I've been trying to seduce my father for months now. I know it sounds fucked up, but I've wanted him for a long time. And I know he feels the same way. In fact, I know he used to have sex with my older sister, Caroline, so he has to want me too since we're practically identical: tall and lean with our mother's bright blue blowjob eyes and full lips. The biggest difference between us is that she wears her dark hair in a pixie cut while mine is sunshiny blond and hangs wavy down my shoulders.
See, just after my eighteenth birthday, my parents left me home alone for a long weekend for the fist time and I snuck into their room to snoop. Under my dad's bed, in a box labelled 'tax information,' I found a whole stack of DVDs with random, meaningless names scribbled on them. When I popped the first one into my computer, what I found shocked me.
My dad – six foot four, tan, muscular, with salt and pepper hair and a jaw that could still cut glass even at forty – with his cock buried hilt-deep inside of my older sister. I only caught brief glimpses of her contorted face, but she has an unmistakable tattoo on her ankle that I could see with her legs wrapped around our father, a butterfly that she'd gotten after he first year at college.
God, that video got to me. My father's wild, animalistic thrusting. The taut and sweaty muscles that knotted across his back. My sister's weak, almost reverent moans every time he slammed into her with a heavy grunt. It didn't take long for me to work through the entire stack of DVDs, sneaking into my parents' room while they were at work in the evenings or while they were out on the weekends.
Those DVDs lodged something deep inside me, something that sent me shivering every time dad glanced my way and left my panties drenched after nearly every night we spent together, watching movies and playing board games like normal fathers and daughters do.
I knew I needed to wait patiently. Since I turned eighteen two years ago, I've been wearing progressively shorter skirts and deeper cut tops, relishing in it every time he glances at my exposed 32D cleavage or the curve of my thong above my low-rise shorts. After my sister moved out to live with her fiancé, presumably cutting off our dad sexually, he's become increasingly more obvious in his stares and his 'accidental' brushes against my ass. That's the problem with being divorced, I guess. There aren't a lot of ways for him to get off besides getting himself off. Sometimes I hear him at night or in the shower, moaning loudly when he thinks I'm asleep.
I've been waiting for my time to strike and this is the week. My sister Caroline, who's five years older than me since mom and dad had her by accident pretty young, is finally marrying the oblivious fiancé after years of dating. It's a destination wedding in Hawaii and dad, a successful lawyer, is putting everyone up the five start hotel where the ceremony will be. I'm supposed to be rooming with one of the other bridesmaids, but I'll figure something out.
When we arrive after an uncomfortable plane ride from our home in New York, the whole gang piles into the lobby of the hotel. Everyone's there – Caroline and her fiancé, bridesmaids and groomsmen, and a handful of close extended family that dad is personally paying for – and dad leads the pack like he always does. He places an authoritative hand on the front desk and gives a golden smile to the Hawaiian receptionist. "We have a reservation for this week under 'Hayes.' The Presidential Suite and six regular two-person suites, I believe."
The receptionist taps at her computer for a moment and grimaces. "I'm sorry, sir; it seems there's been some kind of mix up. We only have five additional two-person suites and one single-person suite available for this week."
Dad bites back frustration. He's kind and soft and accommodating, but he also expects the best at all times. He turns to the group of expectant faces with a small laugh. "Sounds like someone's going to have to give up their own bed. Anybody want to sleep on the floor?"
I see my opportunity to strike, smiling internally at the plan that immediately blooms in my mind. "I can stay with you, daddy. I don't mind the floor and I wouldn't want to kick any of our guests out."
Caroline cuts in with a thankful but doubting expression. "Are you sure, Claire? I could always-"
"It's your wedding, Car." I nudge her gently on my elbow. "I want all of you to have to best time possible. Plus, it's not like I'm going to spend all my time in the hotel with that amazing beach right outside."
So, with that settled, we go in shifts up the elevator. Since dad and I are on the top floor, we head up last. I beam at him once we're alone in the elevator. "This is going to be such an amazing week!"
"It sure is. You won't mind sleeping on the floor?"
"We can alternate." I elbow him in the ribs, half-joking. "Or we could always share the bed."
For a split second, his green eyes rove over my body. I'm wearing a thin floral dress and no bra, my cleavage and hard nipples obvious with the cool Hawaiian breeze moving through the hotel. He says exactly what I want to hear. "Sure, if you really don't mind."
"Of course not!" I swiftly throw my arms around him and plant a kiss on his stubbly cheek.
"It'll be just like when I was little."
He chuckles, clearing his throat as my breasts rub against his arm. "Yeah, I'm sure it's going to be great."
I remove my arms from around him when the elevator doors open and a couple walks in, eyeing us suspiciously. When we leave the elevator and walk down an empty hall, dad offers to take my suitcase, shuffles ahead of me, and fairly obviously covers a hard-on with his messenger bag. I pretend not to notice but smile to myself at the fact that I've already caused him to get around, just by rubbing up against him for half a second. God, he really is sex-deprived. Hopefully I'll be able to change that before the wedding.
Dad lets us into the small suite – a full bathroom, bedroom, and a sitting room – and I plop down onto the king sized bed's silky white covers. As dad ducks into the bathroom, I call out, "We definitely won't be cramped sharing this bed!"
His voice is a bit strained, holding back arousal, as he replies, "That's good, at least. Why don't you take a nap or go tan with some of the girls? I need to grab a quick shower."
Grinning at the idea that he's probably going to jerk off to the thought of me while I'm lying only a few feet away, I say, "Sounds like a great idea. I'll try not to get burned too badly or you'll have to help me lotion up tonight."
He doesn't reply but I hear him inhale sharply at the thought. Then, a second later, I hear the water running. Noticing that he unintentionally took my suitcase into the bathroom with him, I smirk and push open the slightly ajar door. He's already in the shower, thick cock sticking straight up against his toned stomach, but I pretend not to look at him. We walk in on each other in the shower at home, so he doesn't protest as long as I keep my back turned. "Sorry, dad, I need to grab my bikini if I'm going to tan on the beach.
