In a few hours I'll be married. I almost can't believe it. Dad's going to walk me down the aisle of the church to James, we'll stand in front of the priest, say and do all the things we have to say and do, and then I'll be James's wife. I'll no longer be Miss Kathryn Murphy, but Mrs James Walker. Sweet James. I'm sure he'll be a good husband and I've made the right choice in agreeing to marry him. I think. Getting married at 23 seems young I know, but when else am I going to meet a guy like James again? He's decent looking in that frat boy kind of way, well education, really nice and I hate to admit it, but he also comes from a wealthy family. Please don't get me wrong! I'm not a gold digger, I'm really not, but I know that if I marry James I'll always be looked after and that's so important to my father.
Poor Dad. The last 10 years have been hard on him. When Mom left I was only 13 and I thought she was a bitch, so I didn't realize how tough things were on Dad until I was a lot older. I was also a bratty teenager and not at all grateful for how hard Dad worked to raise me by himself. After losing his job managing a small car-parts factory four years ago, he ended up working as a barman in a restaurant. He's a great barman and takes pride in caring for his customers, but I know he could do so much more with his life if he wasn't always putting pressure on himself to look after me. It doesn't help that my college degree is useless in this economy so I guess it was a good thing I met James when I did.
There's a knock on the door and Dad calls out to ask if he can come in. The hairdresser and makeup artists we hired went 20 minutes ago so I'm sitting in my bedroom in front of my mirror with my long black hair perfectly styled to cascade down my shoulders. My makeup is all done, my eyebrows are neatly trimmed (just like my hair down below!) and I have dark long eyelashes that contrast gorgeously with the lip-gloss that highlight my full lips - perfect for kissing and, well, you know!
I look pretty. No, I look beautiful - I don't mind saying it. My tiara and long white veil are sitting on my head, and my slinky white wedding dress covers me from my knees to my waist. However, my breasts are exposed, as I haven't been able to pull up my dress over them yet.
I must have had my dress fitted when I wasn't ovulating, which I am now. My breasts expand slightly in size at this time of the month and I didn't factor that in when I first tried on the dress, which I wanted as tight as possible. It's stupid as this has been a problem I'm had all my adult life - I'm constantly alternating between wearing a large B cup and a small C cup. It's so annoying!
I sit up straight, smile at myself in the mirror, push my chest out to admire my slightly fuller than usual breasts and have a wicked thought. I call out to tell Dad he can come in.
"Katie, I just wanted to see how you were getting on... Jesus! Katie!"
"Oh come on Daddy, it's not like you haven't seen them before."
"Yes, but it's your wedding day sweetie. Not very appropriate."
I roll my eyes and ask him to help me pull my dress up. He's surprised that I won't be wearing a bra, but starts tugging up the back on my dress. And I'm right; he has seen my breasts plenty of times before. The past few years we have grown very close to each other. It's hard to describe, but we've become very affectionate and intimate. We've shared a bed on more than one occasion and we both sleep nude. Nothing gets said; one of us just slides into bed with the other and we drift off to sleep pressed up together. Sometimes I've felt his erection pressing into me. We greet each other with kisses on the lips and a few times when we've both had a few drinks we used our tongues to kiss a bit more deeply. And we're completely casual about going into the bathroom while the other is showering. I make jokes about Dad being tall, dark and handsome, but with a cute Dad-bod; he jokes about how I have his Irish lily-white skin, but my Mom's Italian curves and fiery attitude.
"God damn it Katie," Dad says as I suck in my chest deeply so he can pull my dress all the way up, "What's going on here?"
"My breasts are bigger than when I got fitted Dad. It happens to me when I ovulate. James and I planned the wedding for this time of the month so we could start a family on our wedding night."
"Okay, I see," says Dad as he finally pulled my dress up into place. "Katie, is this really what you want? To start a family so young? Hell, to get married so young? To James?"
I was silent for a moment while I thought about this. "I do want babies soon Dad, yeah. But James... I don't know... oh God..."
Dad walked around in front of me, knelt down and hugged me tight, "Katie, please tell me you're not doing this for me. I love that you still live with me and I'm happy supporting you."
I stoked Dad's face, "Dad, I know. But I have to grow up and move on. It's just that, James... I mean, he's really nice Dad, but he's so dull!"
"No kidding sweetie," Dad smiled sadly. "Tell me, does he look after you in bed?"
I know that may seem a weird question for a father to ask his daughter, but ever since I turned 18 we've been completely open about our sex lives. I tell him about dates and the occasional one nightstand, and he tells me about any wild stuff he sees at the restaurant, like the other night when a guy his age was feeling up a girl who was even younger than me right at the bar, and didn't even notice my Dad was there. Sometimes while telling each other stories we've laid down next to each other and masturbated in the same bed.
"Seriously Katie, is James a good fuck? I know you. You're my daughter and therefore you're constantly horny like me. So this kind of thing is important."
"James is gentle and generous Dad and I cum at least half of the time."
"Wow. Sounds amazing Katie," Dad smirked.
"Stop it! He's fine. He's just... he's only 25 and I prefer much older guys. You know that. I like men with experience who don't take being with a girl my age for granted."
"I would never take you for granted," said Dad as he started to stroke the side of my face, "And I would always make you cum."
"I know you would Dad," I smile sadly and hold his hand to my cheek. "James doesn't even go down on me."
"What the hell? What the fuck is wrong with him?" Dad shook his head in disbelief, "No Katie, no, that's just wrong."
"Dad, calm down. It's just not something guys seem to do these days."
Dad's hand dropped from my face and down to my knees in front of where he was kneeling, "Katie, please tell me you've had at least one man go down on you before."
"Dad, no. I guess not."
Dad ran his hands up over my thighs, pushing my white wedding dress all the way up to my waist, exposing the tops of my white stockings and my white panties. "Katie, there is no way you are getting married without having enjoyed the feeling of getting your pussy eaten."
"Dad, cut it out," I giggled as he pushed my legs wide apart and shuffled himself in between them. I made a halfhearted effort to close my legs, but he held them firmly apart.
"Katie, I'm serious."
"Daddy, you can't do this! I'm your daughter!"
"Oh my Katie. You just called me Daddy! You only do that when you get excited. Like the time I fingered you after your 21st birthday party."
"Oh my god Daddy! That was you?" He pulled my lacy white panties aside and twisted them around so they would stay pushed aside, with my pussy exposed. "I was so drunk that night."
"Yes, Katie it was me and you knew it too. Just like the night I came home drunk after loosing my job at the factory and you jerked me off on the couch."
I went bright red, "I had no idea remember that Daddy", I said as he kissed the inside of my thighs, "But this is different Daddy, this is taking things to a whole new level and seriously, I'm getting married in a few—oh God!"
Daddy ran his tongue up my pussy lips.
"Oh Daddy!"
I spread my legs as wide as I could and clutched the back of his head. His hands grabbed my hips as he licked up the length of my pussy a few more times. It felt amazing! And then his mouth covered my sensitive little clit as his tongue started to lightly flick over it. I cried out in pleasure and pushed his head gently into my pussy to make sure he stayed on the right spot. His hands left my hips and travelled up to the front of my dress. While he struggled earlier to get my breasts into the dress, Daddy had no trouble pulling the top down to free them again so he could delicately brush his fingers over my rock hard nipples.
I looked across the room into the long mirror on my cupboard door and saw myself: a blushing bride in a white veil, her breasts exposed and being fondled, her white wedding dress bunched up around her waist and her long legs spread wide apart with her father between them, his head buried in her crotch.
The sensation of having my clit licked and nipples touched, combined with the shocking awareness that it was my own father doing the licking and touching, was exquisite. I was getting close to cumming, arched my spine and let my head hang back to surrender to the pleasure. Fuck. How long have I wanted something like this to happen? How long have I been pretending that all the times I had fooled around Daddy was innocent and I didn't yearn for anything more?
My orgasm began to ripple up from my pussy and just as it started Daddy stopped flicking his tongue and pressed it flat and hard against my clit. That sent me over the edge. I screamed in ecstasy and wrapped my legs tight around Daddy's head as I had one of the best orgasms of my life.
Daddy lifted his head out from my pussy and smiled up at me, his face dripping with all the juices that had washed over him, "So I guess you enjoyed that babygirl."
I could barely breathe, 'Oh my God Daddy, that was amazing!"
"I'm glad you liked it baby, " he said as he lifted himself up and leaned in to me for a kiss.
"Daddy, no, my make-up!" Too late. Daddy kissed me hard on the lips and our mouths and tongues hungrily entwined themselves with each other. I could feel his light stubble on my chin and cheeks, and the taste of my own pussy in my mouth.
I heard a clinking and then a zipping sound and realized Daddy was undoing his belt and pants. He reached down between my legs and drenched his hand in the juices that were still pouring from my pussy. I was now super sensitive down there and gave a little yelp at Daddy's touch. His cock was out and pointing straight at my breasts. He stroked his cock with the hand covered in my pussy juice and soon it was slick and wet. Daddy then leant forward so his cock was hard on my chest, and pushed my breast together so his cock was pressed in between them. He then started rocking his hips back and forward so his cock would slide up and down between my breasts.