Julie sees that her father needs someone else.
She let his strength lift her to her feet, effortlessly.
He rubbed the fluffy towel from her damp hair down to her polished toes. And then he scooped her off her feet and carried her naked from the ensuite to the bedroom, her legs dangling, head nodding back.
They had made delicious love an hour earlier, and he had eased Linda into the steaming bath, heading to the kitchen to prepare their dinner. But he knew her pleasure was not yet complete, and he wanted -- no, he needed -- to see that it was.
He was in soft, faded jeans and an unbuttoned white shirt as he slid up onto the bed, leaning into the pillows stacked against the headboard. She snuggled tight between his open legs, her back against the hair of his chest, and felt his strong hands move to her temples, rubbing in small, firm circles.
Linda exhaled a slow, deep sigh, fully relaxed and content. Her arms lay heavily at her sides; her head slumped back into his shoulder, falling gently to the right, her strong pulse beating steadily in her neck. He noticed the soft throbbing, and his mouth parted, his lightly bared teeth instinctively moving to this delicate skin. Was that her moan, or his?
Tenderly, he massaged just beneath her collarbones. But his gaze was fixed a little below, on Linda's soft mounds of pink-crested flesh that rose and fell in a gentle rhythm. Her hands moved absently, sliding over the bones of her hips, the left crossing the small mole that he often stopped to kiss as he loved her body with his lips.
Now it was his breath that grew short, as he watched her fingers move slowly to meet in the small patch of auburn hair that formed a carefully shaped V just above the lips of her fragrant pussy. How he loved to watch Linda stroke and comb this beautiful hair; how he loved to press his face into it, inhaling her as though it were the final breath he'd take on this earth.
He inched farther down, massaging her breasts with great care, filling his hands, easing his thumbs and forefingers together to squeeze her small areolae, her hardening nipples standing delightfully proud. Aroused, he rolled them between his fingers, her erect, pink buds responsive to his caress.
And now her own hands found their destination. The soft, velvety flesh yielded to her fingers, spreading open to her touch, her own womanly perfume blending with the scent of her bath. She was wet here still.
"Oh, baby..." he moaned, his lips still pressed to her neck. His hands had moved across her stomach and to her hips, where hers were not so very long ago, tracing small circles over the bones.
He watched Linda's two fingers part her soft lips, the middle digit of her other hand moving with unfailing aim to her clit, by now swollen and eager and demanding of her massage. She eased this finger deep into her pussy, to her knuckle, then brought it back gleaming, coated in the sweet, slick juices that no massage oil could match.
"Mmmm..." It was Linda moaning now, surrendering to her own magic. Her finger rubbed up and down, then in a small, light circle around her clit, back into her pussy, then back... over and over and over, as she had done so many times before.
She was leaning back harder into his chest, his teeth digging more sharply into her skin. He too was swept away by her pleasure, his hands slipping down to feel the creamy silk of her bare ass, then back up to her hips. As she pushed into him, he ground his hips into her, his erection straining for a release from his jeans that it would not have.
His thumbs rubbed back and forth through the glorious pussy hair she trimmed with exquisite care, knowing well his fondness for it. But Linda felt only hints of his teeth and his hands now, her body and her mind taking separate paths to the same bliss. Her pace quickened, and he sensed her cataclysmic end when she gasped, her legs shaking, her hips lifting off the bed.
Linda froze but for an instant, then crumpled back down between his legs, trembling, a long, deep moan from the