Page 02
Is everything all right?
I hear you have nice fingers.
I was way out of line.
Not what I hear.
???
You paid attention and took a chance.
Yes.
Did your finger get wet?
Very.
You caused that.
3 dots... waiting
I have to go.
I typed one more message. Thank You.
I put the phone in my pocket and headed downstairs.
I'm sitting on the couch typing on my phone. The parents think I'm doing socials. Keepin' it real. I'm careful and keep my legs closed and the screen up. Faith is sitting on the other wing of the couch, working on her second glass of wine, blabbing about some huge house she sold today; I'm picturing her naked on the bedroom floor of the place while the young couple ravages her from both ends. I smile. A small part of me would love to watch that. Dad is in the kitchen making dinner like he does every night. Love that man.
Faith gets up. "Gotta pee." Thanks, didn't need to know that. Dad comes in and sits in front of me on the big ottoman. I keep typing.
"Mom drinks way too much." I can't let Dad know how I've objectified my mother by using her name.
Dad sighs and puts his hand lightly on my knee. Is it me, or is he getting more touchy?
"I know, I just don't know what to do about it."
This is it. I'm gonna do it. I look into those beautiful blue eyes and slowly open my legs. Dad's eyes naturally flick down and then go wide. He stops talking and stares. I know he can clearly see my yellow thong with the huge wet mess between my legs. I open wide, pause, and then close my legs as my mother comes back. Our eyes meet, and I smile, catching my lip in my teeth.
Dad, blushing like crazy, gets up. "Well, dinner isn't going to cook itself," he says. I can see the fat bulge in his shorts. I win.
As he walks away, I lean my head back. "Dad, you make life here so much better. I wish I could do more to help you."
He stops and just looks at me. Faith, clueless, drinks wine and yaps.
After dinner, I help Dad clean up. As he moves around the kitchen, I notice he's finding reasons to touch me, nothing sexy or inappropriate, but a lot more than ever before. I do the same, holding his trim waist as I move behind him, reaching into the sink and touching his hands as I pull the plates out of the soak, making sure our hips touch, too. I can see his cock is hard. I'm loving this. He is, too.
"Another book signing tour tomorrow?"
Dad puts the last dish in the dishwasher and then moves behind me. He puts his wet, warm hands on my hips, just at the edge of my shorts, and on the bare skin below my tank top. So fuckin warm and wet. My pussy pulses.
"Yeah, two days, out in Asheville. Sorry, Pixie, wet hands."
I'm leaning on the sink, pushing my hips back. Dad just pauses, and I can feel the bulge.
"S'ok, Dad. You have nice hands. Wet is good, right?"
What a stupid thing to say! Arggg, It was all I could think of. He's cool though. Ignores my stupid remarks.
"Gonna miss the old man?" he asks as he releases me, takes off the apron, and hangs it in the small closet.
I untie my apron and shove over next to him, loving the contact. "More than I can say," I reply in a whisper. I step away quickly and out of the kitchen. Faith's passed out. Banging for bucks must be exhausting.
July 10, 1030PM
The lights are down low. Dad and I are on the couch; Faith is still passed out on the other wing. Dad put a movie on, but I'm paying no attention. I'm getting a text.
I got a surprise tonight.
I heard.
This freaky game we're playing, should I end it? Just tell him it's me? We both know he knows.
Why?
Why what? Why did I leave him my thong that got soaked when he touched me? Why did I put it on, knowing he had masturbated and cum all over it and show him?
Why not? It was a tribute. Thank you.
I glance over. Dad is half looking at me.
I'm weak, and I'm scared. If it goes too far, there's no way to undo it.
Pay attention and take a chance.
I put the phone away and watch Dad as he puts his on the table.
"I'm cold," I say.
Dad pulls the fleece off the couch. "Here."
I get up, go over, grab the fleece, flake it out, plop next to him, and throw it over us. He glances at Faith. I cuddle up to him.
"Just enjoying a movie with my dad."
I hold his hand under the blanket. It's nice. Real nice. I know he's hard, even if I can't see.
July 10, 11:30 PM
I'm up in bed now. Faith woke up, so we all went to bed. Dad's leaving early tomorrow. I type out a text.
Good luck. Hurry home. You're missed.
July 1, 8:11 AM
Dad's out in Asheville. I'm stuck at home. They don't need me at work today--Faith's in her home office. I want to text Dad naked selfies, but I won't. That violates the unwritten and unspoken rules of our game.
I'm gonna go hang in the pool.
I'm putting on my thong bikini I got last time I was shopping with Janet. She got one also. We shared a dressing room to try them on. Janet was wearing a G-string, wow. I'd never seen her pussy and when Janet dropped her shorts, well, there it was. She was talking away, and I fought not to stare. What's happening to me?
July 11, 10:30 AM
Well, I'm leaning on the edge of the pool, checking my phone. Dad never answered my text. He must be really busy. Faith just walked out wearing a thong-string bikini, no surprise; it's all she owns. I'm surprised she doesn't wear them to show homes with pools.
I have problems with my mother. No shit, right? Well, one of them is, she's gorgeous. I got Dad's shape. I'm this short, curvy, muscular kid with a killer butt; she's fucking long and lean, has tits that are way bigger than mine, maybe a C? I don't know. She's walking to a lounge like she's in a fashion show. Her hips shift, and she looks off into the distance. I've never paid attention to her as a woman; now, with my new perversions, yeah plural, I see her differently. She stops in front of me.
"I had to get off the phone and take a break. Thought I'd catch some sun."
Who cares? "Yeah, it's nice out here today."
She's standing and staring at me. What the fuck?
"Um, I like to tan."
I look up. "Okay."
"Um, all over."
What the fuck? I had no idea. I've got a job, and I'm out five days a week. Is she, like, asking my permission?
"Yeah, okay, no prob. Just us girls."
Acting casual, pretending to be pals with my slut mother. She just pulls the strings, and in a blink, she's fucking naked. Whoa.
I'm watching her while typing, pretending not to watch. I don't know what's going on with me. I mean, girls, women. I never looked, you know? Now, I'm seeing my mother, whom I despise, as a sexy woman. First, I'm leering at my best friend, who I am sure is not into girls, and now I'm watching my mother bend over to arrange her towel, giving me a very clear look at her vagina and butthole.
She's wet. She's fucking wet. I bet she was doing phone sex before she came out. She has to know I can see this. Is it that she doesn't care or...? No, no way. But there's Mary. No, she just doesn't give a shit. Slut.
"You can join me if you like."
"No thanks, I'm going back in the house. It's hot out here."
She picks up her phone. "Okay."
July 11, 7:08 PM
So, I'm back in my room, naked. I do that now, no clothes in my bedroom. I wish Dad and I had swapped naked selfies; I'd love to rub one out looking at a pic of his hard cock, which I have as yet to see. Did I say that right?
My mother and I got along for the day, me mostly avoiding her. We faked our way through dinner, and I cleaned up and bugged out back to my room.
I get out the sex phone, as I call it now. He sent a text.
How much of a chance?
I smile. I picture him naked on the bed in his hotel room, stroking his big, I think, cock.
At times like these, it's important to take a chance but be sensitive to the response.
His answer is instantaneous.
You think?
I run my finger up my drenched pussy, lick my finger, and type.
I know. I'm sure. G'nite.
I'm picturing Dad getting ready to cum all over that wonderful belly.
That's all for now. I'm going to get out my big dildo and masturbate. Talk to you all later.
July 12, 8:13 AM
I'm checking my phone. I just woke up. A text. Maybe a selfie of his hard cock and a pool of cum? No, it's just a text, not that I'm surprised.
I'm going home tonight but won't be in until late.
I'm sure you're looking forward to being home.
Three dots. I picture him, naked and hard on that motel bed.
More than ever.
I feel my pussy clench, and a warm feeling comes over me. He's had time away from temptation. Time to think, time to worry, time to decide. That message says a lot. I feel so fucking good right now.
July 12, 8:30 AM
I don't have to be at work till ten. Faith's long gone. I'm naked and having breakfast in the kitchen. I'm leaning on the island, observing that it is the perfect height for sex. Ha, this is fun.
I climb up on the island. The granite is fucking cold. I lay back and grab my legs, pulling them back and imagining Dad sitting on one of the high stools, looking at my wet pussy. Gotta rub one out.
July 12, 3:30 PM
I'm back home. Job sucks but it's just for the summer. Faith's not home, she texted, gotta show a house. You know what I'm picturing so I'll just leave it. I'm edgy, nervous, but also anxious, wanting him home, wanting to continue the game, wondering how far he'll go, how far I'll go. I can't sit still. I'm gonna binge watch all three Pitch Perfect movies.
July 12, 6:02 PM
I just got out of the shower. I'm looking at myself. I've got some definition; I like it. I pinch my nipples. It's fucking amazing; it's like there's a wire from my nips to my pussy; bang, I'm wet. I run my fingers through my pubic hair. Faith has none. Should I shave? Is that what he wants? I gotta know. I pick up the phone.
I've got a friend. She wants to shave. She needs a man's opinion.
Nothing. I wait a few minutes, still nothing. Weird. Must be busy. Mattress Mom just got home. I'll check later.
I make Faith some dinner, and we have a civil conversation over some Hallmark piece of shit movie. She's not evil, just very superficial and self-centered. Could be worse.
July 12, 2:00 AM
I just heard him. It's 2 AM and I hear Dad walking through the house. I look at my door, willing it to open, have him walk in. What would I do? I'm lying naked on my bed. Throw the sheet off? Turn the light on? Crawl to him? I laugh at myself. Pixie, you are one fucked-up girl.
July 13, 8:32 AM
There's a lot of fucking sunshine filling my room. How did I manage to stay asleep? Fuck, I'm almost late for work. More later. He left a text.
Women have hair.
July 13, 11:17 AM
Things are slow here, not many customers. I'm gonna get sent home; I'm the summer girl; the regulars depend on tips. That's cool, I can't concentrate anyway after I read his text.
I thought about coming in.
She said she was awake. She sleeps au natural.
That would have been a problem.
Not for her.
Then, nothing. Fuck me, this is torture. What does he mean, 'problem?' Did he change his mind? Did he want to come in and talk, tell me how he can't love me the way he needs to, the way I want to? Am I pushing too hard? He sent me his most recent chapter; it's much better. Well, I'm not getting much out of this, but it's helping him. He needs this book to be a hit. A big fat advance so he and I can leave. Am I horrible for wanting that? What do I want from Dad? For how long? Thinking is exhausting; I'd rather just react. Marla just told me, "It's too slow, go home." Go home, he's there. Now what?
July 13, 3:32 PM
I'm looking out my window. I can see the pool. Dad's on that lounge he loves: the tall one that sits under the shelter. I don't see his phone, I'm not surprised, he does this to get ideas. He never swims. Today it's just a pair of white linen shorts I've never seen before. I concentrate on the slight bulge. Is he wearing underwear? He's writing a lot; he must be on a tear. I'll wait, standing naked in my room. Fuck, I'm wet just looking at him.
July 13, 3:54 PM
I didn't masturbate, so restrained of me. I wanted to. I wanted to stand in the window and fuck myself, hoping he'd look up, come up, take me. Now, he's asleep on the lounge. I put on the purple pair of those shorts I got, the ones I cut the underwear out of. I found my oldest and saggiest white tank top. If I had tits, they'd be falling out of it; as it is, it's just my long, fat nipples, hard, sending a message.
July 13, 4:37 PM
I'm standing at the slider. I don't know what to expect. Is this going to be a move forward or a gentle end? Only one way to find out.
He's on his personal lounge; it sits higher than normal ones. He has bad knees. He's awake now, looking at this tablet. It's a beautiful sunny day. I reach for the handle with a shaky hand. I'm still in the AC, and I'm sweating- and juicing.
Dad looks up as I walk out. Big smile. Why do I feel like he's been gone for a month, not two days? He's so handsome. The sun reflects off his black hair- now with flecks of gray- like he needs to look more sexy. As I walk around the pool, he puts the tablet down and waits for me.
"Purple today?"
I stop next to his lounge and tug on the leg of my shorts. "Yeah, I got three pairs. Glad you like 'em."
Dad extends his hand, asking. I step forward, accepting. His fingers capture the edge of the leg, like last time, the back of his fingers against my leg. I quiver; I can't control it.
"Fabric like this, that new stuff, much cooler, right?"
Not right fucking now, I think, I'm so hot I'm gonna burst into flames.
"Yeah, great for summer; I love 'em."
We're eye-to-eye. That hand, my father's hand, rolls over, like last time. His palm is against my thigh, so warm, so fucking warm. He just holds his hand there. My hands lay against my thighs. I slide them up, like last time, across my abdomen, but this time I open the web of my hands and gently cup the bottom of my breasts. No expression on his face or mine. I glance down. He is hard under those shorts. I'm sure he has no underwear on; there's a wet spot at the tip of his erection. His hand is moving up. I edge a little closer, giving permission, like last time.
Oh, fuck, his fingers feel so good against my skin. He's close now, oh so close. I bite my lip. His eyes go wide. He knows. I can feel his fingers touching my pubic hair. No panties. He keeps his eyes on mine as his finger toys with the tips of my hair, waiting. I move my hands over my breasts and capture my hard nipples with my fingers, pinching, pulling, signaling.
His finger, that long, strong finger, presses into my pubic hair, and then, he's there. I feel his finger touch my vagina, I'm so unbelievably wet it slips inside me, just a little. I quiver, and I move my right hand from my breast to his right leg to steady myself. Dad stops but doesn't take his finger out of me. I squeeze his leg as I pinch my nipple, asking for more.
His finger moves out and along my lips slowly, so damn slowly. He's exploring, taking in every sensation. His breathing is deeper, his hand a little shaky. I move my hand up his leg; I'm touching the hem of the leg of those white linen shorts. On top or under? I chicken out, move my hand on top of the fabric, distracted by his finger finding my big clit. I know it's big because I look at porn, I'm bigger than average. He touches it, and I moan, I can't help it. Two more seconds and I will cum all over his hand, but he moves down.
We're staring at each other as he toys with my pussy. I can feel the rise in the fabric of his shorts, I know I'm close to his erection. He trails his finger between my lips, opening me. I'm so aware of what I'm feeling that it takes a second for me to realize I'm touching my father's cock through his shorts. I look down; he's rigid, pointing up toward his belly, and I'm running the tips of my fingers along the fabric, a big wet spot at the end.
I open my legs even more. I feel the finger pressing in a little, pausing. I close my fingers around his girth. I feel his cock twitch as his fingers slide in; I grip his cock, move my hand just a little, as I feel him deeper in me. We still just stare at each other. Fuck he has long fingers; he's way up in me. I'm pulling on my nipple, shaking, stroking his penis through his shorts. I know I'm going to cum really fucking hard, but I fight it; I want more.
I bunch the fabric around my hand as I stroke. We're both covered in sweat, mouths open, panting, embracing the wrong.
I run my thumb along his cock, feeling that spot below the head. I don't know much, but I know that's a hot spot for guys. I want to bend over, pull his shorts down and fill my mouth with his cock. Not today.
Oh shit, he found it. I feel the pad of his finger on my G-spot. He knows, too; he presses and moves, and his big thumb is pressing on my clit. I tighten my grip on his cock, moving faster. He wants me to cum, and I'm not doing it alone.
I feel the orgasm building like a wave. I know my mouth is hanging open, and my nipple hurts from me pulling on it. I move to the other as I feel his cock swelling. He's close. I'm closer. I'm there.
Starbursts in my brain, and I yell, really yell, my head leaning back as my release washes over me. I gush from my pussy, drenching his hand and my shorts. My eyes roll back, and when they return, I look down; I see his penis twitching, the wet mess spreading from the head of his cock as he climaxes, a bit shooting out of the waistband of those shorts. I feel his cock in my hand, pumping, pumping his cum as he fingers his daughter. This is the nastiest thing I've ever done, and I know I want more.
Dad takes his hand away, still looking at me as he licks his fingers. Fuck, almost came again. I let go of his cock, run my finger through the spot of cum on his belly, and slip my finger into my mouth; nice. I just back away, turn, and go into the house. I'm shaking. My life just changed.
Okay, I'm back in my room. Holy fuck. Gotta take a breath; it was NOT a gentle end. I gotta send him a message before I tell you what happened.
That was awesome.
Yeah, beyond awesome.
No regrets at all.
Three dots.
ditto.
Shit. We just broke the wall we've been hiding behind. Just a little, but I was so buzzed I forgot to pretend it wasn't me. I guess, under the circumstances, it's dumb to keep trying to hide it.
July 13, 5:35 PM
I hear Dad moving around the house. I want to go talk to him, stop playing our game, and just do it, but Mayonnaise Legs just got home. You know, easy to spread.
July 13, 7:18 PM
I'm buried in the huge sectional couch, watching Netflix. Faith is in her office, sending pics of her vulva to home inspectors. I don't know that she is; I just assume. Dad's making dinner. I haven't mentioned this, but he's a great cook. My phone goes off. Dad's texting.
I feel guilty, but it felt so good.
He doesn't start our chats, I do. Interesting.
Didn't mind the fur?
I prefer it.
But she shaves?
Lasered, her choice.
I'm typing, not thinking.
Tongues feel better.
I look at my phone. Did I really just send that?
R u sure?
Well, I guess the rules have changed. No more hiding in the third person. I feel my pussy getting wet.
Never surer-Till things change.
Nothing for a minute.
Yes.
Yes? Yes what?
I send one more.
Sometimes, I get thirsty late at night, so I go get a drink in the kitchen.
I drop my phone and think back to this morning, lying on my mother's granite island. I have a plan.
July 14, 1 AM
It's 1 AM. I'm in the kitchen, naked, lying on the island. The lights are out; the room is in deep darkness. Back to anonymity, better that way- for now. I left my robe on the floor at the door, he'll see it or feel it when he comes in. If he comes in. We never texted after that one I told you about. I swear I'm leaving a puddle on this rock. I hear him.
July 14, 1:58 AM
There's a board on the stairs that squeaks, just a little. That's why I'm here. If Faith wakes up and comes looking, we'll get a warning- if we need one. I just heard it. He's on his way.
I hear my robe rustle as his foot finds it. The room is pitch dark. I feel like my ears are growing huge, trying to hear him. I hear him breathing, deeper than normal, closer; I sense him, see the dark outline.
I twitch; he touches me, looking for me. His hand on my thigh, moving up over my abs and slowing. He knows I'm naked. I go, "Mmmm," barely audible, but enough. I know he can feel me breathing, heaving air into my lungs, tense, but very needy.
His finger has found the edge of the slight rise of my tiny breast. His other hand, his right, is caressing the side of my thigh. I have never felt so loved and so excited. I expected him to show up and jam his face between my legs. He's teasing me, no, not teasing, prepping me? So, this is foreplay; I like it, I like it a lot.
My body is buzzing; the only word for it. His left index finger is just touching my skin, tracing the outer circle of my breast. My nipple feels like it's going to explode. His right index finger is trailing up and down my thigh, moving closer up and further in between my legs with every pass. I keep moving my legs wider. Yes. More, please. My right arm flops off the counter, and I feel him. He has a robe on, and I clutch the fabric at his hip.
The finger on my breast is getting closer to my nipple on every revolution. The one on my thigh is on the inside, moving slower and moving up. I reach with my left hand and grab the hand towel from the rack under the counter and put it in my mouth, biting hard. I need to be quiet, and this is the only way. He is such a tease, and I'm dying.
Both fingers pull back. My body is shaking. No, please, no. I need this; I need to climax. I feel his body shift. He's not leaving.
His fingers clamp my nipple and squeeze hard as his other hand pinches my clit. I scream into that towel as I cum, shaking, my hand clamped full of terrycloth, the other gripping the cold edge of the countertop as my orgasm consumes me. I'm flopping on that granite slab, the energy of my climax racing through me. He's pinching and releasing my nipple in the same cadence as he is torturing my clitoris.
I've never enjoyed an orgasm like this. He's good; amazing would be more accurate, but I know what's making it better: the wrongness.
Then they are gone. The fingers leave, and he reaches down and pries my fingers off his robe. I hear his bare feet on the ceramic tile floor, and his shadow blocks my view of the clock on the microwave. He didn't leave. There will be more. I reach down and grab my legs behind the knees. When you're a gymnast, you're wicked flexible. I pull my legs back, waiting, hoping. The counter jiggles, I feel his warm, strong hands grab my ankles and pull. Dad gently pulls me until my ass is at the edge of the counter. I hear one of the stools moving on the floor.
Really? I picture this, him moving a stool so he can SIT DOWN and lick my pussy. Oh fuck, that might mean he plans on being there for a while. I'm going to need that towel. I'm hoping he isn't going to torment me this time.
As his hands move up my legs, brushing over my hands, he presses them open, knowing how wide I can spread. I feel his stubble on my thigh. I shake. So intense. His hands come to rest on the sides of my ass, holding me as his cheek moves closer. I feel his hot breath on my pussy, the air moving my pubic hair. I can feel the juice flowing out of me. This is sensual torture.
Is he going to dive in or tease me more? I've only been licked by one guy, and he went at me like I was a Wendy's burger; this, this is a whole new galaxy of passion.
His left hand finds my breast, and his fingers capture a nipple. I bite the towel.
His tongue touches my right thigh at the edge of my vagina. It feels so hot as he trails it up and over, through my pubic hair and just above my clit. He knows exactly what he's doing; trailing down the left side, running in the crease where my legs meet my pussy. He's slowing at the bottom. He pauses. His tongue is at the base of my entrance. It moves down. No, he is not going to lick my ass. Nobody has ever been there. What's the point?
I feel his tongue bore into my ring, and I immediately know what the point is. I never knew how sensual that spot could be. As if what we are doing wasn't bad enough, he's taken it to the limit. I quiver. He presses his tongue flat and licks up, forcing my lips open and getting a mouth full of me as a reward. I cum, biting the towel and yelling, pumping my release into his mouth as his tongue flips, asking for more.
His mouth moves off; the cool air of the kitchen bathes my pussy. I feel his right hand moving up my left leg. His tongue touches my clit, blasting an electric charge through my groin. One finger finds my entrance, gently pushing in as I feel his lips touch my clit. Deeper, deeper, now turning.
Oh, fuck. I know what he's going to do, and I may just combust. I am in so much trouble.
I'm gasping into the towel as I feel that big finger barely touch my G-spot. His breath is deep and warm on my clit. Then it happens. He pushes up with his finger, massaging my spot as his lips close around my clitoris and suck- hard. His left hand is flat on my belly, holding me down and enhancing the smashing climax I am enjoying.
I'm cumming, yelling into the towel, pressing my hips against his hand, and jerking my hips to get more sensation. Just when it becomes too much, he stops and takes his hand away, but I feel his presence. He stands. I hear the stool moving back--my turn.
He's fucking ruined me for any man I ever meet. He set the bar in fucking space. I owe him, and I can't wait.
I flip off the counter with ease, land on my feet, and drop to my knees as my hands reach out and feel that robe. I throw it wide, and he shucks it off as my hands grab the back of his thighs, moving up and around until they wrap around his cock. My father's cock.
I'm so wound up. I've only given three blowjobs. The first one lasted ten seconds; he pulled out and blasted all over my face. The other two were better; one guy coached me. I like to have them finish in my mouth. Now I'm in the big leagues.
I extend my tongue and start at the base. Dad doesn't shave or trim. I inhale the scent of body wash and pheromones as I trail my tongue up the underside of his erection. He inhales quickly, and my hair fills his hands. Just holding and panting. I feel that spot under the head. Dad is cut; I like that.
My tongue captures a drop at the end, and I let my lips embrace the tip. Slowly, I take him into my mouth, one hand holding around the base, just in case. I can almost get all of him. I pause with my mouth full and savor the moment before I start moving back and forth, licking, wanting my prize. His fingers grip and release my hair. His breathing is deep, with gasps when I lick the head. I have the power and joy to give pleasure to this man.
I'm loving this. If somebody had said to me a month ago that I'd be on my knees in my kitchen sucking my father's cock and dying to taste his climax, I would have hit them, yet here I am, doing that and knowing I'll do it again, anytime and anywhere he wants.
I'm surprised he's lasted this long. I slide my other hand between my legs and capture some of the flood coming out of me. I take my other hand off his cock and slide around until I have his strong ass in my hand. As I suck, I reach around with my left and pull with my right, opening him.
He growls as he feels my finger on his ring. I smear my juice into his anus and then press my finger. One knuckle in is all it takes. His hands clench: I feel his cock swell, and then the first shot hits the back of my mouth hard. I pull my finger out and hold his ass with both hands as he grunts, cumming again, a flood over my tongue. Warm, pungent, and slimy. My reward. Once more, a bit less, and now I slow down and just gently caress, and I feel his body twitch. He's done.
I rise, sliding my hands up his body and around his neck while I lift and wrap my legs around his waist. I angle my head, and our lips meet as lovers for the first time. I can taste my climax, and I know he can taste his. I feel his flaccid cock against my wet pussy as our tongues duel. We're both moaning. He pulls back, his lips still brushing mine. "I love you, Pixie."
I squeeze him with my legs and arms and hear him grunt as I press the air out of his lungs. "I love you, Dad. Now more than ever."
I drop down and bend over, picking up his robe and placing it in his hand. "Till things change," I whisper. I turn and leave, picking my robe off the floor.
July 14, 8:57 AM
The sun is pouring in my window. I don't remember getting back to my room. I'm lying naked on my bed, the sheets off on the floor. I run the memory of last night through my mind. This, this thing, this should not work. There is so much cultural wrongness, yet here I am, guilt-free and planning the final act. I know this will not be forever. I said it: 'till things change', but my relationship with my father is now deeper than I could have ever imagined, and that fills me with joy and satisfaction.
There's a message on the burner.
Thank you.
No, Dad, thank YOU.
I have work today, but not for another hour. I get up and put on one of Dad's tee shirts. They go down to my knees and hang off my shoulders, but even before our thing started, I loved wearing his clothes. I hear them in the kitchen.
Faith is talking on the phone while eating a piece of toast. Dad's sitting at the island watching her, and he takes a sip from his mug as I walk in. Faith turns her back to fill her travel mug. I grab the bottom of the shirt and give Dad a full-frontal flash. He nearly spits out his coffee. It's the first time he's actually seen my body. I drop the shirt as Faith turns. Dad wags a finger at me, but his smile is ear-to-ear.
"'Bout time you got up, kid," he says. "Don't you have work today?"
"Yeah, not till ten. I slept in." I nudge Faith away from the coffee pot and fill my mug.
"Gee, not like you to sleep in," Dad says, stifling a smile.
I stare right at him. "I had a problem that I had to solve. Kept me up late."
"Oh yeah? Was it a hard problem?"
I lick my lips. "Not when I got done."
My mother picks that moment to interrupt. "Pixie, can you go to the store today? Your father is too busy with his book. Something about a deadline."
"I'm not sure if I can get out of work. Can't you go, Mom?'
My mother fixes me with a laser-beam stare and then looks over my shoulder at Dad. "No, dear, I cannot. Somebody has work at a real job."
Faith turns and walks out, leaving me with my mouth hanging open and my wonderful father looking down into his coffee. What a fucking cunt.
Dad gets up and puts his mug in the sink. "Well, I've got final editing to do."
"Dad, I'm sorry."
My father comes over and hugs me. "You make it all worth it, Pixie," he whispers right in my ear.
Before I can take that conversation further, he releases me and walks out.
July 14, 11:19 AM
Dad locked himself in the study, so I couldn't talk to him. I'm at work now, in the lady's room.
Tonight. My room, midnight.
Three dots. I bet he's been watching that phone since I walked out of the kitchen.
NO. Too dangerous.
Yes, please, it's time. I'll make sure.
?????
I smile. I've been thinking about this, and I did some research.
She takes Ambien sometimes. I'll crush one and mix it in her dinner.
Nothing. He's thinking. Thinking what a devious, horny daughter he has.
This is too far. I can't.
We both know what's going to happen when he comes into my room. I know why he's worried, but I want this; he wants this and needs it.
You need this.
I hit send and then type again.
I want you in me. I need you in me.
I have to get back to work. I put the phone back in my pants and leave the bathroom.
An hour later, the pace has slowed, and I check the phone.
Are you on...?
I smile. It's going to happen.
For years. All safe.
He's right back.
Are you a...?
This is fun.
Nope. Father of a friend.
?????
I laugh.
LOL. All good. No scandal. Friend doesn't know but wife was there.
Dyin to hear.
Someday.
For the rest of my shift, I'm buzzed. No fear, no guilt. It's four, and I'm heading home.
My mother is home, and she's in a shit mood. Something happened at her work. Dad and I share looks and stay quiet as we make dinner. I want to wink at him and tease him, but he glares at me when I brush his ass with my hand. Geez.
We're at the table, and Faith's letting it all out. The agency has been sold to a national chain, and they are assigning someone to shadow her. She's freaking out. Yelling about how this will fuck her 'personal relationship' with the clients. Yeah, pretty sure Prudential Realty does not condone fucking to advance your career.
I crushed up the Ambien and put it in her meal, but now I'm really worried. She's sucking wine down like it's gonna be outlawed tomorrow. I read somewhere that you shouldn't mix them.
July 14, 7:15 PM
Faith passed out on the couch. Nice. Maybe my plan will move faster. Now, instead of later tonight.
Even though Faith is passed out, Dad is still being weird. It's late, and we're finishing cleaning the kitchen, but he's avoiding me. I stop and stare at him, and he points to Faith splayed out on the couch, her dress up and her pantyless pussy on display. Whatever, but he better be in my room later.
July 14, 11:50 PM
It's 11:50. I haven't slept. My ears feel like elephant ears from trying to hear him. He carried her up to bed. No kiss, no text, I'll be by later. Just, 'I need to take care of her.' What? Like she takes care of YOU? I'm mad, I'm sad, I'm horny. WTF.
July 15, 3:01 AM
It's midnight, just like I told him. I hear him come out of their room. I'm lying in my bed, naked, lights off. The room is pitch dark.
My door opens slowly. I can see his form moving in, wearing a robe. He stops and closes the door. He has to be able to hear my heart pounding. I move on my bed. His feet shuffle along the floor, and the bed moves as he hits it with his leg.
I feel his fingers touch my leg.
"This is a bad idea."
"She's got the pill and the wine. She wouldn't wake up if we were next to her."
We're actually talking about our forbidden relationship. That's new. His fingers are trailing up and down my leg. My pussy is juicing. I can hear him breathing, deep and hard. His fingers stop.
"Pixie, this is wrong. We've done too much already."
Until that night in the kitchen, he never used my name. I like it. I get up and reach out, feeling the terrycloth robe. He's facing me. I slide my hands in the front and over his shoulders, slipping the robe off his body as I move against him. His arms wrap around me as mine wrap around him. I feel his hard cock against my belly. He sighs. I wiggle my body, lift up on my toes, and put my mouth to his ear.
"This, this naughty thing we're doing, has made your book amazing and my life more exciting and rewarding than ever."
Dad's hands drop to cradle my ass. I sigh; it feels so good. He whispers,
"Can't we just keep it this way?"
I drop down off my toes. My mouth is just above his nipple. I lean back, and his cock sticks out. I try to capture it between my legs. My tongue caresses his nipple. He gasps as I whisper.
"That's not what you want. What do you want, Dad?"
Dad's breathing deeply, cock twitching.
"You know."
"Tell me, Dad. Use the words if you really want it."
I feel his fingers on my chin, angling my head up. His lips meet mine in a deep, wet kiss. I grind my hips against him, and he pants into my mouth. He pulls back, his lips still brushing mine.
"I want to...want to...make love to you."
I find his rigid cock and stroke it gently as I answer. "No, you don't. Say it."
His penis is so warm and hard. I run my fingers over the skin, knowing this will be inside me soon. I let his cock slip out of my hand.
"Say it, Dad."
His hands clench my ass, a finger probing between my legs. He exhales loudly. "I want to fuck you."
I have his cock in my hand again, I feel it twitch when he says 'fuck.' I open my legs as his finger finds my vagina, wet and open. I sigh as he slides it in. I squeeze his hands with my legs.
"Fuck who?"
Dad's long finger toys with my pussy. "You."
I tip up and put my mouth to his ear. "Nuh-uh. Who?"
Dad moves a little. Now his other hand is in front. He slides it between my legs and cups my sex, his middle finger sliding in next to the one already there. I'm gonna cum just from this. Dad's panting.
"My daughter. I want to fuck my daughter."
I reach out. Dad's hands fall away. I'm sure he's worried, thinks it's over until I click the bedside light on. We both blink to adjust. He's seen me; I flashed him in the kitchen, but now I get to see my dad in all his naked glory. He's beautiful.
"No more darkness, Dad. Say it again."
We're inches apart. His rigid cock, with a drop of clear fluid at the tip, is just brushing my pubic bush. My nipples are longer and harder than ever. We're staring into each other's eyes as he answers in a raspy, needy voice, "I want to fuck my daughter. Now, tomorrow, all the fucking time."
I giggle, disengage, and flop back onto my bed, throwing my legs wide, putting my pussy on display. He's licked it, and now he can see it in the light. I run my finger up my groove, plowing the wetness. "Where do you want to cum, Dad?"
Dad's stroking that lovely fat cock. "In your pussy."
I use two fingers to open my pussy. "Why are you standing there?"
I move to the middle as Dad gets on and between my legs.
He's looming over me, resting on his elbows, his hands under my shoulders. His body is so warm. I feel his penis against my thigh, sliding up.
"I'm not gonna last long, Pixie."
I love that he keeps saying my name as we prepare to seal our union.
"I'm going to cum as soon as your cock touches my pussy."
I gasp, and my mouth gapes open as I feel the fat head of my dad's erection touch my lips. I climax; I can't help it.
There's that feeling. The combination of feeling and knowing. Feeling his cock pressing in, spreading me, going deeper. Knowing that I am being filled, being loved.
His eyes are closed. He's concentrating on the feeling of filling me. I squeeze his toned biceps as he feeds more cock into me. We're both panting. I'm close to another orgasm. I feel his penis twitch.
"Fuck!" he says. He was right, he came.
"Don't stop, Dad. Keep going, please. Please fuck your daughter."
He growls. I knew dirty talk would keep him going, and it does. He shoves, and I feel the tip at my cervix.
"You good, baby?"
"Dad, fuck me. Fuck me as hard as you can. I want it."
I put my legs around him, way up, as only a gymnast can, as he pulls back and rams in hard, the bed bouncing off the wall. Oh, I'm gonna get it good.
I hear you have nice fingers.
I was way out of line.
Not what I hear.
???
You paid attention and took a chance.
Yes.
Did your finger get wet?
Very.
You caused that.
3 dots... waiting
I have to go.
I typed one more message. Thank You.
I put the phone in my pocket and headed downstairs.
I'm sitting on the couch typing on my phone. The parents think I'm doing socials. Keepin' it real. I'm careful and keep my legs closed and the screen up. Faith is sitting on the other wing of the couch, working on her second glass of wine, blabbing about some huge house she sold today; I'm picturing her naked on the bedroom floor of the place while the young couple ravages her from both ends. I smile. A small part of me would love to watch that. Dad is in the kitchen making dinner like he does every night. Love that man.
Faith gets up. "Gotta pee." Thanks, didn't need to know that. Dad comes in and sits in front of me on the big ottoman. I keep typing.
"Mom drinks way too much." I can't let Dad know how I've objectified my mother by using her name.
Dad sighs and puts his hand lightly on my knee. Is it me, or is he getting more touchy?
"I know, I just don't know what to do about it."
This is it. I'm gonna do it. I look into those beautiful blue eyes and slowly open my legs. Dad's eyes naturally flick down and then go wide. He stops talking and stares. I know he can clearly see my yellow thong with the huge wet mess between my legs. I open wide, pause, and then close my legs as my mother comes back. Our eyes meet, and I smile, catching my lip in my teeth.
Dad, blushing like crazy, gets up. "Well, dinner isn't going to cook itself," he says. I can see the fat bulge in his shorts. I win.
As he walks away, I lean my head back. "Dad, you make life here so much better. I wish I could do more to help you."
He stops and just looks at me. Faith, clueless, drinks wine and yaps.
After dinner, I help Dad clean up. As he moves around the kitchen, I notice he's finding reasons to touch me, nothing sexy or inappropriate, but a lot more than ever before. I do the same, holding his trim waist as I move behind him, reaching into the sink and touching his hands as I pull the plates out of the soak, making sure our hips touch, too. I can see his cock is hard. I'm loving this. He is, too.
"Another book signing tour tomorrow?"
Dad puts the last dish in the dishwasher and then moves behind me. He puts his wet, warm hands on my hips, just at the edge of my shorts, and on the bare skin below my tank top. So fuckin warm and wet. My pussy pulses.
"Yeah, two days, out in Asheville. Sorry, Pixie, wet hands."
I'm leaning on the sink, pushing my hips back. Dad just pauses, and I can feel the bulge.
"S'ok, Dad. You have nice hands. Wet is good, right?"
What a stupid thing to say! Arggg, It was all I could think of. He's cool though. Ignores my stupid remarks.
"Gonna miss the old man?" he asks as he releases me, takes off the apron, and hangs it in the small closet.
I untie my apron and shove over next to him, loving the contact. "More than I can say," I reply in a whisper. I step away quickly and out of the kitchen. Faith's passed out. Banging for bucks must be exhausting.
July 10, 1030PM
The lights are down low. Dad and I are on the couch; Faith is still passed out on the other wing. Dad put a movie on, but I'm paying no attention. I'm getting a text.
I got a surprise tonight.
I heard.
This freaky game we're playing, should I end it? Just tell him it's me? We both know he knows.
Why?
Why what? Why did I leave him my thong that got soaked when he touched me? Why did I put it on, knowing he had masturbated and cum all over it and show him?
Why not? It was a tribute. Thank you.
I glance over. Dad is half looking at me.
I'm weak, and I'm scared. If it goes too far, there's no way to undo it.
Pay attention and take a chance.
I put the phone away and watch Dad as he puts his on the table.
"I'm cold," I say.
Dad pulls the fleece off the couch. "Here."
I get up, go over, grab the fleece, flake it out, plop next to him, and throw it over us. He glances at Faith. I cuddle up to him.
"Just enjoying a movie with my dad."
I hold his hand under the blanket. It's nice. Real nice. I know he's hard, even if I can't see.
July 10, 11:30 PM
I'm up in bed now. Faith woke up, so we all went to bed. Dad's leaving early tomorrow. I type out a text.
Good luck. Hurry home. You're missed.
July 1, 8:11 AM
Dad's out in Asheville. I'm stuck at home. They don't need me at work today--Faith's in her home office. I want to text Dad naked selfies, but I won't. That violates the unwritten and unspoken rules of our game.
I'm gonna go hang in the pool.
I'm putting on my thong bikini I got last time I was shopping with Janet. She got one also. We shared a dressing room to try them on. Janet was wearing a G-string, wow. I'd never seen her pussy and when Janet dropped her shorts, well, there it was. She was talking away, and I fought not to stare. What's happening to me?
July 11, 10:30 AM
Well, I'm leaning on the edge of the pool, checking my phone. Dad never answered my text. He must be really busy. Faith just walked out wearing a thong-string bikini, no surprise; it's all she owns. I'm surprised she doesn't wear them to show homes with pools.
I have problems with my mother. No shit, right? Well, one of them is, she's gorgeous. I got Dad's shape. I'm this short, curvy, muscular kid with a killer butt; she's fucking long and lean, has tits that are way bigger than mine, maybe a C? I don't know. She's walking to a lounge like she's in a fashion show. Her hips shift, and she looks off into the distance. I've never paid attention to her as a woman; now, with my new perversions, yeah plural, I see her differently. She stops in front of me.
"I had to get off the phone and take a break. Thought I'd catch some sun."
Who cares? "Yeah, it's nice out here today."
She's standing and staring at me. What the fuck?
"Um, I like to tan."
I look up. "Okay."
"Um, all over."
What the fuck? I had no idea. I've got a job, and I'm out five days a week. Is she, like, asking my permission?
"Yeah, okay, no prob. Just us girls."
Acting casual, pretending to be pals with my slut mother. She just pulls the strings, and in a blink, she's fucking naked. Whoa.
I'm watching her while typing, pretending not to watch. I don't know what's going on with me. I mean, girls, women. I never looked, you know? Now, I'm seeing my mother, whom I despise, as a sexy woman. First, I'm leering at my best friend, who I am sure is not into girls, and now I'm watching my mother bend over to arrange her towel, giving me a very clear look at her vagina and butthole.
She's wet. She's fucking wet. I bet she was doing phone sex before she came out. She has to know I can see this. Is it that she doesn't care or...? No, no way. But there's Mary. No, she just doesn't give a shit. Slut.
"You can join me if you like."
"No thanks, I'm going back in the house. It's hot out here."
She picks up her phone. "Okay."
July 11, 7:08 PM
So, I'm back in my room, naked. I do that now, no clothes in my bedroom. I wish Dad and I had swapped naked selfies; I'd love to rub one out looking at a pic of his hard cock, which I have as yet to see. Did I say that right?
My mother and I got along for the day, me mostly avoiding her. We faked our way through dinner, and I cleaned up and bugged out back to my room.
I get out the sex phone, as I call it now. He sent a text.
How much of a chance?
I smile. I picture him naked on the bed in his hotel room, stroking his big, I think, cock.
At times like these, it's important to take a chance but be sensitive to the response.
His answer is instantaneous.
You think?
I run my finger up my drenched pussy, lick my finger, and type.
I know. I'm sure. G'nite.
I'm picturing Dad getting ready to cum all over that wonderful belly.
That's all for now. I'm going to get out my big dildo and masturbate. Talk to you all later.
July 12, 8:13 AM
I'm checking my phone. I just woke up. A text. Maybe a selfie of his hard cock and a pool of cum? No, it's just a text, not that I'm surprised.
I'm going home tonight but won't be in until late.
I'm sure you're looking forward to being home.
Three dots. I picture him, naked and hard on that motel bed.
More than ever.
I feel my pussy clench, and a warm feeling comes over me. He's had time away from temptation. Time to think, time to worry, time to decide. That message says a lot. I feel so fucking good right now.
July 12, 8:30 AM
I don't have to be at work till ten. Faith's long gone. I'm naked and having breakfast in the kitchen. I'm leaning on the island, observing that it is the perfect height for sex. Ha, this is fun.
I climb up on the island. The granite is fucking cold. I lay back and grab my legs, pulling them back and imagining Dad sitting on one of the high stools, looking at my wet pussy. Gotta rub one out.
July 12, 3:30 PM
I'm back home. Job sucks but it's just for the summer. Faith's not home, she texted, gotta show a house. You know what I'm picturing so I'll just leave it. I'm edgy, nervous, but also anxious, wanting him home, wanting to continue the game, wondering how far he'll go, how far I'll go. I can't sit still. I'm gonna binge watch all three Pitch Perfect movies.
July 12, 6:02 PM
I just got out of the shower. I'm looking at myself. I've got some definition; I like it. I pinch my nipples. It's fucking amazing; it's like there's a wire from my nips to my pussy; bang, I'm wet. I run my fingers through my pubic hair. Faith has none. Should I shave? Is that what he wants? I gotta know. I pick up the phone.
I've got a friend. She wants to shave. She needs a man's opinion.
Nothing. I wait a few minutes, still nothing. Weird. Must be busy. Mattress Mom just got home. I'll check later.
I make Faith some dinner, and we have a civil conversation over some Hallmark piece of shit movie. She's not evil, just very superficial and self-centered. Could be worse.
July 12, 2:00 AM
I just heard him. It's 2 AM and I hear Dad walking through the house. I look at my door, willing it to open, have him walk in. What would I do? I'm lying naked on my bed. Throw the sheet off? Turn the light on? Crawl to him? I laugh at myself. Pixie, you are one fucked-up girl.
July 13, 8:32 AM
There's a lot of fucking sunshine filling my room. How did I manage to stay asleep? Fuck, I'm almost late for work. More later. He left a text.
Women have hair.
July 13, 11:17 AM
Things are slow here, not many customers. I'm gonna get sent home; I'm the summer girl; the regulars depend on tips. That's cool, I can't concentrate anyway after I read his text.
I thought about coming in.
She said she was awake. She sleeps au natural.
That would have been a problem.
Not for her.
Then, nothing. Fuck me, this is torture. What does he mean, 'problem?' Did he change his mind? Did he want to come in and talk, tell me how he can't love me the way he needs to, the way I want to? Am I pushing too hard? He sent me his most recent chapter; it's much better. Well, I'm not getting much out of this, but it's helping him. He needs this book to be a hit. A big fat advance so he and I can leave. Am I horrible for wanting that? What do I want from Dad? For how long? Thinking is exhausting; I'd rather just react. Marla just told me, "It's too slow, go home." Go home, he's there. Now what?
July 13, 3:32 PM
I'm looking out my window. I can see the pool. Dad's on that lounge he loves: the tall one that sits under the shelter. I don't see his phone, I'm not surprised, he does this to get ideas. He never swims. Today it's just a pair of white linen shorts I've never seen before. I concentrate on the slight bulge. Is he wearing underwear? He's writing a lot; he must be on a tear. I'll wait, standing naked in my room. Fuck, I'm wet just looking at him.
July 13, 3:54 PM
I didn't masturbate, so restrained of me. I wanted to. I wanted to stand in the window and fuck myself, hoping he'd look up, come up, take me. Now, he's asleep on the lounge. I put on the purple pair of those shorts I got, the ones I cut the underwear out of. I found my oldest and saggiest white tank top. If I had tits, they'd be falling out of it; as it is, it's just my long, fat nipples, hard, sending a message.
July 13, 4:37 PM
I'm standing at the slider. I don't know what to expect. Is this going to be a move forward or a gentle end? Only one way to find out.
He's on his personal lounge; it sits higher than normal ones. He has bad knees. He's awake now, looking at this tablet. It's a beautiful sunny day. I reach for the handle with a shaky hand. I'm still in the AC, and I'm sweating- and juicing.
Dad looks up as I walk out. Big smile. Why do I feel like he's been gone for a month, not two days? He's so handsome. The sun reflects off his black hair- now with flecks of gray- like he needs to look more sexy. As I walk around the pool, he puts the tablet down and waits for me.
"Purple today?"
I stop next to his lounge and tug on the leg of my shorts. "Yeah, I got three pairs. Glad you like 'em."
Dad extends his hand, asking. I step forward, accepting. His fingers capture the edge of the leg, like last time, the back of his fingers against my leg. I quiver; I can't control it.
"Fabric like this, that new stuff, much cooler, right?"
Not right fucking now, I think, I'm so hot I'm gonna burst into flames.
"Yeah, great for summer; I love 'em."
We're eye-to-eye. That hand, my father's hand, rolls over, like last time. His palm is against my thigh, so warm, so fucking warm. He just holds his hand there. My hands lay against my thighs. I slide them up, like last time, across my abdomen, but this time I open the web of my hands and gently cup the bottom of my breasts. No expression on his face or mine. I glance down. He is hard under those shorts. I'm sure he has no underwear on; there's a wet spot at the tip of his erection. His hand is moving up. I edge a little closer, giving permission, like last time.
Oh, fuck, his fingers feel so good against my skin. He's close now, oh so close. I bite my lip. His eyes go wide. He knows. I can feel his fingers touching my pubic hair. No panties. He keeps his eyes on mine as his finger toys with the tips of my hair, waiting. I move my hands over my breasts and capture my hard nipples with my fingers, pinching, pulling, signaling.
His finger, that long, strong finger, presses into my pubic hair, and then, he's there. I feel his finger touch my vagina, I'm so unbelievably wet it slips inside me, just a little. I quiver, and I move my right hand from my breast to his right leg to steady myself. Dad stops but doesn't take his finger out of me. I squeeze his leg as I pinch my nipple, asking for more.
His finger moves out and along my lips slowly, so damn slowly. He's exploring, taking in every sensation. His breathing is deeper, his hand a little shaky. I move my hand up his leg; I'm touching the hem of the leg of those white linen shorts. On top or under? I chicken out, move my hand on top of the fabric, distracted by his finger finding my big clit. I know it's big because I look at porn, I'm bigger than average. He touches it, and I moan, I can't help it. Two more seconds and I will cum all over his hand, but he moves down.
We're staring at each other as he toys with my pussy. I can feel the rise in the fabric of his shorts, I know I'm close to his erection. He trails his finger between my lips, opening me. I'm so aware of what I'm feeling that it takes a second for me to realize I'm touching my father's cock through his shorts. I look down; he's rigid, pointing up toward his belly, and I'm running the tips of my fingers along the fabric, a big wet spot at the end.
I open my legs even more. I feel the finger pressing in a little, pausing. I close my fingers around his girth. I feel his cock twitch as his fingers slide in; I grip his cock, move my hand just a little, as I feel him deeper in me. We still just stare at each other. Fuck he has long fingers; he's way up in me. I'm pulling on my nipple, shaking, stroking his penis through his shorts. I know I'm going to cum really fucking hard, but I fight it; I want more.
I bunch the fabric around my hand as I stroke. We're both covered in sweat, mouths open, panting, embracing the wrong.
I run my thumb along his cock, feeling that spot below the head. I don't know much, but I know that's a hot spot for guys. I want to bend over, pull his shorts down and fill my mouth with his cock. Not today.
Oh shit, he found it. I feel the pad of his finger on my G-spot. He knows, too; he presses and moves, and his big thumb is pressing on my clit. I tighten my grip on his cock, moving faster. He wants me to cum, and I'm not doing it alone.
I feel the orgasm building like a wave. I know my mouth is hanging open, and my nipple hurts from me pulling on it. I move to the other as I feel his cock swelling. He's close. I'm closer. I'm there.
Starbursts in my brain, and I yell, really yell, my head leaning back as my release washes over me. I gush from my pussy, drenching his hand and my shorts. My eyes roll back, and when they return, I look down; I see his penis twitching, the wet mess spreading from the head of his cock as he climaxes, a bit shooting out of the waistband of those shorts. I feel his cock in my hand, pumping, pumping his cum as he fingers his daughter. This is the nastiest thing I've ever done, and I know I want more.
Dad takes his hand away, still looking at me as he licks his fingers. Fuck, almost came again. I let go of his cock, run my finger through the spot of cum on his belly, and slip my finger into my mouth; nice. I just back away, turn, and go into the house. I'm shaking. My life just changed.
Okay, I'm back in my room. Holy fuck. Gotta take a breath; it was NOT a gentle end. I gotta send him a message before I tell you what happened.
That was awesome.
Yeah, beyond awesome.
No regrets at all.
Three dots.
ditto.
Shit. We just broke the wall we've been hiding behind. Just a little, but I was so buzzed I forgot to pretend it wasn't me. I guess, under the circumstances, it's dumb to keep trying to hide it.
July 13, 5:35 PM
I hear Dad moving around the house. I want to go talk to him, stop playing our game, and just do it, but Mayonnaise Legs just got home. You know, easy to spread.
July 13, 7:18 PM
I'm buried in the huge sectional couch, watching Netflix. Faith is in her office, sending pics of her vulva to home inspectors. I don't know that she is; I just assume. Dad's making dinner. I haven't mentioned this, but he's a great cook. My phone goes off. Dad's texting.
I feel guilty, but it felt so good.
He doesn't start our chats, I do. Interesting.
Didn't mind the fur?
I prefer it.
But she shaves?
Lasered, her choice.
I'm typing, not thinking.
Tongues feel better.
I look at my phone. Did I really just send that?
R u sure?
Well, I guess the rules have changed. No more hiding in the third person. I feel my pussy getting wet.
Never surer-Till things change.
Nothing for a minute.
Yes.
Yes? Yes what?
I send one more.
Sometimes, I get thirsty late at night, so I go get a drink in the kitchen.
I drop my phone and think back to this morning, lying on my mother's granite island. I have a plan.
July 14, 1 AM
It's 1 AM. I'm in the kitchen, naked, lying on the island. The lights are out; the room is in deep darkness. Back to anonymity, better that way- for now. I left my robe on the floor at the door, he'll see it or feel it when he comes in. If he comes in. We never texted after that one I told you about. I swear I'm leaving a puddle on this rock. I hear him.
July 14, 1:58 AM
There's a board on the stairs that squeaks, just a little. That's why I'm here. If Faith wakes up and comes looking, we'll get a warning- if we need one. I just heard it. He's on his way.
I hear my robe rustle as his foot finds it. The room is pitch dark. I feel like my ears are growing huge, trying to hear him. I hear him breathing, deeper than normal, closer; I sense him, see the dark outline.
I twitch; he touches me, looking for me. His hand on my thigh, moving up over my abs and slowing. He knows I'm naked. I go, "Mmmm," barely audible, but enough. I know he can feel me breathing, heaving air into my lungs, tense, but very needy.
His finger has found the edge of the slight rise of my tiny breast. His other hand, his right, is caressing the side of my thigh. I have never felt so loved and so excited. I expected him to show up and jam his face between my legs. He's teasing me, no, not teasing, prepping me? So, this is foreplay; I like it, I like it a lot.
My body is buzzing; the only word for it. His left index finger is just touching my skin, tracing the outer circle of my breast. My nipple feels like it's going to explode. His right index finger is trailing up and down my thigh, moving closer up and further in between my legs with every pass. I keep moving my legs wider. Yes. More, please. My right arm flops off the counter, and I feel him. He has a robe on, and I clutch the fabric at his hip.
The finger on my breast is getting closer to my nipple on every revolution. The one on my thigh is on the inside, moving slower and moving up. I reach with my left hand and grab the hand towel from the rack under the counter and put it in my mouth, biting hard. I need to be quiet, and this is the only way. He is such a tease, and I'm dying.
Both fingers pull back. My body is shaking. No, please, no. I need this; I need to climax. I feel his body shift. He's not leaving.
His fingers clamp my nipple and squeeze hard as his other hand pinches my clit. I scream into that towel as I cum, shaking, my hand clamped full of terrycloth, the other gripping the cold edge of the countertop as my orgasm consumes me. I'm flopping on that granite slab, the energy of my climax racing through me. He's pinching and releasing my nipple in the same cadence as he is torturing my clitoris.
I've never enjoyed an orgasm like this. He's good; amazing would be more accurate, but I know what's making it better: the wrongness.
Then they are gone. The fingers leave, and he reaches down and pries my fingers off his robe. I hear his bare feet on the ceramic tile floor, and his shadow blocks my view of the clock on the microwave. He didn't leave. There will be more. I reach down and grab my legs behind the knees. When you're a gymnast, you're wicked flexible. I pull my legs back, waiting, hoping. The counter jiggles, I feel his warm, strong hands grab my ankles and pull. Dad gently pulls me until my ass is at the edge of the counter. I hear one of the stools moving on the floor.
Really? I picture this, him moving a stool so he can SIT DOWN and lick my pussy. Oh fuck, that might mean he plans on being there for a while. I'm going to need that towel. I'm hoping he isn't going to torment me this time.
As his hands move up my legs, brushing over my hands, he presses them open, knowing how wide I can spread. I feel his stubble on my thigh. I shake. So intense. His hands come to rest on the sides of my ass, holding me as his cheek moves closer. I feel his hot breath on my pussy, the air moving my pubic hair. I can feel the juice flowing out of me. This is sensual torture.
Is he going to dive in or tease me more? I've only been licked by one guy, and he went at me like I was a Wendy's burger; this, this is a whole new galaxy of passion.
His left hand finds my breast, and his fingers capture a nipple. I bite the towel.
His tongue touches my right thigh at the edge of my vagina. It feels so hot as he trails it up and over, through my pubic hair and just above my clit. He knows exactly what he's doing; trailing down the left side, running in the crease where my legs meet my pussy. He's slowing at the bottom. He pauses. His tongue is at the base of my entrance. It moves down. No, he is not going to lick my ass. Nobody has ever been there. What's the point?
I feel his tongue bore into my ring, and I immediately know what the point is. I never knew how sensual that spot could be. As if what we are doing wasn't bad enough, he's taken it to the limit. I quiver. He presses his tongue flat and licks up, forcing my lips open and getting a mouth full of me as a reward. I cum, biting the towel and yelling, pumping my release into his mouth as his tongue flips, asking for more.
His mouth moves off; the cool air of the kitchen bathes my pussy. I feel his right hand moving up my left leg. His tongue touches my clit, blasting an electric charge through my groin. One finger finds my entrance, gently pushing in as I feel his lips touch my clit. Deeper, deeper, now turning.
Oh, fuck. I know what he's going to do, and I may just combust. I am in so much trouble.
I'm gasping into the towel as I feel that big finger barely touch my G-spot. His breath is deep and warm on my clit. Then it happens. He pushes up with his finger, massaging my spot as his lips close around my clitoris and suck- hard. His left hand is flat on my belly, holding me down and enhancing the smashing climax I am enjoying.
I'm cumming, yelling into the towel, pressing my hips against his hand, and jerking my hips to get more sensation. Just when it becomes too much, he stops and takes his hand away, but I feel his presence. He stands. I hear the stool moving back--my turn.
He's fucking ruined me for any man I ever meet. He set the bar in fucking space. I owe him, and I can't wait.
I flip off the counter with ease, land on my feet, and drop to my knees as my hands reach out and feel that robe. I throw it wide, and he shucks it off as my hands grab the back of his thighs, moving up and around until they wrap around his cock. My father's cock.
I'm so wound up. I've only given three blowjobs. The first one lasted ten seconds; he pulled out and blasted all over my face. The other two were better; one guy coached me. I like to have them finish in my mouth. Now I'm in the big leagues.
I extend my tongue and start at the base. Dad doesn't shave or trim. I inhale the scent of body wash and pheromones as I trail my tongue up the underside of his erection. He inhales quickly, and my hair fills his hands. Just holding and panting. I feel that spot under the head. Dad is cut; I like that.
My tongue captures a drop at the end, and I let my lips embrace the tip. Slowly, I take him into my mouth, one hand holding around the base, just in case. I can almost get all of him. I pause with my mouth full and savor the moment before I start moving back and forth, licking, wanting my prize. His fingers grip and release my hair. His breathing is deep, with gasps when I lick the head. I have the power and joy to give pleasure to this man.
I'm loving this. If somebody had said to me a month ago that I'd be on my knees in my kitchen sucking my father's cock and dying to taste his climax, I would have hit them, yet here I am, doing that and knowing I'll do it again, anytime and anywhere he wants.
I'm surprised he's lasted this long. I slide my other hand between my legs and capture some of the flood coming out of me. I take my other hand off his cock and slide around until I have his strong ass in my hand. As I suck, I reach around with my left and pull with my right, opening him.
He growls as he feels my finger on his ring. I smear my juice into his anus and then press my finger. One knuckle in is all it takes. His hands clench: I feel his cock swell, and then the first shot hits the back of my mouth hard. I pull my finger out and hold his ass with both hands as he grunts, cumming again, a flood over my tongue. Warm, pungent, and slimy. My reward. Once more, a bit less, and now I slow down and just gently caress, and I feel his body twitch. He's done.
I rise, sliding my hands up his body and around his neck while I lift and wrap my legs around his waist. I angle my head, and our lips meet as lovers for the first time. I can taste my climax, and I know he can taste his. I feel his flaccid cock against my wet pussy as our tongues duel. We're both moaning. He pulls back, his lips still brushing mine. "I love you, Pixie."
I squeeze him with my legs and arms and hear him grunt as I press the air out of his lungs. "I love you, Dad. Now more than ever."
I drop down and bend over, picking up his robe and placing it in his hand. "Till things change," I whisper. I turn and leave, picking my robe off the floor.
July 14, 8:57 AM
The sun is pouring in my window. I don't remember getting back to my room. I'm lying naked on my bed, the sheets off on the floor. I run the memory of last night through my mind. This, this thing, this should not work. There is so much cultural wrongness, yet here I am, guilt-free and planning the final act. I know this will not be forever. I said it: 'till things change', but my relationship with my father is now deeper than I could have ever imagined, and that fills me with joy and satisfaction.
There's a message on the burner.
Thank you.
No, Dad, thank YOU.
I have work today, but not for another hour. I get up and put on one of Dad's tee shirts. They go down to my knees and hang off my shoulders, but even before our thing started, I loved wearing his clothes. I hear them in the kitchen.
Faith is talking on the phone while eating a piece of toast. Dad's sitting at the island watching her, and he takes a sip from his mug as I walk in. Faith turns her back to fill her travel mug. I grab the bottom of the shirt and give Dad a full-frontal flash. He nearly spits out his coffee. It's the first time he's actually seen my body. I drop the shirt as Faith turns. Dad wags a finger at me, but his smile is ear-to-ear.
"'Bout time you got up, kid," he says. "Don't you have work today?"
"Yeah, not till ten. I slept in." I nudge Faith away from the coffee pot and fill my mug.
"Gee, not like you to sleep in," Dad says, stifling a smile.
I stare right at him. "I had a problem that I had to solve. Kept me up late."
"Oh yeah? Was it a hard problem?"
I lick my lips. "Not when I got done."
My mother picks that moment to interrupt. "Pixie, can you go to the store today? Your father is too busy with his book. Something about a deadline."
"I'm not sure if I can get out of work. Can't you go, Mom?'
My mother fixes me with a laser-beam stare and then looks over my shoulder at Dad. "No, dear, I cannot. Somebody has work at a real job."
Faith turns and walks out, leaving me with my mouth hanging open and my wonderful father looking down into his coffee. What a fucking cunt.
Dad gets up and puts his mug in the sink. "Well, I've got final editing to do."
"Dad, I'm sorry."
My father comes over and hugs me. "You make it all worth it, Pixie," he whispers right in my ear.
Before I can take that conversation further, he releases me and walks out.
July 14, 11:19 AM
Dad locked himself in the study, so I couldn't talk to him. I'm at work now, in the lady's room.
Tonight. My room, midnight.
Three dots. I bet he's been watching that phone since I walked out of the kitchen.
NO. Too dangerous.
Yes, please, it's time. I'll make sure.
?????
I smile. I've been thinking about this, and I did some research.
She takes Ambien sometimes. I'll crush one and mix it in her dinner.
Nothing. He's thinking. Thinking what a devious, horny daughter he has.
This is too far. I can't.
We both know what's going to happen when he comes into my room. I know why he's worried, but I want this; he wants this and needs it.
You need this.
I hit send and then type again.
I want you in me. I need you in me.
I have to get back to work. I put the phone back in my pants and leave the bathroom.
An hour later, the pace has slowed, and I check the phone.
Are you on...?
I smile. It's going to happen.
For years. All safe.
He's right back.
Are you a...?
This is fun.
Nope. Father of a friend.
?????
I laugh.
LOL. All good. No scandal. Friend doesn't know but wife was there.
Dyin to hear.
Someday.
For the rest of my shift, I'm buzzed. No fear, no guilt. It's four, and I'm heading home.
July 14, 5:52 PM
My mother is home, and she's in a shit mood. Something happened at her work. Dad and I share looks and stay quiet as we make dinner. I want to wink at him and tease him, but he glares at me when I brush his ass with my hand. Geez.
We're at the table, and Faith's letting it all out. The agency has been sold to a national chain, and they are assigning someone to shadow her. She's freaking out. Yelling about how this will fuck her 'personal relationship' with the clients. Yeah, pretty sure Prudential Realty does not condone fucking to advance your career.
I crushed up the Ambien and put it in her meal, but now I'm really worried. She's sucking wine down like it's gonna be outlawed tomorrow. I read somewhere that you shouldn't mix them.
July 14, 7:15 PM
Faith passed out on the couch. Nice. Maybe my plan will move faster. Now, instead of later tonight.
Even though Faith is passed out, Dad is still being weird. It's late, and we're finishing cleaning the kitchen, but he's avoiding me. I stop and stare at him, and he points to Faith splayed out on the couch, her dress up and her pantyless pussy on display. Whatever, but he better be in my room later.
July 14, 11:50 PM
It's 11:50. I haven't slept. My ears feel like elephant ears from trying to hear him. He carried her up to bed. No kiss, no text, I'll be by later. Just, 'I need to take care of her.' What? Like she takes care of YOU? I'm mad, I'm sad, I'm horny. WTF.
July 15, 3:01 AM
It's midnight, just like I told him. I hear him come out of their room. I'm lying in my bed, naked, lights off. The room is pitch dark.
My door opens slowly. I can see his form moving in, wearing a robe. He stops and closes the door. He has to be able to hear my heart pounding. I move on my bed. His feet shuffle along the floor, and the bed moves as he hits it with his leg.
I feel his fingers touch my leg.
"This is a bad idea."
"She's got the pill and the wine. She wouldn't wake up if we were next to her."
We're actually talking about our forbidden relationship. That's new. His fingers are trailing up and down my leg. My pussy is juicing. I can hear him breathing, deep and hard. His fingers stop.
"Pixie, this is wrong. We've done too much already."
Until that night in the kitchen, he never used my name. I like it. I get up and reach out, feeling the terrycloth robe. He's facing me. I slide my hands in the front and over his shoulders, slipping the robe off his body as I move against him. His arms wrap around me as mine wrap around him. I feel his hard cock against my belly. He sighs. I wiggle my body, lift up on my toes, and put my mouth to his ear.
"This, this naughty thing we're doing, has made your book amazing and my life more exciting and rewarding than ever."
Dad's hands drop to cradle my ass. I sigh; it feels so good. He whispers,
"Can't we just keep it this way?"
I drop down off my toes. My mouth is just above his nipple. I lean back, and his cock sticks out. I try to capture it between my legs. My tongue caresses his nipple. He gasps as I whisper.
"That's not what you want. What do you want, Dad?"
Dad's breathing deeply, cock twitching.
"You know."
"Tell me, Dad. Use the words if you really want it."
I feel his fingers on my chin, angling my head up. His lips meet mine in a deep, wet kiss. I grind my hips against him, and he pants into my mouth. He pulls back, his lips still brushing mine.
"I want to...want to...make love to you."
I find his rigid cock and stroke it gently as I answer. "No, you don't. Say it."
His penis is so warm and hard. I run my fingers over the skin, knowing this will be inside me soon. I let his cock slip out of my hand.
"Say it, Dad."
His hands clench my ass, a finger probing between my legs. He exhales loudly. "I want to fuck you."
I have his cock in my hand again, I feel it twitch when he says 'fuck.' I open my legs as his finger finds my vagina, wet and open. I sigh as he slides it in. I squeeze his hands with my legs.
"Fuck who?"
Dad's long finger toys with my pussy. "You."
I tip up and put my mouth to his ear. "Nuh-uh. Who?"
Dad moves a little. Now his other hand is in front. He slides it between my legs and cups my sex, his middle finger sliding in next to the one already there. I'm gonna cum just from this. Dad's panting.
"My daughter. I want to fuck my daughter."
I reach out. Dad's hands fall away. I'm sure he's worried, thinks it's over until I click the bedside light on. We both blink to adjust. He's seen me; I flashed him in the kitchen, but now I get to see my dad in all his naked glory. He's beautiful.
"No more darkness, Dad. Say it again."
We're inches apart. His rigid cock, with a drop of clear fluid at the tip, is just brushing my pubic bush. My nipples are longer and harder than ever. We're staring into each other's eyes as he answers in a raspy, needy voice, "I want to fuck my daughter. Now, tomorrow, all the fucking time."
I giggle, disengage, and flop back onto my bed, throwing my legs wide, putting my pussy on display. He's licked it, and now he can see it in the light. I run my finger up my groove, plowing the wetness. "Where do you want to cum, Dad?"
Dad's stroking that lovely fat cock. "In your pussy."
I use two fingers to open my pussy. "Why are you standing there?"
I move to the middle as Dad gets on and between my legs.
He's looming over me, resting on his elbows, his hands under my shoulders. His body is so warm. I feel his penis against my thigh, sliding up.
"I'm not gonna last long, Pixie."
I love that he keeps saying my name as we prepare to seal our union.
"I'm going to cum as soon as your cock touches my pussy."
I gasp, and my mouth gapes open as I feel the fat head of my dad's erection touch my lips. I climax; I can't help it.
There's that feeling. The combination of feeling and knowing. Feeling his cock pressing in, spreading me, going deeper. Knowing that I am being filled, being loved.
His eyes are closed. He's concentrating on the feeling of filling me. I squeeze his toned biceps as he feeds more cock into me. We're both panting. I'm close to another orgasm. I feel his penis twitch.
"Fuck!" he says. He was right, he came.
"Don't stop, Dad. Keep going, please. Please fuck your daughter."
He growls. I knew dirty talk would keep him going, and it does. He shoves, and I feel the tip at my cervix.
"You good, baby?"
"Dad, fuck me. Fuck me as hard as you can. I want it."
I put my legs around him, way up, as only a gymnast can, as he pulls back and rams in hard, the bed bouncing off the wall. Oh, I'm gonna get it good.
