This is true story MY DADDY.. Mama was killed in an automobile accident when I was seventeen. Her death hit both daddy and me hard, but while I was able to deal with it pretty well, daddy was almost a basket case for about three months.
Mama had shown me how to cook, sew, do the laundry, and keep the house clean, and she and I frequently did these things together before her death. Now, I stepped in and did them all myself. Daddy would not have been able to do them. He’s a great mechanic, and is talented in many other ways, but I don’t think he could fix breakfast if it required anything more than pouring cereal into a bowl and adding sugar and milk. Anyway, when mama died, I began taking care of daddy and the house. At first, the house wasn’t quite as well taken care of as it had been when mama was alive, but I soon learned the little tricks that every woman learns to save time and to get all of the work done quickly and well.
I made sure that daddy always had clean, well pressed clothes to wear, and that he ate well. I loved him, no – I love him. I wanted his life to be as happy and as comfortable as I could make it. I still do.
Although I was able to do all of the cooking and housework almost as well as mama had, I was unable to give daddy the love and companionship she had given him. I could see the loneliness in his eyes. Daddy tried to put up a brave front, but I knew deep inside that he was hurting, hurting badly. Over time, daddy began to come out of the deep funk he had been in, but there was still something holding him back, keeping him from being the cheerful, outgoing man he had been.
I got a clue about what was bothering daddy one day when I took some clean clothes into his bedroom to put them in the dresser and the closet. While I was hanging daddy’s clean shirts on the bar, my head brushed a rolled magazine on the lower shelf above the hanger bar. My head almost dislodged it from where daddy had stuck it. It seemed strange that daddy had rolled it and put it on the closet shelf instead of putting it with his Popular Science and other magazines in the cabinet at the bottom of his nightstand.
I unrolled the magazine. Wow! It was a copy of Private, a slick porn magazine. The picture on the cover left nothing to the imagination. The blond girl in the picture was standing bent over a kitchen sink. She had one foot up on the top step of a kitchen stool. An older man was behind her. Both of them were naked, and at least half of the man’s stiff cock was buried deep inside the girl’s shaved pussy.
I took the magazine to my room and lay down on the bed to look at it. The story line of the text under, or next to the pictures didn’t have enough plot to make good reading, but it wasn’t supposed to be a piece of literature. The pictures were the important thing. Nevertheless, that little bit of text said that the people the story and pictures were about were father and daughter.
My parents were nudists and I was used to seeing both of them nude around the house, and went nude much of the time myself when only the three of us were in the house. I had also been to various nudist resorts both here in the states and in Europe with my parents, so I had never found a nude man’s body particularly arousing.
Nevertheless, the pictures in that copy of Private soon had my skirt up and my right hand inside my panties. I think it was because they supposedly showed a man having sex with his own daughter. Because we had always been a nudist family, daddy and I continued going nude in one another’s presence, even after mama’s death. It was just the natural thing for us to do, and I didn’t think anything about it. We even hugged one another while we were nude, and gave one another good night kisses while nude, but never did anything that could be considered sexual. We just did what other fathers and daughters do who are fully clothed when they do it.
A couple of times, over the last several months, when I kissed daddy good night, I had felt his cock twitch against my thigh, but it had never gotten erect, just a little fatter and a little firmer.
It kind of thrilled me to think that my daddy was starting to get a hard-on while kissing me, but neither of us did anything to further what each of us was feeling. We always broke our kiss and went to our own rooms to sleep. But, now, looking at these pictures: I felt that daddy had this magazine because it showed someone doing what he wanted to do. My daddy wanted to fuck me! More than that, as I looked at those pictures, I wanted it to happen. I wanted my daddy.
My boyfriend, Kevin, and I had started having intercourse the week I turned eighteen. We had petted heavily a lot before that, but Kevin is two years older than I am and he was afraid to fuck me while I was still ‘jail bait,’ as he put it. So – I wasn’t a virgin any more. I had tasted the pleasures of sex.
Fucking Kevin was always fun, but something was still missing. With him, it was never anything more than physical. Don’t get me wrong. I like Kevin. For a time, I even thought I loved him, but sex with him never had an emotional component to it. It was almost like I was using his hard cock as a substitute for my hand, and was using him to masturbate myself to orgasm.
As I looked at the pictures in the magazine, and read the trite text that accompanied them, my fingers danced over my clit and plunged into my sopping wet cunt. Now, I knew why sex with Kevin never really left me satisfied. I wanted my daddy. And, if this magazine meant what I thought it meant, daddy wanted me.
That evening, when daddy got home from the garage he owns, I was in the kitchen, nude as usual, and was preparing supper.
“Hi, Rose,” daddy called out as he slammed the front door. It was raining, and in damp weather the door swells and sticks. It is hard to open and hard to close.
“Hi, daddy,” I called out. “I’m here in the kitchen. Supper will be ready in about an hour. I’m just putting it in the oven. Why don’t you go shower. I’ll open a beer for you and put it next to your chair in the living room.” “Thank you, darling.”
I opened daddy’s favorite beer, a half liter flip-top Grolsch, and poured it into a big ceramic stein that daddy had bought in Rudesheim, Germany the year we took a Rhine River trip. Then I went into the bathroom. Daddy was in the shower, but I could see him through the frosted glass of the shower door.
He hadn’t heard me enter. The water was making too much noise. He was standing there with his back to the spraying water. His right hand was wrapped around his stiff cock and he was moving it rapidly back and forth along the shaft.
I sat on the toilet and put my right hand down between my open thighs. While daddy stroked his hard-on, I fingered my clit. I came when I saw daddy shudder, heard him moan, and saw a hint of his semen squirting out to splash on the wall of the shower stall.
I quickly got up and returned to the kitchen. I washed the pussy juice off my hand in the kitchen sink, and was making a salad when daddy came up behind me, put his arms around me, and gave me a hug.
His naked body against mine felt marvelous. After what we had done in the bathroom, although I’m sure daddy didn’t know I had been there masturbating and watching him do the same, the touch of his cock between the cheeks of my ass made my nipples pop out and made my pussy begin to get wet.
I turned in daddy’s arms and when I was facing him, kissed him. It was no little girl’s daughter to father kiss. It was a horny woman’s kiss. Daddy must still have been horny too. He didn’t pull back to break the kiss, as I had expected him to, but returned the kiss with a passion that matched my own.
As we kissed, my stiff nipples bored into daddy’s hairy chest. My hands were on the back of his head keeping his mouth tight against mine as I slipped my tongue between his lips.
Down below, I was flowing like a river, and daddy’s cock had risen between my thighs, stiff, long, and hot. Its head was pressed snugly against my hot slit. I began to rock my hips. That caused my outer labia to separate. Daddy’s hard-on slipped between the slick folds and nestled its head at the opening of my vagina. I moaned from a kind of pleasure Kevin had never given me.
The oven timer sounded. Damn! The roast was cooked. Reluctantly, I disengaged from daddy’s embrace. “Supper’s ready, daddy.”
Daddy was red faced. His cock was standing out stiffly from his body, pointing upward at about a forty-five degree angle. A bright, glistening drop of pre-come was sitting on the lips of his pee hole.
“Whew – saved by the bell,” daddy said as he wiped his hands across his face, shook his head, and took a deep breath.
Neither of us said anything about that kiss as we ate supper, but I thought about it. Boy, did I think about it. My nipples stayed hard, as did my clit, and my pussy continued to leak so much that I was afraid I would leave a wet spot on the chair cushion.
Daddy must have been thinking about that kiss too. When dinner was over, and he stood up to go into the living room, his cock was still almost as erect as it had been when its tip was pressing into my hole.
I knew then that, daddy and I were going to sleep together that night.
*** Daddy and I did the dishes together. He washed and I dried and put them away. He still hasn’t learned where the different things go. We then went into the living room to watch TV.
The television is opposite the couch, and is a little difficult to see from daddy’s favorite chair, so we both sit on the couch to watch programs. I often sit close to him, and neither of us ever thought anything about it in the past, but that evening when I snuggled close to him, daddy said, “Rose, darling, I don’t think you should sit close enough to touch tonight.”
“Why daddy? Don’t you like it when I sit close to you?”
“Yes darling, I do. And that’s why you shouldn’t do it any more.”
“But…”
“Don’t ‘but’ me, Rosamund. You saw and felt what happened when I got home and we kissed.”
“Yes, I did. I liked it. Didn’t you?”
“Hell yes, I liked it. I liked it too damned much. Rose, darling, I’m your father, not some boy like Kevin. We simply can’t do what I wanted to do there in the kitchen.”
“Oh daddy. It’s not anything bad. You love me, and I love you. Why can’t we show one another how much we care?”
“Honey, what you’re suggesting is incest. It is against the law. If anyone found out, I’d probably be sent to jail, and you would have a reputation so bad that you couldn’t live in this town, maybe not even in this state any more.”
“Daddy, no one would have to know. No one would see us, and neither of us would tell any one.” “Rosamund, no!”
I didn’t argue with him any more. We were both still nude, so I knew he still felt comfortable around me as long as we didn’t touch one another. I wasn’t interested in any of the programs on that night, so daddy turned on a program about fly fishing in Colorado and was soon engrossed in it. I forced myself to watch and asked daddy a couple of questions about fly fishing to make him think I was interested.
About a half hour into the program, I lay down on the couch and put my head on daddy’s thigh. I had my back to him. I expected him to tell me to sit up, but he didn’t. He was so wrapped up in the program that I don’t think he really noticed what I was doing.
For a long time, I just lay there without moving. Then, I put my right hand up under my head so that it was between me and daddy’s thigh, palm down. I began moving my fingers, just kind of flexing them at first, but then stretching them out and pulling them back again so that I was massaging daddy’s inner thigh.
I didn’t know if that would turn daddy on or not. It always turns me on when Kevin strokes my inner thigh, so I thought I’d at least try it with daddy. If it worked, good. If it didn’t, I’d try something else. It worked. Daddy’s breathing began to change. Not much, but enough that I could hear the difference.
I moved my head. It had been only on his right thigh. Now it was cradled between his legs. I also move back a little so that I could feel his belly against the back of my head. Again, I just lay there a while doing nothing. I wanted daddy to think I’d just moved to get more comfortable. My right hand was still between daddy’s legs. I began to stroke his thigh again. His breathing quickened again. Something else quickened too. I felt his cock stiffen and rise up to poke into my hair next to my left ear. Good, I told myself.. Don’t scare daddy. As daddy’s program ended, I felt him reach for the remote. I was afraid he was going to turn the TV off and go to his room to bed. I had to act fast. I rolled over, turning first face down on his thigh. As I continued to turn, I captured the head of daddy’s cock in my mouth and took it in as deep as I could without choking. I’d blown Kevin a couple of times so I knew how much cock I could put in my mouth before hitting my gag reflex. When daddy felt my hot rosy lips close around his cock head he jumped so violently that he almost dumped me on the floor. I held on, however, and kept his cock in my mouth. In fact, I sank it in even deeper.
Daddy collapsed back onto the couch. The sensation of having his cock sucked must have been so powerful that he could no longer fight against his need for sexual release.
I smiled inwardly and began bobbing my mouth up and down on daddy’s penis while sucking to make what he was feeling even more stimulating. Even though he had jacked off in the shower only a couple of hours earlier, daddy was unable to hold back his orgasm very long. He filled my mouth with his come.
I’d tasted Kevin’s come and didn’t like it. It tasted like laundry bleach smells. Daddy’s wasn’t like that. It was a little salty, but it had a fresh, almost fruity taste to it. It was delicious. I swallowed it – all of it.
When daddy finished coming, I sat up and kissed him. I wanted him to smell and taste himself as we let our tongues dance together.
Daddy’s hands were all over me, on my breasts, between my pussy lips, across my butt. I loved it. My nipples were so swollen that they hurt. My pussy was flowing like a river.
“Daddy, suck my titties, please. I need your hot mouth on them.”
He didn’t have to be told twice.
We stayed on the couch for about another five minutes. By then I knew daddy was mine.
“Daddy, take me to bed.”
He grabbed the TV remote and turned the set off. He then picked me up and carried me to his bedroom. As we left the living room, I reached out and turned off the room lights.
When we got to his bed, daddy put me down on it and lay down beside me. I rolled on top of him and began another torrid, open mouthed, deep kiss. I made sure my hard nippled tits were tight against daddy’s chest, and reached down between us to stroke his cock. It had softened after he had come in my mouth, but I soon had it on its way back to a full erection.
Daddy pulled his mouth from mine and began kissing his way down my body. He sucked both nipples for a while and then continued south. When he got to my mons, he buried his nose in my pubic hair and rooted around for a bit and then continued further down until his nose was in my slit brushing my erect clitoris.
That touch set of the first of so many orgasms that I had that night that I lost count of them before I had the last one.
Kevin loved having me go down on him, but never wanted to do the same for me. Daddy – daddy seemed to love the taste and smell of my pussy. I can’t even begin to describe the sensations he gave me as he licked and sucked my inner lips and clit, and plunged his tongue deep into my sopping wet cunt.
I couldn’t wait any longer. “Daddy, daddy,” I wailed. “Put it in me. Do it to me now.”
All thoughts of incest were lost to both of us. Daddy got between my wide spread legs and placed the tip of his cock at my opening. I wrapped my legs around his waist, grabbed his ass, and pulled him into me. His cock was so much bigger than Kevin’s. It filled me, stretched me, and sent me into nirvana.
We rocked and fucked, and thrust, and moaned and kissed, and; God, there’s no way to describe all that we did. Our bodies and our souls were locked together in an embrace as old as man and woman. We were in bliss with one another.
*** Daddy cried like a baby after we climaxed together and separated. The feeling of guilt was just too much for him. I cradled him in my arms, his head against my breasts and rubbed his back until at last he fell asleep.
I slept that night in daddy’s bed, pressed close to him.
The next morning, daddy still felt guilty, but I told him he shouldn’t feel bad about what we had done. It was I who had initiated what we had done, so if either of us were to feel bad, it should be I.
It took a few more times of seducing daddy, but now he accepts what we are doing. We don’t have a marriage certificate, and no church would bless our union, but I’m now daddy’s wife-daughter, and we are happy together.
I’m on the pill right now, but someday…
Added by Tom88
