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The party.

I had brought my eighteen year old daughter off to orgasm. Whatever the rights or wrongs might be, the moment had been so erotic, so sudden and unexpected, that it didn't seem to matter. I don't claim to be the best-endowed man in the world, but I was sporting a hard-on the like of which I probably hadn't experienced since I was a lusty teenager.

She opened her eyes and looked at me. 'Thanks, Dad, that was wonderful.'

'I'm glad you enjoyed it' I said and leaned forward and lightly kissed her on her lips.

She seemed to recover herself and propped her head up with her hand, her elbow supporting her, but she was still on her side, and her breasts hung lopsided, giving them a slightly unreal appearance. She grinned at me and then said 'Mum was right, you know. She said you had a delicate touch.' Then she laughed again.

It took a moment for the words to sink in. 'What? What do you mean? Mum says I have a delicate touch?'

Laura looked embarrassed and her face flushed. 'Ah, well, you see, I was having a chat with Mum about the birds and the bees...'

'Didn't she do all that when you were first a teenager?' I interrupted.

'Yes, of course, but there were one or two things I wanted to know, so I collared her when she'd had a couple of drinks, figuring that she'd be more receptive. She really opened up to me, if you know what I mean?'

There was a hint in her words that was intriguing. Just what had my wife and daughter been up to? I lay down next to her and asked her 'Care to let me in on your little secrets?'

She blushed again, but then seemed to make her mind up. She settled down with her hand lying on her arm and I idly reached out and stroked her right nipple. She watched as she started her explanation.

'I'd heard a couple of things from a girl friend which didn't sound right and I figured that if anyone knew, Mum would. So I caught her one evening, you were at the rugby club with Josh, I think, and Mum had had a couple of drinks and seemed to be in a mellow mood. So I asked her about..., well, about masturbation, to be blunt. Martine, you know her, don't you, she told me that she lost her virginity to her hair brush handle, which didn't sound very nice to me. So I asked Mum about it.'

I switched from her right to her left nipple, my mind a-buzz with what she telling me.

'And what did Mum say?' I asked.

'Mum said it was more than possible. She said that if I was going to masturbate, then to do it carefully, so as not to break my hymen. But I said that I wasn't bothered about saving it for 'Mr Right'. And then she said that if that was the case, she could show me how to do it myself.'

'What?' was all I could stammer.

'We went up to her, your, bedroom and she undressed me, then stripped of herself. She took out the vibrator she keeps in the bedside drawer and she showed me how to use it properly.'

This was almost too much for me to comprehend. My wife and my daughter? Together? 'Go on' I said, letting my fingers move from her nipple down to her belly button.

'Mum had me spread-eagled on the bed and started to caress my breasts with it.

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