Dad walks in on his darling twenty-year-old daughter getting her brains fucked out and it all hits the fan. I guess you can imagine what happens then... Well, maybe not. 😉
As always emails welcome. Thanks for reading! xo
The Power of the Wifebeater Chapter One
"Oh my god Richie, I'm going to cum baby," I moaned, rearing back to take his cock deeper. His fingers gripped my hips as he drove in.
My fingers gripped the pink satin coverlet on my bed while my tits banged hard with each thrust, the smell of sex hung heavy in the air.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"
My Dad's booming voice stopped Richie immediately It only took a hot second for him to pull out, roll off my bed, and fumble into clothes and brush by Dad on his way out. It took me a little longer to realize what was going on because I was so close to cumming. Orgasm interruptus.
I rose from my hands and knees up to my knees in the middle of my girly pink satin and lace bed.
Dad stood there and stared at me. I didn't bother to cover up because he had already seen pretty much everything. There wasn't much I could say about the situation, so I kept my mouth shut. Richie and I usually fucked in his dorm room but came here because his roommate needed their room.
Dad was bare-chested, a thicket of dark blonde hair disappearing into the waist of his sleep pants. Mom sewed and made a lot of clothes including his sleep pants. I washed them when I did laundry, but never saw him actually wearing them. They were for her eyes only. Until now.
Soft white cotton was low-slung on his hips, a cord tied at his waist. No fly but just the seam open from the waist down low.
While my nipples hardened from his eyes raking over my body, his cock come to life. His pants gaped open. Had the head of his cock not caught on the edge of the opening, his cock would have been obscenely sticking out. They were open low enough that I could make out a hint of his fat balls in a dark blonde furry nest.
"You look so much like Laura," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Your hair. Your smile."
I was much curvier than Mom. She had cupcakes, and I'm thirty-eight D. I have hips and ass, and she was narrow-waisted. We used to laugh about where I got all the curves.
His eyes were still all over my body, lingering on my fleshy tits and smooth shaved fat pussy lips. They were still wet and engorged because I was needy.
No way should I be enjoying this kind of attention from my Dad as much as I was. My nipples were achingly hard and wanted his mouth. My pussy was dripping wet. My body wanted him. Needed him. I was no longer thinking of him as my Dad.
He was a man that I wanted to seduce. I had to learn every inch of his body. I had to discover what made him moan and cry out. I wanted to taste him. Feel his cock in my mouth. Tongue his plump balls. Arching and moving under my soft stroking hands.
His pants gaped wider as his cock grew. A wet spot of precum forming and growing larger on the soft whiteness. I was twenty and had seen more than my share of cocks, but I shuddered to imagine what was in the shadowy darkness. I saw the thickness of his shaft, but the head was hidden. Was it a fat mushroom head? I could see the round fullness of his balls pushing out. Were they filling with his seed for me? The same seed that created me.
He seemed rooted to the spot. I willed him to come to the bed. I flicked my tongue across my dry lips. Without thinking my hands palmed my aching nipples and breathed a soft moan. His chest raised as he drew in a deep breath watching.
I wanted him to take it out. I wanted him to drop his sleep pants so I could see his beautiful body. I wanted him as naked as I was.
He rhythmically squeezed his cock, his eyes transfixed on my tits as I kneaded and pinched the hard cotton candy pink nipples.
A car blaring music outside broke the spell. He blinked seeming to shake himself out of the spell then turned and left my room.
I fell back on my bed. Spreading my thighs wide, I imagined him coming back into my room to slide his cock into my wet pussy so I could feel some relief. A few flicks on my clit and I came hard and loud.
...
After Mom died, we were much more casual. First, we were in a daze and didn't care. It didn't occur to me until I was pulling my panties and wifebeater on before going down to breakfast how provocative my clothing, or lack of, could be. We just didn't think. It continued without any issues. Until now.
Dad always wore sleeveless t-shirts until I mentioned one time that they were called wifebeaters. Minutes later he came back with the armload of his shirts and dumped them on my bed.
"Ugh, I can't wear them now that you told me that. Do what you want with them."
I began to wear them to bed. The knit was soft and thin, and some were threadbare from wear. They stretched over my thirty-eight D's, pulling the armholes even lower baring and my side boob. And long enough to cover my panties. That was usually my breakfast attire. He was happy I could use them and nothing more was said.
But the morning after was different. The morning after he saw his daughter riding cock. After he witnessed his adult daughter completely naked.
Before I went down to breakfast I stood in front of the mirror. The thin white t-shirt stretched tight across my tits. Pink nipples poked through lewdly. The soft roundness bared on the side by the low armholes. The neckline stretched low trying to cradle my fat tits. The length of the shirt ended at my white satin-covered pussy.
"Good morning, Daddy," I chirped as usual coming into the kitchen. He was already at the stove working on the bacon and eggs, wearing his normal knit boxer shorts.
"Almost ready! Grab a plate, kitten."
Usually, I wouldn't have thought anything of brushing against his back as I leaned to grab a dish from the cupboard. But this time my nipples hardened into bullets sensuously dragging across his back. I stifled a moan. Every nerve ending went on alert. My panties dampened.
He stiffened when my nipples scored his bare back through the thin knit. "Don't forget the toast," he choked out.
I stood on the other side of the peninsula and waited for the toast to pop. I could feel his eyes on me. Did I push my breasts out a little more this morning? Were my nipples harder and longer? Everything had shifted.
The toast popped, I jumped and smiled up at him. His gaze made my nipples ache. I wanted my Dad, and I knew he wanted me. But would he follow through, I wondered. I knew I would have to give him a little help crossing that taboo line. If he sees me as a woman more than just his daughter, as I see him as more of a man instead of just my Dad, he will. He was already on his way. Just a little nudge.
Mom had been gone a little over a year and I knew he hadn't dated yet. He needed someone. Someone to hug, hold and kiss. He needed a soft body pressed against his hard body. He needed to have a hot tight pussy caring for his cock. I planned on being and doing all that for him.
...
I made dinner and kept it warm. He often came home late from his job at the construction site because he was the last to leave and lock up.
I was on my bed studying when I heard him come in. I rolled on my tummy, my silky red panties barely covering my ass. The red crop top worked up as I leaned up on my elbows and I knew he could see the undercurve of my tits.
"Smells good, kitten. Meatloaf? Did you eat?"
I took a moment before I rolled to my side. "Yes, I did but I'll keep you company."