Two years! Two years I had been having sexual intercourse with boys. I had lost count of how many times I'd fucked some guy just to let him get his rocks off and leave me wanting – no begging – for an orgasm. I knew I could have one, I'd been diddling myself with my middle finger for years, always finding the big "O" in the end. Just never with a boy. I was embarrassed to admit to such a dilemma to any of my girlfriends. They often bragged about how many times they came during sex. So far I was unable to crack the code. But things were to change very soon.
My friend Mike had just dropped me off at home – I live with my mom and dad – we had been at Mike's apartment having sex and, well, I always felt this way after sex with a boy I just needed to be alone to lament my inability to have an orgasm.
My father was home and sitting at the kitchen table when I walked in. He noticed me and asked if I wanted to join him for a bowl of ice cream.
"No thanks Dad." I mumbled.
"What's wrong honey?" He asked, suddenly concerned.
"Oh, nothing really..."
"Something's wrong baby let me help."
"Well..."
I had a very open relationship with my father, he knew I had been sexually active from my very first time, but this was a little creepy to discuss with your dad.
"It's kind of personal, you know?"
"No, not unless you explain it to me." Dad sounded as sympathetic as always.
"Well all my friends have, you know, like when you have sex..." My mouth was suddenly dry. "They have orgasms and, well, I don't..."
"You've never had an orgasm?" Dad asked in a level tone trying to make it easier for me to answer.
"Yes, I mean no, well I haven't."
Dad smiled, placed his hand on my shoulder in a consoling manner and said, "That's not unusual for a young girl. Your mom and I were together for over six months before she had one, why should you be any different?"
He made it sound normal. "But Dad, every time I begin to feel good the boys, well, they finish first and I never get to have mine."
"Oh I see." Dad seemed to understand my frustration now. "We used to call that 'quick draw McGraw'." Dad said with a smile.
"What do you mean Dad?"
"Well, the young boys haven't learned to make it last. They just hop on and off, happy that they have had the opportunity, not realizing that really good sex is about exploring your limits of endurance while maintaining the arousal of the libido."
"Wow." I mused, suddenly aroused to hear my father speak so plainly of such a prurient act. I smiled as I had a naughty thought; I bet my dad could ring my bell!
As I sat there listening to my father explain how two lovers should respect one-another, I became so aroused that when I stood up it was without any restraint of conscience. I put my hand between my legs and pulled my panties down and dropped them on the floor. Dad quit talking and just stared at me. I pulled my skirt up my hips and then reached for his zipper. In one practiced movement his pants were open and my hand clutched his meaty prize through the opening in his boxer shorts.
I stroked a couple of times and then mounted his lap facing him. He began to protest, but I covered his mouth with mine, tongues lapping and our breath huffing as I positioned my father at the opening to my sopping sex. I gave no thought to the fact that I still had Mike's semen inside me. I took a ragged breath and pushed myself fully onto his engorged penis. Dad had quit his protestations. I began to undulate on his lap, reveling in the salaciousness of our sordid coupling.
Dad became animated under me. Unable to sit still he leaned forward in the chair, forcing me backward. He stood up holding tightly to my lower back. I clung tenaciously to his neck, as he stood up more of him filled me, much to my delight.
Dad started forcefully penetrating me as he held me suspended in midair. Gradually increasing his pace, he was soon ramming into me with abandon. His breathing was measured and deep, his nostrils flared like a rampaging beast. I watched as the veins in his forehead looked like they could rupture at any minute, still he kept up the furious pace.
Then as if on cue a wonderful warm glow began to wash over me. Like a tidal wave of emotion cascading from somewhere deep inside my soul. I had finally found my orgasm – in the clutches of my own father!
I screamed out loud, "I'm cumming Dad, I'm cumming!"
Dad held himself fully inside me and I could feel his surging penis as he began squirting his seed inside me. As his ejaculation subsided he gently stroked a few times and then allowed me to lean back on the kitchen counter.
I kissed him passionately, not as my father, but as a lover.
"Oh Dad, I never knew it could be this way." I marveled.
"Honey, I have to say that I didn't know it could be so good either!"
"Oh my..." I began, but a wave of emotion coursed though me. Gasping, I exclaimed, "Dad no one has ever made me feel this way..." Then I began to sob.
"We better clean up, your mom will be home soon."
That night I couldn't sleep. Early in the morning, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster I was on, I crept to my father's room.
I stood above my father and wondered what he must think of me; what he was going to think if I found the courage to wake him up just to give me another orgasm.
I was losing my nerve. I started to leave when I heard Dad's voice, "What's wrong Baby?"
I was caught. I had to commit now. "Dad I need to talk." I said and walked quietly into the hall. I waited wondering if he would be willing to chance it with mom in the house.
He appeared in the doorway and gently closed the door behind him. "What's wrong?" he asked again.
Wringing my hands in desperation I had only nervous energy to guide me. "Dad I really need you, can you Dad? Please?"
With a look of concern over his shoulder he nodded his assent and led me downstairs, through the kitchen and into the garage. He motioned for me to get a sleeping bag that was hanging from a shelf against the wall. I grabbed it and handed it to him. He spread it on his work bench and lifted me onto it. I began cooing like a bitch in heat.
Dad pulled my pajama bottoms down and buried his face between my legs and I gasped as his tongue began lapping my clit. I reveled in his touch; his raw sexual prowess overwhelmed me. In moments I was thrusting my crotch against his face while holding onto his head in a desperate attempt to force it even tighter against me.
Then it began. I was cumming on my father's face! "Oh Dad." I exclaimed.
As we slowed, Dad gently rubbed my belly and thighs with his hands. I always felt so secure in those hands as a little girl. Now I felt the exaltation they could bring through a sensual touch.
Dad stood up and was visibly uncomfortable; his erection was at an odd angle in his pajamas. I giggled and helped him remove them and then, on tippy-toes I spread my legs, leaning back on the workbench.
Dad stroked himself and then moved between my legs. He dipped his knees to position himself at my opening, probed gently and then pressed up into my core. He stroked slowly this time, taking his time as if he was being more deliberate.
He moved his hands under my pajama top and began to knead my breasts. He rolled my nipples between his thumb and fingers, unlike when the boys did it, Dad really knew how to make a girl feel good.
I was really enjoying the gentle ministrations of my father, but soon I realized that what I really wanted was to be fucked senseless. Just as the thought occurred to me Dad pulled out spun me around and bent me over. I grasped the leg of the workbench for support just as Dad reentered me from behind. He pounded into me with a passion redoubled. I could feel the helmeted crown of his penis as it rubbed the bottom of my clit, but I wanted more so I undulated in time with his stroking. It was getting real good! Then his penis pulled too far out and when he rammed forward it slammed directly into my sensitive clit. I howled out in pain, but as I did Dad reentered me and pushed deep inside.
I began my orgasm as Dad began his. I gasped out loud, "Fuck me Dad, fuck me!" He rammed into me harder as he spewed his lascivious seed inside my tender belly.
Dad was exhausted. I was exhausted, finally sated. My lust for the big "O" finally fulfilled. We kissed and went to our separate beds.
My last thoughts were of what my father was feeling about our sordid coupling. Was he bothered by what we were doing? I felt nothing approaching remorse. I really felt elated about the whole idea that I could have really good sex with someone I loved, even if it was my dad.
I wanted to be with Dad again, but mom seemed to get in our way whenever I made an attempt. How in the hell do people have affairs and manage to get away with it? We live in the same house and it is damn near impossible to pull it off. I was lusting for Dad and was just about to drag him to a motel if we didn't find a way around mom. I know – we were cheating on my mother. But it just didn't seem that way to us, he was my dad and what we shared belonged to us, no one else.
Mike and I had a date for Saturday night and as usual we went to his place after dinner and a movie. We fucked like rabbits but the whole while I was thinking of Dad when Mike was between my legs. Then I began comparing Mike to Dad as lovers. Bad move. Mike was a real cute boy but had none of my dad's skills. I couldn't work up an orgasm and I left frustrated.
As Mike was driving me home I texted my dad saying "I need to talk."
Dad was waiting as I came into the living room. "Where's mom?" I asked, a little too obviously.
"Kitchen, cleaning up. You said you needed to talk?"
"Umm humm, remember what we talked about the other night?" I paused for effect.
Dad was clearly uncomfortable; as he squirmed he shook his head as a warning, then motioned toward the kitchen and held his finger to his lips, requesting silence.
Just then mom burst through the kitchen door and announced that her friend, Monica, had just had her baby and she was going to go visit her in the hospital.
The gods had smiled on us after all. Mom hurried out and said she shouldn't be too late. She hadn't cleared the driveway and I was on my father, stripping him bare.
Both of us naked on the living room floor, writhing and caressing, kissing as if we were long lost lovers, we melded into one-another.
Dad asked me if I had been with a boy. I nodded yes. He asked, "Is his seed inside you?"
"Yes" I demurred.
"But you still need me?"
"Please Dad." I pleaded.
He placed me on my back and entered me. We fucked, and I came three times that night. Dad was exhausted or I might have had more!
One weekend while my mom was away visiting family, I just stayed in Dad's bed with him. Life had become a complex series of relationships that Dad and I had to carefully manage minute to minute. Mike had dropped in on Saturday for a quickie in his back seat; I obliged him and then showered and had sex with Dad. I was getting an education. Dad taught me things that I never dreamed of, nor dared suggest to my boyfriends.
