Subject: A Father-Daughter Time Together
Story Codes: MF oral exhib incest father daughter
Diary Date: May 19, 2014
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
retained. Any other use of this work is by written permission of the
Author only.
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Summary
=======
My husband was spending the day with his mother so I figured why not do
the same with my dad? It’s been a long time since the two of us spent a
some quality time together and it wasn't long before I realized how I’d
been derelict in my duties. Well, I’m pretty sure I’m back to being a
good and proper daughter in my father’s eyes.
Table of Contents
=================
Chapter 1 - Duties and Responsibilities
Chapter 2 - Regrets
Chapter 3 - In-Laws
Chapter 4 - Getting Ready for My Dad
Chapter 5 - Tradition Satisfied
Chapter 6 - Satisfying My Father’s Needs
Chapter 7 - Closure
Chapter 1 - Duties and Responsibilities
=======================================
It’s an unsettling sign of the times that the divorce rate among so-
called Christian couples is greater than fifty percent and growing every
year. Like, should this be telling us about our decaying moral values?
I mean, to think that less than half of all Christian couples stay true
to the sacred vows they took before their families and God really bothers
me. Not only is it an affront to God, but what sort of message is being
sent to the non-Christian communities? Little wonder that Christians are
being treated the way we are these days. I guess you could even say that
we deserve it based on the hypocrisy that seems so rife within the ranks.
It’s not just the religious implications but also the impact that divorce
has on families as well that concerns me. Indeed, as an 8th grade
teacher in a large public school I witness every day the results of this
alarming epidemic when I count the growing number of children in my
classes who hail from single-parent families. Another disturbing point
is that I’m fortunate enough to be employed by an upper-income community
where the “problems” of the inner city are supposedly minimalized. If
that’s the case then I can only imagine the situation in some of the
inner city districts. While exceptions always exist to every rule,
anyone who’s had any exposure at all to kids these days will tell you
that having two parents is generally better than one.
So what’s led to this decline in family values? Well, everyone has their
opinion in the matter and I suppose it wouldn’t surprise anyone when I
say that I do as well. 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 foundation of a successful
marriage - the establishment, understanding and practice of clearly
defined roles and responsibilities.
Although nothing can guarantee a marriage’s longevity, I firmly maintain
that without this crucial element a marriage is almost certainly doomed
to fail sooner than later. Even if it doesn’t result in divorce, failing
to establish roles and responsibilities may create a situation where it
might be better that the marriage DID fail. Based on what I’ve seen
where a warring couple doesn’t separate and instead allow their marriage
to disintegrate to the detriment of their children’s health and well-
being.
For me to simply state that roles and responsibilities are critical is
easy. Putting it into practice - now that’s where the problems lurk. It
would be impossible to spell out everything that each member of a family
should and should not do in detail. Making things 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’s REALLY important is that each couple have
general roles established and that these are well understood. If the
basic concepts are agreed upon thereby forming a firm foundation, the
rest can be built on top of them using less restrictive definitions.
Like most things in life, there’s always the risk of going too far. This
is especially true when dealing with what are really trivial issues. For
example, decisions regarding who takes out the garbage, who does the
dishes, and so forth will almost certainly change over time. Like
really, so long as it doesn’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 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, roles and responsibilities are
critical for a successful marriage and a successful marriage is a non-
negotiable prerequisite to the proper practice of incest. I mean like
technically anyone can just jump into incest but there’s some pretty darn
good reasons as to why it’s illegal in most societies and generally
considered taboo even when it’s not. “Proper” incest is not what you see
on the TV news or porn sites. In fact, if it’s indeed “proper” that
means you’ll never hear about it in most cases. The crap we see on the
television news and the Internet is all about pornography and
exploitation, not love and respect. It’s about perversion and
selfishness, not true biblical submission and giving. If you think about
it, it only makes sense that incest is the natural RESULT of a proper
marriage, not the driver.
Thus each partner in a successful marriage must have successfully dealt
with the issue of their family roles BEFORE taking any steps toward
actually engaging in incest. Even if they both have, the strain that
incest can place on these roles can lead to quite severe and complex
issues even in cases where a solid foundation is in place so just imagine
the potential for disaster when these are missing!
When it comes to determining our roles in life, whether it be in marriage
or at work or even amongst friends, it always helps to have a mentor. As
a daughter and a wife I’ve always tried to emulate my mother. After all,
what better role model can a girl possibly ask for than her own mom?
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 remain best friends even
today). Instead, it was the sexual addictions that my father was unable
to contain after a lifetime of battling the siren’s lure of child
pornography. It’s really no different than how an addiction to drugs or
alcohol will typically lead to a divorce.
Over the years my father’s weakness grew until eventually my mother was
forced into a situation where she had to make one of life’s cruelest
decisions - to either totally compromise her most sacred ethical and
moral beliefs or leave her husband of over a quarter century. Though I
feel sad for the result, I’m incredibly proud of my mom for having such
strong moral convictions such that she was able to make such a terrible
choice. To this day I am 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 the 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 only to our fathers but I know that someday if I have
a son that he will assume his rightful place in our family authority
structure after he enters puberty and physically becomes a man. It may
seem a little complicated to some people in that on the one hand as his
mother I will retain parental authority over him yet at the same time I
would submit to him in terms of his physical needs and desires.
Personally I think that if anyone takes just a few moments to think about
it without trying to make it too complicated that it all falls into place
quite nicely.
In the same manner as I have and my mother before me, I expect that my
daughter will also submit to the men in our family as that is the proper
thing for a daughter to do. Thus she will be instructed to do the same
things which I did with my father, and that my mother did with her father
before me - to submit her body wholly and completely to her father as
well as her grandfathers, uncles and brothers as applicable although her
father would always come first.
This is a complicated subject so before anyone jumps all over me, some
clarification is probably needed at this point. Indeed, the subject of
Christian submission is one of the most complex issues I find when
talking to people about it. In fact, so much so that I wrote an entire
diary entry about it which is posted in the “About Me” folder of my diary
site on ASSTR (I’m Kelly85 there). Thus I’ll only cover the highlights
to the extent necessary to allow people to understand my actions on this
particular 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 the God-given right to expect his daughter honor him by
submitting herself physically to him in whatever manner necessary to
satisfy his sexual needs and desires so long as he doesn’t abuse his
position of authority.
What is “necessary” is highly subjective as every man has different
sexual needs and attitudes. For some fathers it can be as simple as her
looking sexy while being a good student, an athlete, to excel at
something in the arts, etc. However, fathers are also men and men by
their very nature have ingrained sexual needs and desires which can
sometimes grow until beyond their control. For a man to have lustful
desires for a young girl is not only natural, it’s to be expected given
our DNA being what it is. What IS unnatural is for a man to try and
resist these “hard-wired” feelings and force them to remain buried and
unfilled. Given our cultural attitudes, not to mention legal system, for
the vast majority of men masturbation and fantasy are the only options
towards trying to satisfy these base feelings. To paraphrase a common
phrase, “80% of men admit that they fantasize about sex with younger
girls, especially their daughters. The other 20% are liars.”
While I’ll be the first to concede that it’s quite rare, there will
always those fathers who cannot contain their 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 ways only
his daughter can. In a perfect world, this would all occur in a loving
and respectful family environment. Indeed, when I refer to “true” incest
that’s exactly what I mean. Unfortunately the world is NOT perfect and
there will always be perverts and sadists who twist God’s word and use
incest as an excuse for rape and abuse. Yes, technically and legally
it’s incest but this is the sort of sick behavior that gives incest a
black eye and has resulted in the taboos and laws against it. Sadly, the
immorality of the minority overshadows the goodness of the majority
forcing men who honorably love their daughters and nieces to have to hide
their desires and actions or face retribution from those who cannot
comprehend the difference between the actions of a pervert and those of a
loving father and daughter.
When it comes to my own dad, I’ve been lucky that what we have between us
has always been what I call “true” or “proper” incest. My father has
NEVER forced me to do anything I haven’t been more than willing to do
although there have been few times he needed to help me understand that I
did. Thanks to incest I know that I can please him and fulfill his needs
and desires in a special way that nobody else in the world can, not even
my own mother.
When it comes to my own daughter someday, I’m not sure yet what type of
sexual relations she and my husband will establish, if any. Today Steve
is firmly opposed to incest in principle although he doesn’t 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
for him to PROVE he loves me, I have sex with him BECAUSE he loves me.
Hopefully you understand by now that 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 would call this “grooming” which I find personally
offensive as it usually means some sort of brainwashing is taking place
to where a girl ends up doing something she does not really want to do.
Indeed, I have had many people accuse my parents of this very thing
saying that I was “groomed” by my parents until eventually we all had sex
and it was only because I was brainwashed that I now believe that it was
the proper thing to do.
Well hogwash to that!
When it comes to the daughter, it really doesn’t matter what the 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 her to not ensure that her daughter is properly prepared in
the event she’s called upon by her father. Take my mother and her sister
for example. My grandmother doesn’t particularly care for incest and has
never participated in it or even watched her husband and daughters
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 wouldn’t need his daughters in such a way but I realize now
that she was being more than just a little naïve. Still, imagine how
differently things might have been that night my grandfather first went
to my fourteen year-old mother’s bed for the first time had she NOT been
prepared to say yes to whatever he demanded. I’m sure the reaction of
her younger sister upon seeing her father fucking her sister would’ve
been a lot different as well had she not also been conditioned to
understand that anything her father wanted from them was OK. Small
wonder that even though she was only twelve at the time that my Aunt
Linda was so anxious for her father to fuck her just so she could be 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 felt years later,
how lucky they were to know without any doubt that they could make their
father feel better in ways nobody else could. As I said, my grandmother
never participated but she understood her duties as a wife and as such
she did not make any attempt to stop her husband from having sex with
their daughters. She understood that for her to do so would have simply
been wrong and in violation of her religious beliefs. True, she never
encouraged it or even watched them together but she DID keep everyone
happy without them having to hide anything or feel guilty about it.
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 - submission is a two-way street. Yes,
the woman is tasked with yielding herself to 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.
This point is conveniently forgotten by those who would use the Bible as
an excuse for their debauchery. 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? Thus to abuse his wife or daughter by forcing anything
on them against their will or beliefs would be a total violation of this
incredible responsibility placed on him. Just because he has the
AUTHORITY over his wife and daughter doesn’t mean it’s he has the RIGHT
to use it.
That is where the line gets drawn between submission and abuse. For
example, my father LOVES anal sex but he also knows that I hate it. Yes,
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... submission is 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 times when I didn't always obey my dad. Many times
I’m sure I did things that frustrated him or even upset him. That’s only
natural in the growth and maturity of any human being - to rebel against
authority and to question everything, especially the typical teenager.
Still, it’s one thing to leave your bed unmade or to come home after
curfew from a date but quite another to say “no” to your dad when he
comes to you all horny and needing your help. Indeed, I’m extremely
proud to be able to say today that I have NEVER refused to satisfy my
father’s sexual needs. Now if only I could say the same about my
curfew... LOL
Chapter 2 - Regrets
===================
People often ask me if there’s anything I’ve done in my life, at least
sexually, that I regret (face it, the ONLY thing most people really care
about is my sex life). Well, I can honestly say that from a purely
sexual perspective that there is nothing I would take back if given the
chance to do choose whether to do it or not. My life experiences, both
the good AND the bad, are what made me who I am today. Without having
them both, who would I be today? Certainly not the Kelly that people
know me as. Sounds like a perfect illustration of the “butterfly effect”
if you ask me.
Rather than be remorseful over what’s happened to me, what I DO regret
are the things I have NOT done. At the top of that rather long list
standing head and shoulders above the rest is not giving my dad what he
craved most - his only daughter’s virginity. Sure, I know that
technically it wasn’t my fault as he never told me that it was something
he wanted before it was too late. I mean like how many girls would ever
even imagine in their wildest fantasies that their own father would
REALLY want to be their first? Still, it tugs at my heart strings
whenever I think about what I denied him, be it deliberately or not.
Next on my list of “regrets by default” would be pleasing my father even
before I became sexually active in the ways that I know today that he
wished that I had. Again, just as with my virginity issue everyone tells
me that I shouldn’t feel this way and if anything, it’s my mother’s
“fault” as she was the one who prevented anything like that from
happening. Maybe so but at the same time it’s not that she stopped me
from doing anything. It was more she managed to manipulate situations
such that the opportunity was never really there. I suppose most people
would say that it was a fine line for a mother to walk but in retrospect
she was pretty darn good at it!
At the risk of sounding defensive, as I mentioned earlier at that age I
never has a clue that my dad even fantasized about doing such things with
me. Of course I knew he was a man and that as a man he had natural
sexual desires and fantasies. It was sort of obvious given how often I
would see him masturbate, not to mention his huge collection of porn that
he would look at most nights. So what if 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. Knowing that he WAS a man, why would anyone expect me to
be surprised that he reacted in 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 easily tell that many
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 she would emphasize that the same principle applied to
my father. OK, so maybe she misled me just a wee bit but I also think
it’s important to note that she never actually STOPPED me from doing
anything. All she ever did was maneuver me in such a direction that I
never realized what my dad really wanted until I was sixteen years old,
long past when it would have made a difference so far as my dad was
concerned.
Thankfully although I got a late start I was still able to dedicate my
later teen years to pleasing my father and in return I was rewarded with
feelings of contentment and fulfillment that can only result from a
genuine incestual relationship. When I compare myself to most girls I
know I strongly believe that by engaging in incest with my father it
helped me to become more self-confident and at ease with myself. It gave
me a better understanding of my roles as his daughter as well as
developing the maturity that comes with accepting the responsibilities
that those roles demand. For me there was none of this “who am I?” crap
when I was growing up - I KNEW. I was my father’s daughter and I was
more than thrilled to give myself to him in every way he wanted without
question or hesitation.
As I dated more seriously and started to think about marriage, I became
more and more excited about the new role that I would hopefully be taking
on - that of being a wife. From the example set by my mother I wasn’t
worried that it would have any impact on my responsibilities as daughter.
Instead my expectations were that becoming a wife AND a daughter would
simply add all the more meaning and fulfillment to my life. The only
thing is because I didn’t really understanding things at that age, I
foolishly expected and planned to be totally faithful to my husband which
meant stopping having sex with men outside my marital family (although
blowjobs and such aren’t technically sex so they weren’t part of the
equation).
Sure to some extent I felt a little trepidation at this change in
lifestyle yet now I realize that this was just a natural case of nerves.
What excited me most was that while I still retained everything I already
had with my dad, in addition I now had my new husband’s love for me - a
love like that of no other man, not even my dad. Indeed, I’ve always
maintained that every man I have sex with, including my father, I have
“fucked”. It’s only when I have sex with my husband that I consider
myself “making love”.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, my new husband was more than anxious to
share me with other men rather than keep me locked away so my worries
about having to scale back my sex life turned out to be completely
unfounded. These days 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 are 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, 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 consider to be an
abnormally high sex drive, even to the point of being an incontrollable
compulsion. Indeed, when I was younger I saw him masturbate more than
most teenagers I came to know later. It wasn’t until much later that I
came to understand his preferences for younger girls - like eleven to
fifteen with 13-14 being his “sweet spot”. Once I did, it made me feel
even more guilty knowing how badly he wanted me when I was in that age
range and yet he wasn’t able to do with me the very things he craved so
badly. It also goes to show that even though my mother submitted to him
properly as his wife, he also honored her morals and commitments when it
came to youth sex and thus refrained from pushing me into a sexual
relationship.
This to me is a defining element of my parent’s marriage given that by
virtue of the fact he was her husband he COULD have demanded that she put
aside her own feelings on the matter and allow him take me as he pleased,
as was his right as my father. Yet because he loved her so much he would
never do such a thing. Now THAT is the perfect example of a Christian
marriage based on love and submission if there ever was one. As I’ve
heard it said, “With great power comes great responsibility.”
Fortunately for everyone involved, I eventually came to realize how much
I wanted my father sexually after seeing him making love to my mother for
the first time. They had no idea I was watching them in the hot tub from
my upstairs bedroom window (or so I thought at the time) and to see how
they were able to express their love for each other in a way I’d never
seen before made me want to be able to do the same - both giving AND
receiving.
Thus began a new phase in my relationship with my family, especially my
father, that has grown and matured to what we share today. Like any
relationship things have changed over the years but the basis supporting
it has never wavered. I am his daughter, he is my father, and as such I
will do ANYTHING to please him and satisfy the basic needs he requires
both as a man and a father.
It’s important for me at least that people take careful note of 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 sordid or perverted like that. I don’t lust for him or
crave sex with him just for the sake of having sex. Frankly, and don’t
take this as bragging, I don’t need him for that. I’ve always had more
than enough men and boys ready and willing to take care of my physical
needs on a moment’s notice. Personally, I believe that ANY girl who says
otherwise simply isn’t trying very hard!
So back to where I was going... 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 his
loving and willing daughter. Even when I role play for him like as a
naughty schoolgirl or French maid, it’s STILL me as his daughter and
never like I was some other woman that he was cheating on my mother with.
As I’ve mentioned, when I got older our relationship matured and changed
accordingly. No longer was I sweet sixteen teenage girl as I became a
twenty-something woman. Actually even at the age of sixteen I was
already beginning to move out of the age range of his usual interests.
Still, being his daughter easily trumped the normal cutoff age for him.
Regardless, I could definitely sense a difference in our sex relationship
as I became more “adult”. Of course he has always loved fucking me as
his daughter, but it was hard not to notice that I wasn’t totally
fulfilling that more hidden part of him that craved the younger girls.
So 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!). These days though the spontaneity has become much
less and instead we meet regularly every Sunday just before church for a
quickie. It doesn’t really matter in that while our “traditions” may
have changed it’s the principle that really 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. Another key difference between
my father and husband is that Steve loves to watch other men fuck me
whereas my dad is 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 has no
idea that he fucks me later whereas with Steve the other guy 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 as Steve is the first place I look when I 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 as a
wife I have similar responsibilities when it comes to pleasing 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 is one more relevant to what happened this day - public sex. Of
course both men like it - they ARE men after all and what man doesn’t
want to take 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’ve been quite significant, to say the
least. Although he wouldn’t go to jail today, old habits can be really
engrained.
On the other hand, Steve is all about watching me getting fucked or
whatever else he can dream up for me in public. Whether it be dancing
half naked on a stage for a wet T-shirt contest, sucking and fucking
other men (and women) at a party, teasing the guys at a bar, or just
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 all the while 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 27/4
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 have loved to spend the day with him, I was happy that
he had the chance to spend some private time with his mom for once.
Rather than spend the entire day alone, I called up my dad only to have
my Aunt Linda answer the phone. Oh well, 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 iPhone 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. Indeed, I hadn’t slept an
entire night with my dad since I’d been married! Well... it’s not like
I’d be getting much sleep if I did but you get the idea.
Chapter 3 - In-Laws
===================
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 have read my entire diary will 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 day Steve that fucked his mother for the LAST time.
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 they did
things that probably neither of them ever anticipated could ever happen -
and regretted it afterwards. Here’s the scenario at the time... You had
a recently divorced mother with serious self-esteem issues caused by her
jerk of a husband and father of three children when he dumped her for a
young blonde bimbo at work. Add to the mix a horny sixteen year-old boy
who, like just about every sixteen year-old boy, was ready to fuck
anything with a pussy given the chance. Blend them together in a setting
where the son is regularly screwing his fourteen year-old ultra-horny
girlfriend (me!) totally unaware that his inquisitive mother is spying on
everything and then you tell me if what happened next was really so
unbelievable.
Since that time though, neither of them has ever discussed that day with
me and if anything it’s proven to be one of the few topics that can draw
Steve and me into a serious argument. As such it was a serious concern
of mine when he was getting 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. Although I had an option as to whether or not I married Steve,
there were no potions when it came to the simple fact that I was my
father’s daughter.
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 openly oppose the attention I
give to my dad’s needs, at the same time he simply doesn’t want to
discuss it or even be told about it.
What has evolved between my husband and mother-in-law is a bit odd, to
say the least. If you don’t want to believe me all I can say is I don’t
blame you one bit - I didn’t either at first and I was seeing it all
first hand. Indeed, it took me quite a while to come to grips with it
and even now I still find myself shaking my head in disbelief at times.
Perhaps the easiest way to explain their weird relationship would be to
imagine two middle-school kids making out on the living room couch at a
party. Yep, lots of groping and kissing but nothing actually happening.
The first time Steve’s mom watched him fucking me after we got married I
was hoping for a repeat of what had happened over a dozen years before...
and then maybe more. Well, nothing could be further from what happened
in that ALL she did was watch. Heck, my own mother at least usually at
least masturbated when she watched my dad fucking me but Steve’s mom
wouldn’t even do THAT!
Watching Steve and his mom kissing and fondling each other, I’ve always
marveled at the self-control each of them exercise. I know both of them
are very sexual in nature but yet somehow their wandering hands never go
under the other’s clothes, at least not down to the skin. Like maybe
under her blouse but only if she had a bra underneath. True, there’s not
much difference in fondling a boob or rubbing a pussy through a thin
piece of sheer lingerie as compared to directly I contact with bare skin
but apparently to them it DID make a difference. There may not be much
of a line for them but what little bit there is, they never cross it.
Deep down I keep hoping that one of these days they’ll choose to stop
with the façade and have sex like a normal mother and son. Did I think
it would happen this weekend? No. Still, that didn’t mean I couldn't
have a nice day with my own dad and trust me, I was planning on LOTS of
incestual sex!
Chapter 4 - Getting Ready for My Dad
====================================
Given it was a Sunday, showing up at my dad’s place in the morning before
church wasn’t going to be any sort of surprise. Actually it would’ve
only been worthy of note if I DIDN’T show up. If there’s one thing my
father 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 fuck me and deposit his cum in me literally just minutes before the
service was a tradition we’d established over the past few years and
neither of us wanted to break from it unless absolutely unavoidable. Of
course it didn’t hurt that I absolutely love the naughty feeling I get
when sitting in church just minutes after we’ve had sex, sometimes even
leaking a little bit as we sit in the pews looking so prim and proper.
Just imagine if the people around us had a clue as to the truth!
At the start of this day things were no different than any other Sunday
morning with me standing in front of my closet debating with myself over
which outfit to wear. Dang, like how many years of my life have been
wasted in this very situation? Probably no more than any other woman I
suppose.
Looking in my closet, it was like I had two wardrobes - one for work and
one for everywhere else. Although I keep them separated I doubt anyone
would have any problems distinguishing between them. My work clothes are
what I guess you could call “necessary evils”. Teachers in public
schools are under more scrutiny than ever these days when it comes to
teacher-student relationships and heaven help any teacher that doesn’t
conform to the strict rules imposed by the school board. Basically the
dress code for teacher forbade anything that could possibly be construed
as “sexy” or “suggestive”. Needless to say underwear, both bras and
panties, was a non-negotiable requirement. Even though they should never
be visible, just in case even these had to be conservative which meant no
thongs, lacy décolleté bras or the like. Nothing strapless for sure and
sleeveless tops and dresses were generally frowned upon and worn only at
your own risk. Dresses were preferred for women over skirts and in
either case, the hem had to be below the knee. No plunging necklines and
absolutely no cleavage was allowed to be on display - especially when
leaning over. I could go on in more detail but I think everyone should
be getting the picture by now.
On a more positive note, the one good thing, if you could call it that,
was that the public school is a lot less strict than the private
Christian school I’d worked at prior. Dang, back then it was like we the
cast for Little House on the Prairie! At least now I can show a LITTLE
leg, LOL.
Well, 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
over half have been bought by someone else. When I was younger that
would have been my dad and while he still enjoys giving me the occasional
new outfit to model for him, these days my husband is the one bringing
home the sexy outfits. As he does most of his shopping on-line in
reality it’s really the FedEx and UPS man doing the actually delivery but
the principle’s the same.
Today I would be going to church after seeing my dad which meant I wanted
to choose something that would catch people’s eye but at the same time,
nothing TOO inappropriate as it WAS church after all. Since I first
entered puberty I’ve always love seeing the guys stare at me, even more
so the older married men chained to their boring wife and kids. While I
love seeing the desire in their eyes, in some ways I almost get more of a
thrill from the evil eye looks I get from their wives. Their looks of
disdain, sometimes even to the point of disgust, tell me everything I
want to know when it came to the impact I’m having on their husbands!
It was a nice day in May so typically on such a day I might choose 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 get yet another talking to by the church leadership. It
has been years actually since my last little “discussion” with the church
elders. After the last incident we seem to have reached a truce when it
comes to my church attire and I really didn’t want to reopen the topic.
Today though I wanted something special for my dad so I figured it was
time to perhaps push the line just a little. Hopefully not go flying
over the line as I was prone to do when I was younger but still enough to
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, sort of a “peasant girl” style that my dad had
bought for me many years before. These days it barely contained my boobs
and definitely emphasized what I had 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 of 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 could practically expose 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. Of course
there was no bra suitable for such an outfit so there wasn’t any issue
for me in choosing one. Not that I ever wore one away from work for that
matter anyways. I was about to put on a new pair of peach colored high
heels when I hesitated... Hmmmmmm, hose or not?
Now 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. When I ask someone who I suspect to be a
man pretending to be a woman what “her” pantyhose size is (usually after
I’ve led up to the question by talking about lingerie and such) I get one
of three responses:
1. “I don’t wear any.” Yeah right. This is such a BS answer as EVERY
woman knows her sizes regardless of whether or not she wears that
particular item. This serves as an instant exposure as a fake.
2. A wrong size. Typically I get a pant size as a response. Another
instant exposure of a faker.
3. A right size but only after a long delay. This tells me they were
smart enough to know they didn’t know the answer so they looked it
up on-line before getting back to me. Yep, another faker.
Like most women, I don’t LIKE pantyhose per se. If I knew nobody would
see me then I’d never wear them. I mean no woman wears them around the
house when they’re all alone! That said, I DO like how they make my legs
look, particularly until I get my summer tan going strong. Pasty white
legs just don’t go with an expensive new dress. Also, when it’s 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 the more rare case. Still, today I wanted to look my best
so with a shrug I dug out a pair of nude pantyhose and pulled it on
before dropping my dress over my head. Checking myself out in the
mirror, my legs DID look a lot better. It would unlikely draw a sigh
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 wasn’t one of these guys - he’d
simply have me nude around him 24/7 if given the choice, yet somehow I
doubted he would complain TOO much!
Looking through my jewelry box, I picked out the beautiful gold ankle
chain he’d bought me as well as a gold and diamond cross which was
another gift from my dad. One thing I learned early... if you want more
jewelry, be sure to wear what he’s already given you.
Hmmmmmm, shoes? I must have a couple dozen pairs of heels of one sort or
another but then can a girl EVER have too many? With the outfit I was
wearing and the venue where I’d be wearing it the “appropriate” choice
would be something open toed with a moderate heel, maybe just an inch or
two at most. But then when had I ever conformed to wearing anything
“appropriate”, at least when I had a choice? Rummaging through them, I
pulled out a pretty black pair of pumps I hadn’t worn in quite a while.
There wasn’t much to them which of course made them one of my more
expensive pair. Funny how most women’s clothing works that way - the
less there is the more it costs! The four inch spike heels didn’t
qualify as my highest pair but they were at least walkable in that I
didn’t stumble over each minor imperfection on the floor. At the same
time they definitely sent out the message “slut” that I was looking for.
Grabbing a clutch that matched my outfit, I checked in on my sleep-head
husband. As usual for a Sunday morning, he was sound asleep and no doubt
would be until noon. I smiled as I gazed lovingly at his nude body
stretched out on the bed before me. Never one to keep the covers on, he
was laying more or less on his side which gave me a great view of my
favorite part of his anatomy. Granted, it wasn’t much to look at for the
moment but memories of how it had felt in me the night before made my
pussy tingle. As tempting as it was to lean over and give him a little
kiss on the tip, I knew better. Once that train left the station it was
all but impossible to stop until it had made it to the next stop!
Car keys in hand, I headed out to the parking lot where the summer sun
was already heating up the interior. Turning out of the lot, I bit my
lip in anticipation. No matter how many times my dad and I may have sex,
I don’t think there will ever come a time when it’s “just another time”.
There’s something special about giving yourself to you own father that
makes it different from anything else in the world and each time it was
like we were doing it again for the first time. Well, maybe not THAT
special but you know what I mean!
Arriving finally, I parked on the street in front of my dad’s house as I
knew he’d want to take his SUV to church and the driveway was only a
single car wide. Stepping out onto the brick street, I stood there for a
moment looking at my old home. Wow, the memories that came flooding
back! While I may not live there anymore, I don’t think I’ll ever think
of it as anything but “home”. Taking a deep breath, I walked
deliberately up the sidewalk to the front porch and rang the doorbell...
Chapter 5 - Tradition Satisfied
===============================
“Good grief Kelly, since when do you ring the doorbell?” my aunt
chastised me playfully as she opened the door almost before my finger was
off the ringer. Then she looked at me closer and raised her eyebrows.
“Damn girl, looking hot today!”
I just smiled sweetly as I stepped into the house and then turned to her
and kissed her. Of course in my family, a kiss is never just a peck on
the cheek so as our lips pressed tightly together her tongue reached out
for mine and we made out for a few minutes before separating.
“I suppose you’re anxious to get to your father,” she said with a matter
of fact tone such that it wasn’t a question so much as a statement.
“Well, he’s upstairs and I KNOW for a fact that he’s anxious!”
She just grinned after dropping that little nugget and even if I HAD
wanted to ask her for an explanation I figured it was best not to rise
for the bait as I was sure she was hoping I would.
“So you coming with us this morning?” I asked her. Sometimes my Aunt
Linda would attend church with us, sometimes not. Lately it seemed the
“not” was winning out though. Before long she’d be as bad as my husband
when it came to attending church. I knew someday I’d have to address
this with Steve before our kids got older but for now it just wasn’t
worth the debate.
“Nawwwwww, really not in the mood to get dressed this morning.”
By getting dressed she meant putting on ANY clothes as at the moment she
was nude, as usual. Aunt Linda was the designated family nudist of sorts
in that she was always running around the house naked. For one reason or
another she was the only one in our family to have that penchant and I
sometimes wondered where she’d picked it up. Her sister, AKA my mother,
was a definite bra and panties girl which were usually further covered by
a shirt, robe, or something similar. Her daughter, my slutty cousin
Kristi, was the topless one in the family, always running around in a
tiny thong or whatever suited her fancy but usually without anything on
top. Now if anyone was going to take after her mother I would’ve thought
it would be Kristi given her previous successful career as a prostitute
but then she would always remind me that typically she wasn’t nude even
back then. As for me, my dad likes to call me his bare-ass girl. It’s a
little weird how each of us has come to have our own “style” when it
comes to what we wear around the house in private but then it seems to
work. Not like my dad has ever complained.
Aunt Linda wiggled her bare butt at me almost defiantly as she
disappeared towards the kitchen in back. I had to say, for a women
approaching her late forties her ass was looking pretty darn good! As
for me, the stairs leading to the second floor were right next to the
entrance so up I headed up without wasting any more time. There was less
than an hour to go before church started and while that was actually a
pretty good margin compared to most days, I didn’t want to have to feel
rushed today.
Pausing at the landing about two-thirds of the way up, I found myself
debating as to whether wearing panty hose had really been such a good
idea. Regardless I still had the thong on so it wasn’t like I needed
them for any public decency concerns - as if THAT ever deterred me.
Unfortunately at this point it would be a pain to have to undo my heels
to get them off so instead I just went up the remaining four steps until
I was standing outside his bedroom door. Peering inside, I was
momentarily disappointed to find it empty. Now where the heck was he?
“Hey baby girl!”
I almost peed my panties! He must have been just inside the bathroom
behind me and startled the crap out of me.
“Daddy!” I huffed in exasperation, “You trying to give me a heart
attack?”
“Sorry, couldn't resist,” he chuckled, “You must have jumped a foot!”
My dad had such a grin on his face that I couldn’t be mad at him.
Besides, when could I ever be made at my dad when his dick was as hard as
it was right now and I knew it was that way because of me, his daughter.
He must’ve just stepped out of the shower as his hair was still wet and
from the fog in the bathroom I could see the vent fan was working as
poorly as ever.
Reaching down instinctively, I took his erection in my hand and just held
on to it as he pulled me up into him with one arm around my neck and the
other hand planted firmly on my ass. We kissed like teenage lovers as he
pulled up my dress to find my pantyhose-covered butt.
“Pantyhose?”
A single word but the tone of his voice spoke volumes. It wasn’t just a
question but more like he couldn't believe what he was saying.
Immediately I regretted my decisions - first in picking them out to begin
with and second, for not taking advantage of my opportunity to remove
them on the landing just moments earlier.
“Damn, that’s sexy. You haven’t worn these in ages.”
Surprise! Well, maybe I wasn’t going to regret my decision after all.
“God I’m so fucking horny!” he whispered to me as our lips barely parted,
“It was all I could do in the shower to keep from cumming just thinking
about you and that sexy ass.”
“I love you daddy,” I responded, thinking to myself I was glad he had
managed such self-control. No matter how horny he might be, he was
almost fifty now and mind over matter only went so far these days.
With that he reached under me and lifted my off my feet and carried me to
his bed, carefully lowering me down after which he immediately lifted my
dress and surveyed the challenge before him.
“You know, you look incredible but these still just have to go!”
With that he grabbed the top of my hose and began to work it down over my
butt and thighs. I lifted my ass up to make it easier for him which was
also being a little selfish on my part. As hard as his dick was I had no
doubt it was all he could do not to just tear them open and ruin yet
another expensive pair of pantyhose of mine so I didn’t want to frustrate
him sexually any more than he was already. Soon he had them rolled down
to my ankles. I figured he would work on my heels next but patience
wasn’t one of my dad’s strong suits when he was uber horny.
“Daddy!” I squealed playfully as he pulled my thong to the side, all but
ripping it in the process.
“Oh shut up, you love it!” he grunted as he twisted me so I was laying
with my legs over the edge. He lifted my feet up and over his shoulders
as he descended to my crotch and started to lick me.
“Oh Daddy!” I sighed with delight as his tongue worked on me. I could
feel his nose pressing against my clit as he pushed one finger inside of
me. I was already pretty wet and all he did was make me go from being
wet to soaking wet.
His finger was joined by a second as his lips encircled by swelling clit
and then his tongue teased the tip of it. Oh damn it felt good!
My father wasn’t the only the one who was horny and it didn’t take a lot
of effort on his part before I had my first orgasm. It was one of the
“holy crap” ones that just hits you and quickly overwhelms you before you
even realize what’s happening. It was like one minute I was loving the
feel of his fingers in me and his face pressed against my wet crotch and
the next the fireworks went off all at once, like I went straight to the
finale.
“OH MY GOD!” I cried out as he relentlessly continued his assault on my
pussy, elevating my orgasm even higher. Just as I thought I couldn't go
any higher, suddenly he stood up, push me back onto my back even more and
without hardly missing a step he was in me.
It happened so quickly I barely even realized what he was doing. As wet
as I was his hard incestuous cock easily slid into me and next thing I
knew my pussy was clamping around him like a vise as my initial orgasm
was followed by another of even more magnitude.
With my pantyhose holding my ankles like they were tied together I
straddled my dad’s neck with my legs. He already had his strong hands
under my all but bare butt, lifting me up into him as he drove his
incestuous erection into his daughter’s willing pussy over and over again
with increasing lust.
Somehow I managed to open my eyes and look up at my father as he fucked
me. The look on his face reminded me yet again of why this was one of
the most precious times we could spend together. It was at moments like
this, those special times when he was inside of me and all his most base
instincts and desires were set free, when I became more than just his
daughter to him and he saw me as the ultimate prize that made me feel
more special and loved by him than at any other time.
Also, in some ways it was almost scary. I don’t mean that in a bad way
but at the same time it goes to show much I trust him and love my father.
When a man gets so deep into his most animal-like lust, as my dad was at
this moment, I know that all he cares about is fucking me and mating me.
It’s like being at the bottom of a mountain and seeing an avalanche
heading your way. It’s going to happen and there’s nothing that can stop
it. Not that I would even dream of wanting him to stop, it’s just the
point.
“Fuck me daddy,” I begged him, “Give it to me... cum in me, please
daddy!”
One thing I LOVE about when my dad fucks me - 99% of the time he cums in
my pussy. None of this squirting on my face or boobs like I was some
whore in a porn flick. When my father comes he gives me his sperm where
a man should when he wants to demonstrate his love and respect for me -
in my pussy. To feel this incredibly satisfied and then have a man pull
out of me just as he is about to climax has to be one of the most selfish
things a man can do. From a girl’s perspective it makes it all about him
without any consideration for her. Since the very first time my dad
fucked me and came deep inside of me, it’s almost like an unwritten pact
between us that he never pulls out. Well, almost never but then he’s a
man and sometimes men do things without thinking when they get horny!
My dad hadn’t been fucking me for more than a few minutes before he
couldn't hold back any more. Damn, he really WAS horny! I was on the
verge of cumming again when suddenly I felt his cock slam deep inside of
me and then he held himself there, a sure sign of what was to come... or
should I say cum?
“God I love you Kelly!” he groaned as he ejaculated as deep into my pussy
as he could.
As he came I tried to imagine the streams of cum emerging from the tip of
his cock, propelled even further up inside of me. With my eyes tightly
closed, I could only think of how much my father must love me to give me
the most intimate gift a man can possibly give a woman.
Exhausted, he dropped down on top of me, barely keeping his full weight
off of me as he caught himself on his elbows with his dick still pushed
into me as far as he could. I could feel the base of his thick shaft
pressing up against my crotch, pressing against me and pushing me up onto
the bed more. It was like now that he had mated me he didn’t want it to
leave me and if anything, I wanted him to stay in me even more.
“Oh daddy, you’re cock feels so good in me.”
“Yes baby girl... I could just be like this with you forever.”
As rapidly as he was dwindling that wasn’t going to happen but I took in
as much as I could before he finally slipped out of me, followed by a
small flood of sperm and cum that I could feel dribble down over my ass
on top the bed covers. Oh well, not like it was the first time it had
been soaked in cum and surely not the last!
“Hey, do I need to remind you two what time it is?”
I lifted my head as best I could to see my aunt standing nude in the
doorway. I suppose it’s redundant to say she was standing there nude as
she always stands there nude, LOL.
“Now THAT was quite the show I have to admit,” she grinned.
“Couldn't resist, could you Linda?” my dad retorted seeming a little
ticked off. It’s not like he didn’t like anyone watching him fuck me -
my mom use to all the time when I loved at home. It was not knowing she
was watching that I think sort of pissed him off.
“Hey, not like either of you would’ve cared.”
She was right but then my dad wasn’t about to agree with her. Rather
than argue though, he reached for his clothes so he could get dressed. I
looked at the clock on the dresser and damn, we only had about fifteen
minutes to get to the church! Looked like we were going to be
“fashionable late” yet again.
My aunt entered and wrinkled her nose. “You really need another shower
John. You don’t want to go to church smelling like sex, do you?”
My dad started to say something and for a moment I thought he was going
to follow her suggestion.
“Dad!” I interjected, nodding my head towards the clock.
For a moment he hesitated and then looked at my aunt and shrugged.
“Well, guess if my own daughter doesn’t mind then why should I?”
Rebuked by my dad, she turned her attention to me and stepped up closer
to the bed where I had my feet held close together on the edge by my
panty hose with my knees spread wide apart.
“Really?” was all she said, her eyes glancing down to my cum-spilling
pussy.
“Please, just give me a wash cloth and I’ll be fine.”
With a bit of melodrama she rolled her eyes and hurried to the bathroom
and quickly returned with a warm damp wash cloth. I reached for it but
she waved me off and went to work on my crotch, cleaning off my dad’s
mess.
“Jesus John, I’m impressed!” she giggled seeing the flood of cum that had
drained from my well-fucked pussy.
She had most of me cleaned up when she moved forward and dropped her head
between my legs, licking my pussy with her tongue and sucking out
whatever cum was left that she could gather. Wiping her face off with
the cloth, she turned to my dad again.
“There, that should keep her decent.”
My dad just laughed as he buttoned his shirt. “Any excuse to lick her
pussy, eh Linda?”
“What can I say John? Looked too delicious to pass up.”
I finally managed to sit up and then started to work on getting my hose
back up again. It didn’t take long to realize it was a useless effort as
all my dad’s fumbling with it had left several runs. Crap, another pair
ruined! Oh well, so I finally took off my heels, pulled off the hose and
dumped it in the small garbage can in the corner of the room, and put my
heels back on again. Rearranging my thong, for a moment I contemplated
leaving it off as well but then figured it might come in handy should any
more of my dad’s cum try making it out the exit while I was sitting in
the pews at church.
“Well, you too look great,” my aunt complimented us as we hurried out of
the room. Church would be starting in a few minutes and if we hurried we
could get there before the first hymn was over.
Actually we made it at the end of the second one but nobody really seemed
to notice. The sanctuary was rather sparse and we had no problems
finding a pew with plenty of space remaining about half way down. As we
took our seats when the organ music died, I sat up tight against my dad
and crossed my legs to give him a nice view. God, my pussy felt like it
was on fire! I glanced down at his crotch and it was almost impossible
to imagine that just a few minutes earlier and he had been buried deep
inside of me!
Looking around, I spotted a family in the pew ahead of us with a cute
teenage daughter parked between mom and dad. She looked to be maybe
sixteen or seventeen and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had fucked her
this morning? If he had, who would know? Why would anyone suspect that
my dad had fucked me any more than him fucking his daughter? After all,
when I was her age my dad was doing me and nobody in the church had a
clue!
After the service was over, we started to make our way out of the
sanctuary when I spotted someone I knew ahead of us. When I say “knew”,
I mean that in the biblical meaning in that he had fucked me a couple of
years before. It was just one of my typical conquests in that at the
time he had a daughter who was a freshman in high school plus two younger
boys and a shrewish wife, putting him right in my crosshairs. To be
honest, it hadn’t been all that hard to seduce him, almost to where I
felt guilty afterwards... almost! He’d tried several times to get me to
do it again with him but I knew that doing so would only lead to
complications and besides, for me it’s all about getting him to cross the
line. Once he was there then what was the point after that? I wasn’t
sure why - maybe his wife had found out, but I hadn’t seen him in church
much after that. I was pretty sure his daughter was now married -
pregnant I believe if the rumors were true, and judging from the body
language things with his wife hadn’t improved either.
“You OK?” my dad asked, giving me a nudge and I realized I was sort of
holding up the line getting out.
“Sure, why?”
“You just seemed distracted, that’s all.”
I grinned and nodded just ever so slightly towards the direction of the
wayward husband.
“Really?” my dad grinned, “You and him?... when?”
“Oh it was a couple of years ago at least.”
My dad rolled his eyes slightly but then he leaned over to whisper in my
ear, “Ahhhhhh yes, I remember his daughter... damn she was hot.”
We both smiled and then continued our way out until we finally got to
shake the pastor’s hand. His wife was standing next to him and although
she shook my hand, it certainly wasn’t an enthusiastic one. Then again,
she and I had never gotten along very well. She didn’t like the way I
dressed and acted in church and I didn’t like the way she was always
prying into my business so it was sort of a mutual dislike. Still, we
both faked a smile and greeting, just enough to be proper if not
sociable.
Back in the car my dad turned to me and laughed.
“You two are never going to bury the hatchet, are you?”
I looked at him as if I had no idea what he was talking about so he just
sat back in the seat and started the SUV.
“Don’t give me that innocent look.”
“She’s a bitch daddy.”
“Yes but she’s the pastor’s bitch so you need to behave with her.”
Reaching over to his pants as he waited for the cars to clear before
pulling out of our space, I unzipped them and started to undo the belt
buckle and pants as well.
“I just wish the old hag could see me sucking your dick in the church
parking lot.”
“Oh sure, like THAT would solve anything.”
Although he was trying to act like nothing was happening, his “lie
detector” hadn’t gotten the memo. Reaching into his underwear, I felt
his stiff cock and pulled it out enough for me to get a firm grip on it.
It had been well over an hour since he’d fucked me and while sometimes
these days it took longer for him to recover fully, he wasn’t doing a bad
job of it today.
Well, it may not have been any help regarding my on-going feud with the
pastor’s wife but it certainly didn’t seem to bother my dad! Although he
hadn’t cum yet by the time we pulled into the driveway, since he was in
the garage and able to sit back without the distraction of traffic I was
rewarded for my efforts within minutes.
Chapter 6 - Satisfying My Father’s Needs
========================================
Usually after church we would go out for lunch but today we didn’t even
discuss it and instead he headed straight for home. After finishing my
blowjob, we got out of the SUV and headed into the basement to which the
garage was attached. The house was a typical Pittsburgh style home
meaning it was built on a hill such that the front entrance was at street
level but the driveway plunged down one story to where the garage was on
the back of the house at the level of the basement. I guess back when
the house was built about eighty years before the garage was actually IN
the basement but sometime in the past someone had added an external
garage. In any case, to get in the house from the garage you entered the
basement where the family room was. Actually this was often handy as the
laundry was there was well so if the weather was bad or we were returning
from a trip we could just drop out stuff off without havening to carry it
further into the house.
Closing the overhead garage door and then the entrance to the basement
behind us, my dad reached out for me and took my arm, turning me around
and pulling me back into him.
“You are the most wonderful daughter a father could ever ask for Kelly.”
My heart swelled as he leaned over to kiss me. It wasn’t like the kiss
of my husband or even that of a boyfriend or lover yet at the same time
it wasn’t like what most girls share with their father. Just as sex with
my dad was special, so was kissing him. It was my father loving me as
his daughter as only a father can - I don’t know how else to describe it!
“I guess we sort of messed up on lunch today,” he apologized, “Seems
someone was distracting me after church.”
I just grinned at him and licked my lips as naughty as I could for him.
I could still taste the cum in my mouth from when he had filled it in the
SUV just a few minutes before. While my dad was about as straight as any
man could be and as such he normally avoided even touching his cum, I
knew when we kissed he had to taste himself on my mouth and it just
showed me how much he loved me knowing he somehow managed to put aside
his feelings on the matter and kissed me anyway.
“I’m sure Linda has something we can fix or whatever,” he mused and then
he got this look in his eye which I knew all too well. Uh-oh, now what?
“So with your hubby out does that mean you’ll be staying the afternoon?”
Technically I guess I’d never come right out and said it but that had
been my plan all along but still, it didn’t hurt to have him think he had
just talked me into it. Men are easy to manipulate and one of the most
time-tested methods was to let them think something was THEIR idea, even
when it wasn’t.
“Sure daddy, anything for you. Anything...”
I let the last word drag out slowly, my meaning obvious. My dad can take
a hint and he just smiled at me as we kissed yet again.
“Will you do something for me then?”
I just looked up at him and nodded. Like I was ever going to say no to
him?
“I want you to be naked for me... I mean totally nude. All day until you
go home.”
Now THAT was a rather unusual request. In fact, I couldn't even recall
him ever asking me to do this, at least not in quite this way. Oh well,
not like it would kill me to run around nude for a day.
“So like right now?”
He grinned and nodded eagerly, more like a teenage boy than a grown man.
It only took me a few minutes to strip. Actually it would have been
faster except I hung up my dress and laid out my thong to air out - a bit
of my dad’s cum had leaked out of me during church obviously. I was left
in just my heels, ankle bracelet and necklace.
“You can ditch the heels Kelly, I know they have to kill your feet.”
Well, I didn’t give him a chance to change his mind and quickly dropped
them off as well leaving me standing barefoot and naked in front of my
father. I struck a pose and smiled at him.
“Like what you see daddy?”
Like duh! He WAS my father after all so what would he ever say but that
he loved seeing me naked? Still, it’s always nice to hear.
“You are the most beautiful daughter a father could ever ask for,” he
answered me smiling, “And the sexiest to boot.”
“So what, am I the only one being nude here or what?”
He took my not-so-subtle hint and hurriedly undressed. His dick hung
limp and I knew after the activities so far today it was going to be a
while before it was ready to go back into action. A few extra pounds and
a little hairier than I normally would prefer but for a guy pushing fifty
he didn’t look all that bad.
“So now what?”
It was more to maintain the conversation yet I was also interested in his
plans. What was the point in getting me naked so quickly anyway? It’s
not like he really cared in the past when I had something on. After all,
a cami doesn’t exactly interfere with him poking his cock in me!
“Well, why don’t we take a seat and see what comes up?”
I pretended to grimace at his poor attempt at humor. Yeah, like I
couldn't figure THAT one out! In any case, we made our way into the
family room area. Our basement was laid out long before “open concept”
became the buzz word for home renovations. The only real separation of
the so-called “family room” and the rest of the basement was just the way
the furniture was laid out such that anyone seated had a good view of the
huge flat screen TV. I don’t know how many inches it is, just that it’s
HUGE! It was a lot better than the old projection-style monster that we
had when I was living here, taking up only a fraction of the space yet
with a much better picture.
I stretched out on the couch. Mmmmmmm, this couch and I shared a LOT of
memories. It was pretty ragged but like an old friends, I hoped my dad
would never get a new one in its place. I suppose some people might find
it pretty gross considering the stains but like scars, each was like a
historical marker for something that had happened in the past.
My dad took his assigned seat in the Lazy-Boy. Unlike the couch, this
had been replaced numerous times over the years and I noticed the latest
version was different from the all the rest in that it was leather, or at
least faux leather. There was a bath towel though covering the bottom
which undoubtedly made it more comfy at times like this when he was
naked. Then again, my dad was hardly ever nude except the usual places -
bedroom, bathroom, and back deck (primarily for the hot tub). I figured
it was probably there more for my aunt’s use than his but for today it
was coming in handy.
Reaching to the side or the bottom shelf of the lamp stand beside his
chair, my dad pulled out his DVD collection, or at least the ones he kept
handy. Not like they were exactly Oscar winners though. My dad only
bought one type of movie - porn movies. Anything else you might find
around the house would have had to be purchased by someone else. With
all the on-line downloading these days you would think he would have
converted to a less cumbersome means of storage but in some ways my dad
was old-school, especially when it came to technology. Heck, I think he
still listened to music on cassettes in his SUV!
Leaning over, he dropped the heavy case in front of me saying, “Your turn
to choose.”
I almost laughed but contained my mirth. My turn? Yeah right, like it
was EVER my turn. Had it truly been my turn we would have watched
something with at least a hint of redeeming value. While I don’t
necessarily find porn disgusting or degrading per se, I do feel about
some forms that I WOULD feel that way regardless of what the plot was. I
take porn for what it primarily is intended - masturbation fodder for
men. Do I feel it degrades me as a woman? That’s just silly. Like who
takes porn seriously?
Looking through his DVD collection (at least he finally had converted
over all his VHS tapes!), I skipped by all the newer stuff. To me, it’s
pretty much all the same. Either just pointless sex or the latest fad of
“reality” porn with fake job interviews, calendar shoots, etc. Working
my way towards the back, I came across some of the old-school stuff from
the 70’s and 80’s. Well, if nothing else at least back then they TRIED
to pretend to be actors and actresses. True, the plot lines were
ridiculous but at least you got some entertainment instead of just one
sex scene after another.
Ahhhhh, “Taboo IV”, one of my favorites. If I had to pick a favorite
porn star that it would be Ginger Lynn. In her better days she was
pretty and “innocent”, at least as innocent as a whore can look on camera
because face it, she WAS nothing more than a whore. Still, for someone
like me who comes from an incest family the movie was almost comical.
Like I would ever crawl into bed and fuck my dad while my mom slept,
totally clueless. OK, so maybe I HAVE done that but it wasn’t like my
mom would have been surprised if she woke up. The only reason we kept
quiet was so we wouldn’t disturb her sleep!
I handed the disc to my dad with a smile.
“Again?” he asked with a sigh, “Thanks god it’s digitalized now. I think
you would have worn the tape out by now otherwise.
What could I say? Back when I was just starting to date I must have
watched this one dozens of times, especially some of the blowjob scenes
by Ginger Lynn and Karen Summers. Damn, talk about two experts! To this
day I’ll readily confess to stealing many of their techniques. While the
last thing I would ever be is a porn star, I have to say there are times
when I would watch and be jealous because they seemed to so thoroughly
enjoy themselves being fucked to where it was like they weren’t even
acting.
My dad put the DVD in the player and sat back in his chair where he use
the remote to get it started. As it went through the slow opening scenes
he turned to me and I saw that while he had one hand wrapped around his
flaccid dick, it was almost like he was just doing it out of habit and
not with any real idea of what he was doing. Well, given how much dad
masturbated, I suppose that happens!
“You know Kelly, I remember back when you were younger and we use to sit
around like this watching TV. Do you? Shit, this brings back so many
memories.”
He saw the look of admonishment on my face after he swore and apologized,
“Sorry I meant shoot.”
It’s not like I’m some sort of prude when it came to language but there’s
a time and place for swearing. Sitting in the family room carrying on a
nice discussion with your daughter... NOT one of those times or places.
I just smiled. Maybe it was the same in terms of us both being together
watching TV but from there the similarities took divergent paths. First
and the most obvious, we were naked - NOT our usual state back then. In
fact, I couldn’t remember ANY time before we started having sex that I
just hung around the house with my dad and we were both nude. Also,
while my dad often masturbated when he watched porn - with or without me
in the room, he didn’t make a show of it and if I wasn’t actually looking
for it then I would often not even notice. Even then he usually did it
under his shorts or pajama bottoms, not out in the open in front of me.
Of course I knew what he was doing but the point being it wasn’t intended
to be a spectator sport.
“How’s Steve’s collection coming along?”
I knew he wasn’t referring to my husband’s African butterfly collection!
“I don’t really know Dad. He downloads most of it from the Internet onto
some big hard drive. Who knows what’s all on it.”
“Well, you know he’s always free to copy mine,” my dad offered.
Actually Steve HAD copied a great deal of my dad’s collection shortly
after we got married and my dad first offered it to him as a show of
acceptance of his new “son”. That was when I got one of my first clues
as to my husband’s true desires when it came to sex - young girls. He
didn’t waste any time duplicating my dad’s collection of kid porn, that’s
for sure. At the same time when it came to MY favorites, he didn’t seem
to have any interest.
We sat back and soon came the scene where one of their boyfriends sneaks
into the daughter’s bedroom, starts fucking the one and then she says he
has to fuck her sister too so she won’t squeal on them. OK, so the plot
gets pretty thin about then but I felt myself getting hornier buy the
minute as we both watched silently. My hand went between my legs and I
started to masturbate. At first I wasn’t in the best of positions though
so I twisted up onto the couch and laid with my back against the arm rest
so I could still see the TV screen but with my legs spread apart, have
easy access to my wet pussy. Mmmmmmm, my fingers felt so good on my
clit!
Glancing over, my dad was stroking himself too and I was pleasantly
surprised to notice he was even starting to react, albeit only about
half-hardness so far. I smiled to myself. Some people get so up-tight
when it comes to masturbation yet it was such a natural reaction. If
you’re horny and in need, why hide it? When I was little and my dad
would masturbate I just pretty much ignored him. When something is
handled openly without the taint of taboo then it tends to lose the sense
of excitement that some people get when they see something they
“shouldn’t”.
We watched the rest of the movie in silence and over the course of time I
came several times. I LOVED the scene where the son fucks his mother for
Ginger to see and then she walks in and he fucks her. God, every time I
see that I think of my husband and how much I would love to be able to
surprise him and his mother as he fucks her against the wall in her
bedroom. Yes, it’s why I enjoy these old movies!
One of the final scenes where the father finally caves into his desires
and lust and fucks his daughter has to be one of the greatest porn movies
scenes of all time. At the same time, it almost brings me to tears every
time I watch it as I wish that was how my dad had taken me for my first
time. Indeed, after the events so far today I had more than a few tears
as I saw the joy on her face as her father fucked her for the first time.
Oh sure, they were just acting but for me it was a special moment.
Oh my god, I started to cum so badly as I closed my eyes and remembered
the first time my dad entered my bedroom with the intent to fuck me. The
look in his eyes was almost terrifying. After having teased him and
“seducing” him (little did I know at the time that there was no seducing
necessary) I knew by that intense gaze that he was going to fuck me...
and nothing in the world was going to stop him, not even me - as if THAT
would ever happen.
I felt exhausted yet at the same time my entire body was tingling like
when you hit your funny bone, except in this case my entire body felt
this way. I panted deeply as I worked to catch my breath.
“Nice job.”
I opened my eyes just enough to see my dad watching me, his now fully
erect dick surrounded by his fingers as he stroked himself.
“Yeah... now THAT really DOES take me down old memory lane,” he sighed,
“God you use to be a horny little tease.”
Use to be? Like I wasn’t now? Well I wasn’t about to just let that one
slide. Reaching down between my thighs, I pushed my index finger into my
wet pussy and then brought it to my mouth, sucking off my pussy cum like
I was licking off the icing after eating a piece of cake. Mmmmmmm, I had
to say I tasted pretty darn good!
“Oh you you’re still a fucking little tease!” he exclaimed as he stared
at me enjoying myself, “Yep, you had no idea the effect you had on your
old man back then. Something about watching your twelve year-old
daughter diddling herself really gets the ol’ blood flow working again.”
Actually, I DID know back then the effect I had on him. I mean like come
on, I wasn’t six years old after all plus me and my mom had been having
some pretty intimate discussions about sex by then. While she never
alluded to the real reason my dad would get so hard watching me
masturbate, she DID help me to understand that ALL men would do the same
under the same conditions and my dad was no different than any of them.
If anything, knowing the impact my actions had on my dad, not to mention
the fact I LOVED to masturbate, I would look for most any excuse to
masturbate while he was around. It became like a game to me - making
daddy hard. The thing is, by making it so natural and proper it also
caused me to fail to understand that the real reason my dad was getting
so hard was because he wanted to push that erection up inside of me!
Well, at least today he didn’t have to hide those sentiments any longer.
“Why don’t you come over here and have a seat,” he offered, sitting back
again in his chair and patting his upper thigh.
I may not be twelve anymore but it’s not like I’m all that big these days
so I easily fit on his lap, his hard erection poking into me from
underneath. Yet another flashback to those days when life was so much
simpler, at least for me. Of course back then we were never both nude
like this - not exactly fully dressed at times but never totally naked.
It wasn’t a big thing for me to just wear a T-shirt, cami, or even one of
his shirts around the house without any panties underneath. Once I
started sleeping nude around age twelve, I ditched the panties pretty
much anytime I was home. Most of the time I was still covered by
whatever I had on top so even if someone should stop by they wouldn’t
have noticed.
As for my dad, his favorite outfit at home was a pair of gym shorts and a
T-shirt. He generally eschewed underwear as well, complaining it was too
constricting. Personally, I’ve never quite figured out how men deal with
all that junk hanging between their legs as it is!
Thus when sitting on lap then back when I was a teenager, often it would
be my bare bottom pressing down on what was often his bulging cock
underneath me. Most of the time it was hidden under his shorts but now
and then as I would shift on his lap it would work its way free and I’d
feel it’s warmth and hardness against my bare bottom, just as I was
feeling it now. Of course there was one HUGE difference between then and
now... back then it was just my dad’s hard dick, nothing more or less.
Now I felt it and knew what it REALLY meant - it was anxious to slip up
inside of me!
Given my dad and I didn’t start having sex until I was sixteen, that
meant for quite a few years that even though there were times when his
dick would push against my bare pussy, he never actually entered me
although I’m sure there had to be times when he wanted it to happen.
Knowing today how addicted to sex and young pussy my father was (and
still is), it’s pretty remarkable that he was able to exercise such self-
control. It just goes to show what a remarkable marriage my parents had
that he would put aside his own desires because of his love and respect
for my mother who wanted him to wait until I made the first move.
Some people might say that sitting on your dad’s lap bare ass, grinding
your pussy into your dad’s engorged cock against your clit to feel good,
would be considered “making the first move”. Well, they would be wrong
as the last thing on my mind during those times was him fucking me. Sure
it felt good! At the same time I was doing for just the reason - it felt
good, not because I was trying to get him to put it in me. Because I had
no idea about the incestual nature of our family at the time, it never
even occurred to me that my father would want to in the first place.
Flash forward seventeen years later and things were a LOT different. Now
when I would squirm on his lap and feel the tip of his dick starting to
poke inside of me, all I could think about was him fucking me! As wet as
I was from having just masturbated myself to an orgasm, I easily slid
over his smooth shaft, rubbing myself on it to make everything tingle
like electricity down there. Just as I had one thing on my mind, so too
my father no longer had to hide his true nature any more.
“God your pussy’s so fucking wet,” he groaned as I ground down on it.
“What do you want daddy... tell me what you want.”
I could only imagine how desperately he must have wished that I would
have uttered those words back when I was a little girl but there was no
question today what he wanted!
“Daddy want to fuck you... I want you to ride my dick.”
“Mmmmmmm,” I moaned as I turned and wrapped my arms around his neck,
leaning into him so my boob pressed into his chest as I started to kiss
him yet again. Oh yeah, I loved kissing my dad!
“That’s it daddy... tell me more,” I whispered in a husky voice filled
with my own lust and emotions, “Tell me what you want.”
He groaned as I swiveled my hips to tease the tip of his dick that had
almost found its way into me.
“God I want inside of you. I want to fuck you so god damn badly right
now. I want to cum in you, fill you with my cum.”
Good enough for me! I turned on his lap and straddled him, my knees
squeezing in between his legs and the arm rests as I lifted myself up and
positioned my pussy directly over his hard dick. His eyes were fixated
at his lap where I held his shaft in position just outside his daughter’s
wet hot pussy. Then slowly, oh god ever so slowly, I descended until the
tip was now pressing hard into me. Moving my hips in small circles, I
started to press down onto him and I could feel the head of his dick
begin to split me apart, filling me with his manhood. Then I had his
whole dick head in me and at that moment I just stopped and let us both
revel in the moment.
“Oh daddy, that feels so good inside of me.”
There was no response, at least nothing verbal. Just a low series of
grunts as I felt his hands on my bare hips, pushing me down further onto
his dick. Inch by inch my father’s cock disappeared into me as each of
us stared down where the distance between our crotches slowly diminished
until finally he was all the way into me and my full weight came to bear
on the base of his dick, driving him into me as far as he could go.
“Oh fuck!” he groaned as I ground my bare pussy against his hairy crotch.
I started humping him slowly, as slowly as I could by rising up until
just the head of his dick remained in me, pausing for a moment, and then
dropping down again as slowly as I could bear myself to do it. As I
fucked my dad, I started to move a little faster until I was bouncing on
his lap with his dick inside of me. Oh god I loved to feel my dad’s
incestuous dick inside of me!
From the way he was starting to react I knew he was getting close. When
a guy has fucked you literally hundreds of time you get to know these
sort of things! Still, I wasn’t really anxious for that to happen quite
so fast. Besides, my legs were starting to tire a bit so taking a
breather would be good for both of us. Settling down on his lap, I sat
there motionless for a moment, both of us looking each other in the eyes
without saying a word. I could feel him throbbing inside of me, his
crotch involuntarily jerking now and then upward against me as his dick
seemed to want to push even further into my pussy.
“I love you daddy,” I whispered, smiling at him.
“I love you too baby girl.”
Oh god, I was going to cry! It was like everything in my life was just
perfect at that moment. My career, my marriage, my family... what more
could a girl ask for? Yet as blessed as I was by all that, here I was
with my father’s arms around me, my arms wrapped around his neck as we
kissed yet again. I could feel the strength of my father’s hands as they
gripped my ass, pulling me into him as his wonderful cock filled my
pussy. Yes, I knew he loved me. Oh my god I knew he did! True, he
didn’t have to fuck me to prove it. If my dad never fucked me ever again
it wouldn’t diminish his love for me in any way. My dad wasn’t inside of
me right now, about to explode and fill me with the most intimate
expression of his desire for me, to PROVE he loved me. No... my dad was
about to cum inside of me BECAUSE he loved me and he wanted to do this
for me as an expression of that love. Tears filled my eyes as my
emotions threatened to overwhelm me!
“Oh yes!” he suddenly groaned as he began to orgasm and spurt his cum
inside of me. Evidently the sentiment of this moment was enough to drive
him over the edge without me even having to work more to stimulate him
further. Over and over I felt him surge into me, each time knowing yet
more of his love was filling me.
I’ve often said that sex is 20% physical and 80% emotional. Well, right
now make that 95% emotional and 5% physical. Of course I loved the
physical sensations my father was giving me but that wasn’t what made the
tears stream down my cheeks. Moments like this happen all too rare in
life, moments when two people become so close and intimate it’s like
they’re merging into one body. In some ways that was almost true
considering a portion of my father’s body was no firmly lodged inside of
mine. But it was more than just him fucking me... it was the incredible
feelings of love and honor that had me speechless and crying like a baby.
I loved my father SOOOOO much and at this moment I don’t think I’ve ever
felt closer to him.
“Love me daddy,” was all I could barely squeak out as I hugged him
tightly, my pussy clamping down on his now spent dick. God, I never
wanted him to pull it out of me!
We remained like that for what seemed to be hours but I knew could only
have been maybe ten or fifteen minutes. A father and daughter linked
together in love as only a father and daughter can be. No, he wasn’t my
lover and it was nothing like what I shared with my husband. He was my
father which meant it was like nobody else in the world could ever be
with me. No matter what ever happened, I only had one father and nobody
could ever take his place.
Chapter 7 - Closure
===================
“Kelly... Kelly...”
Startled, I opened my eyes and for a moment felt totally disoriented. I
guess somehow I’d fallen asleep, totally exhausted physically and
mentally drained. My head was on my father’s shoulder as I felt his
fingers tracing lines up and down my back making me tingle as he slid
them down my spine and into my butt crack. I started to stir and then
felt him still inside of me and everything came back to me in an instant.
“I love you daddy,” I whispered after clearing my throat.
“I love you too Kelly.”
I almost cried again. He didn’t call me his “baby girl” or “daddy’s
little slut”, his typical terms of endearment for me. It was a rare
moment like this when he used my actual name and I knew that meant he
wasn’t teasing me but rather he was being quite serious for the moment.
Calling me by my name just seemed so much more personal and intimate than
even the most endearing nickname.
Any other time after we’d have sex like this I most likely would have
gotten down on my knees in front of his chair and sucked his dick clean,
enjoying the unique flavor of his cum mixed with mine that coated his
cock. Somehow that just didn’t seem necessary this time, or even
appropriate. What we had just shared had been so personal, so intimate,
that to just suck his dick seemed wrong as it would defile the memory.
Instead, I shifted over so I was sitting across his lap again. When his
dick slipped out of me, what little remained in me at the time, I felt a
momentary twinge - oh my god I could have kept him in me all day and
night! My dad reached for the remotes which sort of surprised me. Was
he going to watch more porn now? I’d have been happy just to stay like
this for at least a little while longer.
Instead, using several remotes to operate his convoluted home media
center, he switched the TV over to his Apple TV and using AirPlay,
started a slide show from his laptop on the table next to him. To my
surprise, it was like a tribute to my childhood!
“Ahhhhh daddy!” I giggled as I realized what he was doing. Actually I’d
seen this one before but that didn’t make it any less special. It was
the sharing of these memories that counted, not them being anything new.
“Hard to imagine you being so small,” he grunted, pretending I was quite
the load on him as photos of my preschool day went by. I punched him on
the shoulder teasingly as “punishment” for making such remarks about my
current weight.
In a way this reminded me of one of the Chevy Chase movies where he
watches old home movies in the attic - I think it was the Christmas one.
Just as he teared up reliving those earlier days in his life, so did I as
I watched my life pass by from year to year.
“Remember THAT outfit?” he chuckled.
How could I forget? It was one of the first outfits he had purchased
just for me to model for him. My mother had clucked when she saw it on
me but she didn’t say any more than that. It’s not like I exposed
anything but it was incredibly risqué for a twelve year-old to wear. In
fact, I think I still have it stored away somewhere in one of the cedar
chests upstairs. Where he had found a French main outfit that would fit
a girl my size God only knew but it fit me perfectly. I shook my head in
mock embarrassment. Damn, I was flat as a board so even without anything
under the flimsy tight material, my nipples barely even made a dent. I’d
never worn fishnet hose before but it looked surprisingly good on my
coltish preteen legs.
“I must have jerked off every night for a week after you wore that,” he
confessed, shaking his head, “Your mother was ready to kill me but when
he saw how much you liked it she couldn't exactly tell you to take it
off.”
It was followed by a series of photos taken over my early preteen years.
One especially brought back memories - it was me in a bikini that was a
swim suit in name only as no public beach or pool would have ever
permitted me to wear it. It was more strings than material with tiny
triangular pieces that were supposed to cover my nipples and pussy slit.
What little bit was in the crotch quickly pulled together to slide into
my pussy slit so for all practical purposes it may not have even have
been there.
What my dad didn’t know though was that I’d worn this for my boyfriend
Steve at the time (yes, the same Steve I later married but a LOT of water
went under the dam in between those events) shortly after the first time
he’d fucked me. I’d wanted to be sure he wouldn’t just make me another
notch in belt which his reputation would have forecasted so I thought
maybe if he saw me in this that he’d want to do me again. Yes, I had a
HUGE crush on my sixteen year-old new boyfriend, even if he didn’t know
he was yet. I suppose that’s only natural considering he was my first
real date, my first blowjob and the one to take my virginity.
The slide show ended with my wedding ceremony. Actually it ended with me
and my dad hugging just before the ceremony. For most people, it was the
typical bride saying goodbye to her father before he gave her over to her
new husband. What they didn’t know was that photo meant a lot more to us
- a LOT more. Imagine if they, or even the photographer at the time, had
a clue that just minutes before my father had fucked me for the last time
as a single woman, the last time when I belonged solely to him. Imagine
if they knew my pussy was filled with his cum, just as it was now as I
sat on his lap. No, I wasn’t saying goodbye ion that photo. I was
promising him that no matter what happened I would always be his, that I
would always be his daughter and he could count on me to do anything he
wanted just as he had just minutes before.
I may be married to my husband but I’ll always be my father’s daughter!
THE END