Special thanks to kenjisato for the great editing.
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It had been two weeks since Daddy had spanked me. Sitting in my best girlfriend's bedroom, trying to look interested while she ranted about her most recent breakup, I couldn't stop thinking about his hands on me that night. Since it had happened, it was all I could think about. The last two weeks had been a strange blur, memories mixed with fantasies constantly playing in my head.
I shifted uncomfortably on Monica's bed, crossing my legs in an attempt to stop the tingling in my pussy. Whenever I thought about that night, I inevitably got wet. Even if I didn't notice it straight away, I would later discover the wet patch in my panties.
"Are you even listening to me?" Monica's dark brown eyes glare at me, a pout forming on her glossy lips.
"Yes, yes. Of course, I'm listening. Danny is such an asshole." She seemed happy with my answer and continued telling me about her latest ex. It wasn't true though; Danny was really nice. Probably the sweetest of all of her boyfriends. When we would hang out together I didn't even feel like the third wheel. Well, not as much as I usually did with her other boyfriends.
I was normally happy when she broke up with her boyfriends. Secretly happy. When she became newly single I would get to spend more time with her. I would also get to comfort her, and tell how how she deserved someone much better, and that she was beautiful. And she was very beautiful.
Standing two inches taller than me at 5'7", her lithe frame, velvety smooth mocha skin, perky B-cups and dazzling smile would catch the attention of everyone in the room. Even with my curvy figure and D-cup sized breasts, I was invisible when I was with her.
Normally, when she had finished with her latest guy, it would be my turn to be with her. It was only ever temporary, until she moved onto to the next one; and knowing this, I would cherish my time with her. I revelled in my role in soothing her pain, in being her hero. She would let me hold her and comfort her by caressing her soft skin. I would gently kiss her luscious lips, then massage her pliable breasts until her hardened nubs pressed into my palms. Then, when she parted her mouth to let me taste her, she would also part her legs to let my fingers slip inside.
Normally, it would be this way; yet, today was different. Today I was obsessed with someone else. For once, she wasn't the centre of my world, and she could sense it.
"Hey, are you okay?" Her voice was gentle. She actually looked concerned for me. "You haven't been yourself lately. Tell me what's going on."
I look away from her, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. I whisper, "I told someone." She just stared at me blankly. "About us," I continued, daring a quick glance at her.
I watch the expression on her face change as the realisation sets in. Her eyes widen and her mouth forms a perfect O as she shrieks, "Oh my god! Who? Who did you tell?"
"I'm so sorry, Mon. I know we said we would never tell. It just kinda slipped out." My cheeks feel like they're on fire.
She asks again, "Who?" I open my mouth to tell her, then close it again. "Tell me who!" This time, her tone is more demanding.
"Daddy!" I blurt out. I wince a little and hold my breath while I wait for her reaction. I can see she is stunned. Confused even.
"What the fuck? Why on earth would you tell him?" Her voice gets louder, the disbelief at my betrayal evident.
"Well..." I stammer, "He kinda spanked it out of me." The words sound like a question rather than a statement. Even I doubt that it sounds plausible.
Monica just stares at me, not saying a word. After about thirty seconds she breaks the silence with an outburst of hysterical laughter.
"Oh my god, you had me going there!" I laugh along with her as she hugs me, then I'm pushed down onto my back. She is still laughing as she bends over me and kisses me swiftly on the neck. I feel giddy with her being so close to me. I can smell the sweet scent of her perfume and feel the faint brush of her tight black curls, as she moves to lay beside me.
As our laughter subsides, we turn towards each other on the bed so we are face to face. In that moment, my green eyes look into her dark chocolate eyes, and I want to kiss her full lips. I want to be in her tight embrace, legs entwined together, the contrast of our light and dark skin an erotic and sensual sight.
"It's true, Mon. I told him about us." My serious tone causes her to become still, and the smile slowly fades from her face.
After a few thoughtful moments she asks, "Did he really hit you?"
"No, it wasn't like that. He didn't hit me. He spanked me. There's a difference."
She looks at me, surprised at my confession. She starts to giggle, then pulls me closer and playfully slaps my ass. "Did he spank you like that?"
"No!" I'm laughing again, relieved that she is taking this so well. "He had me over his knees. That's how he did it."
We both giggle as she tries to spank my butt, all the while I am trying to catch her hands to make her stop. "Why the fuck was he spanking you in the first place? You're almost nineteen years old! You're not a little kid anymore." She had a fair point. It didn't make sense that he would treat me like a child. I had to come clean to my best friend so she would understand.
"It was that night when I stayed late at your place watching a movie. He thought I had been out messing around with a boy, and he was so pissed!" Monica nodded her head. She knew how moody and agitated he had been lately.
"Did you like it?" Her eyes held a mischievous twinkle.
"No! Yes. I mean... it kinda hurt, and it kinda felt good, too." I could feel my pussy twitch with the excitement of reliving the encounter.
"So he spanked you because he thought you had been with a boy?" I nodded my head. "What did he say when you told him about us?"
"Nothing. He didn't say anything at all. He, ummm... actually, he got really turned on." I felt shy to tell her of my first sexual experience with a man. She had lost her virginity eight months ago, and would tell me in detail every time she had been with a guy. And there were plenty of times. Now it was my turn to tell.
"I could feel his hard-on rubbing against me." She looked at me with wide eyes. "That's fucked up! He's your dad!!"
"I know, I know." How many times had I thought the same thing over the past two weeks? What had happened was taboo. Even so, I couldn't help but get turned on every time I thought about it.
"Tell me everything!" Monica looks at me with an impish grin, wanting me to tell her everything. In detail. I smile as I shift closer to her. With our legs finding their familiar positioning, our hands resting on each other's thighs, we lean into each other as I tell her everything.
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I had expected that it would be awkward at home. When your father puts you over his knee, spanks and fingers you to orgasm, then cums on your stomach, you would think that things would get weird after that. Strangely, it didn't happen that way. Instead, home life felt like normal.
The morning after that incestuous night two weeks ago, I woke up and went downstairs to the kitchen like I always did.