I was asleep when he came into my room. It took me several minutes to realize what was happening. By then, my father had already undone his belt, dropped his jeans to the floor, and taken off his shirt. By the time he crawled into my bed and under the covers, I could smell the booze emanating from him and was awake enough to understand that this was not a dream. My dad had just stripped down to his underwear in my bedroom and gotten into my bed in the middle of the night.
It wasn't entirely his fault. For starters, he was drunk. He started drinking more after my mom was diagnosed. It wasn't a problem at first, but then, when the bad news came after the second round of chemo, the drinking intensified. The second reason why it wasn't his fault was I had just swapped bedrooms with my parents the week before. The cancer was spreading fast in my mother and their bedroom at the top of the stairs was becoming difficult to get to and from. Last week, my Daddy and I spent the day swapping the bed and dressers from my room at the foot of the stairs with Mom's things. After all, I was an 18-year-old woman, soon-to-be high school graduate and college student. I could climb some stairs.
The decorating stayed the same since... well... the doctors... they didn't think... the bedroom swap wasn't expected to be permanent.
And to top it all off, I was lying in bed facing away from my father, so how could he have known in his state that he was in the wrong bed?
If anything, it was my fault; I should have spoken up. I should have warned him. I should have said something. To this day, I don't know why I didn't say something. Maybe it was because I loved my dad so much. Even though he wasn't my biological father, he had always been there for me as far back as I could remember. And soon... he would be all that I have left.
I felt the bed shift from his weight, and it was pulling me backward like the mattress wanted us together. Fighting gravity, I remained on my side as I felt Daddy's warm body scooch closer to me until I was his little spoon to his big spoon. He kissed the blade of my bare shoulder, and I felt the scruff of his well-groomed short beard. My night light was behind him, so there was not enough light to see me. That and my long brunette hair was draped over my shoulder and cheek.
"I love you, Tracy," he whispered my mom's name into what he thought was his wife's ear.
I looked a lot like my mother, my only biological relative. We both were shorter at 5 foot 4 and had matching hair. While my mom had always had more weight on her love handles, she had become skinnier since chemo. On my darkest of nights, I often wondered what would come of me after she... It was revolting to think of such a thing like it was an inevitability, despite the doctors saying it was. It didn't feel right. It didn't feel okay.
Will I be alone in this world? I will become an orphan. After all, I was just a stray pup brought into my father's life. I was just a child my mother had from a previous relationship. What does he owe me? Nothing. I'm 18 now. If my mother was gone, he could wipe his hands clean of me.
I imagined myself alone in a cool desert in the middle of the night. The predators howled and stalked in the distance. Sand and blackness stretched as far as I could see.
Alone.
But I wasn't alone now. The kiss on my shoulder turned into a kiss on my neck. Shivers shot down my spine and back up again as his hot breath panted on the back of my neck. Daddy had never kissed me there. His hand palmed my upper thigh over the blanket and rubbed over my butt cheek. My lips parted as I gasped. When he squeezed my bubble butt, I clenched, holding my breath.
This, along with many other moments, would have been an excellent time to 'wake up' and stop my daddy, but I didn't. The covers moved slightly, and I realized he had moved his arm under them. Daddy's rough palm was so warm when he cupped my butt; it felt as though he had a furnace inside him. Even though the boy's boxers I wore to bed, his hand instantly permeated heat through my body.
Slipping around to my front, Daddy's hand worked its way under my tank top and slid up to my chest. If it wasn't for his intoxication, my Dad would have definitely realized I wasn't his wife at this point. My breasts were easily twice the size of my mother's rather flat chest. They had grown so much recently that it had actually become rather uncomfortable for me. I traded going to the gym three times a week for workouts in our basement in my dad's gym. Clothes had become layered and thicker, at least while at school. The attention from the boys was fun at first, but the snotty attitude from other girls and 'friends' turned it into a hindrance.
And yet, the moment my Daddy's hand cupped my breast, I no longer cared about their size or what others thought. All I thought about was the groan Daddy made when his palm cupped my right breast and squeezed it. My eyes flirted with rolling backward, and a small squeak escaped my mouth. Quickly shutting my mouth, I froze to see if I had outed myself, but my Dad's hand continued to rub circles over my bare breast. Within seconds, my nipples were hard and cutting into his palm. The rawness of the constant friction sent pop rocks through my veins. I tried not to move, but I couldn't help it, I was too aroused. My hips worked in circles like it was beckoning attention to it. By the time my father was pinching my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, I wondered if I was about to have my first nipple orgasm and if I could keep quiet, but then I felt it.
What began as a bump became a hard rod prodding my thick butt cheek. My mouth opened again as I pressed my butt back against daddy's penis, and I had to force myself to swallow my moans. I had always been a horny girl, but I had been able to stem my desires from the world by using my hand and various toys I had carefully (and secretly) acquired, but the sudden situation I found myself in felt like giving heroin to an alcoholic. I wasn't prepared for it, and I no longer knew if I could control myself.
"Mmmm..." I hummed a moan. My breathing through my nose quickened. That was when Daddy slid his hand down from my breasts, and I felt his strong palm rub back and forth on my tummy as he worked his fingertips inside the waistband of my boxers. "Ohmmm..."
I fought to keep my mouth closed. I really did, but I was breathing too heavily for that now, and the anticipation was too much. His hand was so gentle as it covered my crotch that it drove me insane. In my mind, I was a rabid animal, wanting him to use me like I used my own toys on myself, but Daddy was careful and slow. His middle finger dipped into the gooey middle of my vagina lips and ran up to my pulsating clitoris. The pad of his finger circled a tender kiss around my clitoris that threatened to send me into an orgasmic seizure.
"Oh my... God..." I mouthed, barely giving sound to the words.
Daddy slid his hand lower and worked between my lips. I could feel him press his fingertip inside my tight, dripping hole, and my hands clenched the side of the mattress. The walls of my vagina squeezed so hard on my daddy's middle finger that I couldn't imagine how he would fit his hard shaft inside me. Slowly but firmly, he slid his long finger in and out of me. I bit my lips together so hard that my mouth hurt. This stifled the moans I wanted to scream but accentuated my whimpers and staggered breaths I forced in and out of my nose.
