Memories with Dad

Thank you for reading my short story, I hope that you enjoy it. Mica xx Yorkshire, England

I was going to see dad. The weather was okay, it had just rained quite heavily and the roads were very wet, but, apart from some spray, visibility was good. I had the radio off, but set to Traffic News override, I hate distractions when I am driving, but traffic news alerts can be useful. The dual carriageways weren't too bad, little spray from the opposite direction, but the single lane roads were tricky.

I had about five miles of single track roads and then I would be there. It seemed all the traffic coming the other way was lorries, and their spray was blinding at times. I guessed the motorway was closed and traffic was diverting down this road. As I drove out of one lorries blinding spray, I was confronted with another, then another. It took all of my concentration to keep going, and I seriously considered pulling over at the next opportunity to let the roads dry a little.

As I drove out of one curtain of spray, I was confronted with a lorry coming at me on my side of the road. I slammed my brakes on, swerving as far to the left as I could, flashing my headlights. Crikey that was close, stupid, stupid driver. Just ahead was a layby. That had been too close, I pulled over and turned off the engine, lay back and closed my eyes. I'd give it an hour for the road to dry and hopefully for the motorway to re-open.

I rang dad's doorbell and opened the door walking in.

"Hi dad," I called, "only me. Horrendous traffic on the way over. Where are you?"

I looked around the house and couldn't find him, and then I tried the garden, oh there he was.

"Hello lovely," dad said as I embraced him, "finally you are here."

"Oh the traffic was awful dad, and the motorway was closed so all the lorries were diverting down the A road through the woods, visibility was almost zero. At one point I pulled over for an hour until conditions became safer. Anyway, I am here now."

As he embraced me I could feel his firmness in his trousers and it reminded of times in the past, times when mum was out and dad and I would go upstairs to his bedroom. Secret times, loving times. I would take my dress off and my bra and knickers, and dad would take off his shirt, trousers and underwear, and I would play with his dick.

I used to be so full of myself, how dad seemed like putty in my hands, how I would hold his dick, his skin so soft on the outside, yet inside it was so hard, how I would move his skin up and down, and dad would make moaning noises, all because of me. Sometimes I would make him spurt quickly, sometimes I tried to make it last a long time, perhaps playing with his balls as I moved my hand.

He always wanted me to use my mouth, and sometimes I did, but I preferred to use my hand, dad's dick was too fat to go down my throat. Sometimes I would sit on his face and make him lick me as I worked with my hands.

Sometimes I let dad penetrate me, pushing inside me, spurting his stuff deep within me. It was okay though, because I was on the pill, I had been since I was sixteen, and it was okay because mum never knew.

That was a long time ago, and I hadn't been with dad for a while now, and I was a little surprised that he had gotten hard, he was older now, I didn't think men could still get hard when they were old.

"Come on dad, let's get a cup of tea." I let go of dad and headed into the kitchen and put the kettle on, dad was standing behind me, and as I turned I could see the font of his trousers bulging out.

"I remember the old times Mary," he said, "you know, when your mum used to go out and you and I would go upstairs to my bedroom."

"Oh dad," I said, "it is good that you have those memories, but that was a long, long time ago."

"Don't you have those memories Mary?" He asked.

"Oh dad, of course I do."

"They are good memories, to this day I can see you naked on my bed, your hairy little cunny waiting for my attention."

"A long time ago dad, and no hair there these days. Right, let's grab a tea."

I turned and pulled two mugs from the mug tree, tea bag in each and then the hot water from the kettle. I bent forward to open the fridge and dad pressed against me, his hard dick in the crease of my bum. His hands started moving my dress up. Oh dad.

"Let's have a cup of tea first dad." I pushed him away and took the milk from the fridge, adding a splash to each tea.

"Come on dad, let's sit in the lounge and drink our tea." I took the two mugs and dressed around dad to the front room, putting a mug on each of the side tables by the settee. Dad came in.

"Come on dad, you sit there, and that's your tea, and I'll sit next to you."

Dad sat and I sat next to him, my dress flaring slightly as I sat, I smoothed my dress down, dad did not need any encouragement from me.

I sipped at my tea, still too hot, and put it back down.

"I remember those days so clearly," dad said, "you nearly always wore a dress then Mary, and you would pull it off and stand in your panties and bra. You looked so good, I wanted you so much."

"Dad, you had me every time that you wanted. Whenever mum went out, we went up." And it was true, I think he shagged me nearly as much as mum, and I could hear him and mum nearly every night. He would shag mum even if he and I had been in his bedroom just a few hours, or less, before. Their bed squeaked, the headboard banged the wall, mum would grunt and gasp. No, there was no doubt what was happening in their bedroom. I would rub myself to sleep as they shagged.

"Everytime? No baby, but often. I used to love to see your nipples proud on your boobs when you took your bra off."

"Well dad, I was quite proud of my boobs, and I am glad that you appreciated them."

"And then you would slip your panties off and I could see your tufty blond hair trying to hide the crack of your cunny, your lips slipping out, waiting to be used."

"Oh dad, really?"

"I could see your desire in your face. You wanted my dick as much as I wanted your cunny."

I tried my tea again, it was cool enough to take a sip, and as I did I slipped down memory lane, I could almost feel his dick inside me, I could remember how big he felt, and how I felt like I had power over men.

"Oh Mary, it seems such a long time ago that I last had your pleasure."

"Drink your tea dad."

It had been a few years. I remember him coming to my flat to help my plumb my washing machine in. Nowadays it is simple, I could do it blindfolded, back then I had no clue, and dad came and just did it in a few minutes, the only difficulty was connecting up the waste, but that was easily resolved, not that I could have done it back then.

"Your mum is expecting me to be gone for hours," he had said as the washing machine was going through its first cycle. "Perhaps you could show me your bedroom?"

And of course, I had, and my dress had come off and then the inevitable, leaving me dripping and dad drooping. And that had been the last time. I think mum came with him most times after that, and then I got a boyfriend and I started learning a lot more about sex. It is not that dad was not good, it is just that he was a little old school, a little set in his ways. Different positions, for example never occurred to him. The thought of a finger in the bum, or even his cock, would have horrified him. And if I had told him about ice cubes I think he would have simply died.

As I sat drinking my tea, my memories of trysts with dad flooding my mind, I began to feel a little uncomfortable, certainly moist and a little pulse was starting.

"I remember, Mary, how you would sit on my face and rub your cunny up and down my nose, the smell of your wet cunny, the taste of your juices as they dripped into my nostrils and onto my tongue."

Oh Lord I remember the feeling of his nose sliding along my valley, pressing against my entrance, how I tried to use his nose to shag me.

"I remember, Mary, your hands on my dick, pulling my foreskin so far down I thought that you would tear it and circumcise me. The pain was fantastic, it almost made me shoot."

And I had done that, I had wanted to see how far down I could push it, it was fascinating to me how his outside moved over his inside. Just at the base of the end of his dick was a joining strip of skin that attached his foreskin. When I pulled it all the way back his hard dick seemed to strain and almost go white. The end of his dick was red and purple, and often a small bead of white would show at the little hole in the end.

I would dip forward and run my tongue over it, it was salty and a little metallic in flavour, I always wanted more, but too often there was no more until he spurted. I remembered the first time he spurted down my throat. I was surprised, hadn't expected it, and it actually tickled all down my pipe inside. I should have expected it, but I suppose I thought he would warn me, not just do it.

"Oh Mary, you used to lick my dick, your mouth so hot when you took me in, I wanted to shag your mouth but we never did."

"You were too big for my mouth back then dad. You would hurt my throat."

"

And he did hurt, but it didn't stop him trying. He ejaculated in my mouth once with such force that it spurted out of my nostrils, that had not felt unpleasant, just more weird. I had to breathe through my mouth as I managed to clear my nose.

"Mary, I have missed those times," and as he spoke he put his hand on my left leg, right at the hem of my dress. I knew what was next.

He slid the hem of my dress up my thigh and discovered my secret.

"Oh Mary, no panties, oh my."

Indeed. I was not wearing knickers today, I rarely did these days. With a dress hem just above my knee there was little chance of accidental exposure, and anyway, what would anyone do if they caught a glimpse of my naked fanny? Exactly. Nothing.

"Oh Mary and a shaved cunny, such a delight."

His hand had found my crease and discovered that those blond tufts of my teenage years were long gone. His finger eased between my smaller inner lips and widened my crease, my labia folding themselves around his finger as he encountered my hot wet depths.

I couldn't help it, but I gasped at his touch. My memories flew back to the fist time he touched me there.

"I would love to see you" he had said after mum went to Grans.

"I am right here dad."

"I meant without your clothes on."

"Oh," that had been a surprise, "why dad?"

"Because it would make me happy, and I would like to make you happy too."

And I had said yes, and we went up to mum and dad's bedroom and I took my dress off. I was standing there in my knickers and bra, unsure what to do next whilst dad was undressing. I was of a legal age, but hadn't really thought about sex, I had not really wanted to even explore boys, so dad's dick was the first I had actually seen. It looked huge. I undid my bra and slipped it off, my boobs perky and high on my chest and then I had slipped down my knickers.

Dad went red in the face I remembered, and said "Oh my God girl, you are so much more sexy than I thought." Odd thing to say I had thought. I lay on their bed and dad came and knelt beside me. He had gently run a finger all around the outside of my fanny, and then ran it along my crease. My inner lips stick out a bit and as dad brushed past them, I started getting the electricals.

That day was my first orgasm and it overwhelmed me and from that day I was never slow to say yes when dad suggested we went upstairs.

"You are as hot as ever you were Mary," dad said as his finger pressed at my clitoris, my body jerking at the touch. I just gasped.

"Let's go upstairs Mary, like we used to."

It was difficult for me to say no, my desires overruling any thoughts that my brain had. I got up and climbed the stairs to his room. I undid the clasp at the back of my dress, pulled down the zipper, and stepped out of my dress as it fell to the floor. Back then I could have gotten away with no bra, but not now. My breasts, double D, had begun to lose their perkiness and had started to migrate down my chest. I wore a bra to help keep them up nearer my neck than my navel.

When my bra was off I looked across at dad, he had removed his clothes and his dick stuck out forwards. I remembered that a few years ago it pointed upwards, and now was more horizontal than vertical.

"Lay on the bed Mary," he said, and so I walked backwards to the bed, sat and then lay down. Dad knelt between my knees, looking at my fanny. I knew I was agape, my legs wide apart would have unfurled my fanny. I knew I was aroused and so would be wet, I expected that my fanny would glisten.

I pressed my head back into the mattress and closed my eyes. What would he want to do I wondered. I soon found out. A finger pressed lightly on my mound, just above my crease, and the slowly moved down. My clitoris throbbed at his touch and escaped its hiding hole in its sheath, slowly he moved his finger down between my lips, little pulses building as he went, my labia soaking wet and offering no resistance.

He found my entrance and a finger circled, I could almost hear the slurping as my fanny flapped, opening itself to welcome him, to encourage his finger to enter me, press at my womanhood, define me as what I was, his plaything.

Two fingers passed my entrance, through my opening and pressed deep inside me, his palm flattening my labia, forcing my lips apart. My pressures grew, I could feel my fanny pulsate around his fingers, my knees rose a little, my heels pushed down and my back began to rise.

"Oh dad," I gasped as he crooked his fingers inside me, stretching my fanny, widening me, readying me. His fingers eased back, almost out, but then pushed back in, filling me again, and again, and again, his fingers shagging his daughter towards an eruption.

I was rocking on the bed, pushing myself onto his fingers, my nipples hard and tingling with electricity. He paused and his fingers slowly withdrew, and he was over me, his dick pressing at my entrance, and he pushed quickly, and his cock, as fat as I remembered, filled me, stretched my fanny walls apart, pressed at the depth of my fanny, his belly pressing on me, his balls between my legs. My mouth made an 'O' and I gasped.

"Oh baby girl," dad said, "your cunny is as hot and tight as ever."

I wasn't listening, I was feeling, experiencing. My fanny stretched and sending pulses around my body, his dick pressing within, my buttocks clenching as he slowly withdrew, holding at my opening, my fanny returning itself to closed, and then he pushed in again, my back jumped up and my electrics grew, I knew they were ready to explode.

Back again, my fanny feeling void, then he was fully in, stretching me once more, my pressures growing and growing as he shagged me. Faster he went, his stomach slapping against me, my gasps following the slap, the bed, old now, rocking on the bedroom floor, the bang of his headboard against the wall as he drove into my body. Sounds all of a congress as old as the hills, older perhaps.

My gasping was at a pace now, gulping in air as dad built my pressures higher and higher. My mouth was still open, a perfect O, and then my orgasm erupted, my fanny clamped hard on his dick, my fingers dug into his back, my electrics burst forth, sending rivers of pleasure throughout my body, and as I lay there, back arched, unbreathing, dad filled my fanny, spurt after spurt flooding my womb, completing the congress between us.

I slowly relaxed back, my fanny released his dick and it slid out of me with a gurgle, and I felt his semen drip down into my crease between my buttocks. My breathing was still in gasps, and the aftermath of the orgasm had me smiling with the pleasures as I finally managed to get myself together.

"Oh shit dad. That was a big one."

"We can do this everyday sweetheart, now that you are with me."

I was puzzled, with him? I was just on the way to the cemetery to lay flowers on his grave.

I stopped. What?

"Baby," dad said, "you were killed instantly by that lorry on the wrong side of the road, he drove straight over your car. We have eternity together."

Oh. Shit. Everything went dark.

I rang dad's doorbell and opened the door walking in.

"Hi dad," I called, "only me. Horrendous traffic on the way over. Where are you?"