Leave Me Breathless

by

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Cheating, Slut Wife, .

Desc: Sex Story: I help my Dad recover after my mom's betrayal

Hey folks, I know the past two weeks have been a murder fest, but sometimes fictitious people have to die. I promise you that there will be no fictitious deaths in this story, so those of you who can't stand it when imaginery people die are safe. I did borrow the results of the car accident from one of my favorite classic LW stories. Those of you who've been around the block a time or two will probably recognize it. Thanks as usual to Mikothebaby for editing this story despite the fact that she's very busy right now and also undergoing a family issue. Thanks also to my beautiful wife for driving me crazy playing this song over and over again until I had to write a story about it. So I included her in the story. For those of you who don't know it AlleyKat's real name is Helen. And thanks most of all to all of you who come here every week and read these things.


My name is Melinda Carson. My friends, for some reason, just call me Linda. My daddy calls me Kit and he's ... Hold on for a second, I have to do something.

"Shut the hell up Mother. If you don't stop that God damned crying right now, I'll have the ushers walk you out of here. This is a happy occasion. Didn't you notice that everyone here is smiling?" I hissed at the woman sitting only a few inches away from where I'm standing.

"But this shouldn't be happening," she whines through her tears. She looks at me for sympathy and finds none.

"Mother, everyone in town is here and having a great time. You, more than anyone else in town, are responsible for this and the party that's going to come next. So suck it up and try to enjoy it," I hiss again. Luckily for me, my voice isn't carrying very far. I just smile and wave to the two or three people who notice our exchange. Everyone else has their eyes riveted to the back of the church.

Anyway, as I was about to say, my daddy is the only person who can get away with calling me Kit. Shit, I've lost my train of thought. I have no idea of what I was about to tell you. Okay, I guess the story is over.

No, you're not getting off that easily, but since I don't remember where I was, we should probably start at the beginning.

About one year ago I was walking into my house after school. I had to decide on an outfit to wear to my school's harvest festival dance. The harvest festival was a big deal because it was the only outdoor dinner and dance we had. We live in California and our weather is moderate. We don't get the wild storms that they get during the fall along the coast and we don't get the mudslides they get near the mountains. We're lucky enough that in October and November, the temperatures are still mild enough to have an outdoor dance.

The evening air is a bit chilly, but a light jacket or wrap is sufficient. I needed just the right outfit. Although I'm not a cheerleader, I'm pretty popular, so I have to make a good impression. I don't have to worry about finding a date or impressing anyone because I'd had the same boyfriend since my sophomore year. With him being a PK, that's preacher's kid, he's pretty moral. We concentrate more on having fun than having sex. My goal, drummed into me by my mom since I was old enough to understand her, was that I should go to the altar a virgin, but have my husband wake up tired and sore the day after the wedding. I intended to do more than that. I was going to have Dean wake up scared.

Part of the reason for my popularity is my brains. I've made the national honor society every year of high school and except for my freshman year, I've had a 4.0. During my freshman year, I got a C in gym. I'd never been very athletic. That year, as usual, my dad came to my rescue. During the summer, he started me running with him every morning. When I went back to school, all of those stupid things I had to do for an A became very easy.

After we ran, Dad and I worked on the machines in his home gym. Without my knowledge, my body changed over that summer. I got a lot stronger but I also slimmed down in some key areas as well. I think it was the bench presses, but my boobs got bigger over the summer. My skinny legs and butt not only got bigger but got a better shape as well. And the changes weren't only cosmetic. I was much stronger and much more coordinated. The first day in gym was a day that I dreaded. It was the day when they did the assessments. The assessments were designed to see where you placed on a national scale for fitness. It was based on how many pushups, sit-ups and chin ups you could do. There was also a rope climb and finally the mile run. It usually took our first week of school to get everyone through the assessment.

My freshman year, I'd done terrible. And when the assessment was done again the last week of school, I needed to show significant improvement in fitness and I hadn't. So they gave me a "C."

My dad had looked at my report card and hadn't said a word. He just hugged me and told me he was proud of me. I thought that he'd have been a bit upset but he clearly wasn't.

When we started running together, he'd just proposed it as a fun way for us to spend more time together. And being a daddy's girl, I was all for it. He was very subtle. We slowly increased our distance and the length of our runs. We talked as we ran and we laughed and joked. I could tell my daddy anything.

When he started talking about us going on vacation at the end of a run one day, I followed him into the gym, and it just seemed natural to start doing curls with him. In fact, it took me a while to realize that he'd planned it. There was already a dumb bell with very light weights on it next to his heavier one. Before I knew it, I was doing a whole workout with him and we'd go out for, or just have breakfast together before we started our day. He didn't make it seem like a big deal. It's not like I was ever over weight, I was just out of shape and he gently nudged me into becoming more fit.

The first thing I noticed when I returned to school after that summer, was that there were a lot of people, both male and female, staring at me in my gym-wear.

"What the hell happened to you over the summer?" asked Becky Thatcher. Becky's been my best friend since birth and lives around the corner from me. Since both of my parent's work, as did hers, we met in daycare.

"Did you like take supermodel classes or something?" she asked. "Did you get implants?"

"Nope," I smiled.

"What the hell did you do?" she asked.

"I just hung out with my dad," I said. "I did get my hair streaked and highlighted though, maybe that's it."

The previous year I'd been able to do eight girl type pushups and twenty sit-ups. I'd nearly vomited afterward. I continued talking to Becky during my turn. I knocked out twenty five pushups and noticed that everyone was staring at me as I moved to the next station to do my sit-ups.

The gym teacher ran over to me and asked me who I was. Even Becky was staring at me.

"Linda, you did twenty five pushups," she said incredulously.

"I should have shut up while I was doing them," I said. "I probably could have done more. I wasn't really paying attention."

"Linda, you did boys pushups," she said. "Except for the jocks and some cheerleaders, no one was even close to what you did."

Before the time ran out, the teacher told me to stop doing sit-ups. "You only needed to do fifty to max out the scale," he said.

The previous year I hadn't been able to do one chin up. I had to do what they called, "the hang."

In the hang, you pull yourself up and you hang there with your chin above the bar for as long as you can. They'd had to lift me into position because I couldn't pull myself up. I was only able to hang for about two seconds.

This year, I went right after Big Mill. Millburn Drysdale, Big Mill, was the center of our football team. Big Mill weighed over two hundred pounds in high school. Because of all of that weight, it was difficult for him to pull himself up. But he was as strong as an ox and grunted out eleven chin-ups.

I jumped up on the bar and did twelve. When my feet hit the floor, a gasp went through the gym. My dad had me doing multiple sets of chin-ups with a weight belt around my waist. Our reward system got me a donut or a treat every time I beat my previous best. The second and third sets were the tough ones. I was used to doing eight chin-ups with twenty five pounds strapped to my waist. Doing only one set of twelve with no additional weight was hardly a challenge.

That was the end of the first day in gym class. Everyone was already talking about me. Boys who never paid me any attention before were buzzing around us. Becky loved the attention. We still sat at the table with the same people we always did. I already knew what I wanted to do with my life so being around smart people was a good thing. I like to think that I never changed throughout high school. But my sophomore year, the way other people saw me changed. It was still that way last year in my senior year.

As I said, I was trying to find the perfect outfit and I was home early. My English teacher was sick and they had no substitute. Since English was my last class, they let us out early. As I walked through the house, I heard the sounds of moaning coming from my parent's bedroom. I didn't think about it. I was eighteen years old. I knew what sex was although I'd never done it. I knew that it was healthy for my parents to do it and I didn't fault them for it.

I knocked on their door and told them that when they were done, I needed some help with something. My mom always gave me advice on fashion. Dad always gave me a guy's opinion on how I looked.

.... There is more of this story ...

The source of this story is Storiesonline

For the rest of this story you need to be logged in: Log In or Register for a Free account

Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Cheating / Slut Wife /