I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside my window, the morning sun filtering through the thin curtains in my room. My mind was still foggy from the dreams I had been having lately. I turned to my side, the soft fabric of my nightie brushing against my skin. As I slowly got up, I couldn’t help but think about my dad and how things had been tense between us lately. I hadn’t been the most cooperative teenager, and I knew it bothered him.
I made my way to the bathroom, my feet padding softly on the cold floor. As I stood in front of the mirror, I couldn’t help but frown at my reflection. My 32B bra size felt insignificant, and I couldn’t help but wish for something a bit more voluptuous. I sighed, and started to undress, my nightie and knickers falling to the floor.
I stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over my body, washing away the remnants of my dreams. I closed my eyes, letting the water soothe my tense muscles. As I washed my hair and body, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad. I knew my parents’ relationship had been strained lately, and it was taking a toll on all of us.
After my shower, I dried off and got dressed, putting on my favourite pair of clean white lace panties and bra. I slipped into my jeans and a tank top, and took one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs.
As I made my way to the kitchen, I saw my dad trying to kiss my mum, but she moved away, looking sad. My dad’s face fell, and I could tell it hurt him. My mum didn’t seem to notice, and she continued to busy herself with making breakfast.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, trying to break the tension. “Mum said we’re going camping today.”
My dad looked up, a small smile forming on his face. “Yeah, your mum thought it would be good for us to spend some time together, just the two of us.”
I nodded, trying to hide my nervousness. My dad and I hadn’t been getting along lately, and the thought of spending an entire weekend alone with him made me uneasy. But I knew I had to try, for my mum’s sake.
As we packed up the car and drove to the campsite, I couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. I had never been camping before, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. But as we set up our tent and started a fire, I began to relax. The smell of wood smoke and the crackling of the fire were surprisingly soothing.
We sat by the fire, talking and laughing as the sun slowly sank below the horizon. We roasted marshmallows and drank whisky, the alcohol warming my insides and loosening my tongue. As the night wore on, I found myself opening up to my dad about my insecurities, especially about my small boobs.
“I know it’s silly, Dad,” I said, my cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “But I can’t help but wish I was a bit more… voluptuous.”
My dad looked at me, his eyes filled with concern. “Emma, you’re beautiful just the way you are. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
I smiled, feeling a little better. We continued to talk, and as the whisky flowed, my dad began to open up about his relationship with my mum.
“We haven’t had sex in over a year,” he confessed, his voice low and filled with regret. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just… can’t seem to get things right.”
I felt a pang of sympathy for my dad. I knew he was hurting, and I wished there was something I could do to help. As we sat there, talking and drinking, I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him.
The fire crackled and popped, the embers glowing in the darkness. We were both feeling the effects of the whisky, and our inhibitions were slowly slipping away. I found myself asking my dad a question that I wasn’t sure why I asked.
“Dad, can you still get anyone pregnant?”
My dad looked at me, surprised by my question. “No, your mum made me have the snip a few years ago.”
I nodded, feeling a little disappointed. I wasn’t sure why I had asked, but it felt like something I needed to know.
“What about you, Dad?” I asked, trying to change the subject. “Can you still… you know?”
My dad laughed, a deep, throaty laugh that echoed through the night. “Damn right I can still get it up, Emma.”
I smiled, feeling a little more at ease. We continued to talk, our voices carrying through the darkness. As the fire slowly died down, we decided to call it a night. We put the fire out and stumbled into the tent, both of us feeling the effects of the whisky.
Inside the tent, we talked some more, our voices low and hushed. I found myself opening up to my dad about my insecurities, and he listened patiently, offering words of encouragement and support.
As the night wore on, I found myself feeling more and more comfortable around my dad. I stripped down to my underwear, the warm night air feeling surprisingly soothing against my skin. My dad looked at me, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Emma, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.
I smiled, feeling a little mischievous. “It’s so warm, Dad. I just want to sleep like this.”
My dad nodded, trying to hide his shock. He stripped down to his boxers, revealing his round belly and surprisingly toned legs. We lay down in the sleeping bag, I face away from him as he spooned me.
As I lay there, feeling the warmth of my dad’s body against mine, I couldn’t help but feel a little strange. I knew we were just father and daughter, but the intimacy of the situation made me feel a little weird in a good way.
I felt my dad’s arm wrap around me, pulling me close. I could feel something hard poking me in my bum, and I knew what it was. I felt a little embarrassed, but I didn’t say anything. I decided to try something, I grabbed his hand and put it on one of my breasts against my bra.
“See there small dad.” I felt his hand squeeze my boob and he throbbed against my ass.
“Oh god, I shouldn’t be feeling them. They feel good honey,” he groaned as he squeezed them again. I then felt his hand go inside of my bra, “Is this… ok honey.”
“Yes,” I whispered, the sound barely audible. He slowly dry humped my bum. “It’s okay.”
I felt a mixture of excitement and confusion as my dad continued to touch me. It was wrong, I knew that, but it felt good. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was the reason he had been having trouble with my mum. Maybe he just needed to feel wanted, to feel desired. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the guilt that was creeping in.
As my dad continued to dry hump me, I could feel myself getting wet. I tried to ignore it, but it was becoming harder and harder to do. I knew I should stop this, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. I felt my dad’s hand move down, slipping under the waistband of my panties. He began to rub my clit, and I couldn’t help but moan softly.
“Dad, your humping my bum haha… are you wanting sex? Let me pull my knickers down a bit for you.” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I slid them down just past my ass and he shifted behind me and I felt the sticky head of his bare cock touch my leg. I then felt him push it against my pussy, the mushroom head parted my labia and he slowly sank it inside of me. He then held my ass and gently rocked back and forth while panting. Fuck its been weeks since I had a cock inside me.
He was heavy breathing behind me as he held me tight pumping me. My ass rattling off his chubby belly as he continued fucking me.
“Oh, Emma,” he groaned, his voice rough. “You feel so good, so tight.”
I bit my lip, trying to hold back a louder moan. His cock filled me up, pushing deep inside. It was a strange feeling, both wrong and exhilarating. The soft fabric of the sleeping bag rustled beneath us as he found a rhythm.
“Mmm, Dad,” I whispered, arching my back slightly, letting him go deeper. His belly thumped against my backside with each thrust. Slap, slap, squelch. The sounds were loud in the quiet tent.
“God, Emma, you’re so wet,” he panted, his hand gripping my hip. “So incredibly wet.”
I could feel his thick cock sliding in and out, the head just brushing my cervix with every deep push. It hurt a little, but it was a good kind of hurt, a stretching, filling sensation.
“Don’t stop,” I urged him, my voice shaky. My own breath hitched in my throat. I could feel the pressure building inside me, a hot knot forming deep down.
He groaned, thrusting harder, faster now. “Never, baby, never.” His hips rocked wildly, his rhythm urgent. Thud, thud, pop. My ass cheeks jiggled with each impact against his belly.
My breath caught in my throat. He was hitting me so deep now. Each thrust sent a shiver through me. The feeling of him, hard and full, sliding inside was overwhelming.
“Oh, God, Dad,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper. My body was trembling.
His thrusts became frantic, a desperate rhythm. Slap, slap, thud. My ass was bouncing against his stomach, a wet, fleshy sound echoing in the small tent. His cock felt enormous inside me, stretching me, filling every inch.
“Emma, I’m so close, baby,” he groaned, his voice raw with effort. He pulled me tighter against him, burying his face in my hair. “So, so good.”
I felt a surge, deep inside. A hot wave started to build, pushing against the head of his cock. My hips instinctively bucked back into him, trying to meet his force.
“Ah! Dad, yes! Faster!” I cried out, unable to hold back. My nails dug into the sleeping bag beneath me.
He obeyed, pounding me without mercy. The wet sounds were louder now, a frantic squelch with every thrust. His heavy breathing filled my ears. I could feel his balls slapping against me. “Ahhh dad… yes, ahh my pussy. Your big… harder.”
He was moving like a madman, each thrust deeper than the last. My hips rose to meet him, a desperate, animalistic urge taking over. His old cock, it wasn’t huge, but it felt so perfect, so thick and full inside me. It stretched me in all the right ways.
“Oh, God, Dad, yes!” I screamed, my voice raw. My back arched, my fingers clawing at the sleeping bag. “That’s it! Right there!”
He groaned, a guttural sound. “Emma! You’re amazing, baby. So good!”
The sounds of flesh against flesh, wet slaps and thuds, filled the tent. My ass bounced against his hard belly, a rhythmic pounding. I could feel the head of his cock grinding against my G-spot, unleashing a torrent of pleasure. It was too much, so intense.
“I’m… I’m coming, Dad!” I gasped, my body tightening.
He slammed into me one last, powerful time. “Me too, Emma, me too!”
A wave of pure, white-hot pleasure crashed over me. My whole body seized, trembling violently as my orgasm burst forth. I cried out, a long, drawn-out moan that mixed with his own raw groan. I felt his warm, thick cum flood deep inside me, a sudden gush that made me arch even further.
“Ahhhhhh!” I screamed, exhaling slowly as my body relaxed, still buzzing from the intense climax.
He collapsed onto me, heavy and breathless. His cock still deep inside, throbbing. We lay there, heartbeats thrumming, the only sounds our ragged breaths. My ass was pressed against his stomach, slick with sweat and cum.
“Oh, god, Emma,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, buried in my hair. “That was… incredible.”
I could only nod, still shaking. It was wrong, so undeniably wrong, but it had felt so incredibly right. The warmth of him, the weight, the way he had filled me. His old cock had done something my young lovers hadn’t. It had felt substantial, experienced, and completely devoted to my pleasure.
“Your… your old cock is amazing, Dad,” I mumbled, surprising myself with the words. But I meant them.
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound against my back. “Glad you think so, honey. Been a while since it’s had a workout like that.” He shifted, pulling out slowly, and I felt a pang of disappointment as the heavy fullness left me.
We lay there in silence for a long time, the weight of what we had done settling over us, yet strangely, it felt… comforting. I drifted off to sleep, curled against my dad, still feeling the faint throb between my legs.
I woke up slowly, the sunlight filtering faintly through the tent fabric. For a moment, I forgot where I was. Then I felt the heavy arm draped over my waist, the distinct warmth of my dad’s body spooned against mine. I remembered. Everything. The whisky, the conversation, the feeling of his old cock inside me.
I felt a blush creep up my neck. What had we done?
I carefully, slowly, detached myself from him, my body still a little sore and tender. He stirred, groaning softly, but didn’t wake. I slipped out of the sleeping bag and quickly pulled on my underwear and a t-shirt, needing to feel some distance, some clothing.
I crept outside the tent. The morning air was crisp and cool. The campsite was quiet, the ashes of our fire still smoking faintly. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
My dad emerged a few minutes later, rubbing his eyes. He stopped dead when he saw me, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. Embarrassment? Regret? Desire?
“Morning, Emma,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat.
“Morning, Dad,” I replied, trying to sound normal. I kept my eyes on the still-smoking fire pit.
We made breakfast in strained silence. The eggs sizzled loudly in the pan, the coffee bubbled in the percolator. Every now and then, I’d steal a glance at him. He looked… tired. But also, oddly relaxed. Not the tense, preoccupied look he usually had around Mum.
“Sleep well?” he asked, pouring coffee into two mugs.
I almost choked on my mouthful of egg. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, fine, Dad. You?”
He just grunted, taking a long sip of his coffee. “Good enough.”
The drive home was quiet. Very quiet. Not the tense, awkward silence we usually had, but a strange, heavy quiet. A quiet full of unspoken things. I kept my gaze fixed out the window, watching the trees blur by. Every bump in the road, every shift of his hand on the steering wheel, made me acutely aware of him, of what had happened.
My pussy still tingled sometimes when I shifted. I wondered if he felt it too. The phantom weight of his cock inside me.
When we pulled into our driveway, Mum was already out in the garden, watering her roses. She looked up as the car stopped, a small, weary smile on her face.
“Welcome home, you two,” she called out, oblivious.
My dad forced a smile back, a practiced, almost painful expression. “Hey, hon.”
As I got out of the car, I glanced at my dad. He caught my eye, and for a brief second, I saw it again – that unreadable mix of emotions. Then, he looked away, heading to the boot to get the bags.
I walked past my mum, into the house. Our secret was a tangible thing, a heavy weight that settled between us, silent and unseen. It was wrong. It was so, so wrong. Yet, a part of me, a small, dark, thrilling part, wondered if we’d ever do it again. My old man, my dad. He made me feel more desired than I had in years. And his old cock, it definitely knew how to please.