The Vasectomy

SUMMARY: This is a complete work of fiction. This is Chapter Four of the events that transpired after an unexpected experience between Danielle and her dad at a fertility clinic. Two months go by since she gave her dad a blow job and she is so worked up, she starts pushing her dad to do things he is resistant to do.

All characters in this story are 18 or older.

DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction. Any character resemblances to real life personae are strictly coincidental. Copying, re-posting, storing (whether digitally or in print form) or redistribution of this material is prohibited.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story has seven chapters. All chapters have already been written, but I decided to release just a chapter or two at a time. Most likely, I will continue publishing the remaining chapters at regular intervals, until they are all there for you to read. Each chapter is short, by design. I wanted to keep this story simple and to the point. Hopefully you are getting as much enjoyment out of reading them as I did from writing them!

STORY:

Chapter Four.

After giving my daddy a blowjob (the best blowjob ever, according to him), things really felt different around our house. Barriers weren't exactly gone, but they were noticeably flimsy. Things just felt... looser. Over the next two months, we didn't do anything sexual, but we did have several deep conversations that I doubt we ever would have if it hadn't been for the three orgasms I had given him (and one of my own). We laughed a little more easily. We joked. And, my favorite part, we were a little more touchy-feely with each other. Not in a sexual way, mind you. But if we hugged, it tended to be one those movie hugs that made the audience melt. When we watched movies, I inevitably ended up snuggled right next to him. I also started wearing his shirts from time to time. I don't know why, but it made me feel even closer to him that he didn't seem to mind that I did it. I just walked into his closet when I wanted one and grabbed it.

Now, despite nothing sexual happening, that didn't stop my body from feeling distinctly aroused. And near constantly. I was fairly certain my daddy felt the same way, but we just never brought it up. For me, maybe I was still worried that he would put a final stop to my advances if I took advantage too often. But all in all, I felt extremely close to my father during that time. I felt safe.

Which leads me to our next... incident.

It was a Sunday night and dad had been watching football that afternoon. I cooked spaghetti and we ate together after the game. Oh, and he had been drinking since noon. Not heavily, but I know he had gone through his first six pack of beer already, and was working on a second. Maybe that should have been a sign for me not to push anything. But whatever. I was feeling exceptionally frisky. As I mentioned earlier, my arousal was near constant. Well, it had been over a month since I had even masturbated, so maybe you can imagine how I was feeling. Oh, and his five o'clock shadow was particularly sexy looking, which I had discovered to be something that I found extremely attractive on hm.

Anyway.

After dinner, we decided to watch a movie together. I was wearing one of his shirts, which was common like I said. It was a blue button-down shirt with a collar. It was loose on me, but I didn't mind. I decided to go braless that particular evening, and I wore a pair of soft, cottony shorts that I often slept in. The shirt was long enough that it hid my shorts, and beneath that was all leg. I had the top two buttons undone and one side of the shirt was hanging off my shoulder. Was I trying to look seductive? Probably. My boobs weren't visible, but a patch of unblemished skin was. You could just make out the base of the upper slope of my right breast.

I was feeling worked up, and in the back of my head, I had a certain direction I hoped our conversation would go. But at the same time, I was curious about something that we hadn't talked about in over two months. I let him finish one more beer before springing my first question on him.

"Dad?" I said. I hadn't been calling him "daddy" as much.

"Hm?" he said.

"Are you almost ready to reschedule your appointment with the clinic for your procedure?" I asked, curious.

He hesitated and then shrugged, glancing at me as he said, "I'm not sure, really."

Back when he first told me about it, he had seemed so certain about going through with it. I frowned, wondering why that had changed. After a minute, I asked, "Are you having second thoughts about doing it?"

My dad looked at me but didn't say anything. I was morbidly curious what he was thinking about, but I held my tongue. After a minute, he took another long drink of his beer. Then he said, "I don't think so, no. It's just not a very pressing issue for me right now, I guess."

Nodding slowly, I considered his words. Then I offered, "Not pressing because... you don't have a girlfriend?"

He shrugged, looking away from me. His cheeks flushed slightly as he sat there. That made me wonder. And hope, a little. Maybe, if I prodded gently, in the right direction...

"Daddy?" I called to him softly. It dawned on me that I usually called him "daddy" when I wanted something from him. And I did. I was feeling wired. My body was laced with arousal that had been there, on and off, for over a month. And that made me feel somewhat bold. When he looked at me, I bit my lip.

"What?" he asked, sounding a touch apprehensive. He glanced at me, but quickly looked away, like he knew what was coming next.

For a minute, I couldn't breathe. A question floated through my head that I was nervous to ask. But I knew I wanted to. Swallowing, I forced myself to whisper, "What if I said you could have sex with me?"

His head whipped toward me, a look of complete surprise on his face. Ok, so he had not been expecting that question after all. "What?" was all he said.

Shrugging, suddenly uncomfortable, I looked down at my lap. Then I said, "I mean, would that help?"

"Help with what, Danielle?" he asked, his voice sounding strained. Like he was getting angry with me again. Crap.

Weakly, I said, "Help you... you know, make your decision?"

He didn't say anything. A minute of silence went by and, when I looked at him, he was staring at me. Oh. His eyes flicked up to my face. He had been staring... at my chest. Suddenly my exposed skin where his shirt flap was open felt hot. I squirmed a little, adjusting my upper body just so. The right side of the shirt was hanging off my shoulder and I felt it drop a little lower on my arm. I wasn't sure if I had done that intentionally, but I didn't pull it back up. As we stared at each other, his eyes drifted down but then snapped back up to my face. He did that a few times in a row until he finally wrenched his gaze away.

He spoke, his voice sounding hoarse, "How would that help?"

Biting my lip, I answered, talking to the side of his face while he lifted his beer up once more. "Well, you said you wanted to do it to... get ready for sex. Right?"

"That's not exactly what I meant," he said.

"What did you mean then?" I asked, leaning forward just a little. I felt the shirt pull away from my chest. Without looking down and giving my intentions away, I couldn't tell if he would be able to see down it or not. Was I being evil with my attempt at seduction? Meh.

My dad shook his head, then said, "I guess I meant that I was hoping having a vasectomy would help put me back in a frame of mind where I would consider dating again."

"Right," I said. Then I added boldly, "So you can have some sex."

"Jesus, Danielle," my dad said, squirming on the couch. He lifted his beer once again, finishing the bottle. He didn't sound the same as he had the previous times when he was being resistive. That gave me hope.

When he didn't say anything else, I asked gently, "Am I wrong?"

He sighed, closing his eyes. I let the question linger without saying anything else for quite some time. Finally, he whispered, "No." It made me smile.

Another question popped into my head. A follow up from something I said earlier. But I bit my lip. It was a risky question. I didn't want him to go on the defensive and push me away altogether. And, as I mentioned, I was extremely worked up. I had been for weeks. I realized my breath was catching and my heart was pounding. Drawing in a deep breath, I asked my question.

"Do you want to have sex with me?" I tried to sound casual.

He turned slowly toward me, expression unreadable. He didn't look mad. But he also didn't look like he was going to rise to my offer-- oh! His eyes slid down to my chest and he lingered there for several seconds before turning his head away. It seemed like he had to force himself to look somewhere else. Closing his eyes, my daddy groaned softly.

"You're serious again, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes?" I answered, adding inflection at the end to make it sound like a question. When he didn't say anything, I added, "It's just that..." But I suddenly couldn't finish my sentence. I bit my lip again, looking away from him. My thighs felt hot.

"Just what?" he whispered.

Still holding my lip between my teeth, I glanced over at him. He was staring at me intently. And he managed not to lower his gaze down to my chest, although he did seem to be straining to keep his eyes level with mine. He swallowed as we stared at each other. But then I finished my thought, speaking quietly, "Ever since that last time, when I--" I nodded toward his crotch, as if that would give him the words I omitted. Then I looked back up at him and spoke even softer, "I'm so worked up, daddy! I can't even think straight."

He frowned at me, his face suddenly filled with compassion. His eyes did finally drop to my chest then and I watched his nostrils flare as he inhaled sharply. After almost five seconds, he slowly closed his eyes and then turned his head away. As if that was the only way he could get himself to stop looking. My pussy felt hot. Smoldering hot. And it started to itch. I realized I was breathing heavily.

Without looking at me, my dad asked, "Why don't you masturbate?"

"I tried that," I admitted.

He swung his head toward me again and asked, "Really?" I could tell he was trying to focus on my face, but his eyes dropped down to my chest once more. I shifted my arm purposely and felt his button-down shirt slide a little further down. His eyes widened slightly and he pulled his gaze away. That made me smile.

"Yeah, really," I answered. Then I added, "It's not the same."

He nodded slowly and then tipped the beer up to his lips once more, but it was empty. He frowned at it and then got up from the couch and left the room. I stared at him as he walked away and was still staring when he walked back in, carrying a fresh one. His hand seemed to be shaking. When he got to his spot on the couch, he didn't sit down. Instead, taking one more long drink from the bottle, he looked at me. I stared up at him. He held my gaze as long as he could until his eyes finally dropped lower. To my chest. His breath caught but he didn't pull away.

Slowly, I followed his gaze, tilting my head down and looking at my own chest. Oh wow. My right breast was way more visible than I had realized. You couldn't quite see my nipple, but the entire top side of the mound was showing. I had to admit, it looked hot as hell. I felt sexy just then, wearing my daddy's shirt. When I lifted my head back up to look at him again, he was still staring at my chest. At my breast, that is. And I could tell he was breathing erratically.

He looked back at my face and held his eyes there. Finally, he whispered, "Do you want me to... do it for you?"

The pleasure that erupted in my crotch just then almost made me moan. Biting my lip again, I nodded up at him as my face split into a grin. Oh god yes, I wanted him to do it. My nodding grew more and more emphatic. I couldn't help it.

"Ok," he said, nodding slightly. Then he promptly tilted his beer back and chugged the rest of it. I almost laughed.

Making a snap decision, I hopped up from the couch, feeling his shirt jostle as I did. It fell further down my arm. Glancing down, I noticed that the flap of the shirt was resting on the edge of my tit, just shy of exposing my nipple. If I had unbuttoned just one more button, it would have been completely visible. Lifting my arm up to the third button, I carefully pushed at it, pinching the fabric while I twisted it, until the button popped through the hole. When I let it fall to the side, my nipple came into view. The areola was slightly puckered and the red tip was sticking out about a centimeter.

"Jesus," I heard my dad whisper from a few feet away.

Glancing up at him, my own eyes opened wide. The look on his face was pure lust. And he was openly staring at my exposed breast. I let him look for about ten seconds before promptly spinning on my heel and striding down the hall.

My dad cleared his throat behind me and then called, "Where are you going?"

Glancing over my bare shoulder at him, I said, "To my bedroom." When I reached my door, I called down to him, "You coming?"

Stepping into my bedroom, my nerves decided to attack just then. I started shaking, feeling a rush of blood in my head that made me sway on my feet as I stood just inside the threshold of my room, catching my breath. Stumbling to my bed, I reached it and spun around, sitting hard on my ass. Breathing heavily, I stared at my door in anticipation.

The floor creaked outside my room, announcing that my father had followed me. My heartbeat sped up and suddenly leapt into my throat. I swallowed. A jolt of pleasure burned in my crotch as I sat there nervously waiting for him to join me. I realized that I truly had no idea what was really about to happen. What was he about to do to me? How exactly was he going to... get me off?

Feeling dizzy, I watched as my father's form filled my doorway. For a minute, we just stared at each other. His chest was rising and falling quickly and I could tell that he was just as aroused as I was. My back hit the mattress as I fell backward. I didn't even remember moving. My legs were dangling over the side of the bed. In the process of falling back, the shirt had shifted, and I felt one side of it snugging up under my right breast. My fully exposed, right breast. When I glanced toward my father once more, his eyes were glued to my chest, open wide. His face was etched with lust. He started walking toward me and my heart beat even faster.

Without a word, I reached down and hooked my thumbs in my shorts, pulling them down as he approached the bed. He stopped a few feet away, watching me. When I got them off and let them drop to the floor, I slowly spread my legs a few inches. He took another step closer and I felt my body trembling. I stared at his face, but he was staring at my crotch. At my naked pussy. I had shaved that morning, so I knew he was getting quite a view.

With a visible shake of his entire body, my father sat on my bed beside me. He never took his eyes away from my crotch, but I kept watching his face, breathing short, gasping breaths. I was so worked up, I could feel something warm oozing from my vagina. As I stared at him, he lifted a hand and moved it toward my pussy. When he was just a few inches away from it, he paused, glancing at my face. Our eyes locked briefly and I felt my heart thud almost painfully. I didn't want to talk and risk breaking the enchantment. Fortunately, I didn't need to.

Daddy turned his attention back to my pussy and then, without a word, he reached his hand toward it and brushed his fingers along my lips. Biting my lip to keep from crying out, I reveled in the pleasure that his touch brought with it. Gently, he probed and fondled my pussy lips. They felt hot and excited, tingling from his touch. He was fondling me slowly, feeling his way around his own daughter's mound. After less than a minute, his caressing fingers diddled between the folds of my labia, tickling the sensitive flesh within. I gasped. Then he worked his way down, until he found my wet, oozing entrance. I felt him mash his fingers against my hole, fluid dripping out of me. A few seconds later, he worked his way up my canal once more, my lips parting for his fingers as he slid them upward.

My father's fingers danced across my clit and my hips bucked upward, involuntarily. I cried out, but bit my lip, trying hard to reign myself back down. I was so worked up and his touches felt so good, I realized that I could probably get off in seconds. But I didn't want it to be over so fast.

"Daddy?" I heard myself whimper his name.

He looked at my face while I breathed heavily, struggling to keep my eyes open while he continued to diddle my clit. After a few seconds, I whispered, "Can you do that... with... with your mouth?"

His eyes grew to about double in an instant and he opened his mouth, exhaling. He still had his fingers pressed against my clitoris, but they weren't moving. For eight heartbeats, we stared at each other. His face was full of arousal, and I was sure mine was too. But his hesitation didn't last long.

Pushing himself off the bed, my dad landed on his feet and spun toward me. His fingers were no longer touching my vagina but when I saw the glint in his eye as he stared at it, I knew I was about to get something way better than a fingering.

Licking his lips, my father slowly knelt beside the bed, between my legs. When his head was level with my pussy, I watched him try to catch his breath for a few seconds. Then, without a word, he leaned forward until I felt his cheeks brush against my inner thighs. His beard felt surprisingly soft against my skin, but it tickled. And that tickle added more fuel to my already aroused cunt. His breath lapped at my vagina before his lips reached it. I shivered, feeling a small gush of juice drain from me. His face moved forward slowly, my legs parting on their own to make room.

His tongue flicked out, touching my lips and sending a flurry of explosions up inside of me. I cried out softly, squirming. My dad pushed forward a little more until I felt his mouth surrounding my pussy.

And then my father started eating me out.

My body reacted instantly, and I felt my hips press upward, mashing my pussy against his mouth. His beard started feeling rough, but I didn't care. He opened his mouth wider, jabbing at my lips with his tongue. Opening and closing his mouth, my father began to devour me. He lapped and licked, curling his tongue and mashing it into my hole. I could feel my juice literally pouring out of me, but he didn't seem to mind. Hungrily, he at me out. He licked his way up between my labia, using tongue and lips simultaneously to create a gentle wake of pleasure. When he reached the top, his tongue swatted against my clit.

"DADDY!" I cried out, my hips bucking upward and mashing against his face again.

He didn't move. His tongue kept flitting back and forth over my clitoris, for nearly a minute. My arousal was pulsing within me and I could feel an orgasm trying to break free and explode. I felt my body trembling while he continued to pleasure me. His tongue started lapping up and down over my clit, moving faster. I felt his lips closing, clamping down and sucking gently at my crotch. My clitoris was swollen and sensitive as he continued to pleasure it.

Suddenly I realized that my father was breathing heavily, too. Through his nose. That didn't slow his pleasure-inducing tongue, though. He kept moving it, up and down, side to side, swirling around in tiny circles. He tickled my clit expertly and I was helpless to resist the orgasm that was raging within me, surging to the surface. My hips started to lift upward, but with my legs dangling over the side of the bed, I wasn't able to get them very high.