Subject: A Father-Daughter Day (and night)
Story Codes: MF oral exhib incest father daughter
Diary Date: May 19, 2013
Author: Kelly <pghpa_girl@yahoo.com>
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!!!WARNING!!!!
This file contains sexually explicit material which may include graphic
depictions of underage, nonconsensual and unprotected sex as well as
incest, adultery, sodomy and bestiality. It is distributed on a website
clearly identified as "For Adults Only". Possession by a minor is
strictly forbidden. If you are not legally empowered to be in possession
of such material, do not read it and delete it immediately.
This work is copyrighted 2016 to the author. It may be posted to non-
commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites so
long as no changes are made to the content and the Author information is
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Author only.
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Summary
=======
My how time flies! One day I suddenly realized that it had been a long
time since I’d spent an entire day together with just my dad. Even
though he’d never complained I couldn’t help but feel guilty for being so
derelict in my duties as a Christian daughter. Well, there was only
thing for me to do...
Table of Contents
=================
Chapter 1 - Duties and Responsibilities
Chapter 2 - In-Laws
Chapter 3 - Surprising My Dad
Chapter 4 - Date Night
Chapter 5 - Satisfying My Father’s Needs
Chapter 1 - Duties and Responsibilities
=======================================
If you ask me, it’s an unsettling sign of the times that the divorce rate
amongst so-called Christian couples is higher than fifty percent and
growing each year. Like, what is a statistic like this one telling us
about our decaying moral values? Just think about it... I mean like less
than half of all Christian couples stay true to the sacred vows they took
before their families and God and it really bothers me. Not only is it
an affront to God, but what sort of message are we sending to the non-
Christian communities? Is it really any wonder why Christians are
treated the way we are. I guess you could even say that we deserve it
based on the hypocrisy that’s become so rife within the ranks.
It’s not just the religious implications but also the impact that divorce
has on families as well. Indeed, as a teacher in a large public school I
witness every day the results when I see the growing number of children
who come from single-parent families - and I’m fortunate enough to be
employed by an upper-income community where the “problems” of the inner
city are supposedly minimalized. While exceptions certainly exists,
anyone who’s had any exposure at all to kids these days will tell you
that as a general rule, having two parents is always better than one.
So what’s led to this decline in family values? Well, everyone has their
opinion in the matter and of course, so do I. No doubt I could probably
write an entire thesis and barely scratch the surface so instead I’ll
just focus on what I consider to be one of the most critical features of
a successful marriage - the firm establishment and understanding of roles
and responsibilities. Although nothing can guarantee a marriage’s
longevity, I firmly maintain that without this crucial element that a
marriage is almost certainly doomed to fail sooner than later. Even if
it doesn’t result in divorce, it might be better that the marriage DID
fail based on what I’ve seen where couple don’t separate.
Simply stating that roles and responsibilities are critical is the easy
part. It would be impossible, or at least undesirable, to spell out
everything that each member of a family should and should not do. Making
it all the more complicated, no two families are exactly the same so it
only makes sense that no two families would necessarily have the same
assignments. Thus I would maintain that what is REALLY important is that
each couple HAVE roles established and that they well understood. Of
course, following them is pretty important as well.
Like most things in life, as important as roles and responsibilities are
there’s always the risk of going too far, especially when dealing with
what are really trivial issues. Decisions regarding who takes out the
garbage, who does dishes, etc. will almost certainly change over time.
Really, so long as they don't lead to unnecessary bickering and fighting,
who really cares? Indeed, as I’ve already stated I believe that there’s
a real danger of going TOO far when it comes to the establishment of
responsibilities to where people feel like they’re in boxed in.
OK... so when it’s all said and done, by now I imagine any reading this
is asking just what does all nonsense this have to do with anyone who
might be considering incest? Well, if you were to ask me I’d tell you
that that a successful marriage is a non-negotiable prerequisite to
incest. As part of creating such a successful marriage, each partner
needs to confirm that they’ve dealt successfully with the issue of family
roles before taking any steps toward actually engaging in incest. Even
if they have, the strain that incest can place on these roles can lead to
quite severe and complex issues even if a solid foundation is in place so
just imagine if one isn’t!
When it comes to determining your roles in life, whether it be in
marriage or at work or even amongst friends, it always helps to have a
mentor. For me, as a daughter and a wife I’ve always tried to emulate my
mom. After all, what better role model could a girl possibly ask for
than her own mother? Thanks in no small part to my mom’s firm
convictions and broad understandings, my parents’ marriage lasted more
than 25 years before their unfortunate divorce. Even though in society’s
eye their marriage technically “Failed”, the reason for their separation
had nothing to do with their love for one another (indeed, they have
remained best friends) but rather to the sexual addictions that my father
was unable to contain. It’s really no different than how an addiction to
drugs or alcohol will typically lead to a divorce. Over the years
weakness grew until eventually my mother was forced into a situation
where she had to make a decision - to either totally compromise her most
sacred ethical and moral beliefs or leave her husband of over a quarter
century. I’m incredibly proud of my mom for having such strong moral
convictions such that she was able to make such a terrible choice and in
the end be absolutely certain that she made the correct decision.
Hopefully I’ll never have to face such a situation myself but if I
should, at least I have her example to follow.
To summarize what I learned from my mother, and what I hope someday to
pass on to my own daughter, is that in a Christian marriage the man is
the head of the household. It is then the duty and responsibility of the
woman to submit to the biblical authority of her man. (Please, let’s not
go off on a tangent regarding gay and lesbian couples, the same
principles still apply.) Neither my mother or I had a brother so in our
cases this applied to our fathers only but I know that someday if I have
a son that he will assume his rightful place in our family authority
structure when he enters puberty and becomes a man.
In the same manner my daughter will also learn to submit to our men as
it’s simply the proper thing for a daughter to do. Thus my daughter will
be taught to do the same things which I did with my father, and that my
mother did with her father before me - to submit herself wholly and
completely to her father without question or hesitation.
Now before everyone jumps all over me, some clarification is needed
because the subject of Christian submission is far too complex to be
properly explained in just a few sentences. In fact, so complex that I
wrote an entire diary entry about it which is posted in the “About Me”
folder of my diary site and even then I don’t do it justice. Thus in
this entry I’ll only cover the highlights to the extent necessary to
allow people to gain a basic understand of my actions on this day.
First and foremost, as a daughter my ultimate responsibility is to my
father (after God of course). The biblical top ten list (AKA The Ten
Commandments) instructs us to honor our fathers and mothers. Therefore
every father has a right granted by God to expect his daughter to honor
him. What better way to do this than by submitting herself to him in
whatever manner is necessary to satisfy his most basic needs and desires
- assuming of course that he doesn’t abuse his position of authority.
What’s “Necessary” is highly subjective as every man has different needs
and attitudes. For some fathers it can be as simple as her being a good
student, an athlete, to excel in the arts, etc.
However, ALL fathers are also men and ALL men by their very nature have
sexual needs and desires which can sometimes grow beyond their control.
For a man to have desires for a young girl is not only natural, it’s to
be expected. What IS unnatural is for a man to be expected to resist
these “hard-wired” feelings that he has no control over and force them to
remain buried and unfilled. To borrow from a common saying, “80% of men
admit that they fantasize about sex with younger girls, including their
daughters. The other 20% are liars.” Given our cultural attitudes, not
to mention antiquated legal system, most men are left with only
masturbation and fantasy as means to deal with these feelings.
The sad thing about this is that the moral and righteous men conform to
these rules and laws and never go beyond the fantasy stage to the point
they won’t, indeed in many cases CAN’T, even admit to having them - not
even to themselves. What that leaves are the perverted and immoral men
who cave in to their desires and use incest as an excuse for child abuse,
hence desecrating the entire principle and casting incest in a totally
bad light.
While I will be the first to concede that it’s rare, there will always be
instances where a moral and righteous father cannot contain his needs and
desires through simple masturbation and fantasy. In such cases it then
becomes his daughter’s duty and obligation to satisfy her father’s needs
in a manner only she can. Yes, in a perfect world this would occur in a
loving and respectful family environment and when I refer to “true”
incest, that’s what I am referring to.
As I said, unfortunately the world is NOT perfect and there are perverts
and sadists who twist God’s word and use incest as an excuse for rape and
abuse. Yes, technically and legally it’s still incest but this is the
sort of sick behavior that gives incest a black eye and results in the
taboos and laws against it. Sadly, the immorality of the minority
overshadows the goodness of the majority thereby forcing men who love
their daughters and nieces to have to hide their actions or face
retribution from those who cannot understand the difference between the
actions of a pervert and those of a loving father.
When it comes to my relationship with my own dad, it’s always been an
example of “true” incest. My father has NEVER forced me to do anything I
haven’t been more than willing to do. Indeed, if anything I love knowing
that I can please him and fulfill his needs and desires in a way nobody
else in the world can, not even my own mother.
When it comes to my own daughter, I’m not sure yet what type of sexual
relations she and my husband will establish in the future, if any for
that matter. Today Steve is firmly opposed to incest in principle
although he does not openly oppose me from fulfilling my obligations to
my father. If he and my daughter never have sex then that would be fine
with me so long as they are both happy. As I’ve often said, I don’t need
to have sex with my dad to know he loves me, I have sex with him BECAUSE
he loves me.
As you should understand by now, I don’t personally believe a girl has to
be the one to initiate anything with her parents in a sexual way. At the
same time I DO believe that she needs to be prepared by her mother to be
open to the idea such that if and when her father needs her she’s ready.
Some people crassly refer to this as “grooming” which I find personally
offensive as it’s usually intended to mean some sort of brainwashing is
taking place to where a girl ends up doing something she does not really
want to do. Indeed, I’ve had many people accuse my parents of this
claiming that I must have been “groomed” by my parents until eventually
we all had sex and I was so brainwashed by then into believing that it
was the proper thing to do that I believed it was the right thing to do
when it really wasn’t.
Hogwash!
I’m not part of some commune and I’m independent enough and, if I can be
so bold to say, intelligent enough to know by now that I’ve never been
“groomed”, brainwashed, or anything of the type. Everything I’ve done
has been by MY choice and I take full responsibility. It’s insulting to
me and my parents for anyone to insinuate anything different.
When it comes to the daughter and her duties, it really doesn’t matter
what her mother wants (it would be different of course if I was talking
about sons instead). In my case it was easier for my mom to prepare me
because she had grown up herself in a sexual relationship with her own
father. However, just because a mother doesn’t have such a background
herself is no excuse for not ensuring her daughter is prepared in the
event she’s called upon by her father to surrender herself to him.
Take my own mother and her younger sister for example. My grandmother
doesn’t particularly care for incest (to put it diplomatically) and has
never participated in it or even watched her husband and daughters having
sex together. However, she also taught her daughters from an early age
to obey their father explicitly and to never refuse him even though the
concept of a sexual advance by him was never mentioned prior to it
actually happening. Personally, I think my grandmother was hoping that
her husband would not require his daughters in such a way but I realize
now that she was being more than just a little naive.
Still, imagine how differently things might have been that night when my
grandfather went to my fourteen year-old mother’s bed for the first time
had she NOT been prepared to say yes unconditionally to whatever he
demanded of her. I’m sure the reaction of her younger sister upon seeing
her father fucking her big sister would’ve been a lot different as well
had she not been taught to understand that anything her father wanted
from them was OK. Small wonder that even though she was only twelve at
the time that she was so anxious for her father to fuck her soon
afterwards so she could be just like her older sister!
The good news was that both girls grew up from that point having the
honor and joy of knowing what few girls ever get to experience - the true
expression of their father’s love in the most intimate way possible
though the sharing of their bodies with his. Just as I would feel for
myself years later, how lucky they must’ve felt knowing without any doubt
whatsoever that they could make their father feel better in ways nobody
else could, not even their own mother. As I said, unfortunately my
grandmother never participated but even she understood her duties as a
wife such she didn’t make any attempt to stop her husband from having sex
with their daughters. She knew that even if she was personally opposed
to it that to do so would have simply been wrong. True, she never
encouraged them or even watched but she DID provide an atmosphere which
allowed everyone to be happy and not having to hide or feel guilty.
All this leads me to the other person to whom most every girl will
eventually submit - her husband. Just as with her father this has
nothing to do with bondage, slavery or anything weird or perverted. It
can be as simple as acknowledging his place as the head of their home and
affording him the proper respect and actions he deserves. It could also
mean providing sexual relief at a time when she’s really not in the mood
but knowing and acknowledging that his needs come first.
One point that’s VERY important to stress - biblically-based submission
is a two-way street. Yes, the woman is tasked with yielding herself to
ALL of the men in her marital family (by which I mean father, son,
grandfather, uncle, cousin) but at the same time a HUGE burden and
responsibility is placed on them as well. The Bible not only tells a
woman to submit to her husband, it also instructs the husband to love his
wife as Christ loves the Church. Like wow, can anyone even really
comprehend what that means? If anything I would say it puts more
responsibility on the man than the woman! Thus for a man to abuse his
wife or daughter or to force anything on them against their will or
beliefs would be a blatant violation of the biblical responsibility that
has been placed on him. Just because a man has AUTHORITY over his wife
and daughter doesn’t mean he has the RIGHT to do just anything.
That’s where the line gets drawn between submission and abuse and to me
it’s pretty clear. For example, my father LOVES anal sex but he also
knows that I don’t. of course if he ever insisted I would allow him to
fuck my ass without hesitation but at the same time I never worry about
it because I know he respects me enough never to force me to make that
choice in the first place. You see... it’s a two-way street...
So how did this submission thing work out for me as I grew up? Let’s be
real - I wasn’t a perfect daughter and by no means was I some sort of
angel. There were more times than I care to admit when I didn't always
obey my dad or I did things that frustrated and upset him. But in my
defense it’s only natural in the growth and maturity of any human being
to rebel against authority and to question everything, especially your
typical teenager. Still, it’s one thing to not make your bed or to come
home past curfew from a date but quite another to say “no” to your dad
when he comes to him horny and needing your help. Indeed, I’m extremely
proud to be able to say today that I’ve NEVER refused to satisfy my
father’s sexual needs. Now if only I could say the same about that
curfew thing... LOL.
People often ask me if there’s anything I’ve done in my life, at least
sexually, that I regret. I honestly can say that from a sexual
perspective that there’s nothing I would take back if given the chance to
do it over again. Indeed, my experiences, both the good AND the bad, are
what made me who I am today. Without all of it who knows who I’d be
today? Certainly not the Kelly people know me as.
Ironically, what I DO regret are the things I did NOT do. At the top of
that list standing head and shoulders above the rest is not giving my dad
my virginity. Yes, I know technically it wasn’t my fault as he never
told me that it was something he wanted before it was too late. Still,
it tugs at my heart strings whenever I think about it. Next on the list
would be not pleasing him even before I became sexually active in the
ways I know now that he wished that I had. Again, like my virginity
everyone is always telling me that I shouldn’t feel guilty because my
mother prevented anything like that from happening. It’s not that she
actively stopped me from doing anything, but more like she just kept the
situation from arising. Yeah, it’s a fine line for a mother to straddle
but she was pretty good at it! Still, it’s hard to put that behind me.
When you believe as strongly as I do about how a daughter should submit
to her father then that’s pretty much asking the impossible.
Of course in all fairness to me, as I mentioned, at that age I never knew
my dad even wanted such things from me. Of course I knew he had sexual
desires and fantasies given how often I would see him masturbate using
the HUGE collection of porn he’d watch most nights. Yes, he looked at me
the way most men did and even would get hard when I sat on his lap or
when he watched me masturbate but knowing that he WAS a man why would I
be surprised that he would react same the way I saw other men react to
me? Indeed, lots of men would stare at me when I was younger, especially
when I would wear something a little showy, and I could tell some of them
got erections too. Still, it’s not like they had sex with me even though
I knew they must have been thinking about it. If anything, I probably
would’ve wondered what was wrong with me if my dad had NOT reacted the
same as other men! All the same, my mother was always there telling me
that it was one thing for a man to THINK about something but that didn’t
mean he would ever DO those things and the same applied to my father.
OK, so maybe she misled me a little but it’s important to note that she
never actually STOPPED me from doing anything. Al she ever did was to
just subtly prevent me from understanding what my dad REALLY wanted.
Thankfully I was able to spend my later teen years pleasing my father and
enjoying the feelings of contentment and fulfillment that can only come
from a proper incestual relationship. Comparing myself to most girls I
know, I strongly believe that incest with my father helped me to grow up
more self-confident and at ease with myself by better understanding my
roles as his daughter as well as the responsibilities that came with
those roles. I never went through the “who am I?” stage - I KNEW. I was
my father’s daughter and nothing thrilled me more than to give myself to
him in every way he wanted.
As I dated more seriously and started to think of marriage, I became more
and more excited about the new role I would hopefully soon take on - that
of being a wife. I knew from my mother’s example that it wouldn’t have
any impact on my responsibilities as daughter but instead would actually
add more meaning and fulfillment to my life. Not yet fully understanding
things at that age, I expected and planned to be totally faithful to my
husband which would mean stop having sex with men outside my marital
family (thankfully blowjobs and such aren’t technically sex!). Sure to
some extent I felt a little trepidation at this change in lifestyle but
at the same time I knew it would be replaced by my husband’s love for me
- a love like that of no other man. Indeed, I’ve always maintained that
every man I have sex with I have “fucked”. This even applies to my
father. It’s only when I have sex with my husband that I consider myself
“making love”.
Fortunately as things worked out my husband was more than anxious to
share me with other men than to keep me locked away so my worries about
having to scale back my sex life turned out to be unfounded. I guess you
could say I now have the best of both worlds - a husband who adores me
and takes every opportunity to please me while still having the freedom
to enjoy the fun of casual sex with strangers.
While on the one hand it may seem that I have similar roles and
responsibilities by submitting to my father and my husband, in reality it
turns out that they’re quite different. The basic underlying theme is
the same - submission to their authority and needs but it’s HOW I achieve
those goals that has turned out to be a lot more different than what I’d
expected. Given my grandfather had passed away years before I knew about
my mother’s incestual relationship with him but I never was able to
witness how she dealt with it and have only her recollections to go by.
Taking into account the incredible changes in our society and culture
between her generation and mine, I doubt that even if I had it wouldn't
have made much difference.
For example, with my father sex is pretty much about taking care of his
needs and desires. My father has always had what I think of as an
abnormally high sex drive, even to the point of compulsion. Indeed, he
use to masturbate when I was younger more than most teenagers I came to
know later. It wasn’t until much later that I grew to understand his
preferences for younger girls (nothing creepy - like ages eleven to
fifteen). Indeed, if anything it just made me feel even more guilty at
times knowing how badly he wanted me when I was in that age range and yet
not be able to do with me the things he craved so badly. It also goes to
show you that even though my mother submitted to him as his wife, he also
honored her morals and commitments when it came to youth sex and pushing
me into a sexual relationship. Sure by virtue of the fact he was her
husband he could have demanded that she stand aside and let him take me
but he loved her too much to do such a thing. Now THAT is the perfect
example of a Christian marriage based on love and submission if there
ever was one.
Fortunately, I eventually realized how much I wanted my father when I saw
him making love to my mother for the first time when I was sixteen. Thus
began a new phase in our relationship that has grown and matured to what
we share today. Like any relationship it has changed and altered over
the years but the basis behind it has never wavered. I am his daughter,
he is my father, and I will do anything to please him and help him with
the basic needs he requires as a man and a father.
It’s important to note my words, “I am his daughter.” If there’s one
thing I want to make perfectly clear, I am NOT my father’s lover,
girlfriend, friend with benefits, fuck buddy or anything perverted like
that. I don’t lust for him or crave sex with him just for the sake of my
own needs and desires. The ONLY reason I ALLOW my father to fuck me is
because HE wants to fuck me. I have never “seduced” my dad or in any way
sought out sex with him other than to play out my role as a loving and
willing daughter. Even when I role play for him like as a schoolgirl or
maid, it’s STILL me as his daughter and never like I was some other woman
he was cheating on my mother with.
As I mentioned, as I’ve gotten older our relationship has matured and
changed accordingly. I’m no longer sweet sixteen and instead have become
a twenty-something. Actually even at the age of sixteen I was beginning
to move out of the age range of his interests. Still, being his daughter
easily trumped the usual cutoff age for him. Regardless, I could
definitely sense a difference as our sex life became more “Adult” - if
that helps describe anything but it’s hard to put it into words. Yes, I
knew he loved fucking me as his daughter, but it was hard not to notice
that I wasn’t totally fulfilling that part of him that desired younger
girls.
I guess you could say that more or less describes my relationship with my
dad today. There is much less spontaneous sex and more reliance on
traditions to maintain. For example, when I was in high school he would
come to my room every morning for a BJ or a quick fuck, sometimes just
jerking off if I was sound asleep. Often I’d awaken with cum all over me
or to the feel of his fatherly hard dick pushing against my lips (mouth
AND pussy versions). Instead, these days we meet regularly every Sunday
just before church for a quickie. The “tradition” may have changed but
it’s the principle that matters.
Now with my husband Steve it’s a whole different ballgame. While Steve
makes love to me at times, there are plenty of others when he just
“fucks” me like he would any other woman. Steve loves to watch other men
fuck me whereas my dad has always been happy to have me all to himself.
Yes there have been times when he’s watched but in almost every case the
guy doing me had no idea that my dad was looking or that my dad would be
fucking me later. Now with Steve the other guy definitely knows - Steve
IS my husband after all!
I can't say that I ever seek out my dad just to satisfy my own arousal
needs while Steve is the first man I look when I feel that insatiable
need to get laid. Like WOW, nobody satisfies ME the way my husband can -
not even my dad. With my dad sex is a responsibility to the point of
even being a burden at times (not often but yes, there have been those
rare times). While I have those same responsibilities to please my
husband, I never feel that way when we’re doing it.
Another area where my roles and responsibilities vary between my dad and
husband involves public sex. Of course both men like it - they ARE men
after all and what man doesn’t want to screw a woman in a public place?
The real difference is HOW they want to do it.
My dad has always been all about me and him in public areas doing
something without other people catching is or even having a clue as to
what we’re doing. Dressing rooms, behind clothes racks, parking lots,
restaurant booths, you name it. The more we can observe other people as
he fucks me, the better for him but never to where we are seen. I
personally think this goes back to when he was fucking me as a teen and
the legal ramifications would have been quite significant. Although he
wouldn’t go to jail today, old habits can become really engrained.
Steve, on the other hand, is all about watching me getting fucked or
whatever in public. Whether it be on stage for a wet T-shirt contest,
sucking and fucking other men (and women) at a party, teasing guys at a
bar, or simply wearing a ridiculously skimpy bikini at the beach, he’s
never happier than when he sees other people (men AND women) watching me
and visibly lusting for me. Oh sure he enjoys his road head as much as
the next guy but he never gets off from it as much as when a trucker is
alongside watching and honking his horn.
Steve shared with me the week after Mother’s Day that he was feeling
guilty about not paying enough attention to his mother since moving out
to live with me after our wedding. Considering that the two of them had
lived under the same roof for twenty eight years, dealing with her
divorce, his brief marriage and subsequent dissolution, the cross-country
moves, and all the other challenges faced during those years, it did have
to be a bit traumatic for her to suddenly become an empty-nester. So I
offered a suggestion that he took up immediately - to spend a day with
his mother. Just the two of them without me being the wet blanket. It’s
not like anything serious was going to happen - I was quite confident of
THAT! Still, a son and his mother SHOULD spend some quality time
together every now and then.
The next weekend was one of Steve’s “split weekends” where he was off
duty all day Saturday and then had to work the full day on Sunday. Like
the other weird shifts he often works, the goal was to maximize time off
while still providing full paramedic care to the community on a 24/7
basis. I hated it most of the time but in this case it worked in our
favor as normally he wouldn’t be getting anything off this weekend. So
although I would’ve loved to spend the day with him, I was happy that he
had the chance to spend some quality time alone with his mom for once.
Rather than spend the day alone, I called up my dad and not surprisingly
my Aunt Linda answered the phone. I explained the situation to her and
asked if my dad was going to be home this coming Saturday. She paused as
she checked out their calendar on her phone and then came back with the
all-clear although I learned later she DID have plans for the two of them
but kindly deferred to me instead which I thought had been quite sweet of
her. Little wonder she’s my favorite aunt!
The rest of the week went by like a blur. Gosh, I couldn’t hardly even
remember the last time I’d spent an entire day with my dad. I wondered
if he would want me to stay the night as well. Like I hadn’t spent the
entire night alone with my dad since I’d been married. Well, not like I
would be getting much sleep if I did but you get the idea.
Chapter 2 - In-Laws
===================
Given my husband was going to spending the day with his mother while I
was with my dad, not to mention the events that occurred not long ago on
Mother’s Day, I figured people might be interested in a bit of an update.
Well... while I have little doubt there are those who probably read a lot
into what happened on Mother’s Day as being the “opening of the door” so
to speak when it comes to Steve and his mother’s sexual relationship
(including me), the truth of the matter is that things haven’t quite
lived up to such lofty expectations. In fact, it sort of reminds me of a
similar set of events that happened almost fifteen years ago...
Back when Steve and I first dated something happened that to this day is
still vivid in my mind as much as it was the night afterwards. People
who read my diary know what I’m referring to - it was the day Steve
fucked his mother for the first time. As things turned out, it was also
the LAST time that Steve fucked his mother.
I won’t go into the details here except to say things back then were such
that a series of events all culminated in a situation where people did
things that probably none of them ever anticipated could ever happen -
and regretted them afterwards. Sort of the “perfect storm” sort of
thing. It was a situation where a recently divorced mother as having
self-esteem issues after her husband and father of three children
suddenly left her for a young bimbo at work. Add to the mix a horny son
who, like just about every sixteen year-old boy, was ready to fuck anyone
with a pussy given the chance. Now put the two of them together in a
situation where the son is drilling his fourteen year-old ultra-horny
girlfriend, totally unaware that his mother is spying on everything, and
what happened next wasn’t really so unbelievable.
Since that time though, neither of them would ever discuss it with me and
if anything, it’s proven to be one of the few things that can drag Steve
and me into a serious argument. As such it was a serious concern of mine
when he was getting ready to propose to me as I knew he was opposed to
incest yet there was no way I could accept his marriage proposal if it
meant not being able to maintain my duties and responsibilities as a
daughter. I COULD decide to marry Steve or not but there was no way to
change the fact that I was my father’s daughter.
What has evolved with my husband and his mother is a bit weird, to say
the least. Steve LOVES watching me having sex with other men except for
ONE man - my dad. After witnessing my dad fucking me before he proposed
to me, he has never once since then even peeked in on us. It’s almost a
case of “don’t ask, don’t tell” in that while he doesn’t oppose my
attention to my dad’s needs, at the same time he simply doesn’t want to
discuss it or be told about it.
When it comes to Steve and his mom, THAT is what’s really odd, or at
least I think it is. Indeed, it took me quite a while to come to grips
with it and even now I still shake my head at times. Perhaps the easiest
way to explain it would be to imagine two middle-school kids making out -
lots of groping and kissing but nothing actually happening. The first
time Steve’s mom watched him fucking me after we got married I expected a
repeat of what had happened over a dozen years before... and then more.
Well, nothing could be further from what happened in that that was ALL
she did - watch. Heck, my own mother at least usually masturbated when
she watched my dad fucking me but Steve’s mom didn’t even do THAT! Not a
word, nothing. She wouldn’t even talk about it later.
Watching Steve and his mom kissing and fondling each other, I’ve always
marveled at the control each of them exercises. I know both of them to
be very sexual in nature but yet somehow their wandering hands never go
under the other’s clothes, at least not down to bare skin. True, there’s
not much difference in fondling a boob or rubbing a pussy through a thin
piece of sheer lingerie but apparently to them it DOES make a difference.
Then came Mother’s Day and what I thought to be a breakthrough when
Steve’s mom joined me and sucked off her son. Granted, I would be the
first to say that a BJ is not technically “sex” and therefore can’t be
counted as incest. In the end it didn’t make much difference though and
if anything, since that day they’ve been all the more circumspect even in
their make-out times. Granted, I don’t know for sure what goes on when
they’re alone together, but then why would they bother hiding anything?
It’s not like I wouldn’t enjoy watching after all. Granted, I’ve never
really gotten off from watching my husband having sex with other women
(it’s just not a turn-on, nothing to do with jealousy or the like) but
with his own mother... I’d make an exception for sure. Still, I would
love to have a hidden camera in her bedroom today when Steve goes to
visit...
Chapter 3 - Surprising My Dad
=============================
Given it was a Sunday, showing up at my dad’s place in the morning before
church wasn’t going to be much of a surprise. Indeed, it would’ve only
been worthy of note if I DIDN’T. If there’s one thing my dad has tried
to instill in me over the years it’s the importance of family traditions.
Visiting my dad just before church and allowing him to fill me with his
cum only minutes before the service was a tradition we’d established over
the past few years and neither of us broke from it unless absolutely
unavoidable. Of course it didn’t hurt that I loved the naughty feeling
of sitting in church just minutes after him cumming inside of me,
sometimes even leaking a bit as we sat in the pews looking so innocent.
OMG, sometimes I just wanted to shout to everyone, “My wonderful dad just
fucked me and came inside of my pussy!”
At the start of the day it was no different than any other Sunday morning
- me standing in front of my closet trying to choose an outfit to wear.
Dang, like how many years of my life have been wasted in this very
situation? More than I would care to admit for sure, LOL.
It’s like I have two wardrobes - one for work and one for everywhere else
and I really doubt that anyone would have any problems distinguishing
between them. My work clothes are what I guess I could refer to as my
“necessary evils”. It should not be any surprise to anyone for me to say
that teachers in public schools are under more scrutiny than ever these
days when it comes to teacher-student relationships. Heaven help any
teacher - female OR male, that doesn’t conform to the strict dress and
behavior rules imposed by the school board.
Basically it boils down to nothing is permitted that could possibly be
construed as “sexy” or “suggestive”. Thus underwear, both bras and
panties, are a definite requirement and that doesn’t include thongs and
lacy décolleté bras. Nothing strapless for sure and sleeveless tops and
dresses are generally forbidden except at an occasional social event with
the parents - and even then heavily frowned upon. Dresses are preferred
for women over skirts and in either case the hem has to be below the
knee. No plunging necklines and absolutely no cleavage is allowed to be
on display, even when leaning over - or maybe I should say, especially
when leaning over. That’s understandable as I know every time I lean
over to help one of the boys that his eyes go straight to my boobs,
praying for even a brief glimpse of my bra-covered breasts. I could go
on as the Code of Conduct Manual is quite thick but I think everyone
should be getting the picture by now.
One good thing, if you can call it that, is that the public schools are
at least a little less strict than the private Christian school where I
worked at in the past. Dang, back then it was like we could’ve been
mistaken for the cast of Little House on the Prairie! At least now I can
show a LITTLE leg, LOL.
So much for the boring side of my closet. One point of interest now that
I think about it... I’ve bought everything on that side. In comparison,
the rest of my closet is filled with various outfits of which well over
half have been bought by someone else. When I was younger that “someone
else” was primarily my dad although my mom sometimes surprised me. While
my father still enjoys giving me the occasional new outfit to model for
him, these days my husband is the one bringing home the majority of the
sexier outfits. It’s a different world these days so unlike my father he
doesn’t have to visit the sex stores as he can do his shopping on-line.
I guess that means in reality it’s really the FedEx and UPS man doing the
actually delivery but the principle remains the same.
As usual, my intentions were to go to church after seeing my dad which
meant I needed to choose something that would catch people’s eye but at
the same time it couldn’t be TOO inappropriate. After all, it WAS church
so some modest version of decorum had to be observed. My mother may have
raised a slut but I was a classy slut! I’ve always loved seeing the guys
stare at me, even more so the older married men chained to their
overweight wife and obnoxious kids. To have them do so in at church was
even better than at the mall.
While I love seeing the look of desire in their eyes, in some ways I
almost get more of a thrill from the reactions of their wives. Their
looks of disdain, sometimes even to the point of disgust, tell me
everything I want to know when it comes to the impact I’m having on their
husbands. Not that it bothers me in the least. Hey, it’s not MY fault
they let themselves go after marriage to the point where their frustrated
husband is looking at me instead of them.
Given it was forecasted to be a nice day in May I would have usually
chosen a light sundress or something similar - something just
inappropriate enough to get the men looking and the women clucking but
not TOO inappropriate to where I would be subjected to yet another
lecture from the church leadership. It has been years actually since my
last little “discussion” with the elders at which we reached a truce when
it came to my church attire. Still, no need to wake the sleeping dragon
as at one point it got to where they threatened to ban me from church.
Wow, my mother was SO furious! Like what church has the right to tell
people they can’t come, regardless of the reason?
Today though I wanted something special for my dad so I figured it was
time to perhaps push the line just a little more than usual. I guess
it’s a sign of my maturity at the ripe old age of 28 that I wouldn’t go
flying over the line as I was prone to do when I was younger. Still I
wanted something that would give my dad a special day to remember.
Pushing aside one outfit after another, suddenly I saw the perfect one...
It was a strapless dress in the “peasant girl” style which my dad had
bought for me years before when I’d just graduated from college and was
living at home. These days it barely contained my larger boobs and
definitely emphasized what I had on top without actually exposing
anything TOO overtly. One of the things I’d always liked about it was
how easy it was to just pull it down and over my boobs when I wanted to
tease a guy.
The dress was more of a wrap than a skirt such that it came together at
my right hip and overlapped just enough that when I was standing it
didn’t even look like there was a separation in the cloth. But then when
I would sit or twist it would part to show off my upper thigh almost all
the way up to my hip in some situations, depending on how I moved myself.
I loved it because it had that element of surprise in that when a guy
first saw it the assumption was it was relatively conservative but then
with one crossing of my legs I practically exposed my entire leg!
Underneath I chose a simple black thong with a high hip cut so it
wouldn’t be seen no matter how I allowed my dress to part. I didn’t have
a bra suitable for such an outfit as my bras tended to be at one extreme
or the other - ultra conservative and comfy for school or sexy and
naughty for home. I was about to put on a new pair of peach colored high
heels when I hesitated. Hmmmmmm, hose or not?
Now that I bring up the subject... I love the topic of panty hose when I
chat as it’s probably the one thing that most fakers aren’t ready for.
Most guys know the basics of women sizes when it comes to pants and tops
but when asked for a pantyhose size they’re stumped. After all, what guy
ever buys it? When I ask someone who I suspect to be a fake what their
pantyhose size is (usually after I’ve led up to the question after
talking about lingerie and such) I typically get one of three responses:
1. “I don’t wear any.” Such a BS answer as EVERY woman knows their
sizes regardless of whether or not they wear that particular item.
Instant confirmation of a faker.
2. A wrong size - typically a pant size. Another instant confirmation.
3. Providing a legitimate size but only after a long delay tells me
that he was smart enough to know he didn’t know the answer so he
looked it up on-line before getting back to me. Yep, another faker.
Ask any woman if she would wear pantyhose if she knew she would never be
seen by anyone and I guarantee the answer. Like most women, I don’t
really LIKE pantyhose per se yet like most women, I DO like how they make
my legs look, particularly when I don’t have my summer tan going strong.
Pasty white legs just don’t go with an expensive new dress. Also, when
it’s frightfully cold outside they do offer at least a LITTLE bit of
warmth, especially when wearing a short skirt.
Church and school are usually the only places I wear pantyhose with
church being much more rare. Still, today I wanted to look my best so
with a shrug I dropped the thong to my ankles, stepping out of it as I
dug out a pair of nude pantyhose and pulled it on before dropping my
dress over my head and tugging it over my boobs. Checking myself out in
the mirror I couldn’t help but smile as my legs DID look a lot better.
It would unlikely draw a sigh of protest from my dad when I arrived at
his house in just a few minutes but at the same time I think some guys
are turned on more when they have to undress me before having sex.
Granted, my dad isn’t one of these guys - he would have me approach him
nude every time if given the option but I doubted he would complain TOO
much so long as they didn’t stay on for long.
Fixing up my makeup and a touch of perfume, followed by selecting my
favorite cross hanging on a gold chain, and I was ready to go. The cross
was a birthday present from my dad way back when I turned fourteen. It
was beautiful with diamonds lined all along it. At the time it was the
most expensive piece of jewelry I’d ever worn except when my mom would
let me try on some of hers - under her watchful eye the whole time of
course. I love wearing it for special occasions with my dad and I hoped
he noticed it and understood WHY I was wearing it.
I glanced over at the clock next to the bed and my heart skipped a bit...
maybe even two, Damn! What had happened? It was like I’d just passed
through some sort of time warp as it had seemed just moments ago that I
had plenty of time but somehow or another I managed to have lost an hour.
I quickly grabbed my purse and car keys and hustled out to my car without
taking any more time than necessary - you try running in heels sometimes!
Dang it, would I make it in time for him to fuck me and still get to
church within a reasonable amount of tardiness?
Fortunately the police weren’t out in force and I made it to my dad’s
house without getting what would’ve been a well-deserved citation. I
parked on the street as I knew my dad would want to take his SUV to
church and with a one-lane driveway it was just take that much more time
for us to get to church while I moved my car out of the way. Hustling up
to the door, I reached for the handle but the door almost magically
opened just as I was about to pull.
“Cutting things a little close today, eh Kelly?” I heard my aunt from the
other side of the door.
“Oh hi Aunt Linda,” I responded as I glanced around, “Where’s my dad?”
There was no sense in making small talk with my aunt when I was running
so late already. Fortunately I knew she would understand and indeed
after she closed the door behind me she turned and grinned as she pointed
up the narrow staircase leading to the second floor.
“Upstairs?” I couldn’t help but ask. It wasn’t like I meant to question
her but at the same time it just surprised me a little, especially being
so late this morning.
“What can I say?” she shrugged, “He was getting all antsy down here and
it was just a few minutes ago that he went up.” She smiled somewhat
naughtily and added, “Probably jerking off if I know the bastard.”
She was just teasing so I just rolled my eyes and didn’t reply. Then
just as I turned to head upstairs she asked, “So where’s your hunk of a
husband Kelly? I was sort of hoping he might want a little MILF pussy
this morning.”
I giggled this time and replied with, “Hmmm, now who’s the one who’s
really horny? Sorry, he’s going to spend the day with his mom.”
“Oh really?” she responded with a thoughtful look but I wasn’t giving her
time to get any more details - not that I had any to give anyway. My
aunt swatted me playfully on the bottom and then grabbed my ass firmly in
her hand as she gave me a gentle nudge up the stairs.
“You’re a fuckin’ teas, you know. Now you’d better get going smarty
pants if you want to make it to church before the closing hymn.”
Well, it wasn’t going to take THAT long no matter what but still a good
suggestion. I wiggled my butt in her hand for just a moment and then
made my way quickly up the squeaky stairs. Back when I was a teen I knew
the exact route that would avoid the worst of them but there was no
reason to hide the fact I was coming this morning.
“Hi daddy,” I said in my most seductive voice as I stood in the doorway
with my hands clasped behind me. I almost laughed as my aunt had him
pegged - he was indeed jerking his dick as it poked out of his dress
pants. Then again, the odds were she would’ve been right under most any
circumstances anyway so it wasn’t like it was a risky guess.
“Sorry I’m late daddy... miss me?” I said after a brief pause. He was
looking up at me so I licked my lips seductively and wiggled my bottom
just for his viewing pleasure. God he was already soooooo hard!
Something told me we weren’t going to be late to church after all as it
want going to take long to get that rocket launched.
“Damn girl, you’re looking so pretty this morning,” he said in a low
husky voice. The bright lust in his eyes carried clearly into the thick
tone of his voice.
I loved it when my dad was in a mood like this and looked at me just as
he was now. Like any girl, I love men to look at me hungrily, knowing
that even though they don’t know anything else about me they still want
nothing more at that moment than to get on top of me and drive their
horny dicks deep inside of me. It just takes one stare from some poor
husband following his wife around the mall like a whipped puppy dog to
make my whole day.
Yet as much as it makes me shiver to see strangers look at me that way,
it means even more when it’s someone close to me doing the same. Seeing
one of my uncles sneaking a look up my skirt while my clueless aunts
aren’t looking is so hot, especially when I know that there’s more than
just a stare waiting for me. Of course I get excited when my husband
gives me that look. As his wife I want to appeal to him now just as much
as I did on the day he married me. None of this letting myself go to pot
just because I got the ring thing for me. MY husband might still stare
at other women but it wasn’t because he wasn’t getting enough at home.
All that said, there is ONE man who can give me “the look” that makes me
feel like no other man can... my dad. I can still remember how as a
young girl he would look at me that way when I joined him naked in the
hot tub, or how his eyes would lock on me when I was just wearing a short
skirt or skimpy bikini. It was so exciting to gauge his reaction when I
would model one of the sexy outfits he would bring home just for me. And
to think that all that was before we even started having sex! Indeed, I
didn’t even knew then that he wanted such a thing with me. Heck, I was
just thrilled that I was growing up enough to look sexy even to my own
father. Quite a compliment for a young teenager who was uncertain of her
own sexual attraction.
Yes, I’ll NEVER forget the look in my father’s eyes the day he first came
into my bedroom with the intent to fuck me. We both knew why he was
there even though neither of us has actually said anything beforehand.
It took just one glimpse of those smoldering eyes staring at my nude body
and I knew without any doubt what he wanted, what he was going to do, and
that at that point there was nothing that I could do to stop him - not
that I wanted him to. It was somewhat ironic in that just a few weeks
earlier I’d never even thought about sex with my dad yet at that moment
there was no dick in the world that I wanted more than his to fill me.
That look grew even more intense when he first entered me, It was the
first time my father and I joined together in the most intimate
expression of our love for one another. It wasn’t the same love that he
had for my mother just as it wasn’t the love I thought I had for my
boyfriend at the time. No, it was the type of love that only a father
and his daughter can share.
Today as I stood in front of my horny father I once again saw that look
that I knew only I ever was given the privilege to see - the look of his
wanton desire for his only daughter. Well of course he wanted me
sexually - he WAS a man after all and I think I can say without sounding
too self-centered that most men feel that way when they see me. This was
something more though, something more than just the raw lust of a man for
a woman. I was his daughter and he wanted me. As his daughter, what
more could I possibly ask?
Even though I was running late, I felt compelled to respond to my
father’s desires so without another word I started to strip in front of
him, turning slowly as I did as I pulled my dress over my head to expose
my bare breasts.
“Pantyhose?” I heard him whisper softly, more to himself I think than to
me. He seemed so disappointed and I almost giggled as I knew he would
have that exact reaction. Yeah, men can be SOOOOO predictable.
It was then that I realized a potentially fatal flaw in my plans. It had
been my intention to leave my heels on after taking everything else off
as I knew my dad, like most every heterosexual man in the world, got
extremely turned on seeing me wearing nothing but my heels. For whatever
reason men seem to think it’s even better than me being completely naked.
It reminds of something I once heard from some movie star who said
something like, “When I come home alone the FIRST thing I do is take off
my heels. When I come home with a man, the LAST thing I take off is my
heels.”
Well, unless I took off my heels it was against the laws of physics for
me to remove my hose with my heels still on. Like how did I overlook
something so obvious? My mind raced and then the proverbial light bulb
went off over my head. Why not just pretend that this was part of my
plan from the start? As my mom always said, when you’re served a lemon,
make lemonade!
Walking over to my dad I just ignored the pantyhose and knelt between his
knees. I looked up and our eyes met as he continued to slowly stroke his
dick which by now was firm and erect. Placing one hand just above each
knee, I smiled at my father.
“What do you want daddy?” I asked as if there was any question, “Tell me
what you need.”
First, I knew he loved it when I called him “daddy” even though I was now
28 and long past the age when most girls would call their father by that
moniker. In normal conversation I typically just called him “dad” but
this was a special time between the two of us.
Of course it was a leading question yet just as I loved seeing him look
at me with such intense sexual desire, so too I doubt I’ll ever grow
weary of my father telling me of his hunger for me. Indeed, the way he
slowly licked his lip and stared down at me it was as if someone had
placed a fresh steak in front of a ravenous wolf. Then I heard those
words I so craved...
“I need YOU baby girl,” he whispered huskily, “Oh God I need you so badly
right now.” He paused and then groaned as his lust too over adding,
“Suck it... put that beautiful mouth on your daddy’s cock. Be daddy’s
good little girl.”
Yes, I WAS his good little girl, at least when it came to sex. From that
first time he’d fucked me over twelve years before I’d ALWAYS been good
when it came to this. OK, so maybe I wasn’t exactly perfect when it came
to most other things but at least I was batting a thousand when it came
to submitting to his most personal wants and desires. And now I was
going to show him yet again just how good a girl I could be.
“Oh yeah... just like that,” he groaned loudly as my lips circled his
erect dick as he held it firmly by the base.
My tongue teased the tip of his head and flicked all around it, paying
special attention to the sensitive underside of the ridge. Keeping my
hands on his thighs, I slowly worked by way down his shaft, taking a
little more and then backing off before taking even more of it in my
mouth until I felt it pressing against the back of my throat.
Fortunately my father was about average in the dick department so there
wasn’t a lot more left making it relatively easy to relax and take the
rest of his dick down my throat briefly before rising up to left about
half of it escape.
“Damn you do that so well,” he said as I repeated the movement several
times before keeping just the head in my mouth.
The musky odor of my father’s hairy crotch was almost overwhelming as he
grew more and more aroused, leading me to take him all in again until his
thick public hair was pressed against my cheeks while I took his entire
stiff dick in my mouth.
Personally, had it been up to me I’d of sucked my dad’s dick all morning
but I knew time was short and as tempting as it was at the moment to blow
off church, I didn’t want to miss it. Still, there’s just something so
incredibly erotic about sucking a guy’s cock... like I have him totally
under my control for those brief few minutes.
It was time to make my decision and I made what I knew to be the right
one, even if a good part of me was telling me to do otherwise. Letting
his stiff shaft slip from my lips, I looked up at my dad and smiled again
at him.
“Do you wanna fuck me now daddy?”
Another “duh” question but isn’t this what makes for good sex - the two
people communicating their needs to one another? It’s not like I
expected him to say no or even hesitate. Heck, I don’t think there has
EVER been a time when he’s responded negatively whenever I’ve offered
myself sexually to him. Still, I wanted him to say it. Heck, I NEEDED
him to say it. I needed to hear my dad declare his love for me. I mean
like any guy can say “I love you” all day but nothing seals the deal like
“I want to fuck you,” especially when it’s coming from your own father.
My dad didn’t hesitate a moment as he reached out to grab my bare upper
arms and lift me upwards saying, “Oh you know it Kelly... Now sit on my
lap and be daddy’s good little girl.”
It was then the pantyhose issue arose but by now my dad was so aroused he
wasn’t about to let such a minor thing get in the way. I suppose another
time or place he might have just pulled them down but instead he reached
between my thighs and literally ripped a hole between them, followed by
stretching the material with both hands until my crotch was exposed to
him.
“Mmmmmmm, I love you letting it grow out,” he murmured as he grabbed me
by the ass with both hands and pulled me into him.
What he was referring to was the ever-thickening patch of pubic hair
covering my pussy. For over a decade I’ve been shaving my crotch but for
whatever reason I decided to let it grow out for winter this year. It’s
not like I had to worry about how it looked in a bikini or super short
shorts after all. Of course I trimmed it so I didn’t look like a total
cave girl but it was more on the edges to keep it from spilling out past
my panties than in reducing the fullness. I figured what the heck. If I
was going to let it grow out then may as well let it go all the way.
Steve wasn’t all too sure I think about it all but as for my dad, he was
thrilled and each week when I’d stop over before church he’d comment
about how much thicker it was than the week before.
My dad scooting back onto the bed so I could move up and straddle him.
Putting my hands on his shoulders for support, I lifted myself up until
my wet pussy was positioned directly over his pulsating erection. Then I
dropped down slowly until I felt the head pressing against my crotch.
Positioning myself carefully, I rocked on his lap to allow his hard dick
to rub up against my pussy so as to excite my clit.
“Stop teasing me and sit on it,” he said gruffly as I felt his large
hands grip my buttocks tighter.
I kissed my dad, letting my tongue reach out to meet his as my right hand
moved down between my legs to spread myself open enough for his dick to
properly position itself. When I felt it pressing up against my pussy
hole I dropped down onto it, feeling that intense surge of passion as my
father’s incestuous cock finally penetrated me.
Now I would say that I pretty much love most of anything when it comes to
being fucked but if I had to pick my favorite then it would come to two
things which I wouldn’t even try to separate in terms of priority - the
moment the guy’s dick first enters me and the first surge of sperm as he
cums in me. Feeling my father’s erection force its way into my wet
pussy, spreading me apart, it was like at first it wasn’t going to happen
but then my pussy expanded and accepted the invader. His head popped
into me and then I felt it fill me as I sat down until my full weight was
on his lap with my hose-covered ass now against his pants.
“God you feel so good around me,” my father sighed as we finally ended
our kiss and I began to ride his dick like I was riding a horse.
His hand released my butt and moved up to my boobs which were bouncing
now as I rocked on my daddy’s incestuous erection. I leaned back enough
so he could take my nipples in his mouth, moving from one to the other as
he sucked on me. God they were SOOOOO sensitive! I was so damn horny
that I came almost immediately.
“That’s it baby girl, cum... cum for your daddy,” my father encouraged me
as he felt my pussy clamping down on his cock like a vise. God I felt so
good, as if my body temperature suddenly skyrocketed and I tingled all
over.
“Make me cum harder daddy... do it like only you can,” I begged him as I
cried out with the pure pleasure of my orgasm.
Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly I guess when you think about
it, my father also started to cum as I felt that faint surge in me as he
erupted deep inside of my pussy. Wow, just goes to show just how horny
he must have been to cum so quickly!
Why guys like to spurt their cum on a girl’s face or boobs, or shoot in
into their mouth or on their butt, or heaven forbid - in the ass, well
It’s a mystery to me. Sure I let them do it as after all, it gets them
off and I love to please a guy. Still, if anyone were to ask me where I
wanted it there was just one response - in my pussy. Like, isn’t that
where God intended? Besides the obvious reasons - it’s a huge mess, it
gets sticky and smelly so fast, it’s damn near impossible to get out of
your hair, etc. I just feel that if a man really cares about ME then he
will cum in my pussy. All the rest is for HIS fantasy. Frankly, I blame
the porn industry for making every man think that women want it on their
face every time.
I sat down hard on my dad’s lap, pushing his spurting cock as deep inside
of me as it would go, wanting nothing more than to have his love inside
of me. This was the moment I wanted, the feeling that overrides
everything else. Oh yeah, my DAD was mating me. Forget for the moment
he’d been fixed. So what if the last thing I ever wanted was to actually
bear my father’s child. What mattered was that he was mating me so far
as his desires and actions were concerned. It wasn’t the results of such
a union that I wanted, it was the act of him doing it that made me feel
so special.
As my father’s ejaculations ended, he put his arms around me and pulled
me in tight so that my boobs were crushed against his hairy chest. I
buried my face in his shoulder against his neck as I listed to his
catching his breath, neither of us able to speak for the moment. Then I
pulled back and looked down, mesmerized for the moment at the sight of my
father’s cock as it disappeared inside of me. I could see rivulets of
his sperm as it leaked from my pussy around his shaft and pooled on his
pubic hair. Mmmmmmm, talk about the most erotic sight...
“Now THIS is heaven,” he whispered in my ear as I looked back up and say
the expression of pure satisfaction on his face.
Once again we kissed and I could feel his dick throbbing inside of me. I
guess maybe there is something to be said for the stamina of a teenage
boy as I knew so far as fucking me was concerned, my dad was finished for
the morning.
“I love you daddy,” I said to my father, “You make me feel so good.”
“Well it’s not like the feeling isn’t mutual baby girl.”
Just then my aunt called up the stairs, reminding us that we were already
late for church. Oh well, what choice did we have?
Lifting myself up, I watched as my dad’s now limp dick flopped out of me,
followed by a flood of sperm and my own cum. My pantyhose was ruined but
I guess it was my fault for wearing it in the first place. It wasn’t
like I’d paid all that much for it anyways. As I moved off his lap to
stand a bit unsteadily on the floor, I smiled at the sight of my dad’s
dick... all wet with the combination of my cum and his sperm. As
tempting as it was to lean over and lick it clean, I knew that once I
headed down THAT road that we’d never make it to church!
In the bathroom I took stock of my messy pantyhose. Well, at least they
weren’t one of my more expensive fishnet pair but then I wouldn’t be
wearing those to church in the first place. Even though I’d decided
earlier that going to church bare-bottomed wasn’t an option, it appeared
that now I was left with no other choice. If it was just a matter of
ripped hose it wouldn’t have been that big an issue as who would be
seeing my crotch in the first place. No, the real problem was the mess
created that had now seeped into the nylon fabric including a couple of
spots on my inner thighs where I’d dripped when getting up and walking to
the bathroom.
Once I was dressed I returned to the bedroom to find my dad had already
headed downstairs. Well, hopefully he’d at least cleaned himself off
with something beforehand as he hadn’t joined me in the bathroom.
Perhaps he knew too that if he had we might not have left in time to make
it to church.
Looking in the mirror, I straightened out my hair and smiled as I took
stock of the woman looking back at me.
“You’re a Daddy fucker,” I whispered to myself. Yep, that’s exactly what
I was and proud of it!
Chapter 4 - Church
==================
As usual I left my car behind and rode to church with my dad in his SUV.
Hopping in the passenger seat, my dress rode up but I didn’t make any
effort to pull it down which gave him a pretty good view of almost half
my upper thigh. With the split in the side it made it especially
revealing from his vantage point. I saw my dad glancing over at me as we
pulled out onto the street and headed towards the main road.
“You know Kelly, seeing you sitting there like that reminds me of back
when you were still in high school,” he reminisced.
Grinning back at him, I just shrugged as if I had no idea what he was
talking about.
“Yeah, I remember when you would wear those crazy short sundresses to
church,” he sighed, “I couldn’t believe your mother even let you out of
the house in those, let alone go to church wearing them.”
Just then we stopped at an intersection and without warning he reached
over and lifted up my skirt and pulled it up to reveal my bare bottom.
“Yep, just like the old days,” he laughed as he rubbed my upper thigh,
“You never were one for wearing panties, were you?”
It was true, even as a little girl I’ve always had this almost
pathological aversion to anything tight around me down there. My mom,
more a traditionalist when it came to bras and panties, finally gave up
trying to force me to wear panties at home although she DID put her foot
down when it came to school. Once I entered high school she seemed to
relent a bit though and I have to admit I took full advantage to her
mellowing ways.
Not really sure if my dad was being rhetorical or really expecting an
answer, I answered rather coyly, “Not that you ever seemed to mind
daddy.”
Pulling his hand back as he took off again, he chuckled at that. “You
had no idea back then just how much it turned me on. God, seeing you
running around the house back then in nothing but a t-shirt... special
memories, that’s for sure.”
Actually in some ways I DID have an idea at the time, just not in the way
he perhaps had wanted. Even at just nine or ten years old it wasn’t like
I didn’t know what an erection was or what one meant. Then again my mom
had also taught me that such things were beyond the control of a guy so
it wasn’t like I’d interpreted his arousal as an indication that he
actually wanted to have sex with me. For me it was just a matter of
personal validation and the building of my self-confidence - especially
when I was around thirteen or fourteen. It was an age where it was hard
to feel good about my body image, especially when it seemed all my
friends had bigger boobs and more pubic hair.
OK, so while technically I HAD known it turned him on for me to run
around bottomless, he was more or less correct in what he was saying so
far as I was clueless as to his true feelings and desires for me.
“Well at least now you get to fuck me before church,” I teased him,
pulling my dress up and spreading my legs apart for him as I rubbed my
finger up and down my wet slit. “You wanted to fuck me though, didn’t
you daddy... you wanted to fuck me when I was thirteen, isn’t that right
daddy? I bet you wanted to do me right there in church if you could.”
Well, maybe so but seeing him take a series of quick looks at me as I
masturbated next to him, I could tell from the way he was squirming in
his seat to adjust himself that he wanted to do me right now as well!
“Thirteen, twelve... hell I would’ve done you that day you first
masturbated on the couch in front of us if your mother hadn’t put the
kibosh on everything. God you turned me on so much! It was like you
were so innocent back then yet so incredibly sexy.”
Unfortunately we’d just arrived at church as I was enjoying where our
conversation was heading. It had been quite a while since my dad had
taken a trip down memory lane so to speak and I loved knowing more each
time about how he’d felt about me back then. Dang, if only I’d known
back then what I knew now. It was hard to even begin to imagine how
different my life might have turned out.
“Ummmmm... there are some wipes in the glove department...” he started to
say, obviously in reference to the wetness on my fingers and pussy.
Heck, even I could smell my sex and it really wouldn’t do to go in church
reeking of pussy.
As we made our way from the parking lot I took my dad’s arm and walked
proudly next to him. My pussy was tingling something fierce and I loved
the way it felt to be naked under my dress as we passed various families.
Like wow, what would they say if they had any idea what my dad had just
done to me not twenty minutes ago? Better yet, how would those husbands
react if they knew I was NOT wearing underwear, or if they had any
inkling of just how horny I was at just that moment or for who I was
horny FOR?
The usher was just as clueless as he led us down to an opening about a
third of the way from the front on the right hand side with me going in
first so my dad could have aisle seat. That was just fine with me as
similar to the arrangement in the SUV, this allowed me to cross my left
leg over my right, allowing the slit in the skirt to part and ride up
showing a peek of almost two-thirds of my now bare upper thigh. The
usher looked down and I saw his eyes widen just a little as he stared and
then quickly walked away making a scene.
“Now behave yourself young lady,” my dad whispered in my ear, pretending
to be stern.
“Oh daddy, I’m not thirteen anymore,” I responded, pretending to be
annoyed.
“Exactly my point,” he came back, this time winking at me.
Indeed, he had a point. It’s sort of ironic how much I was able to get
away with as a young teen as compared to now as a young mother. Well,
maybe not SO young anymore but then 28 isn’t exactly middle age. Still,
when I was in my early teens I got away with murder although I didn’t
really appreciate just how much until years later. Like I could wear
just about ANYTHING when I was twelve or thirteen and the response was
more about my mom’s parenting than anything personal about me. In
contrast, had anyone known I was bottomless today I would most likely be
labeled a slut. Not that THAT was necessarily a bad thing, just it was
directed at ME now instead of my mom. Heck, if anything odds were it
would just reinforce the image most people already had of me - one that I
had worked for years to cultivate.
But then today wasn’t about flashing the ushers or teasing some poor
husband sitting next to his fat wife. Noooooo, today was all about my
dad so if there was anything I could do to please him then I was all-in.
Now if that just happened to garner the attention of anyone else then
that would be just a bonus.
We’d only been there a moment it seemed when we had to stand for the
opening hymn. As the organ grew loud I held the hymnal with my dad and
lifted myself on my toes so I could whisper in his ear.
“I bet you want to fuck me right now, don’t you daddy?”
He rolled his eyes and jabbed me with his elbow slightly but at the same
time he couldn’t suppress the grin, let alone the hungry look in his
eyes. It certainly wasn’t the look most fathers around us had for their
daughters although I wouldn’t be surprised if more than a few were trying
not to let anyone see what they were staring at.
God I was so damn horny! My pussy felt like it was going to scream if it
didn’t get some attention... and soon. Like it hadn’t been all that long
since my dad had cum in me and I was willing to bet that enough time had
passed to where he was ready for Round 2.
After the hymn and some opening words and prayer, it was time for the
greeting ritual to where everyone went around to greet others and shake
hands. Church was pretty crowded today and for the first time I paid
attention to those around us. To my right was a woman I hadn’t met
before. She looked a little familiar so odds were I seen her here before
but I didn’t know her name. I was guessing fifties, maybe even late
sixties. I turned to say hello and she gave me the once over and it was
obvious from her initial expression that she wasn’t exactly impressed.
Then she quickly gathered herself and put on that fake smile worn by so
many people every Sunday morning as she pretended to be all happy and
non-judgmental - exactly the opposite of what I suspected to be reality.
“Nice to meet you... Kelly you say?” she replied after I introduced
myself.
She seemed about to say something else but my dad poked me on the
shoulder so I turned to see what he wanted. Standing in the aisle was a
face I hadn’t seen in years...
“Kelly, do you remember Mr. Gardner?” he asked as he leaned back to give
me a better look.
“Oh John, she’s not a little girl anymore,” he said with a chuckle, “Hi
Kelly, please call me Bill.”
Holy smokes, I couldn’t believe it. It had been years since I’d seen
Bill after he’d retired from my dad’s law firm. As for remembering him,
like how could I ever forget? You see, Bill was the first married man to
ever fuck me. In fact, he even fucked me before my dad did!
Yes, it was back when I was fifteen and in heavy demand as a babysitter.
My dad had volunteered me to sit for the Gardner kid (he was definitely
“Mr. Gardner” back then). It’s all in my diary but to summarize quickly
it turned out to be something more fitting for “Dear Penthouse”. In
fact, thirteen years later I now had a hard time believing myself that it
all actually had happened.
First a disclaimer... As a babysitter I NEVER did anything even remotely
inappropriate with ANY of the kids I sat, and that’s not even using my
standards when it comes to defining “appropriate”. Fathers, on the other
hand, were fair game. Many a time I remember being driven home and
flashing some poor horny father, wondering if he would masturbate later
about having sex with me. Of course I never actually DID anything with
them, at least not most of them. After all, they were OLD and until my
night with Bill the oldest guys I’d done were the boys at high school and
the church youth groups.
That said, it’s not like I was an angel when I babysat. One of my
favorite things to do as a babysitter was to rummage around through the
parents’ private things. It was amazing what I would find sometimes as
you may imagine. Sometimes I even tried on some of the wife’s sexier
lingerie and masturbate on their bed as I imagined myself being caught by
them when they returned home. It was all good clean fun and so far as I
knew the parents had always remained clueless. No harm, no foul...
right?
Hot tubs have always been a source of entertainment for me and the
Gardners had one. With the kid confirmed to be sound asleep in bed I was
naked and enjoying the feel of jets on my pussy when I was surprised by
Mr. Gardner who returned home alone early. Well, without going into all
the details, I was fucked by my first married man and as anyone who knows
anything about me should know, that was the start of what has been an
obsession with me ever since.
As things turned out it was the first - and last time the that two of us
did anything and I don’t think he ever knew that my dad learned soon
after what had happened. Like of course I told my parents immediately
afterwards, just as I did after just about all of my early sexual
encounters. As for whether or not my dad had revealed that he knew about
what happened, I think he never did so as not to embarrass Bill. Judging
from how things were going today, my gut feeling was that I’d been
correct so if he remembered what we’d done (and how could he ever forget)
then he wasn’t letting on.
“Oh yeah, now I remember,” I exclaimed softly as I pretended not to
recall at first. Looking at Bill in the eyes I added, “If I recall, it
was a pretty good night. You gave me quite a tip!”
Bill’s eyes averted from mine quickly and I could have sworn his cheeks
reddened a little. As for my dad, he played along and didn’t make any
mention that might have given a clue that he knew what had gone on
between us or even that he noticed how uncomfortable his friend had
suddenly become.
“Well Bill, I hope you’re enjoying Florida and remember, you’re always
welcome back at the office,” my dad said as they shook hands again.
“And if you ever need another babysitter, you know who to call,” I added
in not being able to resist a little tease.
Bill tried to laugh it off replying, “Well, I don’t think the missus and
I need a babysitter anymore.”
Wow, I could have gone in all sorts of directions with that lead-in but
it was time to take a seat again so everyone quieted down and sat in
their pew. I crossed my leg again, this time allowing my dress to open a
little more than before. My dad had his hand on the pew between us and
left it there as I nudged closer to him such that the side of his hand
was now pressed against my bare upper thigh. Nobody could see anything
with his hand almost completely under my leg but I could feel his fingers
moving against me.
Again my pussy practically shook as I felt my dad’s hand under my leg.
God I would’ve loved it if his hand had been on top of my leg instead,
working its way between my thighs down to my ready and waiting pussy.
All the more so if he did it now in the middle of church. Actually in
the past he HAD done this but that was back in the colder days of winter
when we had the benefit of winter coats to hide his efforts. It also
helped when things weren’t as crowded unlike today where everyone was
smashed together like sardines.
The rest of the service went rather uneventfully. I tried to make it a
point to make littler suggestive remarks to my dad whenever I could get
away with it but other than that it was simply too crowded for us to
actually do anything. Oh well, I guess you can’t always have everything.
After the service we joined the line to greet the pastor and his wife as
they shook everyone’s hand. I got just a nod from the pastor but his
bitch of a wife was in her usual full self-righteous mode.
“Good morning Kelly,” she greeted me with ice behind her forced smile, “I
see some things never change, do they?”
She was looking down at my dress and I knew she was telling me she didn’t
approve. What she didn’t seem to realize was that when idiots like her
tell me they disapprove of me or my actions that it just makes me want to
go even further the next time. So far as I knew she didn’t have a clue
about what me and my dad did but she certainly had her opinion of my
behaviors and past escapades as part of the youth groups. Just imagine
if she had known what I was doing with the youth pastor back then!
“Let’s go Kelly,” my dad nudged me. As we made our way outside he shook
his head in mock despair saying, “You were about to say something you
know you shouldn’t back there, weren’t you?”
“You mean to Bill?”
My dad shook his head, pretending to be stern with me. “Don’t pretend
you don’t know what I’m talking about. The poor guy looked like he was
going to have a stroke.”
“Oh daddy, you know I would NEVER say anything I shouldn’t,” I giggled.
“Yeah right,” was all he had to say in response but I could tell he was
actually pleasantly amused. I wonder if he would’ve been turned on even
more if I’d asked the preacher’s wife if she wasn’t wearing panties, like
me. Well, of course he would have but then there ARE some things you
just can’t say in church, no matter how tempting.
Soon we were back to his place and he hugged me before I got in my car.
“Soooooo, 8:00 then?”
“Yep, I’ll be waiting daddy.”
I drove off, wishing the clocks would turn faster!
Chapter 5 - Date Night
======================
I have to say one thing about my dad that I can never complain about -
he’s ALWAYS on time. Obviously that’s not something that gets passed in
the DNA, or at least it certainly missed me. It use to exasperate him to
no end when I was growing up and seemingly always late for everything.
Thankfully my period was never one of those times. However, tonight was
one time I was waiting and ready when his SUV pulled up to the curb. As
tempting as it was to run out to greet him, I patiently waited behind the
door for him to park and come up to the door to escort me.
Well, maybe I wasn’t ALL that patient but who could blame me? It had
been ages, or at least so it seemed, since my dad had taken me out on a
private date and I’d spent all afternoon masturbating and dreaming as
memories of our past father-daughter dates ran through my mind.
I’ll always remember our first date night way back when I was just
fourteen. Although neither of my parents ever said anything about it, at
the time I didn’t think it was a coincidence that he asked me just a
couple of weeks after I started having sex with my boyfriend for the
first time. Back then I figured it was just my daddy trying to keep his
maturing daughter as his “Little girl” but years later when I learned
about his true feelings for me at the time I came to the understanding it
was something much more personal and intimate. Still, as much as I know
now that he wanted so terribly to fuck me, our dates were totally
innocent, at least so far as anything like sex went.
Well, to be fair that’s not to say our early dates were all THAT
innocent. One of the reasons I looked so forward to them was he always
bought me a new outfit to wear which he would “surprise” me with the day
of our date - not that it was much of a true surprise after the first
couple of times. It wasn’t anything like I wore a see-through top or
went without underwear but I would say most people would likely have
described the outfits as “inappropriate”. Of course that’s what I loved
about them as by that time I was actively working on earning my “slut
card” as my dad liked to tease me. Invariably it was either a skirt or
blouse although one time he did give me a shockingly short pair of
cutoffs the time he took me to the local amusement park. Put together
with a tight thin tube top which showed off my nipples like Saran Wrap
and I got more than a few stares not just from the boys but from their
moms and dads as well.
Things changed of course once My dad and I started having sex. In some
ways it was much better for us both in that I got even sexier outfits to
wear while he didn’t have to hide his true desires from me anymore.
There were more than a few times when my mom, who had never protested in
the least about my earlier outfits and if anything, encouraged him to be
even more risqué, actually made mention that perhaps we were pushing the
line a bit. I think the cheerleader outfit was probably the one she
shook her head at the most. We were going to a local restaurant on game
night where people from all different schools gathered and often there
were girls still in their cheerleader outfits. Well, mine wasn’t quite
like the others in that my skirt was even shorter and in place of the
standard wide panties I was wearing just a thong. The top was cut VERY
low exposing as much cleavage as I could muster at that age while
exposing my entire midriff as well. Nobody said anything directly to us
but I just loved the way the other fathers and boyfriends looked at me.
My dad was so proud that I thought his shirt buttons were going to burst.
I wonder if anyone had any idea that he was not only my father but that
he was fucking me before and after our date that night was well?
Once I went off to college date nights became few and far between. Since
I married Steve they’ve dwindled down to just a few a year and our last
one was now almost six months ago. Of course Steve knew that “date
night” was just a euphemism for “sex night” when it came to me and my
dad. While he never complained or even hinted at anything, I knew he
wasn’t a fan of incest, or at least when it came to his own family.
Like so many guys make claim to me, Steve was vehemently opposed to being
involved with incest when it came to his own family yet when it came to
other fathers and their daughters, wild horses couldn’t drag him away
from watching them having sex and the younger the daughter the better it
was so far as he was concerned. Compared to the guys I chat with, at
least Steve’s actions mirror his words. Heck, when he and I first
started having sex his own sister was jealous as hell of me and did
everything she could to try and seduce him short of jumping on top of him
in bed (although I think she even contemplated doing that!). Never once
did he reciprocate and if anything, he would get angry after her more
obvious attempts.
Then there was Steve and his mother. While they seem to have no problem
making out like teenagers, their groping and fondling never crosses a
certain line. Like, never under the underwear sort of line. Frankly it
drives me nuts to watch but it seems to be something they worked out
between themselves years ago and I guess it works for them so who am I to
say anything about it?
While my husband and I have an “understanding” when it comes to incest in
my family, I respect his morals and try my best not to rub it in his face
when it comes to me and my dad. Interestingly, it doesn’t seem to bother
him nearly as much when he sees me and my mom together but I think that
has more to do with the fact he LOVES fucking my mom whereas he (and my
dad) and pathologically straight when it comes to sex. Steve doesn’t
even care for threesomes, or at least when it involves two guys. Two
women - fine with him though. I have to smile sometimes as he’s such a
typical guy when it comes to sex!
Tonight I was wearing the latest new outfit my dad had bought for me - as
I always did. It was waiting at my doorstep when I arrived home earlier
and I couldn’t hardly wait to get inside and open it. The box wasn’t
that big nor did it need to be as it turned out. The dress was neatly
folded and I instantly fell in love with it from the first moment I held
it up in front of me as I face the mirror. It seemed to weigh almost
nothing which was due in part to the material but mostly to fact that
there wasn’t a whole lot of it. It was a little unusual in that it came
over just one shoulder while leaving the other bare. With the one should
strap it allowed the bust line to dive dramatically across my boobs to
within less than an inch above my nipple on the opposite side. From there
it continued down allowing for some nice “side boob” as well as plenty of
bare back. The hem line, while a little longer than usual when it came to
my father’s tastes, allowed for a slit side than came well up my hip
requiring the matching thong (thoughtfully provided as well) to ride up
even higher so as not to be exposed every time I twisted or turned.
Trying it on for the first time in my bedroom, I hadn’t bothered with the
thong which only demonstrated how essential it was to wear SOMETHING
underneath as I couldn’t sit or bend over without the dress parting and
exposing everything. I suppose that’s one reason why my father has a
thing for dresses with side slits in them. There was no bra in the
package and for good reason - there was nothing that would have worked
underneath this dress given the low cut and daring plunge. Then again,
if there HAD been a bra it would have been a first as my dad absolutely
hated me to wear one! The only time he’d ever bought me one was the time
he gave me a sheer white silk shirt with a black bra to wear under it.
One thing NOT in the box was shoes but then that was to be expected as
well. My dad loved to take me shopping for shoes but I knew it wasn’t
the shoes he was interested in but more how I would tease the poor guys
helping me try them on. With no guys to watch... what was the point in
fooling with them? Besides, it wasn’t like my closet wasn’t well
stocked. In this case I had the perfect pair - black open toe with five
inch stiletto heels.
While I had a light jacket to wear for the evening, I deliberately chose
not to wear it at first and was rewarded with a wolf whistle and leering
smile from my dear father as he came in through the door to greet me.
“Damn! Now THAT is one hot outfit,” he said softly as his eyes ran up
and down, “I’d say that whoever bought you that had terrific taste,
wouldn’t you agree?”
“Oh daddy!” I sighed in reply as I reached out to hug him.
My father’s strong arms wrapped around me and I felt his hands clench my
butt after they had pulled up the dress. With the thin thong it was like
I wasn’t wearing anything so far as my rear end was concerned so it felt
good to feel him grabbing my bare ass in his large hands.
“Here... something to go with that outfit,” he said as he reached into
his suit jacket pocket.
“Oh DADDY!” I exclaimed as he opened the box to reveal a beautiful gold
chain with an incredibly gold cross filled with diamonds. Compared to
the one he’d given me as a teen, it was twice the size and the diamonds
looked to be twice as brilliant. It was unbelievably pretty and most
likely just as unbelievably expensive. Then again, it wasn’t like he
couldn’t afford it. My dad may not be filthy rich but he certainly
didn’t lack for anything.
“Here, let me help with that,” he said as he put it around my neck and
fastened the clasp, “there, now you look perfect... not that you didn’t
already mind you!”
What could I say? Well, I couldn’t think of anything so I just reached
up, put my arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. Our tongues
met as we enjoyed each other’s embrace.
“Oh daddy, I love you,” I whispered softly.
“And I love you too Kelly.”
With that he reached over for my jacket and helped me to put it on.
Without further ado he escorted me out to this SUV and opened the door
for me while offering his and for assistance. With the heels I was
wearing it was certainly appreciated!
One of the things I loved about my dad’s SUV was that unlike so many cars
today - and trucks as well, it had a bench seat in front instead of the
typical bucket seats meaning there was no center console to get in the
way. I scooting over past the middle so when he took his place behind
the wheel I was right there by his side with my legs folded up under me
on the seat. I suppose I should have been wearing a seat belt but they
just got in the way... if you know what I mean.
“So... where are we going?” I asked eagerly. It was a useless question
as he never told me but it was like I felt I had to ask anyway. Sure
enough, I got the usual response...
“My little girl will just have to patient,” he answered in his best
“fatherly” tone. Then he reached down and put his hand on my upper thigh
which was exposed thanks to the slit in the side of my dress. “Of course
we both know patience is NOT one of your better virtues.”
We both laughed at that but anyone who knows me would have had to agree
with him. Just to prove his point, I reached over and placed my hand on
his crotch, pressing down firmly with my fingers in search of the dick I
knew so well underneath.
“Yep, definitely not a virtue,” he chuckled as he glanced down first at
his lap and then smiled at me. “But then, not that I’m complaining.”
As he drove on towards the tunnel I couldn’t help but remember one of the
first times I’d given my dad “road head” and it just happened to be when
we were going through this very same tunnel. Back then we were heading
to his office for a “take your daughter to work” day which eventually
became a “fuck your daughter at work” day but on the way there I’d blown
him until he finally came just as we entered the downtown parking garage.
Well, I’d like to think that over the past ten years my skills have
improved quite a bit such that I can get the job done a little faster
when necessary. Then again, my dad is also ten years older as well so
perhaps that might balance things out. Oh well, I guess there was only
one way to find out...
“Now just what do you think you’re doing naughty girl?” my dad asked,
pretending to be surprised as I started to unzip his pants, “You know,
good girls don’t do this sort of thing.”
“Your point being?” I teased him back as I reached in and felt around for
his dick. Not that it was all that difficult given he was already
sporting quite the erection.
“True, true,” he sighed as he adjusted his position to help me pull his
cock out through his pants. Fortunately he’d been thoughtful enough not
to wear any underwear which made my task considerably easier.
“Oh shit!” he gasped quietly as I leaned over and took the smooth silky
head of his dick in my mouth. My tongue worked its way around the lip,
just as knew he loved me to do.
“You know, one of these days I’m going to crash into somebody when you’re
doing this,” he pretended to protest as I took his cock deep into my
mouth. He had a point as I guess it WOULD be a little incriminating when
the rescue team saw his dick poking out through his pants while working
to extricate my head from the steering wheel!
“So you want me to stop daddy?” I taunted him as I worked his dick with
my hand while looking up at him as I ran my tongue over my lips
seductively.
“Now why would I EVER say anything so ridiculous as that?” he pointed out
as he merged with the traffic heading into the tunnel. I had to catch
myself as he made the sudden turn so it was probably fortunate I didn’t
have my teeth around his dick at that moment!
“Oh yeah... just like that,” he groaned as I started to suck him
seriously, “God you know how to make you daddy feel good!”
Well, it wasn’t like I hadn’t had enough practice! It didn’t hurt that
both of my parents had never been afraid to share their thoughts and
feelings with me when it came to sex. I hate it when guys don’t say
anything while I’m blowing them. Even though I’ve been told by numerous
guys that I’m better at it than most girls, a little feedback never
hurts. Thankfully my dad wasn’t shy about telling me what he liked - and
didn’t for that matter. My mom had also been quite helpful in sharing
her own little tips for pleasing him as well.
Ever since I’d given my first job to my boyfriend in a dark move theater
I’ve been hooked. Some girls say they hate sucking a guy but personally
I love it! It’s not the actual act that does it for me. For instance,
sucking on a dildo does absolutely nothing for me. It’s the reaction I
get that from him gets my heart going, not to mention my pussy flowing.
While I’m sure every guy I date has wanted to fuck me, face it... most
didn’t REALLY expect it to happen, at least not on the first date. But
when it comes to a blowjob then that’s entirely different.
One of the things I love about a BJ is when I’m lucky enough to start
with a soft dick. Too often a guy is already worked up and at least
semi-erect by the time I get my mouth on him and I miss out on the thrill
of feeling I growing in my mouth. Even after who knows how many times
I’ve done it, I don’t think I’ll ever get over the amazement of feeling a
guy’s dick getting bigger and thicker in my mouth. The thing about it I
also know it’s really nothing he can control which tells me that he likes
what I’m doing and that I’m turning him on. It’s not like a girl who can
easily fake an orgasm - a guy’s dick is the ultimate lie detector!
While I love a BJ under just about any circumstance, what REALLY turns me
on is to do a guy in a public place. It’s fortunate that it’s really so
easy in that a guy doesn’t have to undress or anything, he just has to
let it out from his pants for me to suck it. For example, fucking in a
store can be a little dangerous at times unless I make sure I pan ahead
of time and wear the right outfit. Yet I can blow a guy behind some
clothes on the spur of the moment just about any time even when people
are practically right on top of us. It’s not that I want to be caught -
that can turn into something ugly. It’s the idea that we COULD be caught
that makes it hot for me.
Road head is sort of the best of both worlds in that it’s more or less
public AND people can even see me sometimes without getting us into
trouble. Like if a trucker pulls up next to us he can see me sucking a
guy but at the same time it’s just for the moment and not like he can get
involved or really say anything to anybody. Now for truckers, there’s no
problem anyway as I’ve never known one NOT to enjoy the show. What is
hot is to have some soccer mom in her minivan get a peek. Now THAT is
really funny sometimes!
Maybe the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done when sucking a guy off in a
car was to go through a drive though at a fast food joint and have him
order something and then pick it up while I’m blowing him. It takes a
little caution like checking out who’s at the window beforehand. Just to
be safe, it needs to be a guy as while I’m sure there are some girls who
wouldn’t mind watching, odds are a LOT higher that a young guy would
appreciate our efforts more. Admittedly I’ve only done this a few times
and never with my dad, but it’s something I’d recommend to anyone wanting
to cross the line with low odds of getting into trouble.
While my husband loves me sucking him off as he drives, by far my dad is
at the top of the scoreboard in terms of number of times. Of course he
has had the advantage of a lot more years and Steve is making up ground,
but there was a time back in high school when it was like every time we
went out he was asking me to sit up in the front seat with him. For
whatever reason my mother was never all that much into it so I guess once
he found out that I loved it he tried to take advantage of whatever
opportunities he could find.
My thoughts were interrupted when suddenly the lighting and road noise
changed and I knew we were entering the tunnel. Damn, I didn’t have much
time so hopefully he was as horny as I thought he was. As I’d already
mentioned, I DID have a LOT of experience when it came to this particular
cock and I pretty much knew instinctively now just what it took to make
him cum fast or slow depending on the circumstances. In this case, of
course, I was working against the clock so I was using every trick in my
“Make daddy cum” book.
“Fuck.... Oh fuck!” he groaned even louder and I knew he was getting
close, “Oh Kelly... Oh Kelly... Don’t stop... oh damn don’t stop.”
Yeah, like THAT was ever going to happen. Like when had I EVER stopped
when it came to getting my dad off? Still, it was nice to hear my own
father tell em that he appreciated what I was doing.
“Ohhhhhhhhh,” he sighed as we emerged from the tunnel just as his hips
bucked slightly and I felt the first shot of sperm spurt from his hard
incestuous cock into my mouth.
It was quickly followed by another and then a few more as I felt the SUV
shifting lanes as he maneuvered the complicated roadways of Pittsburgh.
I couldn’t help but wonder just how in the world he was able to
concentrate on the road while at the same time ejaculating into his
daughter’s eager mouth? Then again, as my mother had warned me so long
before, once the rocket is launched there’s no way to stop it.
Once he DID finally stop cumming I made sure I had every drop contained
so it wouldn’t get on his pants and then lifted myself up and sat back
beside him again. Glancing around at the cars surrounding us I couldn’t
help but wonder what the occupants would say if they knew what I was
holding in my mouth - and who it was that had given it to me?
“Taste good?”
I just mumbled and nodded a I tried to smile without spilling any of his
cum onto my dress. If we were on the way home it would be different but
not before we even made it to the restaurant. My dad was now totally
focused on the road just then as he made his way onto the off-ramp
heading downtown. We reached the stoplight at the bottom and for once I
was glad to hit a red light!
“Ahhhhhh,” I said as I opened my mouth like I was at the dentist and let
me see his cum on my tongue as I pushed it out for him.
“Alright silly goose, you’d better swallow that before we have a real
mess on our hands.”
He may have been trying to sound serious but I knew my dad was no
different than any other man after he’d shot his load into my mouth.
Yep, every last one of them wants to SEE it before I swallow. In their
defense, guys are so visually oriented when it comes to sex that I guess
if not then what was the point of even doing it? For me, just knowing a
guy was cumming inside of me was all I needed, I didn’t need to SEE it to
be fulfilled. But guys are wired differently in that it’s like it’s just
as important, if not more, for them to SEE the results than to actually
do it. Go figure...
I quickly swallowed his cum and then stuck my tongue out for him to see
that I’d done it. Again... the visual thing. Just in time as it turned
out when the light turned green and his focus shifted back to the road
again.
So just where WERE we headed now? Knowing my dad, it would be someplace
with a great steak but that didn’t exactly narrow things down all that
much. Indeed, over the years we’d visited Morton’s, Ruth Criss and The
Capital Grill, all of which offered premium (and expensive) options.
Then we went straight through the light onto Liberty Avenue and I knew
pretty much exactly where we were headed.
“Soooooo, Morton’s tonight?”
“Nothing but the best for my favorite daughter,” he acknowledged and then
he quickly glanced and patted my on my bare leg, “Besides, after that
incredible blowjob I figure I owe you.”
“Oh daddy.... you know better than that!” I pretended to protest but at
the same time I loved it when he complimented me. Sure, every guy will
tell me he loved his BJ but there’s something special about it when it’s
your own father paying you the compliment.
As we approached the restaurant I coughed slightly and patted his still
exposed but now quite limp dick. My dad chuckled.
“Yeah, I guess I’d better do something about that before the valet gets
an eyeful.”
By the time we pulled up to the curb he was “decent” again although in my
book he’d been pretty decent with it sticking out!
“Good evening sir... and miss,” the valet greeted us as he opened the
door for me. He was pretty discreet but even so he couldn’t help but
glance quickly as I emerged and my dress pulled up almost to my crotch as
I stepped out. I pretended to be a little embarrassed as I tugged it
back down but of course that was about the furthest thing I was worried
about. Heck, what was the point in even wearing something like it if
guys didn’t get to look?
Smiling, I took my father’s arm as he led me into the restaurant. The
maître d’ greeted my dad by name - he was a frequent guest as he often
entertained client here. “We have your table ready sir... follow me
please.”
I felt so proud to walk beside my dad to our table and I wondered how
many people were looking at us and wondering about our relationship.
Were we a couple? After all, we both were wearing wedding rings and in
this day and age it wasn’t all that unusual for an older gentlemen to
marry a woman half his age. Back when I was younger I suppose most
people immediately probably took me as his daughter. Then again there
were probably those with dirtier minds that wondered if this wasn’t some
old guy trying for a piece of teenage pussy. Given my usual attire at
such times (provided by my dad so you can imagine...) it wouldn’t have
surprised me if more people didn’t think that way. After all, how many
daughters dress like a hooker when going out alone with their own father?
While there were a number of booths open and tables in more private
locations, we were seated at a table in the middle of the main dining
room in full view of the dozens of people already seated. While
definitely NOT my choice when Steve and I would go out, the arrangement
was typical for date nights with my dad. It wasn’t like my dad wanted a
private seat so we could fool around the way Steve and I do. Noooooo,
this was all about him being seen with me and for him to see the reaction
of the other men - not to mention a few women at times as well. My part
in our little play was to be his trophy girl and I knew how to play my
role well.
With our jackets safely secured with the cute little coat check girl, I
was a little chilly but that actually worked in my favor as my nipples
were hard as rock. It didn’t hurt that I was also horny as hell after
the road head! With my dress as tight and thin as it was, it was like
someone could have measured the dimensions of my boobs and nipples the
same as if I wasn’t wearing anything. My dad didn’t fail to notice
either.
“Nice....,” was all he said but I caught the slight tip of his head and
the direction of his gaze as he looked at my aroused boobs.
Crossing my legs slowly, I made sure to lift my left leg over the right
as the slit in the dress was on that side which meant my upper thigh was
now in view to whomever might be interested in such things. As it turned
out, the older guy to the side of us WAS and I almost laughed out loud
when I say the disapproving look on his wife’s face as she looked to see
what had gained her husband’s interest. It was an interesting choice as
to which reaction turned me on more? Was it the way he openly stared at
my bared leg or the way what he was doing pissed off his wife? Honestly,
I would have to say it was his wife’s reaction that turned me on the
most. Really, for a guy to stare at me isn’t exactly headline news and
while I don’t mean to sound stuck up, that’s just the way it is. What’s
so much more fun is when somebody else sees what HE is doing and how they
react to it. Usually this is his wife but there have also been the
occasional girlfriend and in a few cases even a daughter. Then it’s
THEIR reaction that really makes my day!
Trying to keep with the atmosphere of the place, I actually ordered wine
rather than my usual Diet Coke. I figured I could nurse one glass
through the entire meal but then my dad changed the order to be the
entire bottle.
“Ahhhhh Dad, did you see the price?” I leaned over to whisper to him
after the waiter left. Like damn, it was over $200 for the bottle! Of
course it was probably a fraction of that price at the store but still.
Not to mention I really don’t know one wine from the other so hopefully
he would enjoy it,
“Like I’ve always said, only the best for my favorite daughter.”
I smiled at him - like he had another daughter to compare me to. Yet
again I was so proud that this man was my father. And to think that
people have the nerve to question me when it comes to my desire to please
him - in every way. How could I NOT want this more than anything given
the way he loved me and spoiled me?
I sat and suffering through the wine ritual and finally got a taste.
While I didn’t say anything to my dad, I thought he’d been ripped off.
OK, so I don’t exactly have a cultured wine perspective but still, at
what, $50 a glass I was expecting something spectacular. Frankly, the $5
diet coke would have been fine with me.
Soon after we gave our orders and of course my dad chose the filet mignon
- bleeding rare. As for me, I’ve always preferred seafood over meat so I
started with a shrimp cocktail (I LOVE the giant shrimp they use here)
followed by the fresh fish special. Actually I wasn’t even sure WHAT
fish it was, it just sounded hood when our waiter explained how it was
prepared. I’d been sorely tempted to go with the king crab legs but I
knew from past experience that they were messy and tonight I wanted to be
more formal for my father. Eating with my hands and wearing a bib was
NOT part of the strategy when wearing a dress like mine.
While waiting for our order I informed my dad that I needed to use the
ladies room and I was thrilled when he got up to help me with my chair
like a perfect gentleman. Of course it also gave him the opportunity to
give my ass a quick feel so there WAS a bit of an ulterior motive. I
doubted anyone noticed but it’s not like either of us really cared.
What my dad hadn’t noticed - guys never do when it comes to this sort of
thing, was that the timing of my request was linked to that of the wife
next to us, the very same one who had been so unhappy with her husband’s
unabashed interest in me. Once I saw her get up and head towards the
rest room (noting that HE didn’t help with HER chair) I couldn’t resist
the temptation to stir the pot a bit so to speak.
With her now gone my first step was to make sure I got up on the side of
our table that faced him. Now that his wife was away apparently he felt
that he could get away with more so he didn’t even try to appear as if he
was just accidently looking at me. I suppose most women would have
thought of him as a pervert and while that’s more or less what it
appeared he was, it didn’t bother me at all. Like what fun would it be
to have him NOT be interested in me? At the same time, what fun would it
be for my dad if I didn’t take the opportunity to flirt with some poor
guy like him?
While I swear it wasn’t premeditated, I couldn’t resist myself...
“So have you been enjoying the view?” I said softly to him as my dad
turned to push my chair in again.
I glanced downward and twisted so that my leg was poking out for him
again. It was pretty blatant but then it wasn’t like I had twenty
minutes to flirt and build things up with him. Besides, I felt pretty
confident that he wouldn’t protest and I was right. My expectation was
that he would blush and try to act as though he had no idea what I was
talking about. But I had to give him credit, he was even more of a
pervert than I’d figured...
“Why yes I have,” he said in a low tone unabashedly, “You’re quite
pretty. Your husband is a lucky man.”
I suppose I should’ve left it there but now my dad was standing back next
to me again listening in on the conversation so I figured why not give
him a bit of a show.
“Oh no, he’s not my husband,” I replied, looking back at my dad and
smiling before turning back to the pervert.
“Oh really,” the guy came back and then grinned wickedly at my dad, “So
you’re both cheating tonight.... nice. My congratulations to you sir.”
As much as it turned me on, it DID surprise me a little that he would be
so bold and I felt my dad move and although I had no idea what he was
about to say, to be safe I quickly replied before he could.
“Well actually you see, he’s my father.”
THAT did the trick. This time he did blush just a bit and the look on
his face was so funny.
“Oh I’m so sorry,” he stammered and then he looked to my father, “Sir, I
never meant anything by that, it’s just...”
Again I cut in to keep my dad from answering. Leaning over and placing
my hand on his leg, I whispered in the guy’s ear, “You don’t have worry,
would you believe that I blew him on the way here and after we get home
he’s gonna fuck me?”
From the look on his face he clearly thought I was joking so I turned to
my dad and said softly so just the guy would hear, or at least not the
entire restaurant, “Isn’t that right daddy... I mean what we did on the
way here and what we’ll do afterwards.”
Now my dad didn’t make it to be a senior law partner in a prestigious
firm for nothing and he immediately caught on to what I was doing. He
looked at the guy and I saw him give a wink and a grin. OMG, I wish I’d
had a camera!
“Damn,” was all Mr. Pervert said at first but then somehow regained his
composure and added, “Well, in any case I still maintain that he’s one
lucky man.”
With that I straightened up and headed towards the restrooms, leaving the
two of them behind. To this day I have no idea what was said between
them afterwards, if anything, but I would’ve loved to have been a
proverbial fly on the wall to listen.
The whole episode actually only took less than a minute so by the time I
got into the restroom his wife had only been in there for a few minutes
at most. When I entered it was just the two of us and I found her
checking out her makeup in the mirror. Without a word I took up station
a the sink next to her and fished out some lipstick from my purse.
We could see each other in the mirrors so it wasn’t like I had to
actually look directly at her and I saw that she was taking advantage of
the same thing to check me out. The tension levels quickly rose but I
remained quiet, waiting to see if she would react. Well, I didn’t have
to wait long as obviously this had been something working up through
their entire meal.
“You know, I just don’t understand why a pretty girl like you needs to
dress like a hooker in public,” she said in an accusing tone of voice
without actually looking at me directly.
I turned to her without answering but giving her an expression as if I
had no idea what she was talking about.
“Oh don’t give me that look you slut. It’s bad enough you’re out with a
married man old enough to be your father, but from the looks of things
I’ll bet you’re cheating on your own husband as well.”
Again, it wasn’t like I’d worked this all out ahead of time. Instead I
was just running on instinct and reacting to what was offered, just as I
had with her husband. And her husband’s reaction I was feeling pretty
naughty so I replied with more than even I’d anticipated. Hey, we were
the only ones in the room so what the hell? Not like we were being
recorded or anything.
“Well, first of all, he IS my father,” I started out and I saw her eyes
widen. “Second, my husband knows we’re out together tonight so it’s not
like I’m cheating on him.”
At first she just stood there and stared at me like she really didn’t
understand what I was saying so I made it clear to her.
“Oh just so you know, he’s just fine with my dad doing me.”
Well, it was a bit of a stretch since my husband really wasn’t “just
fine” but as a good husband he tolerated what I did with my dad but then
she didn’t have to know that.
This time she got the message but apparently she wasn’t buying it.
“You’re disgusting,” she practically spit out, “I know you’re just being
mean but to even say such things is terrible. And even if he IS your
real father, to dress like... THAT?”
In for an ounce....
“I’m perfectly serious, my dad’s been fucking me since I was sixteen.
Why else would I dress this way on a date with him?”
“Liar... Slut!” she practically spat out.
My heart was racing and my pussy was practically throbbing now as she
quickly threw her things together into her pace and practically ran from
the rest room without another word between us. Oh well, mission
accomplished! I still couldn’t figure for sure is she believed me or not
but in either case I couldn’t have asked for a better reaction from her.
Heck, I was more turned on now than I was after teasing her husband!
I gave her a minute head start and then returned to our table. By the
time I arrived the guy was asking for their check and then it was like
they couldn’t wait to leave. Both of them looked at me as I approached
with one staring and the other glaring - not hard to figure out which was
which. God I felt so hot! My dad again stood up to help with my chair
but before I took my sat I whispered in his ear.
“God I’m so fucking horny now daddy!”
My dad just smiled as I too my seat and he returned to his. It was all I
could do not to turn to look at the couple next to us. Finally when I
noticed the waiter returning their check I couldn’t help myself. Damn,
the look she gave me was priceless but that was nothing to what she gave
my dad when he saw me looking over and did the same. Well, I guess that
answered any questions as to whether or not she believed me.
Once they had left my dad leaned over towards me.
“Damn you’re so hot when you’re naughty,” he said in as soft a voice as
he could and till be heard.
“Well, anything for my favorite daddy,” I responded, not worrying this
time about who might hear me. It was an innocent remark by itself after
all but not so what I followed with...
“Anything...,” I repeated but this time in a much deeper, more seductive
tone of voice.
Our meal finally arrived then and for the most part things pretty much
were “normal” after that although I made sure I shifted my legs now and
then just to allow my skirt to ride up a little bit more each time.
Again, it wasn’t like I was doing this strictly for my father as he
couldn’t see anything. What I was going for was more for the OTHER men
around me so my dad could see their reactions and be proud to be my
daddy. I’d like to think I was pretty successful.
After our meal we shared a desert and then relaxed as the wine bottle
emptied. Normally even a full glass was more than my limit and tonight
I’d downed twice that much so I was feeling it in my head. I can
honestly say I’ve never been “drunk” in my life but I was getting close
to I tried to limit my intake. Last thing I needed was to pass out on my
dad later!
After the meal and we were back in the SUV, my dad turned to me.
“Alright, I just HAVE to ask... what the hell did you say to that poor
woman in the rest room? Damn, the look she gave me when she got back...
it was like she could’ve killed me! And then the way she told her
husband to get the check, you would’ve thought the place was on fire!”
I explained to him the whole episode and the smile on his face got wider
and wider.”
“So you really told her?” he asked as if he couldn’t believe his ears, “I
mean, you told her I was having sex with you? Shit, no wonder she looked
at me like I was the devil incarnated!”
We both laughed at that as I put my head on his shoulder.
“You know daddy, I don’t give a damn what old bitches like her think. I
LOVE it when you fuck me and I ALWAYS will.”
My dad put his arm around me, steering with one hand as he fondled my
boob under my jacket.
“Oh Kelly, I can’t even begin to tell you what it means to me to hear you
say that,” he said, sounding as if he was about to shed tears.
“It’s just that.... well... it’s just that when you do I feel so close to
you. It shows me how much you love me... and respect me not just as your
daughter, but as a woman as well. Sometimes I just don’t know how to say
it... It’s like when you cum inside of me I feel more like your daughter
than at any other time. Oh I don’t know how to say it right!”
My dad pulled me in tight and squeezed my breast in his hand.
“You said it just perfect baby girl... just perfect.”
We didn’t say a word the rest of the way back to his place. We didn’t
need to. As for me, I don’t think I trusted my voice not to crack if I
had. I felt so loved... so close to my dad at that moment. I couldn’t
wait until we got to his home where I could prove to him once again that
I was worthy to be his daughter. Where I could receive his parental love
and experience his deepest lust in the most ultimate way possible. Where
we could spend the night together as father and daughter in the manner
every girl should be able to experience at least once in her life. A
tear finally escaped, followed by another just as we pulled in as I felt
this incredible NEED to please him and in doing so, satisfy HIS needs as
well.
Chapter 6 - Satisfying My Father’s Needs
========================================
It was almost mind-boggling how the mood of our evening had changed so
dramatically. It was like one moment we were both teasing and being
outrageous and then the next everything was intimate, loving and tender.
My dad silently pulled into the garage and then went around to the
passenger side to help me out. My aunt’s car was missing which left him
plenty of room. Evidently she was making sure nothing would disturb us
and I suspected my husband wasn’t going to have to worry about being
lonely tonight but then with her, who knew?
At first I thought he was just going to help me out the same as he
usually did but instead as I scooted over to the edge of the seat he
reached underneath me and gently lifted me out, holding me close to his
chest as he turned and leaned back to shut the door. My dress was pulled
up practically to my waist but it didn’t matter as there wasn’t anyone to
see us with the garage door shut. Placing my arm around his neck, I put
my head against his shoulder and just enjoyed being so close to my loving
father.
OK, so I’m not exactly heavy but then I’m not a little teenager anymore
either so I couldn’t have been THAT easy to carry but my dad somehow
managed to get me through the basement door, through the family room, up
the stairs to the first floor, then down the hall and up the stairs to
the second floor and then to his bedroom without so much as a heavy
breath or comment. Still, I imagine it was with at least a small sense
of relief as he lowered me to the bed and then leaned over me to kiss me
briefly on the lips before standing straight.
“Oh my God, you’re so beautiful,” he practically gushed as he crossed his
arms and smiled as he gazed at me lovingly. Each word came out slowly
and I felt like the most beautiful girl in all the world.
“I love you daddy,” I whispered but in the silence it was easily heard.
Without waiting for him to answer I bent my legs and lifted my butt off
the bed, first slipping my dress even further up and then pulling my
thong down and over my heels, flipping them to the bottom of the bed.
Sitting up, I pulled the dress up and over my head, leaving me wearing
nothing but my heels and the beautiful cross necklace he’d given me
earlier in the evening. Now naked for all practical purposes, I laid on
my right side, pulling my left foot up so my leg was bent upwards,
exposing my hot wet pussy for him to enjoy. My hand seemed to have a
mind of its own as it moved to my crotch and I felt the wetness there
with my fingertips.
The room was deathly quiet as neither of us seemed to want to be the
first to break the silence. It was my dad’s turn to strip and it didn’t
take long for him to undress and lay his clothes on the chair against the
wall. OK, so my dad’s not a young man anymore and sure he doesn’t have
the physique of my husband’s body but the naked man that now stood before
me wasn’t just ANY man... he was my father and it thrilled me to see his
dick so full and thick with lust - a lust that was for ME, for his own
daughter.
My dad seemed content for the moment to just stand there and gaze at me,
his eyes roaming up and down the length of my nude figure with special
attention to my boobs and pussy where I was now rubbing myself slowly.
Well, he WAS a man in addition to being my father so where else would you
expect him to look? Seeing him with that special gleam in his eyes, I
knew what I needed to do at that moment. After all, it didn’t take a
rocket scientist to figure this one out!
Leaning back with my head against the pillow, I bent my knees and placed
my feet flat on the bed, spreading my legs apart and twisting a bit to
give him a direct view of my pussy and butt. My left hand moved down
further between my thighs as I cupped my boob with the right one. At
first I just continued to slowly masturbate, simply rubbing the tip of my
finger against my sensitive clit without even penetrating myself.
My dad was the first to break the silence...
“I can’t imagine anything more erotic than to watch you play with
yourself,” he said softly as his hand started to stroke his erection
slowly.
Well, personally I could think of something - seeing him staring at my
crotch as I masturbated for him. Sure it felt good but my REAL enjoyment
at the moment was seeing him being turned on as he watched me.
“I love you so much daddy.”
“And I love you too baby.”
God I wanted more than ever to make him happy, to please my father, to
fulfill his every desire and need. I wasn’t worried whether or not I
COULD, I mean like THAT was a given. After all, who could even begin to
compete with his own daughter when it came to meeting his sexual desires?
No, I wasn’t worried about anything like that. I simply wanted to DO it
or should I say, for him to DO me.
“Love me daddy...,” I practically pleaded, “Take me... I give myself to
you, totally and completely.”
Don’t ask me why, but at that moment the words I’d just uttered reminded
me of that time over twelve years ago when my dad entered my bedroom with
the intent of having sex with me for the very first time. We both knew
what was about to happen when he appeared at my door naked with his
erection in full bloom. I’ll never forget the words I’d said to him then
- almost the exact same words I’d just said to him a few seconds ago.
Now, twelve years later and who knows how many times he’d fucked me in
between, those words held just as much meaning to me as they had that
first time. Now, twelve years later and after so many other men had
fucked me, it was my father I wanted more than anyone else, even more
than my own husband, at least at that moment. How else could it be?
This was my father, the man who created me, the man who raised me and who
done so much more for me than I could ever possibly repay.
Another time and place and my dad would have probably laid between my
legs and eaten my pussy, even though I knew he wasn’t overly thrilled
about it himself. It wasn’t that he was grossed out putting his face in
my crotch or that he didn’t like the taste of a girl. The way my mom had
explained it to me one time when I was frustrated by his lack of interest
in reciprocating after I’d blown him was that he simply was so anxious to
fuck me he didn’t even think about eating me out. I guess I should’ve
been honored but still, I enjoy being eaten out as much as the next girl.
Then again, it wasn’t about MY pleasure when I had sex with my dad. If I
wanted my pussy licked I had plenty of other options. After all, this
was all about my dad’s needs and desires, not mine.
Honestly, who could blame my dad after all the events of the day and
evening so far to be anxious to fuck me? Indeed, I would’ve been far
more disappointed if he wasn’t! Seeing the dark lust in his eyes and
feeling the remarkable hardness of his dick as it rub against my belly as
he moved over me, I felt..., well I guess you could say I simply felt
happy.
My dad stroked his fingers through my hair as he hovered over me, careful
to keep his weight from crushing me. His lips kissed my neck and ear and
then worked their way down to my breast, gently tugging the nipple with
his teeth as his tongue flicked over it. Damn, I was about ready to
orgasm and he hadn’t even touched my pussy yet!
Moving up again, I felt his warm breath against my ear as he whispered,
“Tell me what you want... I need you to tell me.”
Well, what I REALLY wanted was for him to simply take me and do whatever
it was HE wanted but I knew from past experience that wasn’t what he
wanted to hear.
“Fuck me daddy,” I softly replied, “I want you to fuck me. Show me how
much you love me.”
Indeed, I’ve always maintained that the two most powerful words a girl
has in her arsenal are, “Fuck me”. I can’t think of anything a guy wants
to hear from a girl than those two words. Now add in one simple word -
“daddy” and it’s like they become exponentially even more powerful.
“Yesssssss, that’s it, tell me again,” he sighed as he kissed my neck
again.
“Please daddy, please fuck me... PLEASE!” I pleaded for him, “I want to
be good, to be your good little girl. I want to please you and make you
happy. I want you inside of me, to be a part of me. I want you to love
me.”
“Oh Kelly, my dear wonderful daughter, I don’t need to fuck you to be
happy. I love you just for being who you are.”
I knew that but it was more an intellectual understanding, not an
emotional one. Like of course he didn’t have to fuck me for me to know
he loved me. I knew perfectly well that even if we never had sex again
he would continue to love me just as much as he ever did. That wasn’t
the point. I wanted him to fuck me because I already knew he loved me.
I wanted him to fuck me because I wanted to give everything I had to give
to him. It was because I knew that he loved me like no other woman in
the world, not even his own wife, that made me feel so special when he
was inside of me with our bodies literally joined together, especially
when he symbolically mated me by leaving his cum deep inside of me.
“I know daddy,” I acknowledged, “But I WANT you to fuck me... I WANT you
inside of me... I WANT you to cum inside of me.”
“Oh yes Kelly, and believe me... I so badly want to do just that.”
And so he did. My right hand guided my father’s incestuous erection to
the entrance of his only daughter’s wet pussy. Rubbing it against me, I
wanted SOOOOO badly for him to push it in and I didn’t have to wait long
as he was just as anxious to do it.
“Oh daddyyyyyyyy!” I moaned as I felt him penetrate me, my pussy
spreading open to engulf the stiff fleshy member that was trying so hard
to invade it. It was ironic that the very same pussy that was screaming
to be fucked was at the same time doing its best to resist the very thing
it wanted so badly.
“Ohhhhhhhhh... YESSSSSSS!” I cried out as my father’s dick pushed deeper
and deeper inside of me until finally I had him all, I had every inch of
his dick inside of me until the base of his dick met up against my
crotch. I loved the feel of his thick stiff pubic hair as it pressed up
against my pussy. Wrapping my legs around him as best I could, I pulled
him in tighter, trying to push him into me even further.
For a few minutes, which seemed like hours at the time, we remained in
that condition with his erection buried inside of me and neither of us
moving or saying a word. I swore I could feel his pulse inside of me but
it could’ve been just my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. It was what
I’d been waiting for all night - to be physically joined with him in the
most intimate manner any man and woman can be.
Memories of that stupid woman at the restaurant flashed through my head
as I thought about how she was so clueless and closed minded. If only
she could see us now and see for herself how wonderful incest can be when
it’s done right. This wasn’t like the stupid fake porn sites designed to
turn on horny men. It wasn’t anything even remotely related to the abuse
of young girls by perverted family members that appear on the TV news.
No, this was incest as it was meant to be “ a loving, sharing, respectful
union of a father and his daughter. How could she even begin to
understand the feeling of satisfaction that was almost overwhelming me at
this moment?
My dad suddenly started to pump his dick in and out of me, starting out
ever so slowly and then gradually picking up the pace until he was
pounding me. Oh my god, it was like I’d died and gone to heaven!
“Yes daddy.... yes! Fuck me harder daddy... harder!” I encouraged him as
if he needed any form of encouragement at that moment.
Soon we’d traded positions with him lying on his back and me riding his
stiff dick facing him. I grabbed the headboard and leaned forward so my
boobs hung down in front of his face, allowing him to suckle my breasts
as I rode his dick. His powerful hands cupped my ass as he assisted me in
bouncing on him, driving him oh so deep into me!
From there we traded again only this time I was on my belly with a pillow
under me so my pussy was more easily accessible. For a brief moment I
felt his dick head against my asshole and I wondered if he was going to
fuck my ass. Given a choice I would’ve said no but then that was one
word missing from my vocabulary when my dad and I were having sex. My
dad knew my feelings about anal sex and 99% of the time he honored those
feelings but there were times when his own lust overrode things and he
fucked me in the ass. Well, if that’s what he wanted then that’s what he
would get from me but I have to say I wasn’t sad when he didn’t want it.
After fucking me in that position for a while it was back to missionary
which told me that he could feel himself on the edge of cumming. With
rare exception, when my dad fucked me he would cum in my pussy while on
top of me as though he was dominating me. If I was blowing him then he
would cum in my mouth but either way he generally avoided the body shots
unless he was unable to hold himself back at that moment. It was
something that he’d always seemed to prefer? I mean that when he came
inside of me he liked to be in this position which I attributed to his
desire to dominate and control me. We both enjoyed trying out as many
positions as possible but when it was time for him to cum there was just
one that worked best for him - good old-fashioned missionary position.
Knowing he was on the verge, I cried out, “Cum inside of me daddy... give
me your cum! Give me your love!”
Indeed, that was exactly what it meant to me when my father came inside
of me. For him to mate with me, to leave his cum inside of me was the
ultimate outward act of his fatherly love for me. Why else would he do
it if her didn’t love and respect me? What better way for him to show
me?
It was like that little extra bit of encouragement was all he needed and
sure enough, I felt him press himself hard against me as he seemed to try
and drive his dick into me as far as he could.
“Oh yeah!” he groaned as he started to cum, “Take it baby girl... take
your daddy’s cum.”
Like I had a choice at that point... but who cares? Indeed, I wanted it
just as badly as he wanted it in me. In my mind I tried to imagine the
head of his dick deep inside of me, the white ropes of cum exploding from
him and filling me with his love. It was just the final thing I needed
for my own orgasm to erupt causing my pussy to clamp down on his
incestuous cock and squeeze down on him.
“God!” was all he said as he finished and feel down to his elbows, barely
enough to keep from pressing down heavy against me. He just stayed that
way as my own orgasm rippled through me like a forest fire blazing though
the mountainside. Oh my god, it felt so damn good!
As my orgasm slowly subsided, we were back to the beginning as we
competed the full circle of sex. Once again we laid there silently,
still coupled together so intimately although this time he was rapidly
dwindling inside of me.
Finally his arms betrayed him and he barely caught himself from dropping
down on me. Rolling over next to me, he laid there on his back, still
breathing heavily. I turned on my side, draping one leg over him as I
pressed my cum-filed pussy up against his hip. His arm pushed under me
and I laid my own across his hairy chest with my head laying on him.
Soon he was sound asleep as I remained awake for a long while.
Knowing I’d satisfied my dad left me content. I could feel his cum as it
seeped from my pussy and drained down to the bed over my leg. I knew
that morning would come quickly and that when he awoke he would want me
again and I knew just as certainly that I would give myself to him as
willingly and lovingly as I had this evening.
As I laid there too worked up to fall asleep - unlike my father who, like
most men, dropped off within minutes of getting off, I thought about the
next morning. Hmmmmmm, I wondered if maybe my dad would enjoy waking up
to my mouth on his dick? In a way it would be sort of a twist on those
days back in high school when he use to come into my room before leaving
for work and get himself off. Sometimes he just jerked off and cum on me
for me to discover later when I awoke. Other times he might press his
dick into my lips or even my pussy depending on how I was positioned.
Usually I would wake up at the first touch but after a particularly
sleepy night I might not until he was inside of me. Granted that hardly
ever happened but it left such an impression that I could recall almost
every time it did.
I can just as clearly remember the first time I ever sucked a guy’s dick
when he was sleeping. It was during a sleepover at my first boyfriend’s
house (who would have known at the time that he would eventually become
my husband). In theory it was with his sister and our friends but they
covered for me so I could sleep with Steve overnight for the first time.
My mom was actually the instigator in that she was the one who suggested
the idea to me once she learned my plans. At that age I doubt I would
have even thought of the idea myself because really, who would have ever
thought a guy’s dick would respond when he was sleeping? As it turned
out, THAT was exactly what made it so hot for me, that it DID respond all
by itself without him even being aware of it. Over time it became more
or less a challenge for me - could I get him to cum without waking him?
Without going off too far a tangent, I can say that it’s possible but not
easy, not by a long shot!
So anyways... Afterwards I knew that he would drive me back home where I
would greet my husband. No doubt Steve would want to immediately fuck
me. It was as if he needed to reassert his dominance over me after
having given myself to my father. That’s one area where I’ve been
unsuccessful in getting Steve to understand the relationship between me
and my father. There’s nothing to be competitive over. My husband is my
only lover, period. By the same token, my dad is my only father. Two
different men, two different roles, two different forms of submission.
Although I sincerely wish Steve could accept my duty to my father in more
positive ways, if that’s how he needs to handle things then so be it. As
his wife it’s my duty to yield to him wishes although I’ve never
considered it in such crass terms. I love my husband like I love no
other man but when he fucks me it’s distinctly different than when my
father does. I would never say one was better than the other, just
different. How lucky I am to have both options!!!
Unable to sleep, I rolled onto my back and began to masturbate. It’s
funny to me how people seem to feel that masturbation is a substitute for
sex. It’s like people think that if you need to masturbate then you must
not be getting enough sex. Well sure I masturbate if for some reason I’m
not getting enough but really, how often has THAT ever happened to me. I
mean like no girl can ever really claim she’s not getting enough. If I
can’t go out and get laid within 60 minutes - and I mean anytime,
anytime, anywhere, then it’s ME that’s the problem. The same applies to
any girl in my opinion. If you’re female and not getting enough sex, the
problem is facing you in the mirror.
For me, taking aside what I might do to tease a guy or to please him by
putting on a show, as a general rule I masturbate for only one reason - I
LOVE to masturbate! What I was doing right now - masturbating after just
having had great sex with my dad, wasn’t the exception for me but rather
the rule. It’s not like the guy should care as he’s the one sleeping.
Even if he DID know it’s not a reflection on him. Some guys have seen me
doing myself after they’d fucked me and taken it almost as an insult to
their abilities, like I wasn’t satisfied after sex with them. Whatever
I’d just done with them has nothing to do with it, I just enjoy playing
with myself. If anything, they should take it as a compliment as usually
the better the sex the harder it is for me to unwind and fall asleep
myself which means I usually masturbate until I calm down enough to drift
off.
Another reason I enjoy masturbating after sex is it’s like it’s repay
time for me. Just as I was doing now, I love laying there and fingering
myself as memories of how my father’s dick had flooded me just a short
time ago ran through my mind. I also fantasized about the next morning,
planning out how I wanted to wake him with his cum in my mouth and then
serve him breakfast in bed - naked of course.
After bringing myself off a couple of times I finally drifted off to
sleep as my last thoughts were of how happy I was. At that moment there
was nothing more in all the world that I desired. My every need had been
fulfilled and I felt so incredibly loved. Really, what more could a girl
ask for in her life than to be a proper daughter for her father with the
perfect husband anxiously waiting for her return?
THE END