Chapter 14

The look of shock on John’s face told Michelle she guessed right. It also caused him to relax his muscles, and he started to pee again. She continued to lift his cock, making a trail of piss from her pussy to her left tit. The urine was pouring over her body and flowing into the toilet between her legs like a waterfall. Her father watched his daughter cover herself in his piss and revel in it. But it couldn’t have prepared him for what she did next.

With her eyes locked on his, she continued to raise his pissing cock toward her face. His urine covered her neck and chin, and she opened her mouth. The sound of his piss filling her oral cavity was deafening, and instinctively, he cut off his stream again. Michelle smiled at her father, closed her mouth, and swallowed. He watched her throat contract and knew what she had just done, and was surprised to feel his cock harden and twitch in her hand.

Michelle leaned forward and took her father’s cock into her mouth. Her hand dropped to her lap, and she fingered her clit while giving him a long, slow blow job as a thank you for rekindling her love of pee play.

John reached down and played with her piss-covered tits, rolling the nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He had never done anything as kinky and dirty as this and was surprised how much he ended up enjoying it.

She cupped his heavy balls in her hand and cleaned the piss off his cock with her mouth and tongue. Her head bobbed on her father’s tool, and she knew she would soon be rewarded with a mouthful of cum. Just another fluid from the same source, she thought to herself, as his cum filled her hungry mouth. His cock slipped from her lips, and he watched her throat contract again. John pulled her up from the toilet and kissed her deeply, tasting a mixture of his piss and cum on her tongue. He found himself wondering what her piss would taste like and felt his cock twitch again. He broke their kiss and looked deeply into her eyes.

“That was ... ummm ... I don’t have words...”

“Thank you, daddy. I really enjoyed it.”

“Oddly enough, I did too.”

She reached down and squeezed his growing cock. “I know, I could tell.”

“We should probably grab a shower.”

“Sounds good. Then I’ll clean this up so mom won’t freak out.”

John started the shower and tested the water until it was warm. He pulled Michelle in with him and said, “yeah, maybe we might want to leave this part out of the story we tell Mom.”

One look in the family room in the Lynch household and a calendar wouldn’t be necessary to know the month of the year. The 50-inch plasma was tuned to CBS, and John Lynch was sitting in his leather recliner decked out in his orange Derrick Coleman #44 jersey. In her usual spot on the couch was his daughter Michelle, who wore her orange Carmelo Anthony #15 jersey, complete with the NCAA National Championship patch. They were in pretty much the same positions back in 2003 when Syracuse won it all. Michelle was almost eight at the time, and that’s pretty much when her love of basketball began.

The 2019 edition of the Syracuse Orange was no threat to win another National Championship, but they were a scrappy bunch and drew the better seed in the dreaded 8- versus 9-seed game, a notorious bracket-buster.

Michelle loved watching sports with her father and suffered through countless NFL seasons, rooting with him for the Bills, or as John called them, the only true New York football team. Thankfully, their shared love of the Yankees brought them much more to cheer about than the Bills and the Orange.

Ironically, Sarah was the only one of the three to actually have attended Syracuse University, but she had little interest in televised sports. In a gesture of solidarity, while tending to the household chores, she proudly wore her navy blue sweatshirt with the big orange S on the chest. “There are my bookends,” joked Sarah Lynch as she carried the hamper into the laundry room, “how are we doing?”

“Not good,” replied John and Michelle, almost in unison. Syracuse was down by 9 with a little more than a minute left in the game.

Sarah moved the clothes from the washer to the dryer and had started on the next load, when she heard the collective groans of her daughter and husband in the next room, along with the plaintive drone of the final buzzer. “Hey you two,” she called from the adjacent room, “if the game’s over, I could use a hand folding.”