Taing Mommy's Place

All characters are at least 18 years of age.

In Episode 1, I related the events after the death of my mother in a car crash on my 18th birthday. My fear that Daddy would try to harm himself because of his deep grief led me to start sleeping in bed with him. I came to realize that he needed me to take my mother's place in every way, a thought that both shocked me and thrilled me. Daddy, to his credit, never ever made any inappropriate advances. In fact, when I tried to "help him out" he resisted - vehemently at first, but eventually it led to... well, maybe you should read Episode 1 before you read this.

The morning after: I woke up, naked, cuddled up against Daddy, who was laying on his left side, snoring. Was last night real? Had my Daddy and I had oral sex? The thought was just too delicious and too good to be true. Lust coursed through my body. I knew I wanted and needed more. Would he agree to do it again? Would he let me suck his big Daddy-dick again and swallow his delicious Daddy-load? Would he suckle his little girl's breasts and lick my virginal pussy until I came in his handsome face??

I had saved myself. I had always gone to church. Mom had always made sure that we did and she emphasized being "a good girl" and saving myself for marriage. Daddy had always at least given lip service to all she said. He, too, believed in church attendance and living a moral life. I bought into it. I knew that I wasn't supposed to have sex before marriage.

I knew, too, that incest was looked upon as a perversion, and there were biological reasons for that as well as the fact that it was a deviation from cultural norms. But I grew up believing that sex is not just an animal impulse, but an expression of deep love. Well, who do you love more than your family members? I loved my brother and my Daddy more than any males on earth. Even when I had crushes on other guys, I didn't have that deeply embedded trust and lifelong love. Besides that, they were both so handsome and treated me like a princess.

After Mom's death, when I started sneaking into Dad's bed to make sure he was not doing himself harm, I began having sexual fantasies about my Dad, especially after he would roll over in his sleep and fondle my breasts with his hard cock against my butt.

Then "the incident" happened. Upon awakening and realizing that I had just had oral sex with my own Dad, I had all kinds of thoughts running through my head. I desperately wanted him to be okay with it and I envisioned having a full-fledged sexual relationship with him -- at least oral sex.

I hugged Daddy, noticing that he had put his boxer shorts back on, apparently after I fell asleep. He snorted and rolled over to face me. I kissed him - just a peck on the lips. He smiled, sleepily.

"Honey, please put some clothes on," he yawned.

"Why, Daddy?" I asked as I stretched, thrusting my breasts out to make sure he saw them. Even after last night's attention, they were eager to be sucked and licked again.

"Honey, it's not right. Last night was a mistake," he said as he got out of bed and, without looking back, trudged to the bathroom.

'Is he fucking kidding?' I wondered. All this build up and anticipation and he thinks it's going to be a one night stand?

When he came back into the room I was still totally naked, laying as provocatively as I could. He looked and I saw the interest. Maybe not lust. After all, I drained him well last night, but he couldn't ignore me.

"Pammy, please. Put your clothes on. Get a shower and we'll talk. Go. I'll make breakfast."

I reluctantly went to my bathroom and showered, then dressed in panties and a short tee shirt, my usual attire for bed or just to lay around the house if there were to be no visitors. Daddy had cooked up eggs and bacon and pancakes. I love pancakes! And coffee.

We didn't talk much during breakfast except for small talk. So, he didn't want to talk about it. Okay. What could I say? I wanted more. It didn't have to be intercourse. I wasn't even sure if I wanted that, although I desired it. I realized that he probably felt guilty. I should have, too, but I didn't. Not a bit.

Finally, Daddy blurted, "Pammy, you just can't be sleeping in the bed with me anymore. It's wrong. What we did last night was incest!"

I giggled, at which he looked surprised and a little peeved. "They say incest is best, Daddy!" I laughed, got up, and jumped in his lap.

He tried not to laugh, and tried to push me off his lap, but I bit his ear and stuck my tongue inside it. Then I tried tickling him. Then I kissed his mouth and he let me, but just for a few seconds. He got up, dumping me off his lap and I nearly fell in the floor.

"You have got to stop this, Pammy. I mean it. It's wrong."

"But I like it," I said seriously. "It makes me feel alive for the first time since Mom has been gone. And I know you like it. Tell me you don't."

I waited while he studied me. He looked at the floor, sighed, and sat back down. "That's the problem, Pammy. I like it. Even without what happened last night, I like it... everything. Being here with you. You sitting in my lap. Your short tee shirts. Your flirting." He stopped and tears came into his eyes. "You're so beautiful, and you remind me so much of your mother, and it breaks my heart."

I cried, too, and Daddy took me in his arms and I sat on his lap. I wanted him. So bad. I wanted him to love my body and make me feel good. I wanted him to take the pain away, and I wanted to take his pain away. I wanted to take care of him.

After breakfast, Daddy went to work. I had several chores I had to do and I had to study. Final exams and graduation were coming up. It made me sad to think of my mother, whom I had actually had as a teacher, not getting to see me graduate. I was near the top of my class, even with all the time I had missed. She would have been so proud of me.

Daddy was on my mind all day. Should I just do what he said? Just forget it ever happened? Could I do that? Could he? After last night, how could I resist him? It was so fucking good! And I know he loved it, too. Doesn't every man love a blow job? Especially when the girl will drink his cum? FUCK! I wanted more. I had to have more. But I could not be demanding. I could not argue with him. I had to just be myself!

We had take-out Mexican that night. Fajitas. My favorite! We ate and he cleaned up while I finished some homework. Then I put on an old nightie, one that I had probably quit wearing 3 or 4 years previous. I could barely get it on. It was almost uncomfortably tight and didn't even cover my panties. I don't care for thongs, much, but I wore the briefest bikini panties that I could locate. The nightie showed off my every curve. I looked fucking hot, if I may say so. My nipples were hard and I was horny and needy.

Daddy had the Braves game on and was sitting in his recliner. I started rubbing his shoulders. "That feels good, honey," he said, closing his eyes.

"Did you have a hard day at work, Daddy?"

"Not really. I'm a little tense because I'm behind. I can't seem to get caught up."

"Your muscles are tense. You need to lay down and let me rub your whole back."

At that he opened his eyes and looked up at me. He noticed the tight nightie and how my nipples were rock hard. He closed his eyes again and said, "Here is fine. It feels great, honey." I continued to massage his shoulders and upper back, but I could see, even with his jogging pants on, that I had affected him.

After a few minutes, during which time I made small talk with him about the Braves, I came around and sat in his lap. I could see and practically feel his eyes feasting on my body. The nightie was working its magic. My panties were wet and I wanted him to touch me. Fuck, I was horny. He could do anything to me. I didn't care. If he wanted my virginity, it was his. If he wanted a repeat of last night, that was fine, too. If he wanted to just kiss and hug and touch me all over, I could be satisfied with that, but FUCK I needed his attention.

I kissed his neck and ears and stroked his hair. He was motionless. Ugh! Was he not going to cooperate? I kissed his mouth, but he moved his head. I straddled him, grinding myself into his hardness through our clothing. He acted like he was watching TV. At least his cock was hard. I whispered, "I love you," in his ear, and he replied in kind. Straddling him, I raised myself up and, grasping the hem of the translucent nightie, with great effort lifted it over my head, throwing it in the floor. My nipples were as hard as diamonds and were practically in his face. I pressed my breasts into his face, desperately needing him to fondle, kiss, and suckle them.

No.

"Get up, Pammy. I mean it. This has gone far enough," he said angrily. I didn't like that voice. It scared me. I had never liked it when my Dad got angry; it was very rare for him to do so, and even more rare for him to be angry at me.

I got up. "Go to your room. Don't come back down until you wear something decent. This is stopping right now! Do you understand me?" He was shouting. I nodded and burst into tears.

I ran upstairs and closed my door. I cried and cried. I had disappointed him! I wasn't as good as Mom. I couldn't do what Mom did. It wasn't the same. He couldn't love me like he loved her. I was inexperienced. He had rejected me. He saw me as a kid. I had to admit that what we had was not real. I was so disappointed and so hurt. Daddy had rejected me. Maybe he still loved me? I knew he did, but not the way I wanted him to. I thought I could take Mommy's place, but now I knew that I couldn't. I never wanted him to forget her, of course, but I wanted to make sure his needs were met and now I understood that I could not fulfill his needs.

I made up my mind that night. I would still fantasize about him (how could I not?), but I would behave. I would wear thick, long pajamas that would not show my body. I wouldn't even kiss his cheek unless he kissed mine first or asked me to. I would try not to let him know how hurt I was. I wouldn't even mention it. Ever. My whole life.

The next few weeks were hectic. I finished school. Graduation came and went. My brother came in for the graduation. Based on how he had behaved when Mama died, I figured he would want to "play", and, even though I was still pissed at him, I was kinda wanting something to happen, too. But he brought a girlfriend with him, with whom I shared my bed for the night while he slept on the couch. I was fucking jealous. Was she getting it from him? She was sweet and we hit it off well enough, but they left the next day.

A week or so later, Daddy announced that he was taking me to the beach as a graduation gift, if I wanted to go. I had a summer job lined up, tutoring some struggling high school kids in math, but it wouldn't start for a couple of weeks. Daddy had a friend who offered him the use of his condo. I loved the beach, so I was very excited.

During these weeks, Daddy had not so much as seen my knees, except in a dress. He certainly had not seen my breasts. I don't wear dresses that reveal a lot of cleavage, so he didn't even see that. He never brought up our incident, and neither did I. I didn't sit in his lap and I didn't rub his shoulders. I was as chaste as a girl can be, except in my bedroom, where I masturbated nearly every night, almost always thinking of him. I kept telling myself to think of something else, even my brother, but no matter what, I kept coming back to how eagerly he devoured my wet pussy and what a massive and manly load of Daddy-cream he had given to his little girl. FUCK!

I realized that I needed to go shopping to go to the beach. I had not been to the beach in several years and rarely wore a bathing suit in public. We had a pool, so it didn't matter that my swimwear was old. But we were going to the beach! I needed swimsuits, maybe a nice sundress, and a nice dress to wear out to dinner. Daddy liked eating at nice restaurants with Mom, so maybe I would be his "date" to a nice restaurant when we went on vacation.

That got my mind wandering again. Being his date. Oh, FUCK! Being on the beach with him, wearing a new bikini! I had a good tan, already, from being out at the pool, usually when Daddy was at work. (Wouldn't want him to see me and maybe have a lustful thought!)

Daddy gave me his credit card and specified a dollar amount, so shopping I went. I found the nicest little short, black dress that was so elegant. It fit me perfectly. It was practically backless and it did show cleavage. Why not? It was on sale. I found a nice sundress that was more casual and somewhat less revealing in the front. Very pretty, though, and it was on sale! Then I looked at bikinis and one-piece swimsuits. I found a bikini that was exactly what I wanted. It was yellow and, for a bikini, fairly modest. I might get some stares, but it wasn't obscene. I also picked a couple of, more modest, one-piece suits. I could imagine Daddy admonishing me for wearing a scanty bikini to the beach, so I would be prepared.

As I was about to leave, however, I noticed a manikin dressed in the tiniest green thong bikini imaginable. I almost laughed out loud. Who would wear such a thing? I would have to get a wax to wear it, even though I kept myself very trimmed. Wow! Just imagining wearing it made me both nervous and excited. I tried it on. Pardon me, but I looked fucking good in it. I had never imagined wearing a garment this brief in public before. I would buy it and pack it and, if I lost my nerve, never wear it!

We drove to the beach. 10 hours. We listened to Alternative Rock (my favorite), the Braves (of course) and part of a book on tape that Daddy had gotten from the library. Something about the Lusitania. Pretty interesting. I'm nerdy enough.

My mind was wandering. I had made it a point to "behave" for over a month now. Now we were going to the beach. I was going to be laying out in the sun in a bikini. I certainly wasn't ashamed, but I couldn't possibly continue to abide by my own self-made rules of not showing Daddy any skin. And suntan oil - wouldn't we be rubbing suntan oil on each other? I knew that anything like that would excite me - would it also excite him? Would it lead to something? I couldn't get my hopes up.

After arriving at the condo, we went out to eat. Dad loves seafood; it's not my favorite, but I am from the South and I'll eat most anything fried. Daddy doesn't drink much, but on a special occasion or on vacation, he will sometimes have beer or wine. Mom always complained a little because she wouldn't touch alcohol at all. I had very limited experience with it, myself. Daddy ordered a beer and asked me if I wanted one. I must have looked shocked. "You're eighteen. Go ahead," Daddy urged.

"Sure, bring me what he's having, then," I smiled.

As we ate, I discovered that the beer tasted better than I had remembered. I probably had not drank over 4 beers in my life, and most of the time it was just a few sips. It seemed to taste okay with the fried food, though. Daddy ordered me a second one and, for the first time in my life, I learned what it meant to be tipsy. It felt wonderful! Daddy was laughing at me as he led me to the car. Of course the buzz didn't last very long, but it was still fun.

On the way back to the condo Dad stopped at the grocery store to stock up for the week. When we got to the beer coolers, he said, "you gonna drink any? I'll get extra."

I grinned. "Sure. Can we try different kinds?" I asked as I noticed all the different colorful packages. So we got plenty of beer. Daddy bought an ice cooler to take to the beach. Mom would not have approved. It appeared that Dad was planning on having a good time. That made me happy.

The next day found us at the beach. I was in my new yellow bikini (I wasn't sure yet about wearing the green thong) and was sipping a beer. Daddy had guzzled a couple. He and I strolled along the beach, allowing the waves to hit us, sometimes with a force strong enough to knock me into him. We held hands. It felt good. I felt wonderful.

When we returned to our beach chairs, Daddy lay on his stomach and asked me to rub sunblock on his back and legs. (Well fuck yeah!) I smoothed the cream on his muscular back, loving the feel of his warm, strong muscles under my fingers. Then I rubbed his legs, daring to rub between then all the way up to his trunks, which were gathered not far from his treasures. He rolled over and I rubbed the lotion on his chest, which just has sparse black hair and his very hairy, flat belly. FUCK, his tummy is so sexy!

Then it was my turn. Daddy popped another beer open and took a deep slug, then started rubbing my shoulders. How long had it been since he touched my bare flesh? It felt so good. His fingers felt so loving and so strong and masculine. He rubbed my whole back and, by then, I knew that I was wet. It wouldn't show, I didn't think, because we had gotten wet on our walk down the beach. Then he rubbed my legs, between my thighs and up to my butt cheeks right below my bikini. I was so turned on that I could barely stay still. He didn't know it, but I wasn't that far from orgasm. How did he turn me on this much??

That afternoon was so hot that we went to the condo to just sit on the patio, under the fan. We had some food and plenty of beer. Daddy wasn't drinking much because we were going out to eat that night. I drank 3, the most I had ever had in my life. I was tipsy and Daddy was enjoying it immensely. I was slurring my words. Daddy suggested that I take a shower and a nap to refresh me before we went out to eat. He also told me that we were going to a nice restaurant, so I should wear my new, nice dress.

"Are we going on a date, Daddy?" I was drunk. There's no other word for it. I was not used to drinking, at all, and I was really feeling it.

"If that's what you want to call it, sure," he laughed. "It's a date."

I got up to go shower. I ran into the side of the hallway and fell, laughing. Daddy came to see if I was all right. He said that he needed a nap and for me to come and get him if I needed him.

I stumbled into the shower. It was refreshing, but didn't totally sober me up. I had forgotten to bring any fresh clothes with me into the bathroom, so I dried off and stumbled out, totally naked. The door was directly across from Daddy's bedroom. His door was open, he was laying on the bed, and he was gazing directly at me.

"Oops," I giggled. "I forgot my clothes." I stood there a moment, but he never took his eyes off of me and he never said a word. I managed to go to my room, although my body was urging me to go to him. I suddenly felt sober, and very, very, very, horny.

I dressed in my little black dress. Looking in the mirror, I realized that I had never worn a dress that showed this much cleavage. 'Not as much as a bikini shows, though," I thought.

When Daddy saw me he actually whistled. "Pammy, you look beautiful," he said. He put his hand on my bare back, sending shivers of lust through my body, guiding me to the door.

The restaurant was so nice. Again, it wasn't really my favorite kind of food, but I let Daddy order for me, and it was okay. Daddy told me not to drink alcohol because he was having wine and probably should not drive. They started with some kind of nasty salad and then there was some kind of lobster dish, then some cheese bread, which is more what an all-American girl wants.

I noticed, or imagined, that Daddy was staring at my cleavage the entire evening. He was drunker than I had ever seen him. Not falling down drunk, not even as drunk as I had been that afternoon, but his speech was slurred and he wasn't trying to hide the fact that he was staring at my tits. When the waiter asked if we were having dessert, Dad laughed and nodded at me. The waiter smiled. What did THAT mean??