A woman taking on the role of a mother...

My mother died of cancer in the spring of my third year of junior high school. Afterwards, relatives and friends actively persuaded my father, who was just over forty, to remarry.

"If it's for Mariko's sake, that's fine. Everything should be based on Mariko's opinion. As for me, as long as the person who marries into the family can cherish Mariko, I have no objections,"

I clearly remember my father always replying like that.

Because of this, my aunt specially invited me out for a detailed talk.

"Mariko! Tell the truth! Your words represent your father's feelings! What do you

say!" She was right, I was really stumped by her question.

For more than half a year after my mother's death, my father, who was an office worker, had to get up at seven o'clock every morning and leave at eight o'clock sharp in order to get to the company before nine o'clock. In the morning, in addition to making breakfast himself, he also had to wake me up. Because of my father's meticulous care, my longing for my mother was also diluted.

But whenever I saw my father clumsily doing housework in the kitchen, I felt deeply saddened.

"We definitely need a mother to take care of us."

Making dinner is my job, and when I hesitate about what to make, I often call my dad's office to ask.

"What do you want to eat?"

Of course, I also often call his workplace for other small things. I shouldn't bother him at work like this, but I can't not ask, so I started asking in symbolic ways.

"How about A tonight?" This means: "We'll have fish tonight."

Or, "I think B might be better than A, oh!" That is to say: "Meat is better than fish."

Conversations like this eventually became popular in my dad's company, and some people even envied our close father-daughter relationship!

For me, I really didn't want anyone interfering in our close relationship, so when my aunt brought up that matter again, I always answered her,

"Anyway, this kind of life is fine for now, let's talk about that after I graduate high school!" My aunt always spoke from my dad's perspective, and she always expected me to say "okay!" "Mariko! Your father is only forty-two years old. Besides, there are many things you wouldn't understand. A forty-two-year-old man needs a woman." " That's why I'm responsible for cooking dinner, and after school, I'm responsible for cleaning the house and doing laundry! Aren't these things women should do?" After answering her like this, my aunt smiled and said, "Mariko, a woman's job isn't just about laundry and cooking! A woman's body is also very important..." "You mean her body?" "Yes! I'm talking about her body. It's not good if your father has other women outside, or goes to brothels to do 'that kind of thing.' But asking him not to do it is a bit much for a normal forty-two-year-old southerner." My aunt was almost at her wit's end, and all I could do was listen, blushing. This was the first time I understood a woman's special functions, but I thought my father didn't want to do "that kind of thing" with any woman other than my mother! "But bringing other women into the house, I just can't stand it!" "That's because you're still an innocent girl. You don't understand your father's needs at all. Why don't you try to see things from his perspective? Don't you think he's pitiful?" "Stop talking! I still think things are fine as they are." After strongly objecting to my aunt, I ran out of the house crying. I didn't know why I was so sad. Tears just kept flowing uncontrollably. When I got home from a walk in the nearby park, I saw my father and aunt talking in the living room. Knowing it was wrong, I still went around to the window and secretly listened. "I told you! It's really unreasonable for you to talk to Mariko about this. If she could understand a man's perspective, then she'd be an adult. Besides, while it's true that a household without a woman is a bit inconvenient, how could she possibly understand those inconveniences!" "This... I didn't expect..." "Yes! She thinks that washing clothes and cooking are a woman's job. Sigh! Actually, I really want to remarry, but I still prioritize Mariko's opinion. So I think it's probably impossible." " What a pity! She was only married for six months when her husband died in a car accident. So she went back to her parents' home and helps out at the shop her family runs. Such a beautiful woman, and very easy to get along with." "Yes ! Just looking at her photos, you can tell she's a good person, but never mind! Please stop talking, I'm a little worried." "Hey! Talk to Mariko again! If it's really necessary, just be frank! She's still your daughter, she should understand. As for the reply, keep it for now! Think it over and we'll talk later." " Hmm... well... that's fine then!" Then, we chatted about many unimportant things. Judging from the conversation, my aunt had brought photos to talk to my father while I was away. So, I didn't go home immediately. I quickly moved away from under the window and wandered around the park area, not knowing how long it took before I slowly walked home. The matter of remarriage was never mentioned again. My father didn't talk about it, and even my aunt, who often visited, never mentioned it again. My aunt lived two stops below on the same tram line; it took about twenty minutes to get to my house by bicycle. She often cooked delicious dishes and shared them with us. Since my father felt it was inconvenient without a woman in the house, I started to do what my mother used to do... I would pour beer for Dad, or tidy up his clothes after he showered. Of course, I didn't feel like I was serving him; it was just what I was supposed to do. When my aunt came again, Dad kept praising me. "I have a new wife now, and she does everything so well for me! Look! She even ironed my yukata so neatly." "Oh! That's not easy!" "And that's not all! She even prepares beer for me every day and changes my shirts every three days. A wife like that is hard to find even if you have money!" Seeing Dad so happy made me happy too, and it made me determined to make Dad's life better and happier. My aunt leaned close to Dad's ear and said in a voice I could barely hear, "That's what she says, but she still can't sleep with you, can she?" When I heard their laughter, my head felt like it had been electrocuted, and my mind went blank. They thought no one heard, but I overheard them. At night, lying in bed, the words "stay overnight," "stay overnight" pierced my heart like arrows, making it impossible for me to fall asleep. Of course, I knew what "stay overnight" meant, and I also knew that for men, it was a rather pleasurable thing. But whether it was truly that pleasurable for women, I didn't know.

In television or movies, when a man forces himself on a woman, most women look very uneasy. I think that feeling must be extremely painful, and even at the moment of union, the woman's expression is one of pain. The furrows between her brows tell you she's in excruciating pain, but she has to endure it to please the man.

However, I think if I could do what that woman did to make my father happy and he would never mention remarriage again, I would be willing to endure it. On

May 3rd, in the middle of the night, a storm relentlessly pounded against the window of my second-floor bedroom, emitting mournful howls.

There are two rooms on the second floor, one about three pings (approximately 1.3 square meters), and the other is my bedroom, about two pings (approximately 1.3 square meters). On the first floor, there is a kitchen and a living room that doubles as a dining area. The living room has a sofa, and behind the living room is a three-ping-sized bedroom and a Japanese-style room. The bedroom has my parents' double bed. It's a very quiet bedroom, and my father is currently resting alone on that large double bed.

To make my "staying overnight" idea a reality, I had to do some careful consideration beforehand. If I suddenly blurted out "staying overnight," my dad would definitely be furious and say, "What nonsense are you talking about?"

But now that I had already chosen my moment, the approaching storm only strengthened my resolve to do it.

I put on floral bikini-style underwear; of course, a bra was superfluous. I was famous in class for my large breasts; the boys called me "Big Boobs" behind my back because they all wanted to suckle my ample bosom.

"Dad! Are you asleep? Dad!"

I called out coquettishly as I knocked on my dad's door.

It seemed that my dad, who had drunk two bottles of beer after coming back from drinking outside, was already fast asleep.

(Hmph! Doesn't he want a woman? How can he sleep like that!)

I couldn't help but feel annoyed.

It was on the first floor and there were no windows, so I couldn't feel the noise of the storm, but I was determined to wake my dad.

"Hey! Dad, are you asleep or awake?"

"What's wrong, Mariko? What happened?"

"Yes! It's Mariko! Who else could it be?"

"What's wrong?" "

The second floor is too scary, I can't sleep."

"Oh! It's a storm! I had no idea, is the second floor alright?"

"That's why! It's not good at all, it's so scary, so scary that I can't sleep!"

"Is that so? Wait a minute!"

The door was locked from the inside, so it couldn't be opened from the outside.

After the door opened, Dad looked at me sleepily.

"Sleep with me!"

Before Dad could say another word, I quickly jumped past him and onto the double bed.

At that moment, I didn't know what kind of expression Dad had on his face, because as soon as I got into bed, I crawled under the covers and covered my head.

"I see, I really didn't know the wind was so strong! You can't hear a sound in this bedroom, with such a strong storm, how can anyone sleep!"

Dad muttered to himself.

My father didn't say anything as I quickly slipped under the covers. But "Storm" seemed to imply that he allowed me to do so.

Perhaps he was a little drunk! After finishing his water, my father smoked a cigarette alone in the dark. As if he had thought of something, maybe this is what it means to be of one mind! Perhaps my father had already sensed what I wanted to do!

But he was probably thinking, I didn't know about the secret conversation I had with my aunt last time! Could this daughter, who was only a high school freshman, really be so bold?

This daughter was far more mature than he thought! My father didn't seem to realize this. Because in the minds of parents, they always treat their children like elementary school students.

After a long time, his judgment seemed to have fallen asleep in his heart. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes wasn't so unpleasant anymore.

My father finally went to bed, wanting to force myself to press my "mother-level" breasts against his body, but I felt a little uncomfortable. Finally, I did it. Watching my father's hands flutter in confusion, the feeling was incredibly satisfying.

Am I a delinquent?

Am I the gentle and obedient daughter my father envisioned?

I did this simply to stop my father from having any thoughts of remarriage, and I could also repay his kindness.

My next action was a decision I made after thoroughly observing my father's reaction.

On the stormy night, my father's behavior showed that he no longer saw me as his daughter. In his subconscious, I was just a real woman. With this realization, I planned my next step.

So, about four days later, one night, I made a decision as decisively as if I had jumped off a stage and went to my father's bedroom.

"Dad! Are you asleep?"

I knocked on the door and called out loudly.

My father wasn't asleep yet; he was probably reading. He opened the door immediately when I knocked.

I stood motionless in front of him, my hands crossed over my stomach, looking at him.

"What's wrong? Mariko, what's wrong?"

My father put his arm around my shoulder and looked carefully at my face.

"My stomach hurts... oh..."

"Oh! When did it start?"

"About an hour ago. I took some medicine, but it didn't work."

"Where does it hurt?"

"Um... there... oh... it's here! It's a dull ache. Oh, Daddy! Rub it for me! Rubbing it might help..."

Having made up my mind, I lay down on the bed without waiting for my dad's answer and started moaning "oh... oh..."

No parent in the world would stand by and watch their daughter suffer, so I boldly took action.

"Do you really want me to rub it...?"

Did Daddy really not want to rub it for me? Humph! What's with the politeness? Suddenly, I felt a little dissatisfied.

So Daddy lay down next to me and put his hand near my stomach.

"Ouch... hurry... rub it!"

I cried out in a spoiled tone.

"What did you eat?"

"Nothing! I ate the same as Dad! Ah... I feel so comfortable like this..."

"You're not too cold, are you?"

"Hmm... I don't know..."

Tonight I wore a loose yukata, tied with a thin sash, and knotted it in the front. I always tie the knot high up, so Dad's hand was just below the knot.

"Put more force into it! Dad, rubbing like this weakly won't work. You should use force like this..."

I pressed my hand down on Dad's hand, pressing hard, thus pushing Dad's hand inside the yukata. This was part of my plan.

The moment Dad's hand touched my skin, he paused for a moment, but I pretended to be nonchalant and continued to push his hand away, letting him continue to stroke my skin.

Because of his constant stroking, my clothes gradually loosened, and with the loosening of the clothes, my entire lower abdomen was completely exposed.

"It hurts! Dad, can you touch it a little harder?"

At this point, I had already removed his hand, and Dad automatically continued to stroke the skin around my stomach.

"Hmm... it doesn't seem to be there, it seems to be the whole abdomen! Let's expand the area and check, because I can't be sure where it hurts at all."

"Call a doctor or send an ambulance! If it's a strange pain, the consequences could be unimaginable. If your mother were here, that would be great."

Dad looked very helpless.

"Ugh! Why send an ambulance! It's not as serious as you think. Dad's hands are warm, just stroking like this is fine, move it a little closer."

"Like this?"

Dad's eyes must have seen the white underwear under the yukata. I deliberately lifted my leg, making my yukata looser and easily revealing my alluring white panties.

"Aren't you cold without any covers?"

As soon as Dad finished speaking, I burrowed under the covers. Dad felt my cold skin and followed suit, lying down beside me.

I went all out, throwing myself into it without a care.

It didn't hurt at all, but I lied, crying out, "It hurts...it hurts..." It was the first time in my life that a man's (my father was, after all, a man to me) hands had touched me like that, so I knew I was sweating profusely with nervousness.

Dad seemed to notice and asked me worriedly,

"Mariko's sweating from the pain."

"No...it's not like that, I feel much better now."

To make it easier for Dad's hands, I rested my face against his chest, only my lower body, covered by my panties, exposed.

Dad used his left hand as a pillow, stroking my stomach with only his right hand. Oh! What a daring daughter! But for Dad, for me, I'm determined to take Mom's place, so I have no intention of stopping what I'm doing.

"Dad, it doesn't seem to be the stomach area. Try touching a little lower!"

Incredibly, I let out an "Ah!" when Dad's hand slid down to my belly button.

"Hmm... a little lower! Maybe the lower abdomen? Maybe the intestines... ah... yes, right there... touch it harder!"

Dad followed my instructions without stopping.

However, what I meant by "there" was the hairy "dark forest" area, the entire lower abdomen, further down from my belly button!

If Dad saw that area, he might stop, but thankfully, it's covered by the blanket.

Dad must be able to smell the silky scent of my hair! A book said that men are attracted to the scent of this kind of conditioner, and some even said, "That's the scent of a woman."

I've spent a lot of time and energy on this plan. Now I'm not Mariko anymore, but a substitute for my deceased mother.

My aunt, who often comes to our house to persuade my father to remarry, often says,

"Really! Mariko is a spitting image of her mother! Not only her face, but even her voice and the way she walks are exactly the same!"

My aunt says I'm so much like my mother, so my father must also want someone like my mother to accompany him!

"Hmm... Dad... it feels like it hurts a little lower down! Hmm... press harder here!"

To drive my father crazy sooner, and so that I can replace my mother sooner, I use my own hand to guide my father's hand to the "mysterious black forest" area.

Now my father's hand is indeed covering this paradise.

I can feel the wind blowing on these pubic hairs, a different feeling that makes me both nervous and excited.

"It's here. Press down hard from the bottom. Ah! No... um... like this... press down again... oh... it's the intestines."

At this moment, Dad wasn't very brave in exploring with his hands. From the warm breath he exhaled, I could feel that he was slowly starting to mistake me for Mom.

"Yes! Right now, I'm not your daughter Mariko, but your intimate other half!"

Dad's hand gradually invaded my pubic hair, slowly moving downwards step by step. At this moment, I pulled my hand out and naturally placed it on Dad's waist, wrapping my arms around him.

Wow! It feels so good! I finally realized that this feeling wasn't like the pain women saw on TV; it was really pleasurable.

I didn't feel any guilt at all.

At this moment, Dad wasn't holding Mariko, but my imagined Mom. Thinking like this, why should I feel guilty? I think there's no need at all.

"Ah... ah..."

I couldn't help but let out a sensual moan of pleasure.

My father's fingers reached the thickest part of my pubic hair, as if I had fallen from a mountain into a deep valley. Immediately, clear water gushed from the valley, and his fingers swam freely there.

I could no longer calm down; an electric-like pleasure filled my lower body, and my waist trembled uncontrollably.

At some point, my father's fingers multiplied from one to two, continuously twitching in and out of the valley.

Then, as if he had clearly decided on his course of action, he withdrew his left hand, which had been resting on his head, and stroked my head and ears.

When his fingers entered my ear, the pleasurable sensation sent electric shocks through my body; I didn't know why, but the feeling was ethereal.

His lower hand was teasing the mounds at the bottom of my pubic area, and the pleasure from above and below flowed through my entire body like an electric current.

"Oh... Daddy... Oh..."

I cried out without thinking, then gripped my father's body tightly, as if I would fall apart if I didn't.

"Oh... Mariko..."

Dad was calling my name too.

"Dad... Oh..."

"Mariko... Mariko... Oh..."

Dad and I kept calling each other's names.

(From today onwards, Mariko will do everything in place of Mom.)

I thought to myself, but I didn't say it aloud.

(So please don't even think about bringing a new mom into the house!)

Although I didn't say these words, even if I wanted to, no sound would come out of my throat, only groans.

"Mmm! Good! Really good... Dad... Mariko is really enjoying it now! Oh... Good... Faster... Faster... Faster..."

"Here? Is it here? Good girl, Mariko is so good... Oh... My lovely Mariko..."

"Dad... I... my stomach is better now... so you can do whatever you want! Mariko really loves Dad, really, you can do whatever you want, Mariko will always be yours, always your wife."

"Mariko, you silly child..."

The moment Dad pulled his finger out and rolled over, I felt inexplicably excited.

After Dad sat up, he lay back down, pulling his body back to my waist. Then he spread my legs and bent down to press his face close to... my private parts. My

yukata wasn't fully on, so my breasts, abdomen, and genitals were all exposed to Dad's eyes. His right hand was caressing my proud, large breasts.

When he squeezed my huge breasts tightly, another surge of pleasure rushed up, and at the same time, Dad's mouth was aimed at "that place."

"Ah...ah...Dad! What are you doing!...Dad! What are you doing!"

Dad wasn't just trying to kiss it as I'd imagined. In fact, he was vigorously manipulating and licking it.

Oh...his tongue gradually entered the valley, and in this bottomless pit, his tongue was constantly licking, twitching back and forth. The beauty of that feeling was something I'd never experienced since birth.

Dad used his fingers to part the small mounds on the left and right, revealing that small lump of flesh. Although I couldn't see this action, I could imagine it.

Dad would gently bite the hard lump with his teeth, then tease it with his tongue, and then suck on it.

I wanted to grab Dad's body, but it was too far away; I couldn't reach it at all. I could only clench my fists to resist the constant, electric-like spasms. Oh! Waves of pleasure washed over me; I was afraid I was going crazy.

I've forgotten whether I was holding a pillow or a blanket in my hand.

Dad, panting heavily, repeated his actions.

"What's wrong... what's wrong..."

What will happen next? What new pleasures will unfold? I really didn't know, so I could only ask casually.

When Dad pulled his mouth away and moved closer to me,

(I'm about to be Dad's wife!)

I thought.

When Dad inserted his penis, I was surprisingly calm.

He wasn't my father anymore, and I wondered how a woman addresses her husband after marriage. And what would I call him after becoming Dad's wife? But I didn't call him anything.

Because I wasn't an ordinary bride, it seemed Dad didn't need any title! Just having sex with him was enough.

(I'm sorry...) I didn't want him to say things like that to me; silence was best.

Now, I wasn't just a wife and daughter, but also a high school student.

Since that night, I've had my dad hold me to sleep every night, and my desire for sex has grown stronger with each passing day. Lately, I've been the one begging him to make love to me.

"Okay? Don't you have any homework?"

My dad always asks, seeing me already in bed waiting.

To make my dad happy, and for my own desires... to make love to my dad, I go straight home after school and don't go anywhere else. Then I quickly finish my homework, prepare dinner, and pour a beer while waiting for my dad to come home.

Lately, my dad hasn't been drinking outside or coming home late. He's put me first; to me, he's a truly good husband and lover.

My dad even teaches me about intimacy and the secrets of sex, and I've decided to be his most charming and best wife.

As for getting married in the future, I've never thought about it. I just want to happily be a high school student, a daughter, and a wife every day.

I love the pleasure of making love with my dad; it's so great, so wonderful!

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A woman taking on the role of a mother...

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