My childhood was a dichotomy. On one hand, I had my loving father, who was always pleasant and sweet and did everything for the family. On the other hand, I had my shrew of a mother, who was always mean and nasty and bitching about everything, mostly my father. I can remember night after night of her harping on him for one stupid thing after another. As much as I wanted the family to stay together, I sometimes wished that she would just leave. She was always the cause of the fights, and was never satisfied by anything that anyone else in the family did. You would have thought that a mother would want to bond with her only daughter, but that wasnât the case. She was never nice to me at all.
But enough about Mother. This story isnât about her. I mention her because it was her constant shrieking that brought me and my father closer together over the years. We had a common enemy. I didnât know what he saw in her. Perhaps she was different when she had been younger. Perhaps he liked the challenge. I donât know. But for whatever reason, he stayed with her and he loved her and he did his best to please her. It wasnât enough of course. After years and years of being displeased, she finally left. Dad, being the kind of man he is, took it hard, really hard. He was almost inconsolable. I felt really bad, but there wasnât much I could do about it. I tried to tell him that it was for the best, and now maybe he could be happy, but he wouldnât listen. He started staying out late at night drinking, and I was worried for him. Several nights he didnât come back at all.
I was very protective of my Daddy, and I didnât want him to get hurt. I couldnât even really sleep knowing that he was out there, somewhere, doing god-knows-what. I had been trying to sleep in my own room, but it wasnât working. When Dad came home drunk he wouldnât wake me up. I was afraid that he would get in trouble if there wasnât someone to watch him. Then one night, I had an idea. Iâd sleep in my parentsâ room. That way, when he got home, Iâd be there and he would have to wake me up. That idea made me feel better, so that night, after waiting up for him as long as I could, I crawled into my parentâs bed and fell right asleep.
My scheme worked perfectly. At about one in the morning, Dad came home, stumbling around, but trying to be quiet. I wouldnât have noticed him if Iâd been in my own room, but his bouncing around woke me up, at least a little. I opened one eye as I saw him struggling to get ready for bed. I was too tired to actually get up and help him, but he was doing an ok job by himself. I just remained in the bed, half-asleep. I had intended to get up, help him to bed, and then go back to my room, satisfied that he had gotten home safely. But, now, in the middle of the night, I was too tired to move.
He didnât turn the light on the whole time he was getting ready. I could only see him because there was a full-moon that night and because he had the hallway light on. I supposed that he had been conditioned not to wake up his wife, so he was used to getting undressed in the dark when he came home late. He was so considerate! I heard him go into the bathroom and then I drifted off to sleep again. As I said, it was pretty late.
A little while later I felt him get into bed and put the covers over himself. I was lying on my side, where Mom used to sleep, and he got in on his side behind me. He reached over and mumbled something. Then he put his arm around me. It felt so comforting to have Dadâs arm over me. He hugged me close and then began to âspoonâ me. Since I never got too many hugs from Mom, I had always been deprived of cuddling. It was so nice to have Dadâs warm hugs around me. I smiled.
We lay there for a few minutes in silence. Dad was snoring a little. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He had hit the bottle pretty hard that night. I was glad that he had made it home alright and that I was here for him. He really needed someone. I shudder to think what would have happened if he had been alone when Mom left. Slowly, in his sleep, Dad began rubbing my stomach. Up and down. His big hands crossed my tummy. Iâm a pretty small girl, and Daddy is a big man, so his hand almost completely covered my stomach. I loved getting my stomach rubbed. Sometimes, when Iâm alone, Iâll even rub it myself it feels so good. Daddy snuggled closer to me. He began to mumble something. It was inaudible at first, but he got clearer. âCome on Ellenâ, he was saying, âHow about it?â Ellen is my Momâs name. He was evidently dreaming about being with Mom. Maybe in his drunkenness he didnât remember that Mom had left him. He reached under my nightgown and put his hand directly on the skin of my stomach. His hand was cold, and it gave me goosebumps. Then he moved it up, and cupped my breast.
I opened my eyes wide. I didnât really know what to do. I didnât have the much experience sleeping with guys. His cold fingers made my nipples hard as he sensually and softly kneaded my breast. I just lay there in shock for a few seconds. Then he snuggled me tighter. I felt a poking sensation around my butt. âOh no, heâs nakedâ, I thought. I didnât realize that my father slept in the nude. He started rhythmically pressing his hips up against my ass. His hand began squeezing my breast in time with his gyrations.
I was a little scared. I mean, a father shouldnât be doing this to his own daughter right? It was weird, and a little sick. Of course, he had no idea what he was doing. As far as he was concerned, he was just trying to have sex with his wife, which is a completely natural thing to do. I wanted to wake him up, to tell him to stop. To warn him what he was trying to do to his own daughter. But then I decided that I couldnât do it. If I embarrassed him like that, he would get even more depressed. He would feel like a complete pervert. Finding out that not only had he failed as a husband, but that he also tried to screw his own daughter would completely ruin him. I couldnât do that to Daddy, he was a good man.
I tried to scoot out of the way a little, but Dad followed me across the bed. âPlease Ellen?â, he said, âItâs been so long.â He sounded so sad. He sounded like he really needed it. I didnât want to deny my own Daddy, he was such a great guy. He had been through so much. I wanted to be a good daughter to him, to make him happy, to make him feel good. I was the only family he had left. The only person he could trust. âYou know, I could just let him do it.â I thought. Who would know, right? I mean, he thought that he was having sex with his wife, so for him it was perfectly ok. I would know what happened, but as long as I kept quiet, it would be ok. After he was done I could just sneak back to my room, and when he woke up tomorrow, he would just think that it was all a dream.
I decided that I would do it, that I would let my Daddy fuck me. I reached down and slowly pulled my panties down to my knees. Then I backed up a little bit and opened my legs and inch. My Daddyâs penis slipped between my thighs. I closed my legs and squeezed on it lightly. It was so warm. It felt quite good. It was really stiff on the inside, but the outside was really soft and smooth. He rubbed himself up between my thighs for a while as I hesitated. Did I really want to do this? I decided that I did. His hands were all over my tits. They were making me wet between the legs. I didnât understand how he couldnât tell the difference between me and Mom. My breasts are way smaller than hers, but he kept rubbing them anyway saying, âI love you Ellen, I love you.â
I opened my legs a little and touched Daddyâs dick with my hand. I maneuvered the tip up against the lips of my vagina. He did the rest. With one stroke he was inside me. I gasped a little. I squeezed my legs closed again. I wanted to be tight for Daddy after all. He started to pump me, in and out in and out. He really knew his way around a womanâs body. He varied the length and time of each stroke, so I didnât know how far he was going to go in, and how long he was going to pause between each pump. Mom was a really lucky woman if she was getting this treatment regularly. He put his hand on my hip and pulled my ass closer towards him. He kept going for a good fifteen minutes. All the while he was whispering âEllen, Ellenâ. He was still dreaming about fucking his wife. I have to admit that it was very strange at first, pretending that I was my own Mother, but after a while I sort of got into it. I even started whispering back, âoh Harold, Fuck me Harold, harder, harder.â (My Dadâs name is Harold). My Dadâs penis really felt good inside me. It was like something that Iâd always been missing. We had been so close before, now we were even closer. I felt so good with myself that I was making him happy like this. I had tried so many other things to replace Mom since she left. I had cooked him dinner and cleaned the house and all that, but I never felt that I was giving him what he needed. Finally I found a way to make my Daddy happy. I was grinning ear to ear when he finally climaxed inside me.
We lay there quietly for a minute or two, breathing hard. Then he pulled out of me and rolled over onto his back. He was spent. After a minute I could hear his snoring. He was back in dreamland. I rolled over and put my arm around his chest. I could feel his semen slowly leaking out of me. He was beautiful. I looked down and finally saw my Daddyâs cock. It was kind of soft now, but it was still pretty big. I couldnât help myself. I had not had much experience with boys before, and I had never really gotten a chance to explore a manâs body. I reached down and took it in my hand. I played with it for a while, stretching it and bending it and just seeing what it was made out of. Iâm sure all girls do that when they have a chance, at least the curious ones do. To my surprise, it started to get stiff in my hand. I couldnât believe it. I had always heard that once a guy has an orgasm, he is done for the night. But here my Dad was proving how amazing a guy he was yet again. As I rubbed my fingertips over it, it got longer and longer and thicker and thicker. It was rock hard in just a few minutes. Wow! I really should have left then. I should have gone back to my room and let Daddy sleep and let him wake up and think that everything was a dream. But I was fascinated by his dick. It was much wider than the ones that I had seen previously. It was pretty long too. I needed a closer look. I scooted down and put my face right next to it. It looked like a weapon. I started imagining what it would be like to actually see it shoot sperm. I figured what the hell, and lowered my head down to it.
I started kissing the shaft. The skin was softer than a set of lips. It was still a bit sticky from being inside me. I stuck out my tongue and licked it, just below the head. It tasted like my own juices. I lifted it up a bit and took the entire tip in my mouth. I had never let a boy put his cock in my mouth before. I had thought that it was pretty gross actually. But it was different with Daddy. He could put his cock in my mouth anytime. I started sucking on in. Just a bit of suction at first, then more. I tried to get as much in my mouth as I could, but I have to admit, I couldnât take too much. Daddy started groaning in his sleep. He was enjoying himself. I sucked it for a while and then gave up, it was too big. I just aimed it at the ceiling and I started stroking it up and down. Iâve given several hand jobs in my life and I have been complemented on my technique. The key is to hold lightly and let the skin slide beneath your hand. I wasnât sure, because it was hard to see clearly, but I think that it had gotten even bigger than before. It looked absolutely huge. I couldnât believe that just a few minutes ago I fit that whole thing inside me. I kicked off my panties and began rubbing my pussy with my other hand. Although Daddy had fucked me for a long time, I hadnât come yet. I guess that I was too weirded out at first to enjoy myself. I was getting more comfortable with the idea now. I wondered if Mom ever gave Dad a hand job like this, and if so, was she as good. I hoped not. I hoped that she really sucked in bed. Maybe whatever man she ended up with would find out and leave her.
So, my left hand was stroking up and down on Daddyâs dick, while my right hand was tickling the fur between my legs. I never shave down there, I like the hair, it adds to my pleasure to have the hairs played with. I rubbed my little clit up and down. It was still all wet from my juice and my Daddyâs semen. My head was on Daddyâs stomach, and I watched his cock as I rubbed it. I wanted him to come again. I wanted him to shoot. I imagined what it would be like. Would it dribble out? Would it squirt to the ceiling? I had no idea. How much would there be?