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Daughter’s Desires

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The past week has been blurry. I turned 18 in March of my senior year, seduced my father, graduated two weeks ago, and now my body is sore, my sex well thumped. I squeeze my legs together, feeling my clit, mashing it between my thighs, remembering, longing for 6pm when my dad gets back home from class. I will be ready. I want him again.

It started just over 2-years ago. I was 15, three weeks shy of my 16th birthday. My mom got up one morning, and left. No goodbye! No I love you! No note. Nothing!

My dad and I were devastated. We were cheated. We had no warning of the coming split. Nothing! We felt like she gut kicked us. Dad, financially set in his college teaching job, struggled with guilt. Blamed himself most of the time. I never really understood why mom left. And nobody confided in me. I was the child. My dad and I spent hours together, consoling, hugging, crying. I was closer to my dad than ever before. Our lives continued.

I grew up quickly. Dad needed my help. All the things we took for granted now fell on my shoulders in addition to my school work. Cooking, cleaning, school, homework, became a daily routine. We were happy!

A year passed quickly. We never heard a word from my mom. Dad did receive papers shortly after mom split, then the divorce went quickly. She never called me. She missed Christmas, my birthday, dad’s birthday. She dropped us and went on with life.

Dad was super during this time. He devoted all his time to me and my activities. I turned 16 during the spring of my sophomore year, Dad got me a Jeep. Had it lifted, nice wheels, rims. It looked great! And I looked good driving it. It was fun to have Dad help me pull the top and doors. Stepping out, my long legs stretched to hit the pavement. It accented my long, lithe legs. So high heeled sandals, short shorts, and a tube top were to be the norm during the summer months.

I was fortunate and not expected to have to work. Dad believed that I should enjoy the summer months, see friends, visit the theme park or water park on a regular basis. And, I did not want the thrill of looking for a summer job anyways. We traveled internationally during my summer before my senior year. Dad always came up with the super vacation. He mentioned another “graduation” surprise trip abroad again are in the plans. Now, graduation was just two weeks away.

Dad has been interesting during the second year after mom left. He trimmed his body weight down, purchased a set of home gym equipment, filled our basement with all the best baubles to work out. I got in the habit of working out with him during the evening. We worked hard, and it soon showed. My body transformed. My arms gained definition, muscles cutting to show my form. My abdomen dropped any body fat I had, and almost rippled with tone. And my legs, my calves, thighs grew taunt, firm with leg lifts, and the many, many miles we put in on the treadmills. Dad even purchased a second one so we could do our mileage together. After the year of hard work, my 5’9″ body weighed in at 140 lbs. I could almost make my tits dance by flexing my pecs. A size B cup, they were pert, topped nicely with a large nipple. And the outfits I get to wear while working out, jeesh they are hot. I had Dad put mirrors on the wall. He steals glances, I watch him when he doesn’t know it.

Dad stands 6’2″, broad shouldered, narrow waist, and nice, tight ass. Dad wears the same ol’ stuff all the time to work out. He’s either in a tank top or t-shirt, an old ratty pair of athletic shorts, socks and running shoes. I catch myself glancing at him as well. I try to get a peek up his shorts. Best shots have come in the mirror when I am spotting him on the bench press. The bench points directly at a mirror, and with his legs dropped on each side, I sometimes get a quick glance at his covered package. I hope he is looking at my crotch inches from his head. I stand inches from him, my legs parted, and spot his lifting. I have even rocked my hips back and forth while he lifts. He never seems to notice.

As I experienced a change in my body, Dad’s shape also changed drastically. He is really hot for a guy in his late 30’s. Well toned, tanned, and muscular, his whole attitude has changed. Teaching, he met younger ladies around campus. I swear, many of the ladies he started dating were not much older than I. He would bring them home for dinner often. Nobody stuck around for long. My Dad seemed younger, more alive!

Now nearly 18-years 3-months old, just two weeks before my high school graduation, he favored another teacher from the university named Jill. And Jill seems to me to be a smaller version of me, or so I thought. She worked out, had a frame similar to mine only several inches shorter, hair style matched mine, and was also brown eyed. Not long after he brought her home and introduced her, she spent her first night in my Dad’s bed.

I had no real memory of my Dad’s sex life. I had never thought of sex until Jill. I had never heard mom or Dad engaged in wild, passionate sex. But enter Jill, my Dad went stupid, bursa escort and was always grabbing her, squeezing her tits or caressing her ass when he thought I would not see. I started watching to catch the occurrence, wondering why it would make them giggle so. Now, I am not a prude. I date often, I kiss boys, even share tongue. I have been felt up, even had my pussy mound rubbed through my jeans. But other than an inconvenience, I never have spent time thinking about sex to the extent that some of my best girlfriends do. But watching Dad and Jill, I would find myself wondering about the twinge feelings I would get in my crotch, or why my nipples would go rigid as I glanced around the corner as my Dad twisted Jill’s nipple through her clothes.

What got me was the first night Jill stayed. I do not believe it was their first time, but the first time I had to deal with the uncomfortable approach of bedtime. We had laid around watching the newest DVD from Clint Eastwood in our media room. Dad and Jill relaxed behind me on the theater seats as I stretched out on the floor. Now late, and me tired, I kissed Dad goodnight, told Jill I would see her later, and trundled off to bed. Time passed, I drifted off to a shallow sleep.

I was awakened first by groans. Inaudible, low level groans. I listened, thinking the wind must be blowing. Instantly, concern for my Dad entered my mind. Was he sick? The groans were coming from the hallway. I rose from my bed, following the pale light from the night light, opened my bedroom door quietly. Glancing outside, nothing was there. As I pulled the door open, I stepped into the hall, glanced toward the stairs, then turned to the sounds emanating from my Dad’s bedroom. I stepped closer to the door. All was quiet. I reached to the handle, ready to slowly, deliberately open the door.

“Oh God yes,” my Daddy groaned. I froze, my fingers wrapped firmly around the door knob. “Suck me,” Dad commanded. A thousand pictures jumped in my head. My Dad, his hand firmly wrapped around his stiff shaft, pumping, bringing himself to orgasm, or Jill’s lips firmly wrapped around his pulsating cock, face fucking her wet, pliant mouth and throat. Maybe, my Dad, his hand intertwined in her golden hair, jamming his cock in and out of her mouth forcefully. Wide eyed, scared I would be heard, I jumped back from the door and quickly, quietly, retreated to my room.

Again, my body ached. My mind played the pictures in my head. My girlfriends talked about such matters on more than one occasion. I laughed off such discussions. I did not have any experience, or interest. Now, my nipples rose firmly up from my chest, my sex yearned, my slit growing wet from my body’s desires. My hand quickly snaked down my torso, slipped under my panties. I pleased myself for the next 20-minutes, flashing my created pictures in my head. I drifted to a restless sleep.

I awoke early. Racing downstairs in my normal pj’s, I needed coffee. Sitting, sipping my first cup, Jill entered the kitchen dressed on one of my Dad’s softball team shirts. Her legs, athletic and firm, flexed with each step to the cupboard. She made his shirt look good. “Morning,” she said almost apologetically.

“Morning Jill,” I responded. “You’re still here,” I blurted without thinking.

She turned to look at me, her nipples rigid under the material. I noted they stood proud, swimming slightly with each movement of her body. She’s not that good I thought to myself. What was I thinking? My mind was going a hundred miles an hour. Was my Dad far behind? “I’m going to get a shower,” I stammered. Rising quickly, I bounded up the stairs, into my bedroom, and plopped on my bed. I sat for several minutes, thinking about my reaction to Jill in the kitchen. I needed to apologize. As I headed down the stairs, I could hear grunts coming from the kitchen.

Slowing my pace, I glanced around the refrigerator. My hand reached to cover my mouth instantly. My Dad had Jill bent over the kitchen table, his hands on her hips, slamming his body back and forth against her. I could not see her, but his naked ass was fully visible to me. His hips slapped her flesh as they both grunted. Repeatedly, he thrust his body against her backside. My heart jumped in my throat. My body froze. I could not move. I watched, memorized but what I saw. Forever passed before me. My breathing changed, my hand slid down my body, reaching into my panties, my fingers tracing down, fire burning on my belly. I reached my slit, my finger snaking in to find my clit covered in my juices. I flicked my finger back and forth quickly, my legs opening slightly, opening up my cunt to my probing fingers. I watched with feelings I had not felt before. I wanted to be her. I wanted my pussy pounded, a cock ravaging my body.

“Fuck me you stud,” grunted Jill. “Fuck my pussy! Harder!” she growled.

“I’m going to cum,” Dad grunted, slapping her right cheek with his hand. The pop made me jump. “Yes!” Dad almost shouted. He pulled her hips hard back against him, flexing his hips, grinding his bursa escort lily white ass into her body. His breathing was raspy. Reaching around underneath her body, he leaned over her ass, melding to her back. I backed off, heading upstairs quickly. I stripped off my clothes and jumped in the shower.

For the first time, I pictured my own Dad as a real sexual being, with a hard cock, long, straight, fat. As I fingered my clit, I closed my eyes. To my surprise, it was my Dad’s image that jumped into my mind, his fingers that were rubbing my clit back and forth, his fingers that mashed the sensitive bud against my body. I could feel his lips surround, gently bite my nipples as my fingers twisted and pulled my rigid nipples. I could hear him groaning as he sucked my flesh into his mouth. His fingers dipped into my wet hole, exploring my sex. My breathing quickened. My lust grew. I needed a few more seconds. My nerves were now on fire, my body arching against my fingers as I flicked my clit back and forth. My orgasm swelled in my crotch. “Yes Daddy,” I screamed as my orgasm exploded in my body. I humped my fingers, my clit rubbing firmly against my hand as I dipped two fingers deep into my cunt, driving hard and fast. “Yes Daddy,” I whispered again, slumping back against the wall.

I threw on a pair of running shorts and a bright yellow tube top that accented my deep tan coloring. By the time I got back down stairs, Jill was gone. Dad was fixing his favorite, breakfast burritos. Usually too much food, way too much for the large tortilla, I always made him cut the portions. It was a game between us. We ate almost silently. We talked, shared a few words about the day, plans, normal chat. Finishing, Dad announced he was going to jump in the shower.

I sat, finishing my coffee. My mind was racing again. I ran my hands over the table, my mind placing Jill face down, ass up at my place, her tits mashed about here, my hands spreading out, fingers flared, wondering how wide her small tits would spread when pushed flat on the table. Running my hand around the edge of the table, I pictured her crotch, flush against the edge of the table, her hips bent, legs draping down, mound pulsating against the coolness of the wood. Was the table cold? Could you tip your hips up to absorb a cock being shoved into your body? My hand automatically reached to my mound again, my slit, my clit begging for a touch, an orgasm. Did she cum? How did it start? Did Dad lick her pussy? Spread her cheeks to see her wet slit? God I was getting horny sitting there.

I listened for the shower. It was going. Standing, my mind racing, I pulled my tub top off in one quick motion. My little tits reacted to the cooler air, my nipples standing erect. I cupped each breast, my thumb and finger squeezing, rolling my hardening nipple, tugging them. I bent, stripping the shorts, panties from my body. Now naked, I stepped to the table. My crotch was table high. I slid my crotch back and forth, feeling the firmness of the wood caress my mound. I could feel my slit pull sideways, back and forth as I slid several inches each way. My clit almost escaped to touch the wood. I reached, placed my hands on the table, grinding my hips harder against the table. My eyes closed, my thoughts lost in my lust. I slid my hands forward, lowering my body on the table. Cool, my breath escaped me. I slowed my descent, my hard nipples first touching the hardness of the table. I sank the final couple of inches, my breasts now mashed flat under my body.

I pictured Jill, her petite body in my same position. I heard her labored breathing as my Dad slipped his cock between her cheeks, sliding its head between her wet lips, up, down her slit, searching for, finding her hole. I tried to imagine the urgency of her cunt lips, sucking the cockhead into her body. Grasping, pulling, taking each inch as Dad pushed forward. My hips ground against the table. My clit, engorged, brushed the edge, sending a electric shock throughout my body. A moan erupted from deep inside my body. I wiggled my hips again, sliding my wet clit along the edge of the table. Involuntary spasms racked my body. My hips thrust forward, forcing my clit to grind against the table even harder. “Fuck me Daddy,” I whispered. “Please fuck your baby,” I continued.

Arching my hips, I slid a hand quickly down to my crotch. My finger dipped into my slit, flicking back and forth over my engorged clit. Seconds passed, I flicked my clit harder, faster as my body responded to me. Labored breathing, hips flexing, driving my finger along my slit, I humped my digital intruders. My mind pictured my Dad, his hands grasping each half moon, spreading them gently, his tongue reaching deep between them to find my wet gash, penetrating me, rimming my wet hole, sliding down, flicking over my sensitive bud. His teeth grabbed my clit, pulling it into his mouth, sucking, tongue flicking over faster, mashing it against the inside of his mouth. I could feel his teeth, nipping firmly to hold my clit as I humped, pulling bursa eskort up, driving down on his buried face. Suddenly, he drove his tongue deep into my hole, licking, reaming, drawing my flowing juices into his mouth.

My mind exploded. An orgasm ripped through my body, my crotch thumping the finger mashing my clit. I rubbed it for several more seconds. “Yes Daddy,” I whispered, content. Eyes closed, I relaxed, my body absorbing all the feelings pulsating through my cunt, spreading throughout my body. Breathing returning to normal.

Fingers intertwining in my hair, pulling my head back. A hand on my hip, Dad’s body pulling tight against my body, rocking back and forth, grinding against my sex and ass. His hard, firm cock, sliding between my cheeks. Our bodies, rocking forward, pulling back, slapping forward, hips and flesh slapping hard. Humping, grinding bodies, flesh, lust. Hips arched, cock sliding up, down my wet slit. Penetrating, head forced, popping through my opening. A second hand grabbing my other hip bone. Pulling my body back, pulling, pushing his cock in, invading, penetrating, thrusting hard, deep. My breath escapes. Wild eyed, lust, grinding my hips, my muscles sucking, twitching with each little thrust, withdrawal, thrust again. I feel his penetration, sliding deep, hard into my body. Grinding each inch, invading. Pulling out, my lips stretch, grasping his cock, pulling it back in. Then thrust forward hard. His hips slap my ass, the noise exploding, filling the kitchen. Grunting, I absorb his thrust.

“Fuck me Daddy,” I scream.

Thrust after thrust, I absorb his rough penetrations, my body screaming, my lust building, my orgasm festering, reaching closer to exploding forth, filling my body with fire. Our sex, noisy, squishy sounds, juices leaking out, covering his rigid cock, balls slapping my clit. My finger flicks back and forth over my clit. Harder, faster my finger races, the cock invading me, filling me. Slap after slap, his hips jam forward, his cock buried balls deep, grinding, forcing each little fraction of an inch more, driving deep. Groans, grunts fill the room mixed with the noises of our bodies. Piston like, he hammers my cunt. Long, hard strokes. My cunt is on fire, my nerves raw. My finger bringing my clit to orgasm under his powerful strokes. Almost there. My eyes close tight. Body tenses. Orgasm! My body explodes, juices flood from my hole. Dad’s cock, slick, slides easier.

“Oh fuck baby,” Dad growled Mind lost! Rational thought gone. Lust controlled! Dad starts faster, harder thrusts into my body, convulsing on its own now. Over my clit, sensitive, driving hard. Dad pulls himself into my body, fingers digging into my hip bones. Pulling, grinding his cock deep. I feel him arch. Table squeaks. Dad grunted loudly. I could feel his cock expand, and spit cum into my body. Squirt after squirt, blast after blast erupted from his magnificent cock. My body grew warm, tingling, my cunt filled with spasms, muscles milking his cock. My muscles grabbed his deflating cock, pulling, sucking it deep, draining any fluids remaining. Body sweating, a film of perspiration covering us. Breathing ragged, deep. Silence.

We remain attached, our bodies joined. Normalcy returns, breathing slows. Dad grinds himself against me. My spasms are pushing his cock out of my body. I arch my hips, my cunt sucking his softening cock back in. I want it in me. I want to feel it. Dad’s hands, soft, caress my ass, over the small of my back, up my spine, over the sides, and back down for another pass. Nothing has been said. We are both lost to our desires, feeling, absorbing the aftermath of our sex.

“I love you Daddy,” I whisper.

Dad pulled his deflated cock out of my cunt. My legs, splayed wide, almost ached as I pulled them together. I pushed my torso up, pulling my feet under me. As I stood, Dad wrapped his strong arms around me. Turning me, he pulled me close to his body, wrapping his strapping arms totally around me, a protective shield from the outside world. We rocked together. I listened to his heart beating in his chest. Dad scooped me in his arms, and carried me upstairs to his room. Placing me gently on his bed, he laid beside me, spooned, his arms around me. “I love you too baby,” Dad whispered softly. We drifted to sleep.

Several hours passed. Waking, eyes shut tight, I stretch, elongating my form, toes reaching down, arms high over my head. A complete, full body stretch. My mind is flooded, thoughts racing through my head. My eyes fly open, I search the room. Dad’s room! His bed! I was not dreaming. I reached to his pillow, pulling it to my nose. Inhaling, I smell my father. Rolling over, I glance around the bedroom, then out the door. Dad’s nowhere to be found. A note, left on his side of the bed, instructs me to get a shower. He is off to teach his first accelerated class for the early summer session.

I head back to my room. Over the next hour, I took a long, hot shower, shaving my legs, underarms, and putting lotion all over my body. Supple, soft, I admire myself in the mirror. “Not too shabby,” as my Dad always quotes. I grinned ear-to-ear. I got redressed in my outfit for the day, grabbed lunch, then headed out to do some shopping. I had in mind a new Barbie doll outfit for sleepwear. I wondered how long it would stay on.

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