Daddy's Slut Girl

Growing up with a single parent, especially a father who is a world-renowned scientist, and computer genius, wasn’t the easiest thing for a girl to do, I can assure you. At age five my dad explained the differences between males, and females by the simple expedient: “Boy’s have a penis, girls have a vagina.” At age 10 he explained the facts of life to me by saying: “Women are the receptacles, and storage area that bear the offspring of all life.” Then at puberty, when my first period almost fried my brain with embarrassment he finally took the time to sit down and explain everything in much more simpler terms. With a dictionary in one hand, and the Kama Sutra in the other he just answered any, and every question I wanted to ask about sex.

I learned from the dictionary that a slut was a dirty, slovenly, slattern woman. That a whore was a harlot/prostitute. That a bitch was a female canine. And from the Kama Sutra I learned that a wife could be all of these, and still be a lady, and so much more. When the question and answer period ended, I knew then that women had been literally getting the shaft since time began, and had one last question to ask.

“What’s the real difference between a man, and a woman, daddy?”

“Men have a penis, Chrissie, and women have a vagina,” he replied. “Other than that sweet heart, there isn’t any real difference. And that’s the one thing that nobody understands.”

The epiphany that I had then was like being hit with a falling brick. Dad really was a genius. Because women had a vagina their plumbing was different than men, and made them more emotionally inclined in normal decision making, with a lower center of gravity, and breasts that were meant for nurturing offspring. Because men had penises they had a higher center of gravity, broader shoulders, and thought more from a logical standpoint when making normal decisions. Which meant that as far as having sex was concerned both male, and female were equal in stature irregardless of society’s moral standards.

I took a moment to share this epiphany with my father, and as a result my dad had me put on birth control that very week. “Not because I don’t trust you,” he explained, “but because I want to protect you as best I can from the results of making bad decisions in the future. One child around here is more than enough for me to handle alone.” He then bought me a box of prophylactics, and used a banana to show me how to put them on a guy while he explained the dangers of VD at great length before dropping the subject entirely.

Personally, I think it was the birth control pills that made my butt, and breasts grow out so fast, but I can’t prove it. In any event by the time I turned sweet 16 I looked like a walking advertisement for Jailbait Monthly Magazine, and at 17 was getting phone calls from Playboy to become a future centerfold. Of course I’m exaggerating, but just barely. I knew I was a hotty at a young age, and when every male within eye contact complained that I gave him a sore neck.

My silky long natural fiery red mane of hair I inherited from my mother, and drives most men to distraction, but their eyes bulge out at the rest of me. All of that time spent waxing my legs, and such nonsense as we girls go through to attract the opposite sex became essential to me once I realized that no one really cared that I had graduated with honors from college at the ripe old age of 15, and gone on to get my masters in psychology, and English, and computer science by the time I turned 18. Personally I think that my five weeks at beauty school during one summer break did more for me than all of the PhD’s in the world ever could have. I learned from my peers just what it really meant to be a woman. It’s a lot of hard work that’s a lot of fun to do. So I became a cosmetologist, and with daddy’s help at the age of 19 I soon ran my own beauty saloon.

I guess it was when I changed my hair color to strawberry blond though that I noticed daddy taking those sidelong glances at me whenever we were in the house alone together, and I was walking around in little more than my panties, and bra. I’d seen that look on many men by then, and I knew it as an unattainable hunger for my obvious charms. Charms that none of my dates had as yet earned the right, or my undivided time to allow them to sample. So it is hardly worth mentioning then that the only penis I’d ever seen in my life had belonged to my father, and that only because I’d hurried into the bathroom, and caught him taking a piss when I was very young. At that age it looked huge, and with my curiosity being what it is, I took every opportunity to sneak a peek at it that I could until he started to lock the bathroom door behind him. So it’s probably no surprise that all of my fantasies were wrapped around him the moment I became sexually aware of my own body.

Yet, here was my own father taking sneak peeks now at me, and I was enraptured at this new twist of fate. Of course I immediately began to tease his hunger by walking around in thinner, and next to nothing type of clothing for a while. Regrettably, I couldn’t go braless all the time what with these Mark IV torpedoes hanging on my chest. I needed the support just to stand up straight. So instead, I started wearing demi bras, and thongs. They cup the underside of the breast, and leave the rest exposed. That way he could see my nipples poking out through my clothing, especially when they got hard. In a see through nitey, and wearing thong style panties every night before going to bed, I was sure that I was driving daddy right up the wall. And then a new problem developed suddenly as daddy spent most of his time after I went to bed now in the bathroom.

I decided on taking a new tack at this junction, and brought out the short flannel nightgowns. Hiding the goodies true, but I was naked underneath. Now he had to look for moments of opportunity, and in so doing become more obvious about it. I could tell after a week of this that he was getting a neck cramp trying to look up under it whenever I bent over, or squirmed on the couch in front of him. Until finally I knew I had him hook, line, and stink finger. As fate would have it, we were watching 9 ½ Weeks. A very sexy movie that had me squirming a great deal on the couch, and giving daddy more than the usual open crotch shot. He was actually staring between my legs up my nightgown instead of the action on the TV.

“Like what you see, daddy?”

“Er… um…” he coughed then, “yes, it’s a very sexy film, isn’t it.”

“Yes it is, but you weren’t looking at the TV when I ask, daddy. You were looking up under my nightgown at my naked vagina. Weren’t you daddy?”

“You really should wear underwear, honey,” he scolded while trying to adjust himself at the same time.

“Does my body excite you, dad? Is that erection in your pants because of me, or the movie? Please tell me that it’s me, daddy, because right now I’m so hot for you that my pussy is sopping wet,” and I pulled up the hem of the flannel night shirt above my waist to show him my nearly bald, and still virgin snatch.

His eyes bulged out at my blatant display, and the tent in his trousers became more prominent. His fingers began to twitch, and he dropped his empty bottle of beer as his jaw dropped almost as far. His body trembling with wanton lust, as his eyes never left my weeping wet flower. His voice jumping up several octaves then.

“Baby… you… we… should…n’t…”

“Shouldn’t what, daddy? Look at each other? Touch each other? Love each other? What?”

“I… I’ve always loved you, hon,” he still stammered a bit, but his voice was almost back to normal.

“But wouldn’t your really like to MAKE love to me, daddy?” And I pulled the nightgown up, and off of me altogether so that I was now stark raving naked in front of my own father’s ogling eyes. “Your mouth says no, but your body says; maybe yes?”

“We… we can’t, Chrissie,” he was actually shaking all over there in his easy chair now. The movie forgotten as his entire attention was tuned my way.

I got up off of the couch then, and walked over to his easy chair leaving the nightgown on the couch. I bent over his chair using the arms for support giving him an up close and personal view of my breasts as I straddled his legs. He was totally speechless now, and near to drooling as his eyes ate me as if I were living candy.

“Why not, daddy? You know you want to, and I know you want to, and I want you to almost as much as you do, if not more. Here,” and I took my left tit in hand, and guided it to his lips, “take a taste, it won’t hurt, I promise.”

“This is incest, baby,” but his lips took hold of my nipple, and gently sucked it into his mouth.

“Yessss, daddy… it is,” and I pulled his head in tight to my breast as his tongue danced with my nipple making it erect as his penis now most certainly was as I squatted down onto him in the chair over top of him.

Until that moment his hands had hung limp at his sides, Zombie like as if his whole body was in some kind of a trance. But with my tit in his face, with him suckling at my nipple I suddenly felt his hands sliding up the outsides of my legs, and soon grasping at the globes of my ass.

“Oh yes, daddy,” I cooed in his ear, “now you’re getting the idea,” and I reached down between us to free the only penis I’d ever seen in the flesh.

I marveled at the velvety smooth veiny texture, the crowned head, and two handfuls of shaft leading to his kinky pubic thatch. I couldn’t see it in my present position, but just knowing that I was touching, even fondling it for the first time almost made me swoon right then. I can’t say that it was thick as I had nothing to compare it with, but my fingers did touch my thumbs when wrapped around it.

“Oh baby,” he groaned out around my titty, and he slid a finger into my vagina from behind causing me to shudder uncontrollably over top of him, “I’ve wanted you for so long…”

“And I you, daddy,” I confessed, and rubbed the head of his penis against my throbbing clit as his finger poked at my hymen, and his lips moved to suck at my other breast. “Mmmmmhmmmm.”

I was squirming now as I straddled his lap, the center of both our interests securely in my hands, and throbbing at the entrance to my wet pulsing vaginal cavity. Those lower lips slipper slick with my excitement waiting for the ultimate moment of our joining. I held my breath waiting for daddy’s finger to vacate my split seams, and when it finally did I sat right down on my own father’s cock taking it in to the hilt in one sudden move. The pain, like nothing I could compare too mixed in with the immediate pleasure of being spread open wide by my own father’s penis, cock, dick, prick, or what ever you personally call that tool of pleasure, caused me to lose my virginity, and scream out in raunchy, incestuous, orgasmic bliss.

“DADDYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

I came harder than diddling my clit ever could have made me. I was a ruined woman now, but blissfully so, and how daddy managed not to cum then as my pussy squeezed, clasping, and unclasping at his prick is beyond me. We were co-joined, daughter pussy jammed full of daddy dick, and loving every moment of it. I hadn’t moved since sitting down on his cock as all of my strength was sapped from my just doing that. I was dazed with little spots of flashing light going off in between daddy’s face, and mine. Thankfully daddy must have understood that I needed a few seconds to get used to having me in him, and waited patiently for me to continue. Once my vision cleared, and the pain in my cunt became a dull throb I saw a single tear running down his face as he starred openly at me as much in concern, as lust, and love.

“You… you’re a virgin?” His voice a whisper at best, his face again moving into my chest to snuggle at my pillow like breasts.

“Not any more, daddy,” I replied, taking a huge gulp of air for the first time since straddling him. “You just broke my cherry. Now I’m a slut. Your slut to be sure, but a slut nevertheless, daddy, and a dirty incestuous slut at that.”

It was amazing how filthy my vocabulary became now that we were united as one. And to make my point, I lifted my ass up, then down starting a nice in and out rhythm of that cock in my pussy. At once we were fucking, not fornicating, though that does sound almost as wicked, though mildly more acceptable socially speaking. But I wanted nasty, down in the muck, and mire dirty now, and to hell with conventionality. I was fucking daddy, and that’s what really counted now. And daddy must have thought so too.

“Oh yeah slut, that’s it!” His face pulled away from my tits. “Fuck daddy’s cock! I know you love it now!”

“Yesssssssss,” I hissed back, and we kissed as true lovers for the first time. A lip mashing, teeth clacking, tongue dueling lover’s kiss. His hands holding, me steady by fondling my titty’s as I bounced up, and down in his lap. His hips coming up to meet my down strokes now, and that squishy sound of cock stroking in and out of hot cunt filled the air as much as the scent of my yearning wet pussy, cunt, snatch, not vagina.

No, not vagina, we were too far-gone to call my fuck hole a pedestrian vagina now. Not when I was daddy’s fuck toy now, his personally plaything, and all around slut. And oh how I wallowed in my new status as we hurdled through the night like two shooting stars connected at the crotch by our unnatural attractions to each other.

The universe exploded around us as daddy gave a lurch, and his cock spurted deep inside of my soul taking me right along on this ride through mutual damnation. Our kiss continuing right through it all kept me from screaming out loud as I plummeted into the sharp jagged valley of orgasm riding daddy’s cock all the way down.

“Ooooh daddy,” I moaned after breaking that kiss, “we’ve got to do this again, and again, and again.”

“We will, slutty girl, we will.”