After Thanksgiving dinner, I lay stuffed, out on the couch, hoping to ease off the heavy meal. My father sat at the end of the sofa, so I propped my feet in his lap. He watched the news and I sighed as he began lightly massaging my toes. I've been having this really sexual interest in my dad. It started last year when a talk show was blaring on the TV. My parents and I sat in separate locations across the den. On cable, Oprah was talking to a couple that was having troubles with their sex life. Despite much pleading from the husband, the wife refused to sleep with him anymore.
"Know how that feels," said my fifty-two-year-old father.
My mother simply shook her head in response. "We're too old for that."
I wrinkled my nose at the thought of parent sex, but as my thoughts wondered on and on, the thought of my dad so in need of sex turned me on.
There was no telling how long it'd been since his cock had felt itself buried to the hilt in a hot pussy. The thought was enough to make me excuse myself that afternoon, so I could go to the privacy of my bedroom and bring myself off with my fingers.
My mother was busy in the kitchen, washing the dishes and I relaxed into the couch cushions, enjoying the gentle feeling of his foot massage. My thoughts raced again and I felt my pussy getting wet at the prospect of being the one woman to help my dad out, as he hadn't been with anyone in years. His massage rose to my calves and at that moment I soaked the satin beige panties. I knew I'd have to do something to fix this problem, before I went insane.
That night I watched Dad drinking bottle after bottle of beer with interest. Every night, he sits in the living room, drinking until he knocks himself out and falls asleep in his recliner. Around eleven, my mother grumbled at the sound of his snoring and excused herself to bed. It seemed as if she wasn't even going to bother to wake him up. He was too gone.
I waited until I was positive she was asleep before making my move. Dad sat in his boxers and t-shirt, snoring away, and I stood up and got to my knees. Praying he wouldn't wake up, I began lightly fumbling with the fabric of his boxers, tracing the flannel and slightly daring myself to go farther and farther in. Finally, in a rush of bravery, I dipped my hand into the opening, pulling outside his soft purplish cock from its hiding place.
Wow. I'd only seen Dad's cock as a child when I peeked in the bathroom to watch his piss shoot from the monstrous organ. This time, my interest had changed a bit and I at once began imagining stuffing the piece into my pussy, feeling it writhe and throb inside of me, before spurting loads of cum inside.
I find cum to be the ultimate turn-on. I often imagined lying underneath a shower of cum from millions of men, or being fantastically with a man who had some sort of fictional dysfunction. The dysfunction would cause him to create gallons and gallons of sperm that would shoot all inside me and when I was full, this mysterious man would spray my snatch, the gooey stuff getting stuck in my pubic hair. He'd finish up by drenching my breasts and hair, until I was a walking cum-girl.
I sat, looking at the sleeping giant, imagining it as a cum-machine. At once, my hands had pulled my nightgown up and my fingers were buried in my pussy, rubbing at my clit as I stared. When I had appeased the throbbing, I returned to Dad's cock. Touching it, gently at first, I gradually gained strength when he showed no signs of waking. I worked at it, thinking maybe I could even jack him off in his sleep. As the cock became hard, I leaned up in order to have a taste.
God, it was delicious. Salty and strong. I sucked on my pacifier for several minutes, my body against his recliner, grinding my clit against his leg. I was certain his skin was being drenched in my juices, but I kept on. This guy was not going to wake up. I could probably get on top of him and ride him to kingdom come and he'd snore right on.
I was wrong in my assumptions, however. As I sucked Daddy's cock, I heard a moan and jumped, looking up to see his face. His sleepy eyes gradually opened and a look of confusion infested his calm demeanor. "What the hell?" he said, loudly, but I held onto his cock with my lips. Part of the brave side of me thought that maybe he'd give in if I did it well enough. I applied as much suction as I could, my tongue massaging his head quickly and thoroughly. He was beginning to come to a complete awakened stage, but he didn't bother stopping.
Grinding upwards, his big hands moved behind my head to keep me down on that engorged creature. "Mmmm," I moaned and he closed his eyes. I focused on giving him pleasure until he started to jerk.
"I'm cumming. Baby, I'm cumming," he moaned and I waited until I tasted the first drop of his baby-making juice on my tongue. I backed away, quickly stripping my nightgown off and holding my breasts out for him to shoot on. God did he shoot. Lord knows how long it'd been since he'd jerked off, but man, it just kept cumming. That white gooey stuff hit in spurts on my breasts.
"You slut!!" he shouted as he saw how bad I wanted to feel his load. "My daughter is a sick fucking slut who wants to screw her own father." He then positioned his cock and aimed for my face.
The spurts hit my eyes and lips, but I turned my head down so he could finish up in my hair. He sat back and moaned when he was done, but I told him I would help him wipe up the excess cum. He looked at me in confusion, but I stood up, straddling his waist with my panties positioned directly in front of his slimy cock. Taking his dick, I wiped it on the crotch of my panties, his wetness collecting with my own. Then I stood tall, slipping the panties off my hips and down my slender frame. I raised them to my long red hair, catching the globs of sperm resting in my locks. I then rubbed the inside crotch across my breasts, collecting his gooey semen. I stepped again into my panties, the cum collected in the crotch and pulled them up. The slimy stuff made contact with my hot cunt and I left him alone in the living room to recover. When I made it to my room, I masturbated, my fingers rubbing myself through the fabric, so I could enjoy the stickiness his mixture had made.
When I woke in the morning, recalling all of the excitement we'd shared the previous night, I knew that our fun was not yet over. I smiled to myself, wondering how on Earth I'd get him in the sack. I'd find a way, though. I took a shower and stepped out, drying myself and reaching to dress with the clothes I set out before going to bed. I always set out my outfits before sleeping. The mornings are stressful enough as it is.
As I reached for my clean panties, I noticed a wetness seeping through. I looked closer, sniffing the substance. Cum. My father had cum in the crotch of my clean panties, while I was fast asleep. I excitedly put the panties on, loving the feel of his semen sloshing around at my snatch. He was such a thoughtful man.
All day, through work, I thought of my father's wetness between my legs, probably super crusty by now. When I returned home, I'd sit down and talk fair and square about being the woman he was going to fuck. I was happy to take my mother's place.
That evening, the same ritual was carried out. I noticed, however, Dad didn't drink nearly enough bottles of beer to pass out, as usual. Instead, he drank and then quickly began to snore. I was positive he was only faking it. How clever. At eleven, once again, my mother annoyedly left to sleep, grumbling about my father's loud snoring. I waited until she was asleep before coming to sit in my father's lap. His eyes opened immediately and he said, "Thought you were going to get away with what you did, last night, huh?" I jumped surprised.
"I just wanted to see your cock, Daddy."
"Is that all?" he demanded.
"No . . . Daddy, can I fuck you? I know that Mom hasn't. I'm a grown woman, now. I'm eighteen. I can take your cock."
As I prepared an argument, he surprised me, by picking me up in his strong arms, then lightly dropping me to the carpeted floor. He said nothing as he stripped me of my nightgown and panties, and I watched in anticipation as the bulge in his pants grew at an alarming rate. I helped him pull his shirt off, but he slowly and tantalizingly undressed himself, after that.
His fingers clumsily ravaged my pussy, finding that I was soaked. He smiled a satisfied smile. "You're not going to take any getting ready like your Mother," he winked. I spread my legs as far as I could get them and he raised himself up, his dick grazing my pussy lips, gently.
"Fuck me, Dad. You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this."
It was all the pleading he needed. He rammed his rock-hard cock into my pussy, until he reached the hilt. I felt my pussy being rubbed rough by his hard sac hairs. God it was incredible. He began to find a rhythm. In and out. In and out. Each time, he came all the way in, our pubic bones hitting against each other. He'd grind against my clit, sending me into waves of pleasure. I hit my orgasm, quickly. I'd been fantasizing myself to a climax. He took his time, however, wanting to enjoy his first fuck in many years.
