Incest/Taboo Milk and Cookies for Santa

I suppose there are some buzz-kills that will roll their eyes, hearing that as long as I can remember, I've left Santa Claus a special snack – usually some of Mom's sugar cookies and a glass of milk before I went to bed on Christmas Eve. It's tradition! Even as I grew older and came to realize Daddy was Santa...or at least, my Santa. I've left milk and cookies on the little table next to my father's easy-boy lounger. Daddy always encouraged me, giving me subtle reminders as I reached my teenage years and sometimes almost went to bed without leaving Santa his snack.

It was a ritual that Daddy really seemed to enjoy. Of course, Christmas and the holidays always brought out Daddy's sentimental side. He loved the family traditions of reading "The Night before Christmas" and decorating the tree and playing his old Christmas records with all those now dead crooners telling us it was "beginning to look a lot like Christmas." I was the youngest of his three kids – seven years younger than my next oldest sibling, my brother James and nine years younger than my older sister, Tina. As my siblings got older and began to pull away from family, I was the one Daddy turned to more and more to help him carry on the usual Christmas customs.

And to be honest, I enjoyed being the center of attention more and more – being acclaimed by one and all as Daddy's "little girl. Our relationship at Christmas became even more important as first Tina and then James left home. Tina married her high school sweetheart and moved from Ohio all the way across the nation to Southern California, settling down to raise four kids of her own. Falling in love with the climate, Tina is adamant about not visiting home in winter, loving her warmth and sunshine.

James joined the Air Force and most years has been stationed somewhere else when the holidays come. A self-proclaimed skirt chaser, he prefers to spend the holidays on leave chasing women. As a result, since I was eleven, I've been Daddy's salvation when it comes to making Christmas a family event.

In a way, I'm glad. When puberty hit and I began to grow into a young woman – things begin to grow a bit distant between my father and me. It really wasn't intentional, but I think as I started to develop boobs and curves, Daddy took a step back from me, holding me at arms length most of the time. The many hours of sitting in Daddy's lap as we watched Christmas specials and countless versions of "A Christmas Carol" evolved into Daddy sprawled out on his lounger and me sitting safely several feet away.

Despite that distance, it was Christmas time when Daddy and I seemed to connect the most – putting aside our growing differences in the spirit of the holidays. Mom and I talked about it many times...the Christmas connection and the obvious gulf between us that I suppose most girls and their fathers have – fights about clothes and boyfriends and curfews and all the restrictions that a teenager feels their parents are shackling them with.

Mom tried to be supportive for me and she was, even though I thought she took Daddy's side too much of the time. "Get real, Erica," she would tell me. "You'll always be your father's sweet little girl. It's hard on him to suddenly realize you've got tits and great legs and are maybe having sex with the Smith boy who used to deliver the paper!"

I would blush when Mom would get so frank. One thing about my mother was she never pulled her punches. And what she said was true. By the time I hit high school I had a woman's body – breasts that finally seemed to level off at a 38C cup and long shapely legs that looked good in short skirts and high heels. Add all that to long, black hair and a cute face and you'll understand that I never lacked for attention from the boys. And Mom was right in that I didn't waste any time experimenting sexually. Of course, that leads me right back to the tension that emerged between Daddy and me.

Aside from arguments about outfits that were too short, too tight or showed too much cleavage, there were um...occasional incidents that pushed Daddy and me apart. Daddy opening the front door to discover the Smith boy not only French Kissing me, but with his hand up under my sweater, copping a feel. Daddy turning the flashlight on the Smith boy's car parked in front of the house after my curfew to find me topless with my hand wrapped around the Smith boy's erect cock.

The worst incident didn't even involve a boy. It was the summer after I graduated from high school. Mom had gone shopping and Daddy was supposed to be at work. I was shaving my pussy in preparation for skimpy swimsuit season and was doing it in my parent's bathroom – Daddy having installed a huge three-sided mirror for Mom a few years before.

So there I am, naked, sitting on the edge of the tub with my legs spread wide, razor in hand having almost finished when Daddy walks unexpectedly into the bathroom. I don't know how long we both just stared silently at each other in shock, but it was long enough for Daddy to get a real good look at his eighteen year old daughter's tits and bald cunt and long enough that despite the terrified expression on his face, my father popped a significant boner in his pants.

Daddy only retreated after I screamed, "Daddy, get out and close the fucking door!" He retreated with a red face, an erection, muttering apologies as he went. He didn't even stay in the house. I could hear his car door slam and him roll out of the driveway in a rush.

Later that evening, I could hear him arguing with Mom about it. I only caught snatches of conversation, but the gist of it was he was worried about what I was into if I was shaving my bush and Mom was laughing and telling him not to worry about – that she'd done the same thing when she was my age and that it was more about appearances than about sex.

It ended with neither of us speaking to each other for over a week and both of us blushing whenever we were in the same room. Even after things settled down, there were flare-ups like the following Christmas as we opened presents, there was a gift certificate from Mom for a bikini wax at a local salon. She laughed her ass off and Daddy and I went around red-faced on Christmas Day unable to look at each other.

One other thing came out of that. I suddenly became aware that I did in fact turn my father on. I lost count of how many erections I noticed Daddy having when I was around. It was both amusing and unsettling. I would come downstairs, dressed in a tight and short party dress, going out clubbing with my friends and there would be Daddy, sitting in his lounger, pretending to not notice, but still popping a tent in his pants. Or, I'd come in from sunbathing in a teeny bikini in the back yard and there Daddy would be, looking rather guilty and flushed and sporting an obvious erection in his trousers.

I mentioned it to one of my best friends, Dana, but she just laughed and said her father was the same way. She said that like her dad, my father probably wasn't getting laid enough and there was probably some truth to that. Mom had been forced to undergo a hysterectomy when I was sixteen due to ovarian cancer – she'd recovered, but she confided in me that her sex drive just evaporated and had never come back. Of course, this didn't make me feel any better. I assumed that Daddy probably masturbated to relieve his needs and the thought that I might be providing his imagination with images tended to weird me out.

That might have been one of the reasons that I decided after a year in a local community college to transfer to the University of Ohio, almost one hundred miles away. There were other reasons – I broke up with the Smith boy when I found out he was two-timing me with Dana. I know it almost broke Mom's and Daddy's hearts to see their last chick leave the nest...almost, I still came home for holidays and yes, I still went along with Daddy's traditions including leaving out milk and cookies for Santa..

That brings us to this Christmas, me now twenty-one and feeling very worldly and mature. The tensions between Daddy and me were the same as ever as I picked up on when I hugged him when I first came through the door. I'd flung my arms around him to hug him and as I pressed my body against his, I could literally feel him jerk his hips back, avoiding contact in the chest and thigh region as much as possible.

During the first few days I was home, he had a lot of trouble looking me in the face, although I quickly picked up on a lot of sneaking glances my way. I was very much into tight fitting, scooped neck sweaters and dresses made of jersey material that were both warm (almost like flannel) and very, very clingy. We barely spoke at least until Christmas Eve afternoon while we were all sitting at the kitchen table when I asked to borrow Mom's car for a party that evening.

Mom was already reaching for her keys while Daddy's face fell and he said, "You mean you're not staying home tonight?" His voice was thick with disappointment.

"Uh, no. There's a party tonight at Dana's. A lot of my old classmates will be there that I haven't seen in a long time."

"But it's Christmas Eve, Erica!" Daddy said, scowling at me

I rolled my eyes as I anticipated another long battle in the never ending conflict between father and daughter. "Daddy – get real. I'm twenty-one years old. I'm getting a little old to hear "The Night before Christmas, and if I have to hear Perry what-his-name again, I may bang my head against the wall till I'm unconscious."

Daddy began to sputter, but Mom reached out and put her hand over his and smiling sadly, shook her head. "Erica is right, honey. She's not our little girl anymore."

"But...but, its Christmas," Daddy said, the heat fading from his voice. He looked at me in such a sad way that I felt almost guilty, as if I'd hit him below the belt. "Family should be together at Christmas." He looked at both of us. Despite my sudden pangs of guilt, I rolled my eyes again while Mom patted his hand and slowly shook her head. As she handed me her car keys, Daddy just sighed and got up and walked out of the room.

I guess I was the one who looked distressed then because Mom squeezed my hand and said, "Its okay, Erica. He'll get over it – it had to happen sooner or later."

I nodded and looked down, suddenly wanting to cry. It was beginning to hit me that I had just hurt Daddy's feelings badly. Before I could give it more thought, maybe change my mind, Mom got me off track by asking, "A party at Dana's? I thought you and she were on the outs after she stole the Smith boy from you."

I shrugged and replied, "That's a long time ago. I'm over it and it'll be fun to see folks again."

Mom frowned a bit. "Well, they're your friends. I don't know about Dana. She and the Smith boy still are together, but I hear she's gotten a bit wild. You behave tonight."

I laughed and promised to keep the partying to a minimum and went upstairs to get ready. When I came down to leave, Mom was in the kitchen, the smell of baking cookies filling the air. As I went to the hall closet to retrieve my coat, I ran into Daddy, still looking glum, but not so glum that I didn't notice his eyes crawling up and down my body. I was wearing a wine colored velvet dress that clung to me like a second skin with a low cut front that offered up a fine view of my breasts enhanced by the push-up bra I was wearing. A hemline that stopped an inch or two south of my crotch showed off my long and toned legs, enhanced by three inch stiletto heels.

"You won't change your mind, Erica?" Daddy asked glumly as he stared at me. "I've got all the good old albums out and Mom's making cookies for Santa."

I could feel Daddy's eyes slowly crawling over my shapely butt as I reached into the closet for my winter coat. "No, Daddy," I replied. I turned around, feeling myself blush just a little as Daddy's eyes rose up from my partially bared breasts to look forlornly into my eyes. Out of habit, I took a glance down as well and sure enough, there was a noticeable tent in Daddy's khaki slacks. Not for the first time did it send weird tremors through me – not revulsion, but just weird.

"I'll try to not stay out too late, Daddy," I said, hearing the lameness in my voice. My coat on, I stepped up to my father and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Daddy."

Daddy caught me by surprise, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in for a hug. As my body, not quite bundled up in my winter jacket, pressed against my father – I felt an odd tingle run through my body. We hadn't had much affectionate contact since the bathroom incident and it felt both weird and good to have Daddy holding me tight.

"Merry Christmas, baby," Daddy replied, his voice so filled with sadness, it nearly broke my heart. "His arms tightened around me a little, pulling me closer and I stifled a squeal as I felt his boner pressing against my thigh while he said added, "I reckon my little girl is all grown up now." He let me go and gave me another sad smile. "Be careful out there tonight – call if you need to."

I was at a loss for words, feeling both ashamed that I was abandoning my father on his favorite night of the year and a little stunned that I'd felt my daddy's hard cock – an experience that was going to take a while to process. A quick glance down told me Daddy's erection was still there, pressing prominently against his slacks. I had to get out of there and so I meekly waved goodbye and fled out the door.

Once I was in Mom's car, letting it warm up, I gradually calmed down. It wasn't easy. I felt bad about bailing on Daddy – bad enough that I had to fight back tears. And there was recurring images of the bulge in Daddy's pants...a big bulge the more I thought about it. I began trying to picture my father's cock – angry and aroused and that reignited those tingles I'd had when he was hugging me – tingles that centered between my legs, moistening my labia – making me, well, horny! My nipples, already hard from the cold air, swelled more to the point of aching.

I hit the steering wheel in frustration and muttered, "Fuck this!" and started up her car and drove away. I tried to banish all the thoughts of Daddy and my guilt and replace them with the possibilities Dana's party offered. I decided that I needed to get laid and maybe there would be some old classmate that would be happy to oblige me.

Alas, the party turned out to be pretty much a disappointment. There were several old classmates there – the ones who'd never really gotten over high school – the guys whose glory days had been on the high school gym floor or on the football field and who were already resembling their father's with premature beer bellies and come on lines that had been lousy back in our school days. I discovered that I had indeed gotten over the Smith boy and my best friend's betrayal – laughing and joking with them throughout the night.

Since I was driving, I only had a couple of beers – danced with several guys for the sake of dancing and was actually considering calling it quits and going home when things began to get hazy and weird – the music getting louder, the lights evolving into muted glows and people's faces and bodies getting all distorted and strange – voices slowing down or speeding up. I felt hot and sweaty, dizzy and a bit nauseous and the last thing I remembered was trying to get to a bathroom because I was pretty sure I was going to throw up and then things went black...

I dreamed – strange and bizarre dreams. Heavy metal Christmas carols blared from holes in walls. I sat on Santa's knee while he asked me lewd questions in regards to whether I'd been naughty or nice this year. Daddy, wearing a Santa hat and nothing else, sporting a monster cartoon sized erection went back and forth holding a plate of cookies and then a small, squat elf spread my legs and began licking my pussy, pausing to comment on how much he/she liked my bald clam. The elf knew how to eat pussy though and soon I felt myself approaching orgasm...

...and woke to find Dana – my former best friend for life kneeling between my spread thighs, lapping my cunt enthusiastically! I was on a large bed, my dress yanked up around my waist, panties missing and my legs draped over the side as Dana ran her tongue up and down my bare pussy – her face smeared with pussy juices. The lights were still dim and muted and things felt out of sorts – as if I was still maybe in a dream state. Shadows beyond Dana approached and became the Smith boy, his once familiar cock, erect and almost slapping against his stomach – a lusty leer etched on his face.

Dana paused and glanced over her shoulder. "She's as wet as I can make her, lover," she panted – starting to ease back to make room for him. Several things became instantly clear in my mind. I was disappointed that Dana left me on the edge of orgasm. I was astounded that I actually enjoyed a woman's mouth on me. I was hugely pissed with the realization that these two assholes had dosed me with something – one of those date Ra*e drugs!

The Smith boy took hold of his cock, stroking it as he approached me, grinning that shit-eating grin he always had when he was about to get his rocks off. I felt my hips flex in anticipation – my need to orgasm was great and I had some fond memories of the two of us losing our virginities to each other. My desire to orgasm however was overridden by my anger and I shifted my leg and kicked the asshole in the balls as hard as I could!

As the Smith boy dropped to the floor, curling up as he cupped his testicles, moaning softly, I awkwardly sat up, my head spinning as I moved, feeling as if I was moving through molasses. I stood unsteadily on my feet and came face to face with Dana – a stunned expression warring with one of anger on her face. She was naked as well, her face glistening with my juices, her apple sized breasts, firm and attractive in a way I never considered before.

"You dumb bitch," I hissed, my voice sounding as if it was underwater. "If you'd fucking asked, I would've said yes!" As she mouthed words, lost in the swirl that was my mind, I threw a punch at her – my fist moving in what seemed like slow motion, but which she seemed to stand still for – blood spurting from her nose as my knuckles slammed into her face. She sort of floated down onto her butt, looking shocked as she brought hands up to her nose.

I tugged my dress down to cover my slick and quivering pussy, glancing around in vain for my panties. "Forget you know me, you fucking twat and tell 'loverboy' here," I said, rearing back and kicking the Smith boy in the balls again, "that he better start running if he sees me coming. Next time, I'll use Daddy's gun and blow his nuts off!"

Still dizzy, despite my fury doing some good in clearing my head, I staggered out of the room, amazed I could keep my balance on high heels. I made it downstairs – feeling as if everyone was staring at me – and as I struggled to pull on my coat and spied my reflection in the hallway mirror, I suppose they might have been. I looked like some sluttish whore trolling for business – my hair messed up and nipples obviously erect against the material of my dress.

Outside, the frigid air did much to wake me up, but it was still a long and slow drive home as my head continued to fuzz out and I had to resist again and again the urge to put a hand between my legs and finger myself to that long denied orgasm. To this day, I haven't a clue as to what they'd dosed me with, but it left me feeling both spaced and horny! I stopped twice, pulling over to the curb to roll down the window and clear my head – unable to resist caressing my breast, teasing my swollen nipples until the lights of a passing care roused me back to alertness and resume my journey home.

It was just passed midnight when I pulled into the drive. I sat for a few minutes, preparing myself in case Mom and Dad were still up and started in on questions. As I had done many times in my teenage years, I very quietly unlocked the front door and tried to silently open and close the door. My head was still spinning as I did so. I shucked off my winter coat and draped it over a chair in the hall and then slipped out of my heels. Slowly I padded down the hallway, freezing in place as I reached the banister and heard my parents talking in the living room.

I glanced that way and could see Dad with his back to me, sitting in his lounger – Perry and Bing playing on the stereo. Mom was standing at his side, rubbing the back of his neck and being sympathetic...sort of. "You might as well face facts, honey. She's all grown up now – you're more likely to get a blow job from Erica than to get her to be your little girl. It would be a hell of a lot better treat than milk and cookies!"

My eyes went wide at Mom's lewd remark even as Daddy made a sort of guffaw laugh. I shouldn't have been surprised. Mom was always saying things like that – semi-naughty, risqué humor that seemed to be all that was left of her libido. I felt a shiver run the length of my body, emanating outward from my still aroused pussy. Even the ribald humor of my mother tickled the fancy of my drugged sex drive.

Daddy let out another long suffering sigh and then shifted the focus of his conversation. "Speaking of blow jobs, it is Christmas, Evvie..." He let the rest go unsaid.

Mom gave a sigh of her own. "We've been over that, John. I'm done with all that. I'm not going to pretend I enjoy it, even for your sake. Get on the computer and watch some porn and jack off if you want...or ask your grown up daughter for a blowjob when she gets home. You've got a better shot at it with Erica than me."

Daddy laughed again and I started to giggle, but clamped a hand over my mouth before any sounds got out...or so I hoped. I quickly and quietly slipped up the stairs and crept into my bedroom. I collapsed onto the bed – not bothering to undress as the room began to whirl around me. I tried to keep my mind off the swirlies, trying to make sense of Mom's jokes. Honestly, I can't believe what comes out of her mouth sometimes.

The dizziness began to subside, but my horniness seemed to increase and before too long, I slipped hands under my dress to finger and tease my sopping wet cunt as Mom's joking words kept echoing through my head. I suppose like all girls, I've fantasized a bit about my father at one point or another, but nothing like I was dealing with now. My hips bucked upward to meet the downward thrust of fingers invading my slick and sensitive flesh growing more intense with each moment that I pictured myself kneeling in front of Daddy, his cock in my hand and in my mouth.

Unlike Mom, I've derived a lot of enjoyment and satisfaction from sucking cock. I get off on the happy expressions I can put on a man's face and I adore the sensation of that hard, yet soft flesh in my mouth, pulsing under the attention of my tongue. It took a bit of getting used to, but I even enjoy eating cum – astonished to find that no two men taste exactly alike. And I love the fact that once I've made a man cum, I can usually get him hard again and the fuck that follows is usually long and wonderful. My fantasies expanded and I imagined Daddy slipping into my room, naked and hard and me silently spreading my legs while he climbed between my thighs and...

Again, I felt myself nearing climax, but there was a sudden knock at the door and then it opened and Mom came in, just missing me pulling three juice covered fingers from my pussy. I stifled a frustrated moan and squeaked out, "Mom?"

Mom stood in the doorway, something between a frown and an amused smile on her face as she stared down at me. Her brief glance at my crotch triggered a reflex in me to flip down what little of my dress covered my aroused pussy and the smile nearly won out. "I didn't hear you come in, Erica. You're home early – everything all right?"

Part of me wanted to start crying and tell Mommy about the mean kids – Dana and the Smith boy, but part of me hated the thought of an "I told you so," from a parent and I shook my head. "It was boring and I didn't feel all that well and you're right. Dana is different now. I don't think we'll be spending any more time together."

Mom nodded and crossed the room to my bed, motherly concern now on her face. "Are you sick, sweetie? You look a little flushed," she said, reaching out to put the back of her hand against my face. She looked down and I'm sure she could see not only my face, but the sexual flush across my mostly bared chest and no doubt the blood engorged nipples that were trying to poke through my dress and still throbbing at the imagined image of Daddy about to fuck me. "You feel a little feverish, Erica. I hope you're not coming down with something."

I nodded and took a deep breath. "I'm sure I'm alright, Mom. Nothing a good night's sleep won't cure."

Mom nodded, doubt written across her face. "Okay, sweetie." She leaned down and kissed my forehead. As she walked back towards the door, she glanced back and said, "I'm going to bed. Merry Christmas." She started to shut the door and paused and looked back in the room. "If you feel up to it, go down and tell your father, Merry Christmas. If you want, there are some fresh sugar cookies in the kitchen – you might give your daddy a treat. He could sure use some cheering up." She smiled then and I tried not to shiver as I think we were both thinking the same thing about her earlier blow job remarks.

Trying not to let her hear the husky catch in my breath, I nodded and said, "I'll got down on – go downstairs to Daddy in a little bit." If Mom picked up on my little Freudian slip, she didn't give any sign, but I felt my entire body turn bright red as she shut the door.

My need to orgasm became overwhelming – whether it was the drugs or Mom's joking comments, I felt as aroused as I ever had. As I heard the muted closing of my parents' bedroom door, I plunged my fingers back into my cunt and furiously masturbated, thrusting my hips upward to meet the busy thrusts of my fingers.

Incredible images of Daddy naked with an immense erection took up root in my mind alongside a nymphomaniac version of me fucking and sucking and pleasuring my father. It suddenly dawned on me that Daddy was really a sexy guy in a "Father Knows Best" kind of way. Standing right around six feet tall with my black hair going a bit gray and still slender – no significant middle aged paunch, I saw Daddy in a new light and as I imagined his strong, naked body atop mine, his cock about to thrust into my pussy, saying, "Merry Christmas, baby girl," I exploded into an intense orgasm that had me damn near levitating off the sheets – one hand busy squirming fingers inside my throbbing cunt and the other clawing at my breast, fingernails dragging across my aroused nipple.

When I began to come down from my climax, I wiped my face, astounded to feel my cheeks wet with tears and despite having a delicious orgasm, I sensed from the fire between my legs that my need...my hunger for sex had only increased. The thought of going to my father and sucking his cock and fucking his brains out was stronger now and my fingers continued to caress my slick labia as I imagined having the nerve to do it.

Part of me argued that I was still high or stoned on whatever Dana and the Smith boy had dosed me with, but there was a part of me that understood that this was a lot longer in coming – that I had known this moment could happen since the moment I first gave Daddy a hard-on. It didn't really matter – both of us wanted the same thing. I had a moment of epiphany and said aloud for the first time in my life, "I want to fuck my Daddy!" It sounded shocking, but in a good way – as if I was about to break all the rules and that sinning like this would feel really good!

I jumped out of bed, my legs still shaky, but I felt determined somehow to satisfy the fiery hunger between my legs and to make my Daddy happy. I wriggled out of my dress and stood before the full length mirror hanging on my closet door. I grinned at the slut peering back at me. My hair was a wreck, but I think it looked good in that tumbled out of bed way. I was tempted to go downstairs stark naked, but it didn't seem somehow, Christmasy enough.

I opened up a bureau drawer and began pulling out nightgowns, finally pausing when I had a filmy little baby-doll negligee in my hands. It was fire-engine red and see-through. It came with matching bra and panties, but I decided it would work better without them. I slipped them on and looked at myself in the mirror again.

"Meow!" I said aloud – impressed with myself. My breasts were barely obscured by the material, my aureoles and nipples evident if one took a good look – my hairless pussy less so. I turned around and bent over and flashed my twat. I then looked into the mound of shoes in my closet and came up with some nearly matching red high heels and nodded happily when I gazed at myself in the mirror. They made my legs really stand out and even seemed to make the almost crotch high hem of the negligee seem even shorter. Almost perfect, I though, but lacking something.

I scanned the room, feeling my pussy getting wetter by the moment to the point of smelling my own arousal. I spotted my Santa hat on my old writing desk. Putting it on in front of the mirror, I knew I had a winner. "Santa himself would want to fuck this!" I said to myself, moving this way and that.

I slipped quietly out the bedroom door and crept downstairs after pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs – taking a deep breath and asking myself was I really ready to seduce my father. I was nervous, even scared, but my answer to myself was still a resounding yes – I wanted my Daddy something awful.

Daddy's Christmas music was playing and I could see him still in his lounger, reading. I went the other way, slipping into the kitchen and preparing a plate of cookies and a big glass of milk. I carried it to the living room, again pausing in the doorway and working up the nerve to actually walk inside. My nipples were so hard they hurt and my cunt was dripping wet – I could feel warm little trickles of pussy juice running down my thighs. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Daddy jumped a little when I said breathily, "Merry Christmas, Daddy," and set the milk and cookies down on the little side table next to his lounger. I leaned down as I did so, offering Daddy a very clear view of my breasts, pushing my breasts together with my arms to create a long valley of cleavage.

"Erica! Um...I didn't hear you come in." Daddy's momentary shock didn't wear off, but rather evolved as he took in my naughty little Christmas nightie. I fought down an excited shiver as I felt his eyes roaming over me.

"I've been home awhile, Daddy," I said, moving in to kiss him on the cheek, my breasts brushing against his arm. "I just want to say I'm sorry and that from now on, I plan to spend every moment of Christmas I can with my daddy!" I looked at him with an expression that I hope expressed the love that was in my heart. Slowly, allowing him to get as good a look at me as possible, I sashayed over to his old stereo, high heels clicking provocatively on the wood floor and bent over to go through the albums on a shelf – offering my father a wonderful glimpse of my bare ass cheeks and my swollen labia.

I picked out one of Daddy's favorite old Christmas albums – full of those old crooners who the more I thought about it, sounded smooth and sexy, and put it on the turntable. I turned and posed for Daddy – giving him a long look at his scantily clad daughter – gratified that there was an immediate response in his pants. I licked my lips as I watched the tent grow in his khaki slacks. Daddy's face was bright red as he brought the lounger from a leaned back position to upright.

I slowly walked back to him – feeling the sexual tension escalate in moments as neither of us said anything. Daddy brought his recliner to an upright position, his mouth open in shock, maybe awe at the sight of me sauntering up to him, an evil grin on my face with even my Santa hat cocked at a sexy angle. I walked right up to him, making him open his legs a bit to make way for me – our knees brushing against each other before I slowly knelt between his thighs.

"I was a bad girl, Daddy, leaving you alone tonight, but I promise I'll make it up to you somehow," I said in a husky voice, placing my hands atop his knees and leaning forward, knowing he could look down the front of my negligee for an almost complete view of my breasts.

"Erica..." Daddy managed to say. "Honey, Mom's gone to bed and I was just about to head that way too." His eyes boggled in his head as he tried to take in every inch of my scantily clad body that he could. ""It's getting late and you should go to, um..." Daddy licked his lips like a man dying of thirst being shown a ice cold bottle of beer and somehow he never managed to complete his train of thought.

"I brought Santa's milk and cookies, Daddy, but I was thinking maybe you wanted something else?" As I spoke, I slid my hands up his thighs, stopping when my right hand covered the long bulge in his slacks. I looked up at him and in my best "Daddy's little girl wants something" voice said, "Does Daddy have a nice big candy cane in his pants? Your little girl's been wanting something big and sweet to suck on!" I gave the bulge a gentle squeeze.

"Oh, God – sweetheart – you shouldn't...your mother...oh my god." Daddy mumbled, his breath growing ragged.

I smiled up at Daddy, giving him a loving stare with my dark brown eyes as my hands moved to undo his belt and pants. "I love you, Daddy and you love me and you've given me so many good Christmas memories, I think it's time you had one too!" My father appeared suddenly helpless, almost like a little boy letting his mother undress him. I undid his trousers and then pulled them and his shorts down, urging him with my hands to rise up so I could tug his pants down to his ankles. I gave a little coo of delight as my father's cock, big, long and proudly erect waved in the open air.

Wrapping my hand around Daddy's thick penis, I raised up a little and said, "I've got all I want for Christmas, now!" before taking Daddy into my mouth, closing my lips around the swollen head and lashing it hungrily with my tongue – never taking my eyes from Daddy's face as I began to suck his dick.

As Chestnuts were roasting on the stereo, I began fondling Daddy's nuts as I sucked and licked his cock, slowly taking more and more of him into my mouth. The look of almost unbelieving terror on Daddy's face softened into a loving, disbelieving smile as I loved up my father's cock. "Oh, Erica," he sighed, reaching out to stroke my dark hair, fingers molding to my head to encourage the up and down movement of my lips on his shaft. Slightly bitter precum almost poured from his cock, my tongue smearing it merrily around the crown of his swollen, pulsating penis.

I happily threw myself into making it the blowjob of Daddy's life – using my tongue to sing my love for him, my lips worshipping the source of my very existence, my entire mouth devoted to pleasuring my wonderful father. I sucked and licked and licked and sucked, feeling torrents of joy wash over me with every groan and gasp and smile that I evoked from my daddy. My pussy was ablaze with need and lust – I could smell myself like some animal in heat – juices raining from my cunt to splatter on my thighs and on the carpet below me.

Daddy's hand on my head tightened its grip, fingers twisting in my long tresses and he groaned, "Erica...Daddy's cumming..." and then an explosion of semen detonated in my mouth as a great wad of Daddy's spunk shot between my tightly clamped lips and it took every bit of skill I had to not choke.

Daddy tasted so different from all the younger men I'd sucked – more smoky and salty, stronger, but so delicious. I sucked furiously, eager to have him try and drown me in his semen. I don't think Daddy jacked off much because there it was a massive load – shot after shot of searing hot sperm – me grunting and groaning my approval and Dad almost sobbing with the pleasure of experiencing his little girl sucking him and swallowing his seed. His hands scrabbled about against the faux leather of his lounger as he squirmed while I tongued and sucked his wonderful cock.

Too soon for me did the flood of semen ebb and fade, but I kept sucking and tonguing his cock, urging it by sheer will to stay erect. Daddy groaned and wiggled against me, gasping, "Too much, baby – Oh God – too sweet – gotta stop now, Erica. Daddy needs to stop!"

As I continued to suck Daddy, I shook my head no, knowing full well how sweetly torturous it felt for my father – his sensitive flesh now registering intense pleasure that bordered on pain, but I wanted more. I wanted – no, needed my Daddy stiff and erect. When I felt his cock begin to flag, I redoubled my efforts and lavished Daddy's cock with every sweet and sinful sensation I could think of to keep him hard, pausing only once in my tonguing and sucking to let him slip from my lips as I said in my best 'little girl pouting voice,' "Stay hard for me, Daddy! I need more of your cum!"

Maybe it was the work of my dancing tongue and hungry mouth. Maybe it was my naughty words. Maybe it was my eyes which never broke contact with my Daddy's face. Maybe it was all those put together, but whatever it was – it worked! Daddy's cock regained its full vigor and was proudly erect!

I let him slip from my mouth again, drool and remnants of his semen dripping from my lips. My pussy was a raging inferno of need and my heart was pounding in my chest. My breath came in ragged bursts. My mouth moved silently, the words, "Fuck me, Daddy," not sufficing for my desires. With a carnal snarl, I leapt up, climbing into Daddy's lap – our arms wrapping around each other as he pulled me to him, our bodies and lips coming together. I felt my Santa hat tumble away as I kissed my Daddy as I had never done before, my tongue spearing into his open mouth only to be greeted by his lusty tongue – our flesh appendages slipping against each other, tasting each other in a way that twelve hours ago I could never have imagined.

The force of my leap into his lap knocked the chair and us into a reclining position. I let my legs, straddling his lap, stretch out behind us, sliding my body down slightly until I felt my father's cock brushing along my left inner thigh. I shifted my hips slightly and felt my labia embrace the long, thick length of Daddy's penis. Daddy gasped into my mouth as he felt his cock being kissed by his daughter's wet and aroused cunt.

He broke that first, wonderful and sinful kiss and looking into my face, moaned, "Oh, Erica, my little girl – I love you, sweetheart."

I felt tears of joy and desire on my cheeks and I finally found the words I needed to say, "I love you too, Daddy! Please, Daddy...fuck me?" Out of sheer instinct, I rolled my hips just enough and then as my father and I gazed awestruck into each other's eyes, I felt the head of his cock enter my wet, clasping opening and we simultaneously came together – thickness sliding slowly inside me – Daddy cock driving into Daughter pussy, deeper and deeper and then I cried out, "YES, I LOVE MY DADDY!"

Daddy's mouth was on mine, squelching out my cries of carnal delight, our tongues performing a dance of love as my father's cock buried itself inside me to the hilt – wiry pubic hairs scratching deliciously against my bald mound. We both became a boiling cauldron of incestuous lust, kissing passionately as I wiggled my hips in ecstasy, impaled by Daddy's cock. My hands tore violently at his sweater vest and his old dress shirt until I could feel naked flesh, his chest hair running through my fingers, little hard pebble-like nipples and his heart beating in time with mine.​