Please try to enjoy my submission for this year's Valentine's Day Story Contest 2024 and vote accordingly. Thank you.

Trish's Tush

Part One

"Dad, you've lost more than ten pounds since Mom passed," Trish had scolded. "It's not healthy for you, and you're scaring me that I might soon lose my father too."

Steve Hatcher hugged his daughter and said, "I needed to lose the weight. I feel fine and I'll prove it by going out and mowing the yard while you get settled in. I've already got dinner planned for us, so stay out of the kitchen."

Trish's mother, Elsa Hatcher, had been Steve's life force. They had been inseparable since meeting in the private grade school that they had both attended, and they had carefully structured their lives and careers to maintain as much commonality and closeness as a man and woman possibly could have together. Losing her last summer to the cruelly rapid ravages of stage four pancreatic cancer had been devastating for Steve Hatcher, and he made no excuses for the impact the loss of his wife had had on him.

When she wasn't trying to think of ways to cheer her father up during her visits, Trish would spend time sorting through her mother's personal belongings and packing things that she knew her mother would have wanted donated to charity. After her second weekend visit, all of her mother's clothes had been packed in boxes. On this, the third visit, Trish had intended to go through her mother's jewelry and other personal effects to determine which items she would keep for herself and which they would donate.

Finding the vibrating bullet among the loose items in one of the drawers in her mother's bedside table was interesting. Discovering the secret journal hidden underneath a false bottom of the second drawer was mind-blowing.

Scanning the first few pages of this journal - and it was definitely a journal rather than a diary - Trish was fascinated by what she saw. In her mother's precise and professional block letters, gleaned from her career as an architectural drafter, Trish recognized that the words in this book were a personal and intimate record of her mother's thoughts, observations, ideas, and experiences related to the sex life between her and her husband. Unlike the record of a person's daily experiences documented in a diary, the entries in this journal were sporadic and focused on a single subject; how to give and receive pleasure from the man that she had loved all her life.

Trish realized that she was holding a veritable textbook, or "how-to" guide for sex. Her mother had diligently chronicled her and her father's sex life from the time that they had begun clumsily using their hands to explore each other's bodies, progressed to experimenting with oral sex, described how they had shared the loss of their virginity together, and thousands of their sexual interludes through more than twenty years of marriage. Flipping to the last pages with entries, Trish saw that they continued until mere weeks before her mother's death.

Unlike many of her contemporaries; young women attempting to out-do each other as the campus connoisseur of cock, Patricia Hatcher had been more selective and discreet in her own sexual exploration and experimentation. She was not ashamed of her lack of experience, but the idea of gaining valuable knowledge from the words of her mother appealed to Trish. She carried the journal and slid it into her backpack.

Examining the vibrator while trying to decide where to store it, Trish noticed the tiny piece of plastic protruding from the side of the vibrator and recognized it as the protector that was placed to keep the battery fresh until the purchaser removed it. That meant that this particular vibrator had likely never been used by her mother, or anyone else.

Interesting. Well, Trish decided that she might just christen the thing tonight after her father went to bed. She might not have a great deal of experience with sexual partners, but Trish did know how to please herself and take the edge off her sometimes over-zealous libido with her battery-operated boyfriend of the day. She fully expected that a comprehensive review of her mother's journal would necessitate some relief being required tonight.

She awoke the next morning to the smell of fresh-brewed coffee emanating from the kitchen. Trish propped herself against her headboard and listened for sounds from her father as she continued slowly joining the new day. The journal was lying at the foot of her bed where her tossing and turning while asleep must have pushed it. She had no idea where the bullet vibrator was but knew that she would find it when she straightened her bed later.

Trish had not been disappointed when her father had decided to retire for the evening almost immediately after they had finished dinner. She cleaned up the kitchen after dinner, purposely stalling to allow him to get settled in his bed and hopefully asleep before she returned to her own room. The split bedroom design of their house left little chance that her father would be able to hear anything from her room while he was in his, but without a lock on her bedroom door, she wanted to be extra careful.

Starting at the beginning of her mother's journal, Trish hadn't made it far enough in it to read about her parent's honeymoon night before she had physically exhausted herself with multiple orgasms at her hands and with the occasional aid of the bullet vibrator. The five years of her parent's relationship that Trish had read about to that point taught her several things:

1. Her mother must have possessed a sexual libido equal to her own. She had written about being horny all the time and the frustrations that she had experienced when not being able to obtain release.

2. Her mother had been the dynamo in the sexual relationship between husband and wife. From the 1st hand job that her mother had given her father, through their entire marriage, her mother had been the partner who most often initiated sex, and always determined the breadth and depth of their interludes.

3. Unlike his personality in other aspects of his life, her father had always been deferential toward his wife's ideas and directions where their sex life was concerned. Their sex had been rather "vanilla", but what variations that did enter it had been driven by her mother.

4. According to her mother, Trish's father had a slightly larger than average penis. Being as tiny as her daughter, the size of her husband's equipment both thrilled her mother and frightened her.

5. The details that her mother had documented in her journal were as educational for Trish as they were arousing. She had come away from her reading with a desire to learn from her mother's experiences.

Trish focused on this last bit of awareness as she lay in her bed. She wanted to try the things that her mother had tried with her father, starting from the beginning. She wanted to learn how to explore a man's cock with her hands and bask in the responses that her touches would elicit from him. She wanted to feel her pussy becoming wet from the arousal derived from having control over her man's pleasure. She wanted to patiently tease and please a man until he could hold back no longer.

Recalling the pages that she had read last night, Trish considered her mother's words where her coercion of her father had been concerned. He had initially resisted her mother's request to show him his cock. They had been making out for almost half an hour in his parked car and his erection was getting uncomfortable in his jeans. When he attempted to reposition himself to ease the discomfort, her mother had begged him to open his pants and release his penis. She explained that she had been feeling the bulge for months, and that she deserved to see his physical reaction to her.

Her pleas for him not to deny her finally wore him down. He unzipped his jeans and began to fish his cock out of his pants when her mother had stopped him. She insisted on him allowing her to expose his cock to her for the first time. Her father had acquiesced to her that time, as he had virtually every other time that she made a request of him thereafter.

The thought struck Trish, "Would he do the same for me?"

This thought was followed seconds later by, "Would I want him to?"

Further thoughts were interrupted by a soft tapping on her bedroom door.

"Trish? Are you awake yet? It's almost 9 am."

She lurched forward and grabbed the journal from the foot of the bed and quickly slid it under one of her pillows.

"Come on in, Dad. I'm just taking my time greeting the day."

Her father entered the room with two cups of coffee and handed one to Trish. She patted the side of her bed, encouraging him to take a seat. He was wearing boxer briefs and a t-shirt, an ensemble that Trish had been accustomed to seeing him in since her childhood.

When he took a seat, Trish's eyes were drawn to his muscular thighs. Both of her parents had been into gymnastics when they had been younger and her father still had much of the muscular definition that he had developed in his youth. He was short in stature, barely five foot six inches, but he was a leader among men, owning the architectural firm that he and her mother had made their careers.

"Did you have anything special planned for today?" he asked his daughter.

After taking a sip of her coffee, Trish replied, "I had planned to finish going through Mom's things this morning. I should be ready to start taking boxes to Goodwill after lunchtime."

Her father just nodded and stared at his coffee cup. Trish decided to seize the moment.

"You know, Dad, one of the things I miss most about Mom is being able to go to her for advice..."

Her father jerked his head up, "Sweety, you can always come to me. I know that I'm not as knowledgeable in some girl-related stuff as your mom was, but I promise that I will always listen and do my best."

Trish took a few more sips from her coffee as she considered her father's words and how to use them to her advantage. To their advantage. After all, her idea was to ease his grief while at the same time allowing her to gain the knowledge her mother's journal held the promise of providing her.

She finally asked, "Dad, you and Mom had a pretty good sex life, didn't you?"

If he was surprised by the question, her father didn't show it. "I thought so. Why?"

"If I was to ask you a question as a girl, do you think that you could answer it as Mom would have?"

"I suppose that it would depend upon the question," her father admitted.

Trish covered her eyes with her hands, feinting embarrassment. She kept them covered as she said, "Questions about sex."

Her father chuckled as he moved up on his daughter's bed to lean against the headboard next to her.

"That's a pretty broad subject," he told her as he settled. Is there something in particular that is bothering you? Your mother told me that you haven't been a virgin since the summer after you graduated from high school."

Lowering her hands, Trish said, "Oh, God. Don't remind me of that experience. It was awful."

Her father placed his arm around Trish's shoulder and pulled her against him. "What questions do you have?"

Welcoming both the feel of her father's support and the improved mood that this discussion seemed to be instilling in him, Trish hesitated only a few seconds before continuing.

"It probably isn't much different than when you were my age, but guys all seem to have expectations that I'm not usually able to meet."

"Let me guess," her father said. "If they spend any money on you at all, they expect to get 'lucky'? Am I close?"

"Bullseye!" Trish exclaimed. "But it goes further than that. Some guys are patient for a few dates, but after that, if a girl doesn't meet their expectations, they lose interest entirely. What if a girl just isn't ready as quickly as the guy is?"

Her father squeezed Trish's shoulder and said, "Any guy not willing to wait for you to be ready isn't worth your time."

"But Dad, if I like a guy and want to keep him interested until I am ready, what do I do? I mean, I have heard other girls talk about ways to give a guy some relief without going all the way by using their hands on him, but I don't know if I could do that. I have never even actually touched a guy's penis. Did Mom ever do that for you?"

"I, uh..." her father stammered.

"Dad, please. Try to tell me what Mom would tell me. You are mother and father to me now, so try to switch hats for a few minutes."

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, her father finally relented, "She would probably tell you to give the guy a hand job to keep him satisfied until you were ready to go further with him."

Trish turned to face him, placing a hand onto her father's thigh, just below the hem of his boxer briefs.

"Mom would do more than that, wouldn't she, Dad?"

There was an audible hitch in her father's voice as he replied, "Yes. Your mother would explain to you how to do it."

As her hand slid up and under the leg of her father's boxer briefs, Trish commanded, "Then that's what I expect you to do. Explain to me how to give a guy the type of hand job that Mom gave to you."

Part Two

"You still like stretching me out, don't you?"

Steve Hatcher lifted his daughter's chin off of his still heaving chest and looked into her eyes, "Of course I do. Your pussy is just as tight as your mother's ever was. Why are you asking?"

Patrisha Hatcher-Wells wanted to choose her words carefully. She knew that the death of her mother was still a very emotionally sensitive subject for her father, but she needed to discuss with him some needed changes to their relationship that couldn't be broached without certain topics being included.

With the aid of the journal, Trish had followed closely her mother's guidance of her father through a second sexual awakening, or a reawakening as it were. She also discovered that she apparently shared the same joy of documenting the activities that she shared with her father, just as her mother had done for all those years. God, how re-reading her descriptions turned Trish on, sometimes more than having lived them. She wondered if her mother had felt the same way.

She and Eric had now been married for almost two years, and he encouraged and supported Trish's weekend visits with her father, though he knew nothing of their carnal activities during these visits. He saw them as an opportunity for him to play golf all weekend or simply hang with other guys watching sports.

While Trish had no intention of stopping the visits with her father permanently, things between them needed to change for a while. Explaining this to her father meant that she would have to raise a couple of subjects with him today. The size of his cock being one of the topics.

"I was wondering if you would like stretching my butt out as much as you do my pussy."

There, she had said it. Could she convince her father to do the one thing that her mother never could?

The last several pages in the journal before her death had described for Trish her mother's desire to give her final virginal orifice to the man that she had loved and shared her life with. As her health declined, so did her ability to overcome his concern over possibly hurting her. Trish would not be as easily dissuaded. Although her ass was far from being a virgin orifice like her mother's had been, her father didn't need to know that.

Separating his body from Trish, he propped his back against the headboard of his king-sized bed. He stared down at her laying on her stomach, head bent back as she looked at him with concern in her eyes. His own eyes journeyed down her wondrously naked body to gaze at her ass.

Trish had taken after her mother in so many ways, but none more so than with her beauty and physical endowments. Silver-blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, angelic pixielike facial features, and a physique reminiscent of the character, Tinker Bell from the Disney cartoons that her mother had tattooed on her right hip. Trish had followed her mother's example and had the same tattoo placed identically on her body for her father to plainly see whenever they were naked together.

Though she would always look young for her age, just as her mother had, Trish had developed into a full-grown, if demure, woman. Standing just under five feet tall and weighing less than one hundred pounds, her body was perfectly proportioned, with 32B breasts, a 24-inch waist, and 35-inch hips.

"Your mother and I never had anal sex," her father stated flatly. "There's nothing that I could show you in that regard."

Trish considered her father's words. She had never shared with him the fact that she had the journal that her mother had kept secret from her husband. So, Trish couldn't tell him that her interest was partly due to an obligation that she felt to fulfill her mother's wish to give her husband the experience of anal sex. Instead, Trish focused on the primary reason for suggesting the idea to her father.

"Was it because you thought that you would hurt her?" Trish asked as she reached up and wrapped her hand around his softening erection.

Her father's eyes shifted to Trish's hand on his cock. He didn't speak for several seconds as he felt her fingers gently working their magic on his semi-erect shaft. His wife used to have the same touch, and always achieved the same response from her actions as his daughter was now striving for.

"Causing discomfort for your mother was always a concern for me," he finally said. "I feel the same way about you."

She couldn't argue that point. Trish had known from the journal entries that her mother had struggled through their entire marriage trying to convince her husband that she wasn't a fragile China doll that he had to be concerned about breaking. No matter how she tried to explain her body's ability to adapt to his cock, he continued to treat his wife gently and with excruciating tenderness even when she had begged him to do otherwise.

"I know, Dad, and I appreciate it. But, unless you want only hand jobs and blow jobs from now on, we need to explore anal sex as an option for us."

To accentuate the topic of this discussion for her father, Trish scooted up until her tongue could reach the drop of precum that her fingers had induced from his cock. She slowly licked everything off the tip of his cock before continuing her explanation.

"It's now the second weekend in January. When I get home tomorrow, I am tossing out the rest of my birth control pills. That will give me almost thirty days being off the pills before Valentine's Day. That is going to be my present to Eric. I am giving him my fertility as a Valentine's Day gift. That means that I will be unprotected when you and I are together. So, I am willing to try preparing myself to take this monster in my butt if you decide that you want to take advantage of my offer."

While waiting for her father to respond, Trish once more brought her mouth to the cock in her hand and used her tongue to add the lubricating moisture that her consumption of his precum had denied her fingers.

"You and Eric have never tried anal sex?" her father asked.

"No," Trish lied once her mouth was free of his cock. "He wants to though. That's another reason why I think that you and I doing it would be a good idea. I've told you that Eric is slightly smaller than you, so starting with you would help prepare me for my husband, just like all of your earlier advice and experience helped me prepare for my life with him."

The reality was that her husband, Eric Wells, was hung like a freakin donkey and knew how to use his cock like no one that Trish had ever known. Where her father always treated her as he had her mother; like some delicate China doll, Eric had no problem turning Trish into a rag doll that he would ravage to her heart's content. Trish loved the way that her large and muscular husband would lift her off the ground and easily hold her in his arms as he pummeled her pussy for what seemed like hours.

Her father moaned as Trish's tongue drifted down to caress his balls as her hands continued to stroke him, "How would you intend to prepare yourself for us to try it?"

She gently sucked each of his balls into her mouth before releasing them to answer her father, "We. You will help me prepare. Let me show you..."

Trish moved up on the bed beside her father before turning so that her feet were near his face as she returned her attention back to his cock. Laying on her side, she spread her legs apart to give him access to her recently used pussy.

"Why don't you stick your finger into me and get it coated with our combined juices?" she prodded. "You can then start spreading that around my butt hole as a lubricant. Once I tell you that it feels slick enough, you can slowly insert your finger a little at a time. As we feel me loosening up in acceptance of one finger, you can try adding a second one."

Feeling her father move his hand in acceptance of her instructions thrilled Trish. His acquiescence told her that she would eventually succeed in accomplishing her goal of giving her father the experience of having anal sex. Maybe not today, but soon. Her next planned visit was the weekend before Valentine's Day after all.

Part Three

"Fuck, his tongue feels good!" Trish thought.

Sensing her impending orgasm, Steve Hatcher slid a second finger into his daughter's asshole and a third into her pussy as his tongue continued to gently tease her clit. The tightness of her sphincter limited his penetration to just the second knuckle of the two fingers, but he had brought Trish off enough times in this fashion to know what to expect.

The tightening of her sphincter mixed with the other signs of her growing arousal were indications that his daughter was on the verge of an explosive release, which would include screams of pleasure as her back arched up off the bed and copious juices were expelled in squirting bursts that would sometimes stretch on for several minutes.

Trish knew from reading her mother's journal that squirting was not something that had ever occurred during sex between her parents. She wasn't surprised when her father practically freaked out the first time that she had squirted while they were having anal sex. Like a lot of men, he had assumed that no woman could find anal sex as pleasurable as a man, and that simultaneous stimulation of other parts of her body would be the only pleasure a woman would derive from the act.

Other stimulation was always nice, and welcomed, but Trish had never had a problem achieving some of the best orgasms in her marriage while having her ass pounded mercilessly by her husband. She had considered how her father's naturally more gentle and considerate approach to the act might result in her not achieving an orgasm, but she had faked enough of those with her father over the years that a few more wouldn't be a problem.

"Are you going to squirt for me?" her father anxiously asked.

"Oh, yes. Just keep licking me and stretching me," Trish panted in response.

She was still amazed at how much more aroused she had been getting during sex, both with her father and Eric, since she had gotten pregnant. She didn't know if it was some hormonal thing within her body, or the influence that her being 'with child' had on the efforts to please her influencing the attention of the men. All she knew was that she had three more months of it, and she loved it.

In anticipation of her release, her father pushed Trish's legs back until her knees were resting against her shoulders. This had the effect of raising her ass up off the bed even further just as her orgasm erupted. Her father's fingers were forced from her spasming holes as she began squirting, and her body convulsed. Unintelligible screams of pleasure filled the room as her father buried his face against her pussy to receive the brunt of her liquid expulsions. His tongue teased at her rosebud while lapping up her juices, which combined with her own tweaking of her nipples, only served to stimulate and prolong her pleasure.

Since that weekend before Valentine's Day, his introduction to anal sex had resulted in her father slowly morphing into a more assertive lover. He would now frequently take the lead in determining positions, pace, and the intensity of their exploits. Trish had been pleasantly surprised the first time that her father had asked her to ride him with his cock in her ass. Until then, their only anal position had been missionary and he had been tentative with both his penetration of Trish's ass as well as how deep inside of her he would go.

If her mother had ambitions about having anal sex with her husband, she had not been alone. Trish discovered that her father had his own unspoken and unfulfilled fantasies as well. He took to fucking Trish's asshole like a fish to water, and even seemed more anxious for her weekend visits than he had been before. The laundry and other chores that Trish usually took care of during her weekend visits could now wait. Her father now had "needs".

With her eyes closed in wondrous orgasmic afterglow, Trish felt the bed shift as her father moved, followed within seconds by the tell-tale feel of his cock head against her lips. She parted her lips and let her tongue blindly seek out the taste of precum likely awaiting her on the tip of his cock. This was another way that her father had become more assertive. He now sought out, and expected Trish to take his cock into her mouth when he wanted rather than waiting for her to offer or suggest it.

He seemed to really get off on taking his cock directly from Trish's ass to her mouth and depositing his load down her gagging throat. Yes, he had definitely come out of the cocoon of grief that had restrained him for the past three years.

As Trish spread her lip wider to accept her father's cock fully into her mouth, she felt his hand gently caress one of her breasts before slowly moving down to run her belly. Her "baby bump" was significantly more pronounced than the last time that she had visited him, and they both knew that they wouldn't have many more weekends together before the baby was due.

Pulling her head back to free her father's cock from her mouth, Trish said, "I want this huge cock inside of me now. Lay down and let me ride you."

Steve Hatcher silently complied by stretching out onto his back on the bed to await his daughter's mount. Before doing so, Trish scooted over and retrieved the lubricant and her father's cell phone from his bedside table.

"You're going to need this," she informed him as she handed him his phone.

"Who am I supposed to call?" he asked as Trish prepared to straddle his body in a reverse cowgirl position.

"Here's what's going to happen," Trish said while lubricating his cock completely before positioning it at the entrance to her ass.

She continued, "I am going to ride you like Secretariat in the Kentucky Derby. I want you to cum so far inside of me that I'll be able to taste it. Then when you pull out afterward, I want you to take as many pictures of your seed dripping out of my gaped asshole as you want. Those will be your memory of our special times together."

While it would typically be the jockey who would flay the haunches of the beast being ridden, Steve took the initiative to gently smack his daughter's butt cheek as she increased her thrusting pace on top of him. Her cries of "HARDER!" after his first few smacks encouraged him to increase the intensity of his strikes, but also the frequency of their delivery. She was getting a ride that this cowgirl would not soon forget.

~~~

"Are you going to be okay on the drive home?"

Trish smiled at her father, "My bottom is a little tender from last night but I'll be fine. The seatbelt across my stomach will be more uncomfortable for me."

"Okay, but call me when you get home so that I know you made it there safely."

"Maybe I should text you instead. You said that you were expecting company tonight."

Her father nodded, "Monique and I will be continuing our lessons here tonight, so maybe a text would be better."

Trish beamed at her father, "I'm proud of you, Dad. Checking 'learning how to cook French cuisine' off of your bucket list is a huge step. How many lessons have you paid for?"

Did her father just blush? He did!

"Okay, Dad, spill it." Trish insisted.

Glancing everywhere but into his daughter's eyes, Steve Hatcher sought the words he needed. Trish placed her hands on either side of his face to focus him on her.

"What is it, Dad?"

With a deep sigh, he said, "I'm not paying for the cooking lessons. I am bartering with Monique for them."

Trish dropped her hands, crossed her arms over her breasts, and asked, "Bartering with what, exactly?"

"Bucket list items," her father confessed.

"What sort of bucket list items?" Trish implored. "What is on this Monique's bucket list that you could fulfill for her? Does she expect you to design her dream home for her or something?"

"Is architecture all that you think I'm qualified at?" her father asked with no attempt at hiding his indignation.

Although no other qualifications sprung into her mind at the moment, Trish answered, "Of course not, Dad. So, tell me, what are you bartering with?"

Her father closed his eyes in an expression of frustration that Trish was very familiar with. He finally said, "Monique lost her husband a few years back too. Her and I have been discussing our shared loss and all the things that we never did with our spouses, assuming that there would always be time later. In both our cases, the 'later' never came, at least not with that person. We've been discussing the possibility of us sharing some of those items together, Monique and me."

"Adventures such as learning how to cook French food?" Trish asked. "What else?"

"Look, Patrisha, this is not something that I feel comfortable sharing with my daughter, and I'm certain that Monique would not appreciate me..."

Setting her purse onto the counter, Trish raised her chin in stubborn defiance, "We'll see about that! I'll just wait here until Monique arrives and ask her myself.

Her father threw his arms in the air before reaching around Trish to retrieve her purse from the counter. Thrusting it at her, he said, "Fine, but not one word of this gets back to Monique. Agree?"

Trish accepted her purse and said, "Agreed."

Without further prompting, her father said, "Monique's bucket list is comprised almost entirely of fantasies. Fantasies that she was never able to fulfill before her husband's untimely death."

A grin appeared on Trish's face, "Sexual fantasies?"

Her father simply nodded.

"I love it, Dad! How many have you fulfilled so far? What's planned next? I can't wait to meet her!"

Beseechingly, he asked, "If I tell you what the plan is for tonight, will you leave?"

Trish had a mischievous smile on her face as she nodded in response.

"The first fantasy that Monique wants us to check off her list is for her to have anal sex. That's what we have planned for tonight."

Throwing her arms around her father and squeezing tightly, Trish said, "You'll make her fantasy come true so wonderful for her."

Stepping back and smiling up at her father, Trish added, "Do me one favor, Dad..."

"What's that?" he asked.

"Ask Monique if she keeps a journal."