Forty-seven-year-old father, Joseph, sleeps with his 25-year-old daughter, Victoria.
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Author's Note:
As Literotica will no long accept true, incestuous stories, this is a fictional, incestuous story that Joseph asked me to write about him having an imagined, incestuous, sexual relationship with his daughter, Victoria. After his wife left him for another man, he started romantically thinking about having sex with his daughter. While masturbating himself and sexually fantasizing about Vicky, he imagined her naked and her having sex with him.
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Father & Daughter have Sex, Ch. 01
Father and daughter have consensual, incestuous sex.
After inappropriately, sexually touching and feeling my daughter's naked breasts and her naked ass while she seemed to be sleeping, Victoria showed me how she sexually felt about me having touched and felt her. Instead of being outraged that I had inappropriately groped her partial, naked body, aroused by my gropes, she sexually teased me even more. She wrapped her long, manicured fingers around my erect prick when my cock escaped from my pajama pee hole. Instead of telling me that I was exposed, pretending to still be sleeping, she slowly stroked me while masturbating me in her sleep.
Something that neither father nor daughter thought would ever happen, I had drunken sex with my daughter. Even though we were both inebriated, with us both sexually frustrated and horny, and with us sexually attracted to one another, the sex was not only willing between us but also consensual. Indeed, something so forbidden, yet, something so sexually exciting, I wanted to have sex with my daughter as much as she wanted to have sex with her father. Unplanned nor premeditated, inebriated sex between us just happened.
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I blame all that sexually and incestuously happened between my daughter and I on my ex-wife, Tiffany. Sex between us wouldn't have happened, had Tiffany been a wife and a mother. The sex between my daughter and I never would have happened if my wife had given me sex.
Yet, I blame myself. I should have known what she was by her chosen profession. She was a whore, a professional whore. My wife was a professional whore. Something that she'll always be, once a whore always a whore. Tiffany will always be a whore.
Sadly, a beautiful woman, strikingly stunning, she was good looking enough to have been a model or a movie star. Standing at 5'10" tall with long, lush, beautiful, blue-black hair and big, expressive, brown, beautiful eyes, she was as sexy as she was shapely. I loved her. I truly loved her, and I thought that she loved me. When I married her, I thought we'd be together forever.
Yet, with the both of us 22-years-old when we married, what she thought was love wasn't. Obvious to me now, Tiffany didn't love me in the way that I loved her. Hard for her to adjust to the married life, she was still attracted to the fast life. She loved fast men and fast cars while I just wanted a quiet life and a stable environment to raise our daughter.
My dream woman and my sexual fantasy woman wrapped in one package; I never loved another woman in the way that I loved Tiffany. I thought by marrying her that I could stop her from whoring around. I thought that once I married her, she'd be a faithful wife. I was wrong. Some people can't change. Just as I can't remove the spots from a leopard, some people will never change.
Tiffany loved sexually teasing men. She loved exposing herself to men. An exhibitionist, she loved undressing herself in front of them. She loved exposing her beautiful naked body to unsuspecting men.
She enjoyed showing her big, naked breasts, her black, trimmed pussy, and her shapely, naked ass to any man who paid her a compliment. Once a stripper, always a stripper. Even though I took the stripper out of the club, I was unable to remove stripping from her mind. In the way that she was once a whore always a whore, she was once a stripper always a stripper.
Earning her money by slowly stripping off her clothes and dancing around a pole from the age of 18-years-old, she worked as a stripper when I met her at a local, strip club. Normal strippers don't look like her. She looked high class.
She looked more like a call girl than she looked like a stripper. She was so beautiful, so sexy, and so shapely that she took my breath away. Turning my head, and with her out of my league, she shocked me when she accepted my invitation to dinner, dated me, and, then, married me.
Unsurprisingly, she had cheated on me throughout our entire 25-year marriage, the whore. Instead of staying at home, she was out with her friends every night partying, drinking, taking drugs, and having sex. Coming home with a pocketbook full of money that she hid all over the house, God knows what she did to earn that kind of money. No doubt, she prostituted herself.
Even the COVID virus couldn't stop her from going out partying. The sex between my daughter and I never would have happened had her mother stopped partying, stayed home, remained faithful to me, and had not left me. Sadly, even though she wasn't an ideal wife, she broke my heart when she finally left me to live somewhere in New York with her business manager, Eddie. She left me alone to live with my adult daughter, Victoria.
Bad enough of her to have abandoned me, her husband, but how could she abandon her daughter, too? Granted, Victoria was an adult but for her mother to leave without giving her daughter an address where to reach her, an email where to write her, or a phone number where to call her was just nasty. Taking me a long time to see who she was, clearly, Tiffany only cared about herself. Goodbye and good riddance, good luck to you.
'Bye,' I thought. 'Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out of our lives.'
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With my wife staying out late and partying with her friends nearly every night, she didn't get out of bed until 11am the next morning. By the time Tiffany had arisen from the dead, and hungover, Victoria had already left for work. An understatement, with her unable to stay away from the wild life, my wife wasn't much of a wife nor a mother.
Then, before our daughter even arrived home from work, Tiffany would have already gone out the door with her friends to party all night again. Never considering the welfare of her husband or her daughter, she acted as if she was single. Meanwhile, with my daughter and I paying the mortgage, the food, and all of the monthly bills, I supported my wife by stupidly giving her money for her to go drinking.
With many of her friends not even knowing that she was married and was a mother of an adult daughter, she acted as if she didn't have a husband and/or a daughter. With her always with men while entertaining them with her sexy and shapely, naked body, she acted as if she was on the hunt for a man. Forget about shopping for groceries, cooking dinner, doing laundry, and/or cleaning the house, all of that was on my and Victoria's shoulders. My wife acted as if she didn't have a responsibility in the world.
I loved my daughter and now that we lived together without the meddling interference, the constant aggravation, and the bickering of her mother, we grew closer. With the COVID quarantine in full swing, my daughter's company required her to work from home. With me already working from home, as if attached at the hip, we were always together. Sneaking up on me, and not a good thing for a father to feel about his daughter, I was starting to love my daughter as much as I loved my wife.
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Yet, not a bad life, a much better life without my wife, Tiffany, my daughter, Vicky, and I, talked, laughed, watched movies, and played board games. We had as much fun as a father and daughter could have without having sex, forbidden sex, incestuous sex. I mean, God forbid, safe with me, in the beginning and until much later, I never thought of Victoria in a sexual way. She was my blood-related daughter. I'd never sexually abuse her by trying to have incestuous sex with her. I couldn't even relish the thought of seeing Victoria without her clothes.
It was much later in our father and daughter relationship that I started to sexually think of my daughter. Now, whenever I masturbate myself, I masturbated over imagining seeing and feeling Vicky's huge naked breasts. I masturbated over imagining my daughter naked. I masturbated over her having consensual sex with me. Yet, even though I was sexually frustrated and horny, I controlled my sexual impulses. Instead of inappropriately touching and/or feeling my daughter's beautiful body, as if I was a teenage boy filled with testosterone, I masturbated myself.
With her having had plenty of boyfriends and dates before COVID hit, and with me feeling safe with her, I'm sure that my daughter never thought of me in a sexual way either. After all, I was her father and she was my daughter. Even though she was an adult, I was still her daddy, and she was still my baby girl.