keep things edgy but safe. Now, it was his turn. He walked pensively on stage and drew a name. Ms. Smith took on a puzzled look and then read the name aloud: 'Keiko'. It was highly unusual that a three-way circle would close in a truly random raffle. She suspected some kind of collusion but, for now, the show must go on. She would cross-examine the co-ed trio later.

Keiko wore a shiny silver crop top and skirt set. Her tummy was exposed and the outfit evoked her hula heritage. The skirt was really countless delicate chains suspended from a wide waist band. When she walked, the fine falls sashayed on her hips, swinging aside to create daringly high leg flashes. It resembled a metallic hula skirt.

The crop top had a more sequined texture. It hugged her round chest curves and even with her slow movements so far, her tits bounced to her stride.

She walked to Luke and gave him a waist hug as she smiled up at his tall face. She was too short even on tiptoe to kiss him at his full height. Luke pecked a fond welcome on the top of her head. Later in his suite, prone and seated positions would negate the height difference.

Faint drum rolls swelled from the house music system. Keiko tested the beat with a few head nods and toe taps. Her hips jostled and, finding the rhythm, she broke into her traditional island dance. Luke took a step back to give her wild gyrations more room and to get a better view.

The view was excellent. Keiko was a cacophony of movement. Her breasts had moved noticeably inside their encasement when she walked. They shuddered dynamically on her chest when she danced. Her hip pops and ass wiggles showcased the warm cock cuddle awaiting the fortunate man selected to be her fuck-mate. Luke was ready and able as that fortunate man tonight. It was the island way of seducing the male and Luke was completely willing to be that seduced male at the moment.

Keiko danced in rotation, giving every man present a full circle view of her athletic body in motion. Luke was close enough to spy between the wavering gaps in the chains as they swayed and jumped. She wore no panties and her plump pussy lips were nestled seductively between well-toned thighs. A sheen of perspiration dotted her forehead and chest. She was winding up for the show finale. Her arms had been snaking level at her sides, occasionally sweeping in to draw attention to her strapped-in boobs. She reached back, unfastened her top and unstrapped them, tossing her top aside.

Freed from their fetters, her tits emulated her hips, popping and jumping to the beat. Luke wondered how this much body motion could happen all at once. Another rotation to show everyone her developed talent and then the drums petered out and so did Keiko's dance. She ended facing forward.

A brief dead silence erupted into boisterous applause. She smiled and bowed, giving her dangling tits a saucy shimmy for the enthusiastic male audience. Her pose let the chains slide aside and she exposed her pert little ass to Luke's admiring view. It was enough for him and he lifted her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, spanking her ass playfully as he hauled her off to his guest coach tutor suite.

-----

Jocelyn and Kurt lay in bed, TV glowing, as they lolled through the post-orgasmic warmth of a fine first fuck. They petted with gentle genital fingering. Jocelyn lay in the crook of his near arm, her auburn hair bunched on his shoulder, his hand threaded beneath her far arm, rhythmically fondling her wonderful boob.

Kurt was surfing through the porn selections. He stopped at a line titled 'Jocelyn and Jackie'.

"What a coincidence" he glibly muttered.

Jocelyn stiffened at his interest. He noted her twitch and, intrigued, picked the video.

The scene opened with an empty white-sheeted bed. A slender naked girl walked in and mounted the mattress. The back view of a nude redhead filled the lens and her pert behind receded away to join the first co-ed. The pair smooched affectionately and settled in next to each other. With small kisses planted on their partner's available skin, they slowly repositioned into a comfortable 69 position, wrapping their thighs around the other's ears in an inverted sidesaddle.

The redhead figure was obviously Jocelyn and Kurt paused the film and caressing to question her.

"Is that you?'

"Yes," she murmured.

"Who's the other bitch?"

"A freshman; I was assigned as her UA."

"Neat. Did you know you were being filmed?"

"Yes..."

"Willingly?"

"I was hesitant at first. The freshman, Jackie, was a digital arts major and her coach tutor that day thought it would be great to combine her coursework and poise training into one event. I was ordered to lend a hand but my tongue proved more useful."

Kurt pushed the button and resumed watching. His hand resumed fondling her tit.

The camera was jostled from its tripod and moved toward and around the bed. Jackie's face and tongue came into view and the camera zoomed in. Her lingual digit tickled the edges of her bedmate's very pink folds. The landing strip of reddish fuzz identified Jocelyn as the owner of the pussy. The microphone picked up a background moan and Jocelyn's hips jolted away from the oral stimulus and then resettled.

"Didn't you like it?' he asked.

"I like all kinds of oral but as a junior, I was rather new to lesbian love at that time. I thought Jackie was too young but the coach tutor insisted. He got transferred after this for breaking the 'no oral until junior' rule."

The camera moved around to find Jocelyn's freckled face posed close to Jackie's pussy. Her tongue fluttered on the other co-ed's pussy lips, situated below Jackie's similar but black haired landing strip. Jocelyn looked at the camera as she swiped her tongue on her lips and tasted her mate's vaginal musk.