I looked over at my dad, who was now settled back into his recliner, the blue blanket conspicuously draped over his lap. The movie on the screen was a blur, the dialogue a distant murmur. My attention was entirely focused on him, a knot of curiosity tightening in my stomach. It wasn’t just the fact that he’d left my mom in the bedroom after their usual post-intimacy retreat. It was the way he’d emerged, a subtle shift in his demeanor that I, his ever-observant daughter, couldn’t ignore.
His usual easy confidence seemed replaced by a peculiar restlessness. He’d flitted around the living room, adjusting the blinds, straightening picture frames, his movements just a fraction too quick, too anxious. Now, sitting there, he kept his gaze fixed on the television, yet I could sense his awareness of me, a subtle tension radiating from him.
My dad wasn’t a man who was easily flustered. He was my rock, the steady presence in my life. Seeing him like this, a ripple of unease went through me. My eyes drifted over him, an involuntary assessment. He was still handsome, of course. The silver at his temples only added to the distinguished look. His shoulders were broad beneath his slightly worn, comfortable sweater, and his hands, usually so capable, now lay still on the armrests, a hint of tremor in his fingers. He was wearing his usual dark sweatpants, the fabric smooth and unremarkable, but my gaze, drawn by an instinct I couldn’t quite explain, lingered on his lap, on the outline that the blanket provocatively hid.
“What’s wrong?” I finally managed to ask, my voice softer than I intended.
He opened his eyes, and the sight of them—glassy, with a strange, unfocused intensity—made my breath catch. He looked… different. Almost flushed, but not entirely. His gaze met mine for a fleeting second before skittering away, his body shifting uncomfortably in the chair. He squirmed, a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, yet it screamed of an internal struggle. Then, he asked, “Can you throw me the blanket from the back of the couch?”
I blinked, taken aback by the request. It seemed so mundane, so out of place with the disquiet I felt emanating from him. Still, I complied, grabbing the soft, blue throw and tossing it his way. It landed partially on his leg, the one closest to me. He snatched it, pulling it over his lap with a swiftness that seemed almost urgent, letting the edges spill over the armrests, creating a more substantial barrier between us, between the world and whatever was happening with him. He closed his eyes again, leaning back, a sigh escaping him that sounded less like relief and more like resignation.
“Daddy?” I called again, my voice a little more insistent this time. When he opened his eyes and looked at me, I pressed, “What’s wrong?”
He sighed again, a heavier sound this time, and his gaze drifted away once more. The nervousness was palpable now, a tangible thing in the air between us. He had never acted this way around me. Never. Finally, after a long, drawn-out pause, he spoke, his voice low and almost sheepish. “Uh, Claire, this is embarrassing. I took a pill tonight.”
I frowned, trying to process his words. A pill? What kind of pill? My mind, leaping to conclusions with a speed that startled me, landed on the most outlandish possibility. Ecstasy? The thought sent a bizarre jolt through me, and my eyes, against my will, dropped to his lap, to the blanket that now concealed everything. What could ecstasy have to do with… that? It seemed absurd, and yet, the way his cheeks seemed faintly flushed, the unusual restlessness, and the comment about his earlier frisky behavior towards Mom… it all began to coalesce into a very different picture.
“Wait,” I said, sitting up straighter, a dawning realization making my mind spin. When he glanced at me, I blurted out, “You took… a Viagra??”
He didn’t meet my eyes. “Something like that,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
My frown deepened. “What does that mean?” I pressed, my curiosity now a burning fire. “Something like… what?”
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words, the movie forgotten, the world narrowed to the space between us and the secrets held within that blue blanket.
His head snapped up, revealing cheeks now flushed a deeper crimson. A nervous swallow preceded his hushed words, barely audible to my ears. “It’s… it’s not Viagra,” he stammered, his voice a mere whisper. “It’s a new medication. Supposedly much more effective than Viagra.”
I can’t believe my dad took a freaking Viagra! Did that mean he’s been having trouble with erections for my mom lately? Or did they just want to try it out for kicks? Hold on. He said it was way better than Viagra? “Uh, better? Than Viagra? As in, how so?” I heard myself asking, extremely curious. I realized I was now sitting on the very edge of the couch.
My father shifted uneasily in his seat, his eyes avoiding mine as we spoke of this delicate matter. Throughout my life, I had always considered myself a true daddy’s girl, believing we shared an unbreakable bond. Our relationship had been one of utmost trust and affection, or so I thought. Steadying my nerves, I bit my lower lip and waited with bated breath for his response, silently praying he would give me the answers I so desperately sought.
Finally, Dad said softly, “I don’t know. It’s supposed to make it last longer. Like, a lot longer.” He paused, as if catching his breath. Then he added, “Plus, it… works on its own. Way better than Viagra.” Embarrassed, he continued, “But damn it Claire, I shouldn’t be talking to you about my… well you know. I just wish your mom was awake right now.”
“What, by itself?” I asked, perplexed. How else was it supposed to function? I had never been intimate with someone who took Viagra or a similar tablet before.
“I don’t need to touch… you know… for it to work,” Dad said, looking more embarrassed than I’d ever seen him. His face was beet red.
I let out a low whistle. “Oh boy,” I said under my breath. I had never really contemplated my own father’s… anatomy before. The mental image made me queasy.
“Yeah,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s, uh, pretty powerful stuff.”
I remained perched on the edge of the couch, leaning back to take in the scene. My gaze kept flicking to my dad, a knot of curiosity and concern tightening in my stomach. He appeared distinctly unsettled, his posture suggesting discomfort. Suddenly, a thought surfaced, and the words tumbled out before I could rein them in.
“Wait… are you… feeling okay? Dad?” My eyes widened, and I couldn’t resist another peek in his direction, though the blanket still obscured everything. Then, it clicked. Even before he confirmed it, I knew the answer. “Wait… you are hard aren’t you.” I blushed.
My dad cleared his throat, and I was sure his cheeks couldn’t deepen in color, yet they flushed an even more intense crimson. He gave a slow nod, a quiet “Very” escaping his lips. I shifted uncomfortably, leaning forward with a subtle adjustment of my position, my thighs pressing together.
A sudden warmth spread through me, but my attention was entirely captured by his reaction. “Is it… uncomfortable?” I found myself asking, my voice a little hesitant. “You know, down there?” He gave a slight shrug, his gaze flicking towards me. “Uh, yeah. A little,” he admitted.
I furrowed my brows, feeling uneasy at the sight of my father’s discomfort. I couldn’t bear to see him like this. What could he do? What could I do? I was just a nineteen-year-old girl, after all. Sure, I had lost my virginity, but I had never encountered anything like this. The boys I had been with got aroused without any assistance. Suddenly, an idea struck me, and I hesitantly voiced it.
“Have you tried… I can’t believe I’m suggesting this, but… Masturbating?” I asked, feeling bold yet uncertain.
He met my gaze, and for a moment, I feared he wouldn’t respond. Then, a sigh escaped him, as if a part of him deflated, and he whispered, “A little. It feels… strange, discussing my… with you.”
“Don’t feel that way. I want to help, Dad. So, it didn’t work?” I prompted, questioning my own forwardness internally. The reason was simple: I wanted to help him, somehow. The ‘how’ remained elusive, but the desire was strong. Perhaps I could offer some kind of support, a way to ease his you know… burden.
“I… I don’t know, Claire. Uh, maybe I need to do it longer. But this just feels strange to me. And I didn’t want to… with your mom asleep. I… I’ve never… I am so damn horny…” He cleared his throat, lowering his gaze to his lap. Then he muttered, almost inaudibly, “I’ve never been hard this long before. We shouldn’t be discussing my…” He hesitated, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I am your dad.”
“Oh dad, you brought it up,” I said, my voice filled with sympathy for him. The image of him in that state made me feel a mix of emotions, but I wanted to comfort him. I asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Uh, no, no sweetie,” he said, glancing at me before quickly averting his eyes. The tension between us was palpable, but I could see the vulnerability in his expression.
I wasn’t sure if his gaze had lingered on my chest, but when I glanced down, my casual pink dress seemed to confirm my unease. It was designed as a two-piece, a shirt and skirt, but was actually a single garment. The V-neck top dipped low, stopping at the base of my chest and leaving a significant expanse of skin exposed between my breasts and across my shoulders. A sudden wave of self-consciousness washed over me.
“Are you absolutely sure?” I asked, genuinely wanting to help. Perhaps a meal was all he needed. “Not unless you want to help get me off,” he chuckled, as if it were the height of wit. “But that’ll never happen, you’re my girl.”
“Okay, Dad,” I replied, my voice catching as the words registered. A sudden realization hit me, and I froze. His head snapped around, his jaw slack with shock.
My dad stared at me for what felt like ages, then quickly looked away. He cleared his throat and mumbled, “Uh, no.”
We sat there in silence for a bit. He looked super awkward, like he couldn’t get comfortable. Honestly, I was feeling pretty wiggly myself. Finally, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. “Daddy?” I whispered. When he looked over, I asked, “Wanna try me?” Then I held my breath, totally mortified I’d just asked if he wanted me to… help him out.
“Try what?” he asked, but I knew he was just buying time.
Rolling my eyes, I leaned in a little and dropped my voice. “I can give you a hand job. You know, wank you off a bit while Mom’s asleep.” My face felt like it was on fire the second those words left my mouth.
“CLAIRE!” he practically shouted my name. “You can’t do that.”
I leaned back, arms crossed, feeling pretty annoyed. “What, Dad?” I asked, trying not to sound too sulky. I fiddled with my lap, “Seriously, I don’t mind.” He didn’t say anything, so I peeked over at him. He was just staring down at the blanket on his legs. Then I said, really quietly, “It kinda feels wrong to just leave it… like that.” I kept my eyes glued to the blanket, you know, hoping he’d shift just enough so I could see what was going on.
“Uhh,” was all he managed. Then we just sat there, totally silent, for what felt like ages.
I couldn’t stand it anymore. Leaning forward again, I tried to sound super chill. “We could, like, do it under the blanket or something,” I whispered. “I… I don’t even have to look.”
He didn’t answer. Just kept staring at his pants. Finally, he looked up at me and asked, really softly, “You’re serious?”
I shrugged and kind of squeezed my thighs together. This whole conversation was making me feel really weird. “Why not?” I asked.
Another half-minute ticked by, and then my dad gave this quick little nod. “Okay,” he said, sounding like he wasn’t thrilled but was going along with it.
My face went numb as the blood drained out when I realized what I’d just offered. I glanced at my dad, and his expression gave me a small boost of courage. Before I could lose it, I slid off the couch and scooted over to his chair.
“You gonna make room for me in your chair?” I asked, feeling surprisingly bold. Maybe it was the crazy, erotic thing we were about to do.
He moved over, so I climbed into the chair and sat beside him. I could hear his ragged breathing, and he seemed really uncomfortable. I leaned against his shoulder, trying to put him at ease.
I took a deep breath and reached under the blanket, finding his stomach. He flinched at my touch, so I moved my hand down until I reached the waist of his sweats. I looked at him and whispered, “Are you gonna take your sweats off?”
He nodded, lifting his butt as he pulled them down. I heard them land on the floor, and suddenly, my dad was completely naked from the waist down, sitting beside me covered only by a blanket.
I looked up at his face, and neither of us said a word. I decided that was a good thing. If he was going to stop me, that would have been his chance. I looked away and moved my hand down onto his upper pelvis. He flinched again at my touch, but I kept going.
I felt the heat coming from his penis, and it was so much hotter than I expected. And he was hard. Oh god, was he hard! I wrapped my fingers around his shaft, and it felt so taut and soft at the same time. I started to stroke his throbbing cock, and it was intense.
The quiet moans reached my ears, and I knew I was doing something right. As I continued to glide my hand up and down his shaft, I couldn’t help but notice the look of pure bliss on his face. The discomfort from earlier was long gone, replaced by a look of ecstasy. His mouth was slightly open, and he was breathing heavily.
I bit my tongue, focusing on the task at hand – my daddy’s cock. The word echoed in my mind, and I felt a surge of excitement. I had never used the word out loud or even in my own thoughts before, but it seemed fitting now. As I stroked him, I could hear him moaning quietly beside me.
My arm was draped over his body, hidden beneath the blanket, but I didn’t need to see what I was doing to know it was working. His body was shaking, and his muscles began to tighten. I focused all my attention on him, stroking his penis with increasing speed. The palm of my hand tingled with each glide, sending a thrill through me.
As I continued, I found it difficult to differentiate between our breathing. Why was this turning me on so much? I shifted slightly, lifting one leg over his. I didn’t slow my stroking, enjoying the feel of his soft, taut skin beneath my fingers.
Dad started to shake, but I didn’t let up, continuing my rhythmic strokes. His skin was getting wet, and I realized he was close to climax. Suddenly, I heard him breathing rapidly, heavily. “Ahh fuck… Huhh huh huh HUHhh huhh huHHhh HHUUHhhh huh huh huh huhhh huhhhh HuhhhHHHH,” he moaned as I sped up my strokes.
I could feel his body tense up, and I knew he was getting close. I started going faster, and soon he let out a loud groan and his body convulsed beneath me. I slowed down, feeling the warmth of his release against my hand. I had just given my daddy the most intimate pleasure, and it was an experience I’d never forget.
And then he was done. His body relaxed beside me, and I slowly stopped stroking, still holding onto his shaft. It twitched between my fingers for several minutes. We lay there in quiet silence, and I listened to his breathing. Ahh, I hoped that was it for his boner. I hoped that my hand job had helped relieve the uncomfortable tension he had been experiencing.
Fingers still wrapped around his shaft, I smiled in satisfaction as I heard him continue to moan softly. I closed my eyes, nestling a little closer to him while we sat there in silence. My body was filled with a tingling warmth from head to toe. I wanted to grind my crotch against him and try to get myself off, but I refrained. After a few minutes, I started to drift off, my hand still wet from his sperm.
Some time later, I awoke. My dad was sleeping next to me, and I still had my head leaning against his shoulder. With a start, I realized I also still had my fingers wrapped around his penis. Oh no. Yanking my hand away, my father began to stir. When his eyes fluttered open, he glanced at me, then down at his own lap, and finally back at my face again.
“You’re still hard,” I whispered, my face just a few inches away from his.
He sighed, closing his eyes slowly. Then he leaned his head back and said softly, “I know.
We sat in silence for a minute and then, biting my lip with determination, I reached my hand forward and took hold of his penis once more.
“Hey!” he cried out, tilting his head forward and looking at me, wide-eyed.
“What?” I asked as I started to stroke him. “You said I could do this.” It was as if some unknown force had a hold of me, but I barely gave it a second thought. My father’s penis tickled my skin as the palm of my hand started gliding down its length.
He shook his head slightly, opening his mouth to protest. I knew he was going to tell me to stop, that once was enough. He was going to say this isn’t proper, that a daughter should not be “helping” her dad like this. I knew he was going to grab my hand and yank it away from his cock. I knew all of that in a single heartbeat. So I did the one thing I knew would stop him in his tracks and make him forget all about offering any resistance.
I dove my head underneath the blanket and started blowing him.
In all of about three quarters of a second, I had half of his tip sucked just past my lips. He reacted almost instantly, grunting. And then, for several heartbeats, he was silent. I used that time wisely, tickling my way around the head of his penis with my tongue, suckling while I continued to stroke him just beneath my lips.
Finally, his protest showed up, but it was weak. “Jesus, Claire!” was all he said. Too late, daddy. I was already pushing my head down, feeling his penis move further into my mouth. The way my head was angled, his foreskin ran along the roof of my mouth, tickling. By the time I had half his length in my mouth, he was breathing hard and I knew I had won the battle.
I had only given four blowjobs in my life. But the last two told me I mine were the best blowjobs they had ever had. And so, I tried to muster up every ounce of skill I could find from my limited experience, applying every lick of it–literally–to my father’s penis. Round and round I twisted my hand while stroking the base, and at the same time I kept adjusting the pressure of my lips. Loose while I pushed myself down his shaft, then firm as I rose to the tip. Loose them firm, I moved my head up and down, enjoying the sensation of his cock filling my mouth over and over. The unspoken protests in my father’s head had clearly dissipated, replaced by soft whimpers and gasping moans every few seconds.
Each moan I heard from him was a lesson for me as I mapped out his penis, seeking to know his pleasure points like the back of my hand. Gradually, as I worked myself deeper into the fantasy of what was happening, I removed my hand from the base of his cock. With the governor removed, my mouth was free to go as deep as I wanted. I had never taken a penis further than halfway in before, but for some reason, as I worked my father’s erection right there in our living room, I desperately wanted to.
And so, I quickly found myself riding his beast of a boner with my lips stretched tautly around it. My tongue swirled around the sides, tickling along the bottom. Changing it up, I started squeezing my lips on the way down, relaxing my mouth’s grip on the way up. Each time I reached the tip, I gently compressed my lips as I stroked my way back down as far as I could go. The first time I felt my daddy’s cock brush against the back of my throat, I almost started coughing. It did make me swallow involuntarily, several times in a row, and I slowed down my movement until I had myself back under control.
I never ran out of saliva with my father like I had with the earlier boys I had blown. I’m not entirely sure why. Something about what I was doing gave me such a thrill, it was certainly bringing out a host of feminine fluids from within me. My thighs were damp, too. God this was hot! I started making noises while I raised and lowered my head, whimpering around my daddy’s erection. The skin of his penis tickled along every side of my mouth. Sometimes I tilted my head to the side, making it press my cheek so it bulged out. Other times I tilted my head forward so his erection rubbed along my tongue instead. After a few minutes, I was gently gyrating my head with each thrust, prodding at all the little spots of sensitivity I had learned along the way–
Something hot streamed against the back of my throat, making me gag. Before I could even react, it happened again. My daddy was cumming! Jesus, I was so into it, I hadn’t even heard his moaning that would announce his climax! His sperm was extremely bitter. Lifting my head slightly, I reached my hand to the base of his shaft and started stroking him again, while keeping my lips wrapped around the head of his penis. I pumped him with my hand, pulling several thick streams of ejaculate into my mouth.
My dad’s body shuddered and then a final squirt of cum spewed in my mouth. I slowed my stroking and continued sucking the head of his penis, making sure nothing else was in there. Finally, satisfied I had drained him, I lifted my head up and felt his penis slip out from between my lips. The second I did that, his cum started drooling over the edge of my lower lip and down onto my chin. Opening my mouth wider, I let the rest of it pour out, coating the tip of his penis. I watched as it spilled lazily down his shaft, pooling at its base. My eyes were wide and staring, examining his penis carefully. I hadn’t paid much attention to how it looked before I had begun blowing him. But now I couldn’t pry myself away from it. It was thick and taut, with a few bluish veins running down either side. The tip looked stretched to the limit, shiny with spit and cum.
“Why did you do that, Claire?” my dad asked softly.
Slowly, I pulled my head out from under the blanket as I said, “I dunno. I wanted to.” Then I grinned at him.
My dad’s eyes suddenly opened wide and then he was fumbling with his shirt. For a second, I thought he was about to take it off, but that didn’t make any sense. He leaned forward with it clutched I his hands, lifting it toward my face where he started wiping around my lips. “It got all over you,” he said, sounding horrified.
I swatted his hand away, laughing. “It’s not like I’ve never had cum on my face before, daddy,” I said. But the second the words were out of my mouth, I froze. That was probably way too casual a statement about something so sexual coming from his own daughter. Fortunately, he just shook his head, seeming to let it pass. I guess all things considered, it was the least of his concerns at the moment.
My dad groaned, closing his eyes and leaning back against the couch. I watched him curiously, wondering if he was going to say anything else. Finally, he whispered, “That was amazing, though.”
The blush that erupted on my face was unexpected. I had never been so happy to hear praise from my dad. He often told me about how proud he was about various things I had done. But the feeling I got those times paled in comparison to this one. There was a certain something special about being complimented over the quality of a blowjob. By my father, no less. It was a praise I never in a million years would have imagined hearing.
Glancing down, I realized the blanket was no longer covering me or my daddy’s penis. I must have tossed it aside when I pulled my head out from underneath. As I stared, I realized two things with clarity.
First, my daddy was still incredibly hard. And second, I was incredibly horny.
“You’re still hard,” I heard myself breathe out. “Wow… just, wow daddy.”
“I know,” he said, sounding pained. He was staring down at his penis along with me.
Frowning down at it, I reached a hand toward it as I asked, “Is it… sensitive?” Then I started stroking it a little. The gooey mass of spunk at the base clung to the side of my hand and started leaving little sticky streaks of pearly white cream up the shaft while I stroked him.
His only response was to groan again, head lolling backward. That only encouraged me. Adding my other hand, I spent the next ten minutes quietly working his shaft, until his cum was almost completely gone, absorbed into his skin. His breathing had gradually gotten louder and louder as I stroked him for the third time that night. Whatever that pill was, it seemed to work wonders. I had never heard of a guy being able to get so turned on three times in a row.
A strange, almost foreign tingle erupted inside of me just then. With a quiet gasp of surprise, I let go of his penis, pulling back until I was lying sideways on the big armrest of his chair, nestled beside him. Trying to catch my breath proved to be impossible. It had suddenly hit me that I was incredibly aroused myself. Like, more so than I ever had been. Ever. Period. The end. Good god, my vagina was tingling like a maniac. And that weird tingle inside of me seemed to be pulsing all in my belly, sending splashes of pleasure up into my boobs and down into my crotch. Oh wow was it tingling down there!
“Why did you stop?” he asked, sounding hoarse.
Slowly, I looked up at him. He had his eyes closed. “Daddy?” I called to him softly.
Fluttering his eyes open, he seemed to have a hard time focusing on me. When he finally did, he asked, “What?”
Biting my lip and looking away from his eyes, I whispered, “I’m horny.”
“What??” he asked, sitting up a little, pulling me with him with the movement. Then his cheeks started flushing. Stammering, he said, “Claire, I-I… I–“
“Don’t be,” I interrupted him, guessing he was trying to apologize. Then I shrugged, feeling sheepish and biting my lip even harder. Then I added, “It’s kinda hard to avoid, daddy. All things considered.”
He paused and then asked, “What do you… ahh, do you need to–Christ. What… now what?”
Still biting my lip, I found myself staring at my father’s cock. “Well…” I said. Then I licked my lips.
“What–?” he asked, clearly at a loss for coherent thought.
Drawing in a shaky breath and still staring at his penis, I whispered, “Well, you’re still hard…”
He groaned.
“Maybe we could… help each other?” I suggested, risking a glance at his face. He had his eyes closed. Leaning closer to him, I whispered, “Maybe the third time is the charm.”
His only response was to groan again. Was that a good sign?
“Please?” I whispered from just a few inches away from his ear.
I realized he was breathing heavily. His mouth was open and I could hear him panting. Finally, he whispered, “Oh my god.” I stared at him expectantly. Hopefully. One more groan and then he was shaking his head as he muttered, “Fine. Just… do it. I’ll–ahh–I’ll just keep my eyes closed.”
I felt like clapping I was so happy, but I was afraid that might put his defences back up, reminding him that it was his own daughter he was about to do this with. Instead, I nimbly slid off the side of his chair onto the floor. As soon as I had my balance, I quickly stripped my way out of my clothes. All of my clothes. I wanted to be completely naked for this, even if he wasn’t watching.
With a shudder of anticipation, I stepped around the front of his chair. For a few seconds, I stood before him, feeling paralyzed as I stared at his naked lower half. I realized that I liked his legs quite a bit. They had a nice, tone shape to them. Especially his calves. He only had a little hair on them, which I also liked for some reason. Lifting my face so I could stare at his penis again, I noticed that the hair surrounding it was neatly trimmed. I didn’t know guys shaved their pubic hair, too! God, everything about this was insanely erotic. My inner thighs were soaking wet.
I needed this.
Stepping forward, I straddled my dad’s legs as I climbed onto his lap. Reaching down while I scooted my butt forward, I took hold of his still-erect penis and aimed it toward my vagina. My dad was bigger than any of the guys I had slept with, but not by too much. I didn’t think it would hurt. Shimmying forward a little more, I placed the head of his penis against my opening. Taking a deep breath, I thrust my hips forward and immediately felt my father’s cock penetrate my hole.
I was right. It didn’t hurt at all. Quite the contrary, I felt the wildest, strongest surge of arousal and pleasure I had ever felt before. I couldn’t hold still. My hips were in motion before the rest of me caught up and, just like that, I was fucking my father.
“OH JESUS CLAIRE FUCK AHH!” he cried out as I grinded myself atop him.
All I could do was moan in response, concentrating as hard as I was. Forward and back I slid my hips, forcing him deeper and deeper inside of me. God he was so hot! And hard! Way harder than the other boys I had been with. I wondered fleetingly if that was the drugs doing their magic, or if daddy’s cock was that hard all by itself.
I started moaning louder, feeling my orgasm coming closer and closer. My hands were gripped tightly around his waist and I used the leverage to lunge forward faster with each gyration. I was breathing wildly and I felt out of control. My butt slid along his legs, forward and back. Forward and back. His cock disappeared inside of me repeatedly, a penetrating piston. Pleasure tingled like a mini tornado in the pit of my stomach. I felt my orgasm screaming within me. I needed release. Oh god. Faster, I pulled my body, forcing my daddy to fuck me harder. Deeper. Oh yes! Faster. Forward and back. In and out he plunged. Yes! God yes! Harder. Faster. Deep. Oh! Hot. OH! Thick. OHHH! HARD!
“Oh Jesus fuck!” my dad suddenly exclaimed and then he said, more quietly, “You are beautiful.”
Opening my eyes, I looked down at him and saw what he was looking at. He was staring at my chest. My very naked, teenage chest. My nipples were the only things that jutted out, and I noticed they looked like pointy little pylons at the moment. They were a light pink, almost the same color as the surrounding skin. And I guess my daddy liked to look at them.
“GAAAUHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!” he cried out, and I felt his hips lurch upward as he impaled me. His thrust jolted my entire body.
Then I felt him. He was cumming inside of me. Hard.
“DADDY!” I cried out “Ahhh my pussy.” The searing heat of his sperm hitting the furthest depths of my pussy ignited something within me. My orgasm spilled over the top, crashing into my crotch. That swirling tornado in my belly grew larger, spiraling around until my entire body was a writhing, gelatinous mass of vibrations. I couldn’t hold still. I shivered, convulsed, shuddered, cried out, moaned, then fell forward onto my dad’s chest.
Meanwhile, he continued to erupt inside of me. Sperm jettisoned from the tip of his penis over and over again. How the hell could he still have so much sperm in there, after his two very recent orgasms? But I truly didn’t care. I loved how it felt. I was instantly addicted to the sensation. This was the first time I had ever had sex without the boy wearing a condom. Oh god, I would never be able to go back! It felt… unbelievable. Practically indescribable. My god. The feeling of his skin against the inside of my vagina, mixed with the searing heat of his spunk was pushing my orgasm to new heights.
The circling pleasure in my body lasted for nearly five minutes straight. Long after my daddy had stopped cumming. And as my body started coming back down to earth, I realized something.
Daddy’s penis was softening inside of me! Less than a minute later, it spilled out of me, followed by an oozing trail of my juice and his sperm. I clung to him and he instinctively started running his fingers through my hair, as if he was trying to soothe me.
“Thank you, dear,” he whispered at last. “Fuck… we can’t tell anyone about this.”
I smiled against his chest. He felt so warm, I didn’t want to let him go just yet. Eventually, I fell asleep just like that, completely naked in my father’s arms.