Author's Note: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious and are eighteen years of age or older. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Fantasy Father
Chapter One: A Very Fleeting Thing
Emma was walking down the hallway on her way back to her room when she heard the strange sounds. They were coming from her father's bedroom. It was a woman and she was moaning―moaning loudly and uncontrollably.
Emma pressed her ear against the door. "Harder," the woman pleaded in a desperate voice.
Harder?
Emma wondered. Harder―her father must have agreed, because the woman started shouting, "Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes!" over and over, faster and faster, louder and louder.
"Fuck, it feels so good. You're gonna make me cum again," the woman cried out and then suddenly grew silent.
Again? What the fuck?
The only sounds coming from the room now, were the sounds of their bodies slapping together.
"I'm cumming!" the woman finally screamed out. And then, for the first time since she had been listening, Emma heard her father's voice―four loud, animal-like grunts and it was over.
Emma hurried back to her room and shut the door behind her. She flopped down onto her bed and tried to make sense of what she had just heard.
Nothing like this had ever happened when her mother was still living with them. Fighting―yes, she heard lots of that. Sex―no, never. It had been four years since she had left them, and as far as Emma knew her father hadn't been with another woman since―well, since a few minutes ago.
What's gotten into him?
she wondered.The thought of her father as a sexual creature had never crossed her mind, now it was criss-crossing every bit of it.
The moans and screams of the woman began echoing in Emma's head as she lied on her bed in the quiet darkness. Somehow her hand had crept down into her white cotton panties and was now gently rubbing her swollen little pussy.
She tried hard, but Emma couldn't suppress the image that was forming in her mind: the woman was on his bed, on her hands and knees. Her father was behind her, fucking her doggy style.
Emma was surprised and more than a little bit embarrassed about how horny she was getting. Try as she might, she couldn't help it―the desire was too strong, the need was too great. She pulled off her panties and rolled over onto her stomach. The middle finger of her left hand slid into her wet pussy from behind.
Her clit was screaming for attention, but its fate, at least for now, was to wait and sweetly suffer. Nothing in her young life had ever made Emma feel like this―so excited, so aroused, so alive. She wasn't ready to let it end, not now, not yet.
"Fuck, it feels so good," the imaginary woman in her father's bedroom said.
Fuck, it feels so good,
Emma agreed.
She plunged a second finger into her hungry wetness and let out a gasp. In her mind, she was now the one bent over on her father's bed. Her fingers were no longer her fingers, they were her father's hard cock.
In and out, faster and deeper, her father's thickness stretched her tiny little cunt. She had never imagined it could feel so good, she had never imagined any of this.
"You okay, princess?" her fantasy father asked her.
Emma looked back at him over her shoulder. "I'm okay, Daddy. I can take it," she assured him.
"That's my little girl," her fantasy father said. Then he grabbed her slender hips and began to furiously pound his princess's little, pink pussy.
"It feels good, Daddy," Emma called back to him. "Don't stop. I like it. I need it. I want it!"
The siren call of her clit finally became too powerful to resist. Like a magnet to steel, Emma's other hand was drawn down to her shaved mound and gave her aching little button the attention it was craving.
Emma's sexual dam was already overflowing, all it took was the slightest touch on her clit for it to give way and burst. A flood of sexual energy and raw emotion shook her quivering young body. Once again, Emma's head was filled with the sounds of her father grunting as they climaxed together.
*
The next morning her father was sitting at the breakfast table when Emma walked into the kitchen. He had the newspaper in one hand and a bagel with cream cheese in the other. The mystery woman was nowhere to be seen.
Emma poured herself a bowl of cereal and sat down on the opposite side of the table. "Mornin'," she greeted him.
"Mornin'," her father replied.
"Sleep well?" Emma asked, hoping he would reveal some details about what happened last night.
"Yes, I suppose so. And you?" James asked.
"Okay, I guess," said Emma.
"That's good."
"I had the weirdest dream."
"Is that so?" James replied, not looking up from the paper. "What was it about?"
"It's kind of personal," Emma said.
"Oh," James said and took a sip of coffee.
Emma tried to look him directly in the eye but his attention was focused on the day's headlines. "It was a sexual dream," she said. "It was so vivid, like it was really happening."
James was reading the paper as she spoke. "Uh huh," he replied. "That's nice."
"Dad!"
"What?" he said, folding the paper and laying it down on the table.
"You're not listening."
"Yes, I am."
"What did I just say?"
"You said you had a dream last night."
"What kind of dream?"
"Um . . . A weird one?"
"Lucky guess," Emma said. "Why was it weird?"
"You were falling?"
Emma shook her head.
"You were lost?"
"Nope."
"You were being chased?"
"I was being fucked."
"What?" James said, nearly spitting out a mouthful of coffee.
"In my dream I was being fucked by a man―an older man. Do you think that's weird?"
"I don't know," said her father. "I guess not."
"Even if he was quite a bit older."
"How much older? In his twenties? Thirties?"
"Older. He was old enough to be you― er, your age."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Well, it's just a dream" said James. "I don't know if it means anything."
