As far back as I can remember, I've had a thing for older men, so I guess it was inevitable that I'd eventually develop feelings for my father. What I wasn't expecting, however, was just how intense and explicit those feelings would become.
I first realised I was genuinely attracted to my father when I was around 18. It had been three years since my mother left us, running off with another man, leaving Dad to raise me and my brother (who's two years younger than me) by himself. Anyway, I was 18 years old, and was going through all the regular teenage things - raging hormones, boys, the end of high school, hormones, body image issues, hormones - the works, and one day found myself really, really studying my father while he was cooking dinner...his face, his body, everything. He's a rather beefy man, always rather muscly, thanks to his work as a labourer. He kept his dark hair short, with a simple, rather conservative cut. Always clean shaven. And his brilliant smile manages to brighten up even his dark, soulful eyes. Thanks to all these features, it's easy to understand that Dad had no problem finding dates after Mum left us; it was keeping them that was the hard part. Dad always claimed that nobody he dated was as interesting or genuine the way Mum had been when they first met. So he'd just stop calling.
All this was on my mind as I was watching him cook dinner (steak and salad, nothing fancy) this one night when I was eighteen. And it slowly dawned on me that I wasn't just focusing on him in a "He's so handsome, so why can't my father get a proper girlfriend?" kind of way...when I began wondering how hairy his chest was, what his back felt like without a shirt on, I felt a familiar feeling in my crotch that could only mean one thing. I tried to deny it at first, attributing it to a typical teenage overactive sex drive, but I knew that was bullshit. Finally, I admitted the truth: "Holy shit, I'm actually fantasising about Dad?!"
Of course, I kept this to myself at the time, and struggled through tea and the rest of the night, doing my best to be normal. Definitely the hardest part was saying goodnight to him. We were a fairly affectionate family, so saying goodnight involved a kiss, usually a quick peck on the lips. Leaning over to kiss Dad goodnight that night, I smelt his scent more than ever before, relishing the warm combination of his deodorant and "a hard day's work" sweat. When my lips gently met his for the briefest of kisses, it felt like an explosion in my stomach. An explosion that set my crotch on fire. "Night-night, Daddy" I quietly muttered, and almost ran off to bed, my face feeling as red as a tomato.
Needless to say, that night was a restless one. I couldn't get to sleep, I was too busy arguing with myself about whether I was insane, too horny for my own good, or perfectly normal for having sexual thoughts about my father. I tried asking myself "Alright, fine. What if he came in your room right now, telling you how much he wants you? Would you seriously be fine with that? Would you tear off your skimpy little pyjamas and take his cock in your mouth?" Based on what my hand was doing in response to these thoughts, yes I would. I discovered the joys of masturbation relatively young. The first night I came properly, I must have been quite loud, as my Mum came rushing into my room, asking if I was okay. I assured her that I must've just had a bad dream. Since then, I've always been incredibly silent when I've cum. That night, fantasising about Dad propositioning me, I had four or five of the most intense orgasms I'd ever had till that point. It was a struggle to keep silent during those ones, I assure you. I managed, though, and sleep then came quickly.
Now, as you may or may not have guessed, I'm a rather shy girl. So of course, I never told anyone about my lustful thoughts about my father...unless you count Google? The next night I began investigating what people thought about sexual relationships between girls and their fathers, and how normal or not normal it is. One of the many things I learned from that night's internet session was the word "incest." A word that, even if you didn't know the meaning of the word, still sounds so sexy, naughty, and forbidden, doesn't it? As for what else I discovered that night... A fair amount of people are against incest, labelling it as unnatural and disgusting. But that didn't bother me; the people think that about interracial couples or gay people are ignorant, so they're probably the same kind of people speaking out against incest. But I kept searching for what the internet had to offer in regards to incest. I found porn, message boards, erotic stories much like this one, chat rooms, and countless other sites in support of incest. So when I went to bed that night, I had one of the best, most guilt-free masturbation sessions ever, with only Dad in my thoughts.
For the next five years, my interest in my father never disappeared completely, but it seemed to come and go, like waves on a beach. For weeks on end, I could spend every night and day masturbating about fucking my father; the rest of the time, I wouldn't think about my father at all, let alone sexually. Kissing him goodnight/goodbye eventually got easier, and he has never asked me about that first goodnight kiss where my face went redder than it ever has before. While I can safely say I never stopped loving and wanting my father, after about a year of not being interested in anyone but him (without me ever trying to admit my feelings to him), I decided it was time to give up and try settling for some guy my age. Many guys came and went, but I never felt any kind of spark for them...not the way I felt that spark for my father the first night I lusted after him. Throughout those five years, I did everything I could to get to know my father the way you would any other partner - I started to get interested in his favourite bands like Pink Floyd and Creedence Clearwater Revival; I'd join him on the couch when he'd watch one of his heist/crime movies; I started asking more detailed questions about his work and the people who worked with him; and I volunteered to help out around the house to make it more even.
In between all my public attempts to get more acquainted with my Dad, I lurked, I chatted, I posted, and I role-played on various taboo-themed websites and chat rooms, in addition to masturbating to a wide variety of incest-themed porn; have you ever seen Taboo 2? Holy hell, it's fantastic! People always ask me: Did I try to peek on Dad, catch him in the shower or spy on him masturbating? I sure tried, but never succeeded in the least. As affectionate as we may be, we're also a very reserved (repressed!) family, and there was never any openness about nudity the way other families seem to be. Eventually, Dad gave up looking for another girlfriend altogether, I graduated high school and got a fairly okay-paying part time job, but never moved out of home (unlike my younger brother, who moved out the minute he hit eighteen, pretty much). If anyone asked me why I was still living at home with my Dad, I would keep telling them I was trying to save for a house deposit, but it's so hard with housing prices just getting more and more expensive. How much truth there was to that varied by how hard I was trying to seduce my father.
So now that you know pretty much my life story til that point, I'm sure the guys reading this are curious to get a description of me. Well, I'm 5'6", 65kg (143lbs), with wavy light brown hair that reaches midway down my back. My skin is rather pale (and very prone to sunburn), but it's been described many times as being very silky-smooth all over my body. I've been blessed with 12D cups (Australian; 34D in American and UK sizes). I usually like to keep my pubic hair Brazilian waxed, but I have been known to keep it lightly trimmed, as well. During the time this story's set, I was getting waxed regularly. And with that out of the way, back to the story.
Apart from being a very hot day, even by Australian summer standards, it was a Friday like any other Friday. I had the day off work, and Dad was off at work until at least 5pm. I was experiencing one of my more frequent "incest phases" as I had come to call them. I awoke around 11am after having a late night and couldn't be bothered getting dressed. After breakfast, I turned on the computer in the living room, and got straight to business - incest videos. It seems the internet has become more accepting of incest since I first started looking; the sheer amount of incest-themed porn has grown dramatically! Sure, it's mostly step- this and step- that, but you learn to take what you can get when it comes to very taboo fetishes.
Anyway, this one Friday, I had stumbled upon a particularly impressive father/daughter video - he was amazingly handsome, with a very impressive cock, and she was cute and bubbly. They were obviously (bad) actors, and the dialogue was forced as hell, but I didn't care and let myself give in to the fantasy. The video's stars had amazing chemistry, and the whole thing looked very natural. He was calling her names like "princess" and "Daddy's girl," and she would only call him "Daddy" or "Dad." The way they kissed was great, too...very passionate, open mouthed with tongue. The video went for about 25 minutes, and I was engrossed in every second of it. Watching this girl grab her Daddy's cock, jerk it slowly before putting it in her mouth, where she eagerly began sucking it in deep, quick motions, I couldn't help but slide my bikini briefs off, slide my nightie up a little and begin masturbating. As I had since the very first time I tried it, I rubbed my index and middle fingers side-to-side across my clit hood. I marvelled once again at just how smooth I felt down there, not to mention just how quickly I had gotten wet! I leaned back in the sturdy chair as I watched this girl's father guide her to the bed and slide his cock into her wet, young pussy and I rubbed my clit faster and a little harder. Most unlike myself, I moaned a fair amount in the build up to my orgasm. The camera had zoomed in, such that it only showed the father's big cock pounding his daughter's pussy while she repeatedly cried "Daddy, fuck me!" I imagined that I was watching footage of my father fucking me, moaning along with me while he pumped his beautiful cock in and out of me. My first orgasm that day was intense, and very prolonged. A light sweat broke out on my forehead as I shuddered, my stomach tightened and my legs twitched repeatedly. I kept rubbing my clit even faster, riding the orgasm wave to the very end. After what felt like an eternity, I looked at the video player and was shocked to see that only five minutes had passed since I started watching the porn clip. So I went for orgasm number two.
I didn't take my eyes off the monitor as I briefly stood up and took my nightie off entirely. I slid it over my naked body, my breasts got caught briefly on the nightie, resulting in a little bounce when they were freed. My hair floated briefly in the air before landing softly on my back after I threw the nightie on the floor. I quickly sat back down and resumed masturbating immediately. My right hand never left my soaking pussy, stimulating my clit with what was an incredible speed, even by my standards. With my spare hand, I squeezed my breasts whenever the father would squeeze his daughter's, or I'd just rub my stomach and breasts and occasionally stimulate my nipples until they were hard. The video, which seemed to be shot in only one take, was a testament to the father's incredible stamina. He kept fucking his daughter hard and fast in many positions for the duration of the video. The second time I came that morning wasn't quite as intense as the first one, but it was still intense enough to make me feel quite sweaty. Sweaty enough to need a shower, actually. So I paused the video at about the half-way point and left to clean myself up (and perhaps get a bit dirty) in the only shower in the house. It was only about 12; Dad wasn't due home for at least another 5 hours, so I figured it was safe to leave my discarded clothes next to the computer desk for now.
