Molly Finds Her Dad

Under me, on her back, knees pressed into her pillowy breasts, covered in sweat, grunting every time my cock hammers her cervix, my sweat running off, pooling on her alabaster skin. She howls, her eyes locked on mine. "Harder, harder, damn you, fuck your sister harder."

She's not my sister; I don't have one. This is her dirty fantasy. I pull back, flip her over onto her front, pull her hips up. She's panting, face pressed into the hotel sheets. "Oh yeah, from behind, doggie me, bro. Mom and dad will be home soon."

My hands move over her soft skin, around her hips, cupping the blades of her pelvis for leverage; I push in, she groans, cums again. I feel the head of my penis moving into her cervix. It has to hurt, but it's what she demands. Her moans a mix of lust and pain.

"I'm gonna cum, sis."

Muffled by Hilton cotton, "Breed me, bro. Give sissy a baby."

I bury myself and enjoy my release. Hot jets; her orgasm wrapped around mine. The best part of the night.

She collapses on the bed pulling her red, abused vagina away from me, our combined climax running out. A naked body brushes past me, gently pushing me out of the way. A man, skinny, with an average cock, rampant and dripping. Kyle, her husband. He flings himself at her, rolling her on her back. She's limp, spent. He dives in, pressing his mouth to her sex, cleaning her, our orgasms with his tongue. He pauses, face still against her pussy.

"Thanks, Jim."

I pat him on his tight little ass; he likes that. "No problem, boss. See ya in the yard tomorrow."

As Kyle cleans his wife and gets ready to fuck her ass, I slip on my sweatpants and tee; slide my feet into my untied sneakers. I'll shower at home.

It's warm down here. It's always warm when it isn't hot. Opening the door of my truck, I look at the five-story hotel and wonder how many rooms hold people cheating on their spouses or, like Kyle, asking other men to fuck their wives. I slide in, smiling, start the big Ford up and pull out. I'll bet it's more than I think.

Since this is a sex story, I'll describe myself. I'm Jim. I'm thirty-six years old, single, divorced. My hobby is my body. I'm no mirror worshipper, but after a very rough time when I was younger, it became my therapy. I'm six foot even, 180, with 15% body fat. I run, lift, train in Krav Maga. I've got brown hair and eyes, no facial hair. I shave my body and fuck another man's wife while he watches. My cock is close to nine inches long when fully erect. It's thick, and it's got a big smooth head. It's what I was gifted with.

On the interstate, near my exit, the phone goes off, just a number, no name, spam. I let it go.

It's late. I shower and crash. Six AM is early.

Monday. I hate the alarm. My clothes are laid out, Carhart pants, old faded, company tee, stained, torn, tall steel-toed boots. I'm blue-collar through and through and proud of it. Over my coffee, I unplug my phone, a voicemail. Looking at the clock—I'm late, it waited this long, it'll wait longer. I've gotta change the tracks on that antique D9 dozer today, and it's gonna be a bitch.

I park my F250 diesel and climb out. Kyle comes out of the office, neat in his chinos and company polo. "How's she doin today?" I ask.

Kyle smiles. "Be in bed all day, smiling."

I laugh. "Well, she did ask for it."

Kyle claps me on the shoulder. "And we both know she will again."

At coffee time, I step away. The voicemail was from that number last night. I'm curious.

"Um, hi. I'm Molly Stark. I'm looking for James Conners. This isn't legal or court shit. I'm his daughter. So, um, if that's you and you want to, I'd like to talk to you. Thanks."

I sat, leaning against the huge tire of a front-end loader, and stared at my phone. Molly, my daughter. Back then, she had been my whole life, my greatest joy. Until. She'd be twenty-two now. I haven't seen her since the divorce six years ago, after the trial and my acquittal.

The rest of the day dragged. I need to answer her. After what my ex said, I don't know what to expect. How'd she find me? Why bother looking for me? Maybe revenge for things that never happened?

Five O'clock, in my truck, the call ringing. Voicemail. It'll have to do for now. "Hi, this is James Conners. Yes, I'm your father. Call me." I ended it, didn't know what else to say.

After an hour and a half at the gym, still no answer.

As I pulled up my long driveway, I saw her leaning against my old Jeep. The setting sun shadowing the curves of her body.

Dammit, she looks just like her mother did at that age. Tall, curvy, long sun-bleached blonde hair, small on top, no, not small, just not huge. Nylon shorts pulled up tight, a tank top, hint of her nipples. The full-sleeve tattoo was different. I stopped the truck, shut it off, and walked toward her. She straightened up, finger combed her hair. I stop bout ten feet away, watching her hands; she could have a knife. She stood tall and straight like I taught her.

"I'm sorry to stalk you and kinda trap you, but I wasn't sure you'd talk to me. I found out a lot of things in the last few months, and that's what drove me to find you."

I stood, arms at my side, waiting, still not sure. Molly took a breath.

"Mom's dead. Her and shithead, the guy she left you for, died in a crash about four months ago. I had to clean out her estate, and I found a lot of papers, and when I cracked her laptop, I found out more. I found out you're not the man I was told about. You're the man I remember as a teenager. Can I get a second chance?"

I made tacos. Fast and easy. Molly talked and talked. I listened. We ate on the screen porch, looking out on the pool, four acres of field ending in trees. No neighbors. Telling me what she found out, and I already knew because I lived it. Tyra loved money and sex. I worked day and night to feed that need for money, but I couldn't be home at the same time. She took a lover, wealthy, controlling. I was accused of molestation, put on trial. Molly tricked into saying things that she wasn't sure of. My name dragged through the mud, beat the charge but not the bad rep. I went from super dad to scum.

I moved away, changed my name to Conners, started over at thirty. The look on Molly's face when I left was like being gutted. Now she's sitting across from me, nearly crying. She stopped at the end of her tale of discovery.

"So, dad, was any of what mom claimed true?"

"No. Frank ruled her, and she liked that. Divorce wasn't good enough for him. He had a need to destroy. He couldn't destroy me, but he wrecked my life. I had to leave town, legally change my name, and start over.

"I was surprised and scared when I got your call. I know what you were told. But the faint chance I could be part of your life was worth the risk. I would never have been able to find you. I'm glad you found me, but I'll be damned if I know how."

She smiled. "It wasn't easy. I was getting nowhere until I literally hooked up with a geek. It was the price for his skill. Sex with him was amusing, but this was his best lead. I looked at that number for over a week before I made that call."

I stood up. "I'm glad you did. Can I get a hug?"

She leaped up and collided with me; in that instant, six years evaporated. Taller now, a little more filled out, she was my daughter.

We hugged for over a minute. She cried gently on my shoulder, snuffing the words, "I'm so so happy. I love you so much, daddy." I finally released her. I wondered when she would bring up the duffle tossed in the back of the Jeep and the absence of a car.

She stood, a lady now, not the lanky teen I had to leave, biting her lip, wiping the tears from her eyes. "So, dad.." I loved hearing that word again. "I used up whatever money I had or found in the house getting here."

"You took a big chance."

"Yeah, it really was an all-or-nothing long shot."

I smiled. "I've got a room. You still remember how to drive a standard?" I taught her in the backyard.

Back in my arms again, hugging me like she wants to be inside me. I feel a warmth that has been missing but also the stirring of a long-lost desire. I need to control that.

She lay her head on my shoulder. "How long can I stay?"

"You don't understand; this is your house, our house. You live here as long as you like."

Molly hugged me and cried, soaking my shirt, hugging me, mumbling, I love you, over and over. My life was whole again.

We stood on my, well, our screen porch, hugging. Only the tiny light over the stove in the kitchen. I finally let her go, our faces inches apart. The guilt in me raging. I need to stay in control.

"Hey, I have to get up early, and it's getting late for this old man."

Molly took my hand in hers, Small, delicate, but firm. "Not old, dad, mature. Just the way I like my men."

My daughter turned and walked into the house, leaving me stunned.

Molly brought her duffle into her new home, walking by me, standing in the living/dining area, into the second bedroom, her bedroom. My daughter's bedroom. It wasn't much, pretty spartan. I decorate like a man. The house is a work in progress; I bought it cheaply and have been making improvements as I go. Three bedrooms, one floor, two bathrooms.

I was in the master bath, a pretty fussy way to describe a small space. Naked, I was about to turn on the shower when a spot on the communal wall glowed. Taking out the old cabinet, I'd punched a hole in the wall. I'd forgotten about it and never noticed until now. I stared at the hole. I would be able to see the entire room. The room where my daughter was getting ready to shower. I'd only seen her naked once, a fleeting glance, long ago. No, I can't. Too risky. I could wreck everything. It's a small hole. If I turn the lights out...

Molly was at the mirror, just panties. Her breasts were perfect. More than a handful, but not much, pert, no sag. Her panties; worn, tired, sagging. She moved to her right, her lush hips pressed against the counter until the corner of the counter was between her thighs. My penis grew. I was naked. Molly put her hand to her mouth to muffle her groan as she pressed her cotton-covered sex into the corner of the counter. Up and down on her toes as she pleasured herself. Her nipples grew long, so very long. She pulled them with one hand, the other still in her mouth. The panties dark now with her excitement. I'm stroking my cock, uncaring of the risk. I've never watched a woman masturbate, and now I'm getting the best show a pervert dad could want. I grabbed a clean sock and put it in my mouth to muffle the panting.

Molly gripping the counter with both hands now. Pushing hard, racing to her orgasm, her eyes straight ahead. Is she looking at me? Does she see the small hole? No, no way. I'm edging now, holding off; I want to cum when Molly does. She gasps, clenches the counter. At her apex, a flow of clear fluid on the counter. My daughter cums a lot. I release my cock; I have an idea. Molly slips off her panties. She's shaved, standing there; she looks like she did when she was sixteen. I step away, take my shower, wait.

Dry and still naked, I hear her leave the bathroom, her door clicking shut. I wait. Five minutes, I'm in her bathroom, her clothes piled in the corner. The soaked panties on top.

My penis is harder than ever. Molly's panties pressed into my mouth, tasting her lust. I watched her fill these, and now, I can taste my daughter for the first time. My darkest secret, my deepest shame. I was close to acting on it once but held back. If Tyra ever found out, I'd be in prison now.

I cum like a fountain. I cum a lot anyway, but now, with her in my mouth, it's stronger, longer, and so, so good.

I sneak back, toss them on her clothes in the bathroom. I wanted to cum in them; bad idea, bad daddy.

I'm in the kitchen. It's early, still dark; coffee burbling away. She set the timer on the coffee maker. A sandwich in a Ziplock, my thermos full of iced tea. A post-it stuck the sandwich bag.

"Thank you, daddy. I love you."

I nearly cried.

I leave a note, a card, and the keys to the Jeep.

"Welcome home. The Jeeps yours. If you want something with a roof and doors, I'll get you one. Keep this card; go get whatever you need, no limit. I love you, Molly-moo."

My nickname for her in a past life.

Kyle noticed my change in mood immediately. I brushed it off, said I'd met someone I knew once. He smiled and, like a good friend, left it alone. After a long day, my shower was a welcome relief. I'd been thinking of her all day. My cock half-hard revisiting, watching her, smelling her, tasting her. Now I had my erection in my hand, my fingers wrapped around, wondering what it might feel like. Knowing I'll never know. Happy though.

In my mind, her riding me, me. Her wet, warm flow pouring over me. 'Oh, Molly baby, daddy loves you so much."

As I release, did I say that or just think it? How loud was I?

I rinse the river of cum off the wall. I have to be more careful.

Molly was on the couch as I came in. She was blushing, mumbling. "You, um, got a text."

Fuck. Kyle. We had an appointment set up for later tonight. I flicked the screen to the text. A picture, as usual. I need to lock this thing now. Kyle, naked, hard, Bonnie tied to the bed naked. "She's ready for you." the message. Molly's embarrassment made it obvious. She saw it.

"I've got an appointment."

Molly, half ignoring me. "Yeah, sure, okay. I was gonna make dinner. I'll save you some."

"Thanks." As I head out the door, embarrassed but very needy. Janet's going to get the shit fucked out of her tonight.

Molly said nothing about it; nothing changed. She got a job at Target the next day. She made me lunch every morning with that post-it or something else cute. I was in heaven. But conflicted. The next night, I watched. Naked, hard, peeking. Molly masturbated on the corner in new Victoria's panties, soaking them.

I thought the show was over. She slipped off her soaked panties and, as the water warmed, reached into the cabinet. A suction cup dildo, big, pink long, realistic. My daughter stuck it to the tile, and as I watched and masturbated, she fucked herself, making no attempt to be quiet. I came once, didn't go soft, and came again before Molly had a gasping climax. She looked at the wall. I pulled back. I shouldn't be doing this; it's dangerous. She's older now, more worldly, she could figure out her wonderful dad is actually a pervert.

My sexy daughter repeated that show every night, and I snuck in and borrowed her soaked panties. It was dangerous, but that made it even more exciting.

Friday night, we were out next to the pool, a few too many glasses into Jose. Guard down, like talking to an old friend. Talking about work and the weekend. The conversation lapsed. Tree frogs sang in the woods, the pool filter burbled. Molly rolled her glass around, looked up, caught my eyes. "It's none of my business. I'm so incredibly thankful and happy. If I'm out of line, say so."

I took a drink. I knew. "Go ahead. We're both adults here."

"How many?"

I smiled. "Just one."

"Is he there? When you're...?"

"Yes."

Molly smiled, then laughed lightly. "That, father, is fucked up."

"Not always; sometimes, I'm on top."

She nearly pissed laughing. Doubled over, gasping, she looked up, smiling. "This is wrong; you're my father. We shouldn't talk about this, but I can't help it. How?"

I was just drunk enough. My mind full of the wrong thoughts.

"It started at my first company Christmas party. My boss Kyle. He's forty, has a cute thin, redhead wife with a roving eye. She trapped me in a corner of the hall and talked to me, pressing her body against mine. It had been a while for me, so I, um, reacted. Janet pressed against me and gasped...."

Molly smiled. "Why? She was trying to seduce you."

I blushed, mumbled. "Size."

Molly blushed deeply but smiled. "Oh, that."

"Janet's eyes went wide, and she put her mouth to my ear and said, I need that. I pushed her away. No way, you're married to my boss. I walked away, went outside. I was on the patio with my beer when Kyle came out. I sighed, figuring my new life was off to a great start, getting fired in my first two months. He was direct. 'I want you to fuck Janet. I'll be there but not participating. If you're not interested, please do me the courtesy of keeping this to yourself.' He walked away.

"I'd heard of this stuff but never experienced it. I thought about it, and Monday, I saw Kyle and just said, 'tell me when and where.' He smiled and said, Janet, is going to be so happy. I'll text you.'

Molly had on loose shorts and that same tank top with no bra. It's her around-the-house clothes, and they drive me nuts. It was dark, and the outside lights were off. I saw her hand on her thigh moving up to the hem of her shorts. I had running shorts and a jock. I have to. No shirt, too fucking hot. I continued.

"So, a day later, Kyle sent me a text, actually a picture. I went over to his house and made Janet very happy. That was my first."

Molly waved her hand, sloshing tequila. "Ohhhh no, no, no. You're not doing that. I want details."

"Um, Mol, I know we're both adults here, but I'm your dad, and I'm not comfortable with that. You've said you're, um, experienced, so I'm sure you know what happened."

Molly was looped, and whatever filters she had were gone. I'd never seen my daughter drunk. It was cute.

"Experienced. Nice dad. Not sure if I like that, but yeah. I got 'experienced' at sixteen, almost seventeen. I stuck my nose into your life, so let me return the favor."

"You don't have to. I don't need to know."

Molly looked into my eyes. "I want you to. I've never told anybody about this part of my life.

"We moved into Frank's house. He was a creep. I heard them sexing it up every night. Then he started touching me. Nothing serious; I was a virgin, but not a dope. I left. Mom didn't care and didn't know why. My friend Bonnie's family took me in. They were amazing. Not really wealthy, for sure. I had to share Bonnie's room and bed."

Molly took a long drink and a deep breath. Still looking down. She was pretty drunk now, her body swaying. Her hand up her shorts leg.

"One night, Bonnie and I lay in bed. I was so lonely. I asked her for a hug. The hug turned into a kiss, and by morning we were lovers. I tasted my first girl and had my first sexual experience."

Molly looked up into my eyes. "We made love every night. I would lick her, and she would lick me. We explored each other's bodies. She got a fat carrot from the kitchen one night, and we lost our virginity."

I stifled a laugh. Molly frowned. "It's not funny, father. It was a signal event in my life. Don't be a doofus."

She took another drink, back to looking at her glass. "I'd had something inside me. I liked it. I wanted the real thing. I wanted a cock."

Molly was into her story. I watched her hand slip under the hem of her shorts. It was dark, but there was just enough light to see her hand moving.

"Bonnie's dad was handsome, older than you, but that's no surprise. He was very tactile but nice about it. I wanted him to be my first.

"It was not easy. He fought it all the way. He'd hug me, I'd feel his cock surge, and he'd pull away. I snuck out at night and listened to him fucking Susan. I got Bonnie to listen too, then we'd go back and have sex.

Molly had her eyes on mine now. She was hitting the story hard, watching to see if I stopped her. Challenging me. I smiled and said nothing, sipping my Jose. Molly's fingers were up the leg of her shorts.

"I was a sixteen-year-old virgin. Mom, after what happened to her, had me on the pill. I hinted, teased, flashed him. He smiled, I saw the bulge, but he did nothing.

"Then, one weekend, Susan and Bonnie went to see Susan's mother. She was in a nursing home an hour away.