Dad's Dangerous Desire

I thought I had overcome my insecurities. I have become a thirty-five year old man of the middle class America. After settling down with a hard working wife and having a beautiful daughter I was all set to live my American dream: working to death while enjoying the finer luxuries of life.

Somehow I can not avoid feeling mediocre and the stress has gotten to me. I haven't been able to concentrate on my job; I've been procrastinating and even allowed myself to become isolated from friends.

I felt myself on the verge of an extraordinary mental change, perhaps even slipping into insanity.

I find myself with my young daughter's head resting in my lap... just the two of us alone in the house. As if fate were mocking me my wife is gone to work overtime, finding success where I have given up. She has no idea how discontent I've lately become with my routine because she is always at work.

My daughter finished high-school recently, but I could not find it in myself to congratulate her or celebrate her graduation. I never thought I could become so weak as to envy my own child, but I can't help feeling left out when she speaks about her hopes and dreams, the future and options of youth I can never relive.

I could not look upon her smooth skin and lithe body without becoming wholly irritated at my own obvious imperfections which inevitably accompany middle age.

I had before been especially proud of having such a beautiful daughter, the attention she garnered had made me the envy of other parents.

People would always compliment her beauty and I felt that she was the best parts of my wife and me.

If I had flawless glowing skin like hers, so unnatural that it can not exist outside the brief span of youth, I would not waste it lying inside watching television.

In a sudden spasm of anger I clench my fist around the remote and squeeze until the plastic begins to creak. I want to destroy myself, but lacking the courage to do so I fixate my rage on the objects around me.

My angelic Marcelle's blonde curls are suddenly far too warm on my lap, combining with my explosion of anger.I feel alone, alone amongst millions of other men who must share my fate: dissatisfied with easy and meaningless living and delirious to bring about a sudden and violent change.

Marcelle's perfectly round ass becomes the focus of my rage. There is a such thing as being too damnably perfect. Her scanty gym shorts barely complete their journey over her smooth firm buttocks. I remember the same shape in my wife years ago, but I am long accustomed to the developing cellulite and wrinkles.

Marcelle is sleeping in the fetal position like the baby she is, the drone of the television keeping her oblivious to my now heavy breathing. One of the shoulders of her small gray tank top has fallen to the side.

I imagine the soft pink nipples beneath the thin cotton. As she sleeps I set a hand onto her shapely hipbone and realize that my hand can almost entirely cover either one of her ass cheeks. I feel my cock pleasantly throbbing against the weight of her resting head. Even if my job is terrible, I can always feel good about my body, for I wasn't shorted when I was given my john.

I stare down at her passive face, at her rosy red cheek and think of it's companion underneath pressed against my hardening manhood.

I slap her buttocks loudly and she wakens. As she sits up Marcelle has the tiniest bit of sleep drool moistening her soft lips. I watch in fascination as a strand of drool oozes down to my jeans. She hasn't come out of sleep entirely, I fumble madly to unzip my jeans.

Hastily my large fingers work the zipper and I pop my cock out. Marcelle's opening eyes fixate on my hardening john. She stares at it, then me, for a long time. I read her expression, it is full of melancholy and disappointment, completely lacking life or surprise.

I find that I am the one who is shocked by her lack of emotion. She grasps my now limp john in a small slender hand and holds it.

She seems to know what I am, to read my mind. I am full of terror and shame as I feel her cold hand lightly squeeze my dick. I am reeling as I stare at her knowing face.

She lets out a small sigh and gets down on her knees. I watch in horror as her moves her head and her lips hover over the tip of my john. I feel her light breath over the head of it; for all my previous intent, I am unable to get erect.

Then she pops the tip into her wet mouth, and uncontrollably I begin to harden. She focuses only on my cock, her cheeks inverted with the effort of sucking. My daughter's beautiful blonde curls tickle my balls as her tongue and lips work around the head of my cock. I notice her head is rising to a higher position as my john is now fully erect.

I don't know where my beautiful daughter learned how to make men hard. With a sharp popping noise she removes it from her mouth and begins stroking it with her hand. While lightly stroking my dong she begins to caress my balls with her tongue.

I know it has been far too long since I have had release, and precum runs quickly from the tip of my cock along the underside. She buries her nose into the base of my dong as she licks my balls. My daughter wants me to cum. She is stroking with an intensity far beyond foreplay. She pops the tip of my dong between her sweet lips and continues stroking furiously while playing with my balls with her other hand. Her large eyes are almost cross-eyed as she focuses forcefully on my dick. I feel shame previously unknown because my daughter is a filthy whore.

I'm almost cumming, she gurgles as drool runs down my cock and over her quickly stroking hand. My hips involuntarily thrust and at the same moment she removes her hands and thrusts her head down upon my cock. I can't argue against the feeling of being enveloped in that soft warm slimy tunnel, my cock spasms hard and jism flows freely down into her stomach. She gags and I feel my fuck-stick hit the back of her throat. I watch her swallow hard several times in quick succession. I feel my balls draining with each glorious gush.

My head is spinning as I return down from nirvana. She takes off her tank top and gym shorts. I stupidly begin to protest or apologize but she muffles my speech with a firm and shapely teat. I don't want to notice how perfectly symmetrical and upright her breasts her. I want to run away but my legs are weak and useless after orgasm.

She strongly presses her breasts into my face forcing my head back. I feel her straddling my thighs now. I am babbling and incoherent as she rubs her warm teats against my mouth. She grabs the hair on back of my head and nearly suffocates me in her bosom. I feel a sticky warm liquid in my lap and realize she is beyond wet.

Gasping for air I realize she has gone back to playing with my spent cock. She is choking it at the base of the shaft and shaking it at a frenzied speed. My half erect dong is helpless in her grip, the tip whips in rhythm against either side of her fist.

She stops whipping my john as I become fully hard again. Before I can stop her she is squatting over my lap and guiding the tip of my massive dong into her bald pink cunt.

"Fuck me!" Marcelle cries. In one sudden motion she drops down and takes a third of my dong inside her. I think our eyes are locked but my mind is with my john, inside her incredibly tight and slippery cunt. A moan and whimper escape my lips. "Fuck me hard!" orders my daughter. I feel her round ass rest against my testicles. She thrusts her hips and my dong swabs the deep insides of her trap.

"Yes!" she screams. She is bouncing up and down, her tight cunt making obscene noises on my fuck-stick. The filthy whore loves my cock, loves fucking her Daddy hard. With each bounce I feel the tip of my cock brush the entrance to her womb. Her soft warm belly expands and contracts in the rhythm. She throws her head back and howls as she cums hard on my dick. Her tight cunt becomes unbelievably tighter as she cums. My balls submit and jism goes rushing down the familiar passage deep into her womb. My daughter doesn't stop fucking and laughing as I involuntarily thrust again and again, stabbing and spurting in her slit. Every last drop is gobbled up by her tight bald cunt.

I hear the garage door slam. My wife is home. Marcelle does not move to get off me and instead is fingering herself and licking cum off her fingers. My wife is about to enter the living room where she will discover us. "Marcelle, my love" I whisper.