I know it's wrong. I want you to know that before I continue my story. I need you to understand that this is what I've chosen for myself. Lines were never crossed. I was a consenting adult. Mostly. I mean, I was eighteen when it happened. But not truly an adult - not maturity-wise anyways. And, yeah, you can say that it's caused some upheaval in my life, but it's always been worth it.
Here's where it started:
It was the summer between my senior year of high school and my freshman year of college. I was spending the summer doing a big fat nothing - my little treat to myself for having graduated valedictorian and getting accepted to Princeton, Brown, and Yale. (I chose Yale)
Anyways, my parents had planned on taking me for a seven day cruise in the Caribbean in July, but my mom got called away on an emergency business trip. She sent my father and me on the cruise, insisting that it would be a shame for us all to miss the relaxation. Plus, she said, I'd earned it.
By day two of our cruise, my father was regularly supplying me with strawberry daiquiris and Bahama Mama's because we were in international waters so the drinking age no longer applied. (Our combined logic) I'd had a couple drinks and was feeling a little buzzed and I think he was too as we made our way to the elevators. We'd spent the day at the pool. I was wearing a hunter green bikini that tied pretty much everywhere and accented my natural olive complex. I had a towel wrapped around my waist as we stepped into the elevators.
"Looks like you got a little burned today," my father observed, pulling the string a little off my shoulder. The tips of his fingers brushed against my collar bone, cool on my hot skin. My nipples tightened at the sensation.
"Forgot to do the RE-apply thing with the sunscreen," I laughed.
My father shook his head. "I think your mother packed some aloe in my bag," he replied. "I'll get it for you when we get to my room."
My parents were supposed to share a room. I had a room to myself. When I'd heard that I had immediately begun imagining sneaking some hottie in there and having my first ever one-night stand. That's what this summer was about - flings and letting off steam.
My father let us into his suite and rummaged throw his toiletry bag until he found a small bottle of green aloe gel. "I'll put some on your back if you want me to," he offered.
I innocently agreed. My father has big hands, rough from years of hard work. I let out an unintentional moan as he started working the aloe into my shoulders. I should also mention that my father was also one of those men like Brad Pitt or George Clooney who just got better looking as they aged. I'd never really thought about it much until this moment. But as his hands worked the aloe lower down my back I became aware of a sensation building in my belly. I was beginning to feel flushed and it wasn't from the sun burn.
I wanted to step away, to retreat to my room because I knew these kinds of feelings were wrong. It was probably the alcohol, I told myself, as I let him work his hands all the way down to just where my bikini bottoms began. There was no way I was getting turned on by my father.
I felt his hands slide around my waist, rubbing the last of the gel into the sensitive skin of my lower abdomen. His fingers grazed the top of my bikini bottoms and I gave an involuntary twitch.
I could feel his breath on my neck now, hot and heavy. A little ragged too.
He trailed his fingers along the edge of bikini again. I could feel the tip of his erection just barely pressed into my back.
"Daddy, what are you doing?" I whispered. Anything louder might break the spell.
My nipples were so hard they were beginning to chaff under their wet triangles and my pussy was beginning to ache.He kissed the tender spot at the junction of my neck and shoulder. "Spending quality time with my baby girl," he breathed into my ear.
I couldn't help the whimper that escaped my lips as his fingers finally slid under my bikini bottoms and came to rest just at the top of my slit. He began messaging slow, sensual circles there.
"Is that silly boy Jeremy the only guy you've been with?" he asked.
I could only nod my response. Jeremy and I had broken up three weeks ago.
"Good." His middle finger gently parted my slit and slid down to my labia. He growled against my neck. "You're all wet Lily. And warm. And you feel like silk."
I tilted my hips forward, trying to push my vagina further onto his hand. He chuckled. "Needy little thing aren't you?"
His other hand gently plucked at the strings of my top which immediately fell into a wet pile on the floor. He cupped my right breast, pinching the nipple softly. "Perfect breasts. A handful, just like Daddy likes them. With tiny, delicate nipples," he went on, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
His left hand kept up its lazy exploration of my pussy. He kept his middle finger swirling around in my juices, bumping against my clit, but never penetrating me. I'd never really been seduced before. Not like this. Jeremy had always been in a hurry to stick it in me. Then he'd hurriedly pump into me six or seven times before cumming. He'd never made me cum.
This was different. My father was teasing me, toying with me. And my body was responding in ways I'd never experienced.
Abruptly, my father removed his hand from beneath my bikini and turned me around to face him. He kissed me, a harsh, demanding kiss. I moaned against his mouth as I kissed him back. His hands ran down my sides and yanked at the strings of my bikini, discarding the bottoms with as much ease as the top.
His kissed his way down my neck, lowering his head to my left breast. He gently flicked my nipple with his tongue. I moaned again, arching my back to push my nipple closer. One hand gripped an ass cheek, the other closed over my right breast, and he sucked my left nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard and nipped the small bud playfully. I gasped in pleasure.
