I bawled driving home from Dad's; I haven't cried like that since I was a little girl. I must have looked like a complete mess—I was glad to find Courtney, my roommate, wasn't in. I locked myself in the bathroom when I got home. I brushed my teeth and rinsed with antiseptic mouthwash trying to get that tang of my dad's cum out of my mouth, but the taste kept coming back. Maybe the lingering sensation was just psychological. I'm sure that's what my counselor would have told me, but she won't because she'll never hear about it.
I ran a hot bath, putting plenty of bubble bath and bath beads in. I slipped out of my jeans and as I unbuttoned my blouse, I couldn't help but notice the wet streaks of cum down the front. I threw the blouse down and stepped into the bath. It was too hot, but I forced myself into the heat welcoming the burn.
I wanted to relax, to forget, but I couldn't. I felt electrified. There was a pressure behind my eyes. It was an unpleasant feeling. It wasn't normal. I felt like I had been taken over, possessed, from the first moment I touched my dad's penis. I didn't feel like myself and I couldn't shake the strange feeling. I caught myself looking at the cum stains on my blouse where it lay on the bathroom floor. I willed myself to look away, but I found myself looking at it again and remembering the sensation of my dad's flesh filling my mouth and my fear as he forcefully pounded into my throat making me gag and almost vomit.
Finally, I gave up on relaxing and stepped out of the tub, feeling too keyed-up to stay still. I grabbed by clothes off the floor and buried them in my laundry basket where my roommate wouldn't see the cum stains, and where I wouldn't have to look at them.
I found a fresh pair of slacks and stepped into them, looked through my tops but couldn't decide, looked in the mirror, and, feeling dissatisfied, took off the slacks and put on an above-the-knee black skirt, matching it with a peach top with spaghetti straps. I looked in the mirror and felt better; all the right areas of my body were accentuated.
I dug in my purse for my phone and checked to see if anyone had tried to call. I half expected to see my dad's number, thinking he might have called to apologize for what he did to me, but his number wasn't there. Then I felt a touch of anger as I pictured him on his bed, totally relaxed after cumming in my mouth, and not even thinking about me.
I saw that my boyfriend, Justin, had called, and there was a voice mail. I noticed his call had come through around the time I had been with Dad, causing a flutter of guilt in my chest. I hit the call back button without bothering to listen to the message.
"Hey, Misty," came his voice.
"Justin," I was trying to sound cheerful but I could tell I was failing miserably, "I want you to take me out tonight."
"Yeah, that's what I was trying to call you about. Did you get my message? Terrance is having a thing at his place. It should be getting started already. It'll be fun."
"No, no, no, I can't do that tonight. I don't feel like hanging. I want to go out, just you and me. Take me to the Jungle. I need to dance tonight." The Jungle was a dance club. I knew Justin hated dancing, but I felt the need to work off my tension.
"Yeah, okay, I'll pick you up in a few." I could tell he was disappointed, but I used the tone with him. He knew what that meant. Usually I like to please. That's who I am, so I adapt to what he wants, but occasionally, I get in a mood, and when he hears the tone, he knows I'm going to get what I want, so there's no use in arguing.
The Jungle was just what I needed. It was dark and loud and crammed with dancing bodies. I think Justin was shocked, because I'm usually so shy and don't like to draw attention to myself, but on this night, I danced with a wild frenzy fueled by Rum and Cokes. He tried his best to keep up with me as I writhed and ground on him cravenly. I saw men giving me looks. I usually hate that, but in this strange mood, it excited me. I'm sure Justin saw. I wanted him to.
By the time we left, I was more than ready for some release. We went back to my place and luckily, Courtney was out, probably at her boyfriend's. I dragged Justin by the hand to my bedroom and immediately went for his pants and got down on my knees in front of him.
"Oh yeah! I want your big cock in my mouth right now." I looked up at him smiling.
He looked excited as I grabbed his penis and guided him into my mouth. I sucked and licked until he was rock hard.
"I want you to cum in my mouth. Do you want to?" I had sucked on him a few times before but never let him cum in my mouth before this.
"Yeah . . ." is all he said. He wasn't used to me being so sexually assertive; I'm sure he was more than a little surprised.
"Fuck me in my mouth, okay? Just ram me as hard as you want until you cum." I opened my mouth with my tongue out.
He stepped forward tentatively, "are you sure?"
"Yeah, I've been a bad girl. Now you need to punish me. Make me swallow your cum. Do it!" I grabbed his ass and pulled him forward taking his head in my mouth. I looked up at him expectantly, waiting.
Justin thrust into my mouth slowly. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself expecting him to start pounding my mouth like my dad had done to me, but instead, he was very gentle, thrusting in and out slowly, carefully.
I dug my fingernails into his ass cheeks, trying to give him the message, but when that didn't work, I forced myself forward until I felt him in my throat and I started gagging. I tried to relax my throat and force him down further, but I just gagged harder.
"Are you okay?" he asked with concern.
I pulled my mouth off his cock, giving him a disappointed look. "Fine! If you're not man enough to fuck my mouth, then just fuck me." I got up and bent over the bed. "Fuck me hard this time. Pound me. You need to punish me with your cock! Give me your cock Daddy!"
He pulled up my skirt, yanked down my panties and slapped my butt with his hand. It felt good. In an instant he was inside of me and pounding fast, just like I wanted.
"Harder! Faster!" I taunted.
He did.
"Oh Daddy! Fuck me Daddy! Fuck me hard!" I squealed at him.
He did as he was told and I built up quickly until I came in waves of beautiful wonderful contractions. "Oh God! You're making me cum Daddy, you're making me cum!"
My saying it seemed to make Justin climax too. I felt him release in me with a groan, then he pulled out slowly.
I sat up on the bed, satisfied. I smiled at Justin. I thought he must have just had the thrill of his life. I'd never been so kinky with him before. "Did you like that?" I asked.
To my surprise, Justin frowned at me as he pulled his pants back on. "What was all that 'Daddy'" stuff about? That was weird."
"What do you mean 'weird'?" Now I was incensed. "I thought you'd like it, so what?"
"I'm not into that. It makes me think you have a thing for your dad. It's kind of a turn off, you know. And, what was that crap about me not being man enough to fuck your mouth? Where did that come from? So, are you a masochist with a father fantasy now? Tell me the truth Misty—were you fantasizing about your old man when I was fucking you?"
My hand was open, but when I hit his face, it hit hard and he wasn't expecting that. He stumbled and hit the wall. His face was red.
I didn't bother looking for my shoes or my panties. I just left barefoot and slammed the door behind me. As I was pulling out of the driveway, I realized I had left him in my own apartment, but I wasn't about to go back, I just drove off without a plan.
I drove aimlessly, raging at his accusations. Then, as my anger ebbed, I became fearful that somehow I had given away what had happened between me and Victor. Did Justin somehow know or did he guess at my feelings? I tried to convince myself he couldn't have known, how could he, after all? He must have been jealous because of the other men at the club watching me. Maybe he was just mad because I told him he wasn't man enough. In any case, I knew I didn't want to see him or talk to him. Maybe never again.
I had been driving on auto-pilot and now I realized I was driving toward my dad's house. I kept on that route. I could sleep in my old bedroom, I decided.
Then, my mind turned on what had happened between me and my dad that afternoon. Did he start it or I? I wasn't sure. I know I touched him in a way I shouldn't have, but why did he have an erection to begin with? I could only think that my dad was sexually aroused by me when I hugged him, yet, at the same time, I didn't want to blame him after all his grief and his loneliness. Over the past couple years, his grief was so deep and dark it overwhelmed me to see it. I felt like crying every time I saw him. It affected me somehow very deep in my heart, took something away from me, like there was shadow over me as long as his grief continued. Still, I thought, it wasn't right for him to be aroused by me so easily. I think I was looking for a way to blame him because, if I had started it, there must be something about me. Why did I decide to start stroking my dad's penis, why didn't I just get out and leave? I couldn't face that question just yet. Justin's accusation still haunted me.
I was still in this frame of mind, going back and forth between pity and anger, when I arrived at the house. It occurred to me to go immediately to Victor's room and confront him, but then I thought I would just let him sleep and sneak into my old bed.
I let myself in, since I still had the key. I was surprised to find him awake sitting in his chair in the living room next a lamp. He had a glass of milk on the end table next to him. When he saw me, he quickly put the box he had on his lap down on the floor and pushed it to the side. I knew what it was. It was his Box of Grief, pictures of Mom and of all of us from when she was alive. He liked to pour over them, nursing his broken heart.
"Misty . . ."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to barge in on you. I thought you'd be asleep."
"No, couldn't sleep, probably because I sleep all day, as you like to point out to me."
"Sorry Dad. I sort of just had a fight with Justin. I thought maybe I could just sleep here for tonight. If that's okay with you I mean."
"Of course, you can always come here. Is everything okay? Are you okay?"
