Author's Note: Do not feel the need to go back and read the first part Daddy's Poker Chip. This story is self-contained. That said, if you like this story, you'll probably like the first installment. Thank you to fans of the first story whose comments of the past three years forced me to think of another chapter. Hopefully I haven't jumped the shark.
My dad definitely forgot I was coming home from college.
Honestly, at times of late, it felt like he'd forgotten me entirely.
But I knew exactly what he was doing, hunched over his computer, his hand moving down inside his pants.
But first, let me give my own confession. College felt exactly like high school all over again, only worse. I was the eldest, the only girl with three brothers. Suffice it to say, I had a special pull with my dad. We had been close, I guess I should have expected that to change after moving three hours away. But at first it didn't...
Of late he seemed distracted, distance, as though trying to force some space between our usually close connection.
Maybe he just wanted me to grow up and stop being such a Daddy's girl.
But I did not belong at St. Francis. I know there's a stereotype about the way Catholic girls misbehave, I guess it's just my luck to have never made friends with any of those. My friends and teammates at the women's college would have been mortified at some of the more perverted thoughts running through my head or at some of my own desperate actions.
I'd remained pure, but only in a technical way. My favorite method for release was to place pictures of myself online. I used different adult amateur sites and gushed when comments and catcalls came pouring into my throwaway email. I had the body, tall, long legs, straight dark brunette hair, curvy in the right ways. I usually wear a 38 DD bra that never seemed to fit quite right. I could spend a few hours posting photos on a Friday night, masturbating with one hand, the other trying to respond to some random guy in a chat room.
There was something about it that built my confidence in a profound way. I know every girl is probably a little insecure about their tits, maybe with the exception of Katie Perry, who doesn't mind letting even Elmo take a look. But a lot of the focus seems directed at the girl who wish their boobies were bigger. Girls who develop larger naturally often find themselves the center of attention because of their most awkward feature.
Like a lot of girls, I became then remained paranoid that my boobs were a mirage, only slightly better than those who stuffed their bra. I worried (even at 19) about them looking saggy or droopy, about the swelling size of my nipples, about the contrast between the cleavage I saw in magazines and movies compared to my own naked body in front of the mirror.
Intellectually, I knew that even while Sophia Vergara paraded around the set of Modern Family, she also depended on a bra to stop the slope of gravity. But try using logic alone to fight teenage insecurities. It didn't help that in our rigid faith, pounded into my brain through decades of Catholic school, the first time my future husband would see me naked was after our wedding.
Would he be stuck pretending to like what was in front of him?
I don't want to complain - my confidence has been growing. But because of the wrong reasons. I became obsessed with my online persona, getting bolder with every week. Still, I kept myself in check, hiding my face through strategic photos. I started with just risque photos, progressing to bare topless images. There were dozens of pictures of me with my legs spread apart, my vibrator inserted, even a gif of the action as I pushed it in and out.
My favorite one went on my profile. My long dark hair tied into an innocent-looking ponytail, one hand pulling on my plaid skirt, showing just the half moon of my heart-shaped ass. I twisted so that the side of my right breast and nipple were also on display, my head down so that no one could ever identify me.
The rush of posting increased with each like and comment. I wanted more, and yet so many things held me back from meeting up with any of the desperate horny guys begging to make my acquaintance.
Worse, there was no one I could talk to about this. I certainly couldn't confess to the priest, and my friends were all prudes. If I opened my mouth, there was the very real possibility of riding in a seat all by myself to every volleyball game. And truthfully, the scholarship was the only thing that kept me going.
Suffice it to say, I was glad to spend Spring Break away from campus. Even if it meant putting up with the crassness of my three teenage brothers, or dealing with the drama that always accompanied my mother on vacation. Admittedly, I forgot to text that I was on my way, but that really shouldn't have mattered. I honestly didn't think anyone would be home. After all my dad was supposed to be at work, so I didn't even bother announcing myself. I had my bag in one hand, walking into my old room, which I knew Dad had transformed into his own man cave.
I walked in, the door wide open. He sat at the desk, a laptop on the desk, his hands down his pants. My eyes went to the screen, where a petite blonde girl.
"Stand up, baby girl." I hear the speakers say.
The camera showed the streaks of cum dripping down onto a blonde haired girl with small tits, who looked a little like my cousin. Actually, a lot like my cousin. But before I could think too much about it or even get a good look at the tiny screen, I heard my father unbuckling his belt, pulling out his dick. At first, I can barely see more than the large mushroom head, his hand covers the rest.
I know I should say something. Announce myself or at least cough, but my eyes are glued to the first penis I've ever seen in person. It's huge. I'm no expert, but pretty much every man who sees my photos on the internet thinks that seeing a picture of their dick will convince me to fuck them. Sometimes they aren't even very impressive, but Daddy - I mean my Dad certainly is imposing. He's already completely hard, and nearly completely outside his jeans his hand barely covers half of it.
"Bend over, spread that ass open for Daddy."
Daddy huh?
Though my mind hovered at the edge of the perverse, I knew from the internet that a lot of girls called their man Daddy. I also knew from pornhub the new prevalence of naughty step-daughter and step-sister videos. I wondered if my barely techno-literate Dad had just discovered the genre. Maybe his newfound fetish led to some understandable awkwardness with his nineteen year old daughter, explaining his recent distance.
On the laptop, the camera zooms in on the cum leaking out from the petite girl's asshole. She bends over further and the lips of her pussy part, leaking more cum, clearly from being freshly fucked. It's extremely kinky, only not at all professional quality. It looked like something shot on an iPhone, fuzzy and hard to make out.
My father adjusted again, trying to pull down the rest of his pants. I don't know what's come over me. There's fight, there's flight, why does no one talk about the last response, standing in stunned silence waiting for the brain to work?
And there was that dick, the closest I'd ever been to a man's body. I watched, fascinated by his slow stroking motion. It didn't matter that it was my dad, something stirred shamefully below my waist...
Then my dad turned, trying to set his computer on the bed, giving me the side angle view of his dick.
"Jesus Christ!"
He closed the laptop first, nearly throwing it away from him onto the bed. He then hunched over. His hands pulled up his jeans in a frantic rush. He tried his best, but the panic of trying to conceal his erection in front of his daughter caused his zipper to get tangled up.
"Emily, give me a second, will you?"
"Sure, Dad," I said, smiling.
I couldn't help but let out a little laugh as I walked away.
*****
"Um, so uh... what did you see?" My dad asked once he composed himself.
We both sat on the couch in the living room.
"Nothing at all Dad, just you punching that snake in your pants."
My father's face with beet red. I had to admit, though it was certainly awkward to walk in on my dad beating off to amateur porn, it could be worse. Not that I'm objectifying any member of my family, but at least he was pretty good looking. A full head of wavy, dirty blonde hair, a lean, muscular frame... plus that cock.
I blushed a little myself, I couldn't get the image out of my head.
"Look, I'm sorry you had to see that - but what's say we keep this incident from your mother. She's stressed out enough as it is about taking the time away from work to go on this trip. I'd hate to spoil her vacation."
I smirked at him. My dad always had the cavalier attitude, a sense of humor many found off-putting. It had rubbed off on me, and I couldn't help but take the opportunity to needle him a little.
