Through all the fuss and muss, the chaotic first encounter, the repetitive second, the dastardly third. A pity, really, to be so useless at her age. So willfully accepting that I, her daughter can have him anytime I want.
Oh, Daddy Bear, I'll be with you soon. As soon as I bring these people up to speed, I will have you once more and the world will be a better place for it, you'll see.
I am Francesca Devlin, or Frankie Devil, to my many social media platforms. I pose for a wide range of photographers. Yet, as dead-end as all model careers are, I live in the NOW, showing my luscious genetic gifts to any and all with pretty pennies to dispense. The photographer wants to fuck me (which one? Any one.), his assistant wants to fuck me. Shit, the assistant's cousin's mother wants to fuck me. Am I that hot? Six-figure Twitter followers and a Facebook dripping with stalkers says 'Yes'. But my beauty will someday fade, twice as fast considering the depleted ozone, cancer in everything edible, Starbucks, the death of the honey bee. Little do these ogling, borderline pedophiles know that the source of my success is none other than the two advantageous people that brought me into this world: my parents. 19 years ago they chose to procreate so here I am.
Mom's a piece of work and Dad's a piece of ass; rock solid ass. I didn't want an Elektra complex anymore than I wanted to be an underwater welder, but 'them's the brakes'. I turn down the literal stampede of cock that is hurtled at me daily, both virtually and IRL. I feed them some excuse, that I'm either saving myself for some rich playboy type who will buy me a yacht, if only I trade my innocence; or I explain if the timing was right, they may have an actual chance. The latter is by far more devious, but the more they want to fuck me, the more I enjoy fucking with their heads. Secretly, I'm an all-accounted-for Daddy's girl, complete with incestuous affair and a willfully cucked mother. The pathetic sap sits next to me on the plane, thumbing a Readers Digest - a Readers Digest for fuck sake!
What did you see in this woman all those years ago, Daddy?
For a lady who sells posture and perky tits, poise and wet lips, I don't actually have a lot of free time. I'm young enough to where my metabolism does 99% of the work a personal trainer would, so I save money on that at least. I don't smoke because (1) it's gross and (2) my Daddy thinks it's gross and he won't "kiss an ashtray". I do drink. In fact, I stole one of Mommy Dearest's whiskey-minis and dropped it in my Pepsi. I'm such a lightweight, so it's still fun and not an issue, like it is with Ol' Mummsy. We fly first class so she can drink and so I don't get groped by a stranger while she's shitfaced. Don't get me wrong, I do love her, I just don't like her sometimes. I do have to share her husband with her. He is her husband, but that was the deal. She gets broken off with a constitutional fuck a few times a month and Daddy and I are free to clog the calendar with some quality alone time. I guess it's fair. Daddy gets a mistress; Mommy gets to not be lonely, penniless divorcee (thanks pre-nup); and I get to have more-than-consentual lovin' with a buff, dreamy hunk of a man. Last month, we were in Italy and I thought he was trying to get me pregnant how he fucked me so many times. Mom "stood watch", but really she just read a book in a chair next to the bed whole sweet Father-o-mine came in my pussy, like, four times. I caught her staring a few times but I've gotten used to it. We've all gotten used to it.
The flight home to Arkansas (I know, right?) couldn't have come sooner. It's been almost two weeks since Mr. Vincent Devlin played the plumber and laid some pipe, and I'm so damn horny I could cry. I want to make a video, maybe Mom could film it, of me and Daddy together, but Mom said it would be disastrous if the thing were leaked. Hacked, then leaked, as she put it. Damn the digital age. I would love a visual keepsake of our special times together, but the Cuck is right. I've got to protect my Daddy's image as well as my own. Rubbing one or two out to some homemade incest porn would pass the time quicker between our time apart, maybe make me less anxious.
So, being a particularly naughty super-sneak, I make my way to the airplane bathroom. All this thinking about Daddy has me wet and I will not go another second without handling it. Armed with my iPhone, I sit and pull up some delectable (and shameless) daddy-daughter porn. I always have to pass up a few low quality shitty-ass vids before I get to the good stuff. Of course, ever since I found Incestflix.com, I've enjoyed my alone time a little easier. Fifteen minutes in and my toes are curling, my hand clutching the phone steady, beads of sweat on my forehead. The girl in the video screams for her father to keep fucking her and I understand completely. I try to stifle my moans but an extended whine escapes me as I cum squirting all over the toilet and into my panties around my ankles as well (which is surprising because I'm not usually the squirting type). Blushing, panting and with legs like a baby deer, I begin to clean my mess, as I'm hoping not to have to explain a large puddle. A knock on the door.
"Sweetie, are you okay in there?" It's the Mega-Cuck.
"Yeah, Mom. Coming out in a sec." I do my best to use a large quantity of hand towels to soak up my shame, then open the door to see her and the attendant side by side. Separated at birth, these two. Both formerly gorgeous caucasians with no real trade skills to speak of. The attendant is probably a cuck too. I shrug off my extended stay in the bathroom and take my seat.
The plane lands, we retrieve our matching luggage (Aww, how cute?) from baggage claim, climb into a rental and to home sweet home we go. I play some Luna Del Rey until the Wifey decides she wants a word. "Francesca, I didn't want to tell you on the plane, since you were looking forward to... to seeing your father again, but he went out on some business this morning and won't be back until tomorrow."
What! You fucking twat, how dare you keep such privileged information from me.
"What? Why? Why didn't he text me?"
"He knows how you get. Plus he said he'll make it up to you. We probably know what that means." Yeah, he'll fuck my brains out but this was supposed to be special.
"But it's my birthday this weekend." I said, more spoiled and petulant than I meant to.
"I know. I gave birth to you after all." Don't remind me. "We both... pitched in as you might say, and I'm not going on a limb to say that the delay will be worth it."
"But--"
"No buts. He'll be back tomorrow."
Bitch.
Of course, it's not her fault. I know that. I am beside myself with anticipation over what the birthday surprise might be. I'm not impressed by cars, exotic animals, expensive jewelry, flowers; and I earn enough on my own to buy what new gadgets impress me. I can only assume it's of the sexual persuasion, but then, what does Cuck-a-saurus Rex have to do with it? Besides being involved in some sadomasochistic cum-play I've fantasized about, what role could she possibly play? The internet porn I've been watching has opened my mind to more sadistic ways I could enhance her cuckitude. Daddy fucking me, pulling out and blasting her face; Daddy fucking me until we both cum, then she licks his cock clean (which I assume has already happened at some point); Daddy fucking me until he blesses me with his cum, then I stand over her and let his glorious seed spill all over her rapidly aging face. The last of these considerations is a bit extreme even for me, but know cucking her ass is so hardwired into my sexuality, I'm afraid I might be ruined for other men. I'm willing to give him anal, but he says he has a wife for that.
I've researched our dynamic on the net in between shoots and school, and if you take out the whole incest element, mom is a cuckquean, Dad is a queanbull, and I am a cuckcake - a treat. Cuckcakes have been known to be dominant, making the wife a submissive wreck. We'll get there one day I'm sure, but for now it's actually fairly vanilla. Passionate, rough at times, but I feel he has been holding back, protecting his little girl. I like that he doesn't treat me like a sex doll; more like a doting father conceding to an extreme demand of a sexually spoiled daughter. Varuca Salt: eat your heart out. Sometimes I dress up all fancy, sometimes just a bra-less pink lace panties with pigtails. It works for both of us. The third time we were all in the same room (the third time Daddy and I made love), Mom rubbed one out next to us, so I know she gets something out of this too.
I wanted him. Sometimes after turning eighteen the inklings began, which then became itches, which became urges. I don't really know how nor exactly when, but I know it took way too long I tell him as much. My wires got crossed as young men my age were unappealing almost overnight. Not only did I leave behind twenty-something celebrity heart-throbs, I was repelled by other men his age and physique. My body wanted only one thing: the cock that brought me into this world. It was an undertaking to come to terms with it, even more to muster the nerve to ask. I found myself masturbating to his musky scent of post workout clothes, sneaking into my parents' room while he was in the shower. My toes curled, my stifled impish moans from his sweaty shirt between my gritted teeth, the delectable sin of release as I repeatedly whispering "Daddy" while cumming. Something had to give and I was at the crossroads to having him or leaving home.
Despite how I daydreamed the sleek and seductive it all would be, yet it was mostly tears, shameful apologies and begging on my behalf. The movies make it look so... cool, when young sexy women seduce the older male lead. They leave off the part where one practically throws a nineteenth birthday tantrum and demand paternal lovemaking. It wasn't until Mom intervened and gave her blessing that Dad reluctantly consented. Her argument was that it should better be him and not some STD carrying ape, but making me wait until 19 days after my nineteenth birthday was his contribution. He wanted me to be sure. I was sure. We talked more openly over the next few days, which became jokes, which then became flirting, which morphed beautifully into downright desire. He wore a condom the first time, which was lame and I told him as much. If you're going to fuck your nineteen year old daughter, you go all in, right? Yet he, ever the mentor, wanted to tout the virtues of safe sex. Such a Dad, then he stuck it in and fucked me like I owed him money.
My dildo I used up until I fucked my father was three-quarters his length and half his girth. Needles to say my petite pussy was demolished but I loved it. He made me bleed. A real man, A safe man, to be my first. I was so shy and afraid I wouldn't please him and boy was I wrong. We went all night. His girth pushing the elasticity of my vaginal walls to their limits and beyond. My tight virgin cunt never ceasing to stay wet for his masculine onslaught of virility. It did hurt, people. The man is a fucking machine and I thought I could feel his cock pushing my lungs aside but we got through it. The second time I took more control and rode him slow. He really took his time, touching and exploring my taught young landscape, groping me as we came together, our darkest fantasies realized. I came five times that night, once in the morning.
Mom kept bringing us juice and peanuts and fruit. What a beta-female I've made her.
I begged him to go again and without the condom. He was understandably soft after cumming so I advanced my blowjob skills (I was quite the novice). I learned ball play, both mouth and hands, and how to savor the moment. I learned how to worship his cock, rubbing the saliva-laden shaft and swollen tip all about my face, utterly slathering my face with spit until I moved on to deep throating (or at least an attempt, as Daddy is too big for my itty-bitty mouth and jaw to accommodate). With all the whorish attention to his dick, Daddy got hard again and told me to get on my hands and knees. That is when
She
