More than 25 twisted bedtime stories…

I’m as forbidden as it gets, but that won’t stop them. These men want me,
and even though they’re my fathers, my uncles, my blood, I let them inside.

I don’t care if it’s wrong. I need their hands on my skin and their lips on
mine.

Nothing will stop us from crossing that taboo line.

Author’s note: This short story collection contains taboo sexual content
involving blood-related characters, as well as dubious consent, cheating
(on side characters), group sex, pregnancy and breeding kink. Be aware
that this list is non-exhaustive. With over 25 stories in the collection, there
are simply too many tropes and triggers to list. Please read responsibly.
©2023 Margot Scott

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from
the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or
locations is purely coincidental. All characters are productions of the author’s imagination. This work
is intended for adults aged eighteen or older.

Independently Published
 Contents

Hard at Work
Never Grow Up
In Too Deep
Sheltered
Sweet Dreams
Baring It All
Active Duty
Roughing It
The Best Man
Down and Dirty
Tight Fit
Don’t Let Go
Anything For You
Make You Mine
Don’t Peek
Playing House
Pack Master’s Princess
Take it Off
Party Favors
Hard Drive
Bumpy Ride
Stay With Me
Breaking and Entering
Little Star
Private Dancer
Daddy, It’s Cold Outside

About Margot
 Hard at Work

My dad ’ svoice thunders from down the hall. “Lily! In my office. Now.”
I roll my eyes. What the hell does he want this time? I finish typing a
text to my lazy-ass boyfriend, reminding him to call me when he gets out of
work so I know he’s not off getting drunk with his low-life friends. Pushing
up from my desk, I leave the empty reception area and head for my dad’s
office at the end of the hall.
The door is open, so I don’t bother knocking. “What, Daddy?”
He doesn’t even look up from his desk. “Where’s the McKenzie file I
asked for?”
“It should be there.”
“It’s not.”
I fold my arms. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you.”
My dad sighs and leans back in his leather chair. There are wrinkles in
his white shirt and I can tell he’s been running his hands through his new
haircut. He’s frustrated. Well, so am I. This is my first summer back from
college. I should be on the beach with my friends, letting my boyfriend rub
suntan lotion on my back. I should not be holed up in my dad’s law office
answering inane phone calls and pushing papers—as in actual paper. It’s
like he refuses to move into the twenty-first century.
 Of course, if I hadn’t gotten fired from my last job for checking my
phone too much, I wouldn’t be here. Hard asses thought I couldn’t
multitask. Whatever. My boss was a total asshole anyway.
Not unlike my current boss.
“Lily, I need that file. Go check and see if you missed it. Please.” He
says the word please like it was an afterthought, as if my time isn’t worth
anything.
I clench my teeth and turn to go—
“Are these the files you’re looking for, sir?” Mina, my dad’s assistant
and technically my direct supervisor, sweeps past me into the room with a
file between her shoddily manicured fingers.
She sets the folder on the desk. My dad checks the contents, then flashes
her an appreciative smile. “Thank you, Mina. It’s nice to see someone
around here is still willing to put in some effort.”
I roll my eyes. “Can I go now?”
“For now, yes,” he says. “But I need you to stay late tonight.”
I scoff. “Daddy, I can’t. I have to meet Kevin.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if you have to meet God himself. I need you to
stay and help move those files from the back-office cabinets into the new
storage room.”
“But, Dad—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Lily. You can either stay and help or leave now
and never come back. But good luck finding another employer that’ll take
someone with no skills and zero work ethic.”
Mina’s smile is smug, her lipstick so two years ago. My dad turns his
attention to his computer screen. My eyes burn, seeing red.
“I have skills.”
“Like what? Besides getting on your knees for that shithead boyfriend
of yours.” He snickers at the horrified look on my face. “You don’t think
your mom and I know what you two get up to in the family room after
dark? Please. If you put half as much effort into your job here as you do
keeping that little prick happy, you’d be my star employee.”
My throat tightens. I can think of a million awful names I want to call
him, but they all get stuck in my throat like garbage in a drain pipe. All I
can manage is a quiet, “I hate you.”
“Right now, I’m not too fond of you either, sweetheart.” My dad
motions for me to leave. “Now go do your job before I find someone who
will.”
I turn on my heel. As soon as I leave the room, I hear a sigh. I stop.
“She’s a smart kid,” my dad says. “I just wish she’d apply herself.”
“Lily needs a firm hand,” Mina says. “You’re not doing her any favors
by coddling her. Next time she crosses a line, there have to be real
consequences. It’s the only way she’s going to grow up.”
Bitch.
I continue down the hall, stopping to grab a diet soda from the break
room before returning to my desk. I text Kevin to let him know I won’t be
coming over, then load up a game on my phone and settle in for the rest of
my shift.
It’s going to be a long one.
Four hours later, feet and back aching from carrying box after box of
dusty old files into the storage room, I’m seriously considering giving up
my job and taking up sex work. My dad’s been shut up in his office since
just after five, and I haven’t seen Mina in almost an hour. I glance around at
the piles of folders on the floor and the wall of cabinets they’re supposed to
go into.
There’s no way I can do all this tonight. He’s going to have to let me
finish tomorrow.
I grab my phone and pad down the hall to my dad’s office barefoot,
having ditched my heels hours ago. The door is closed, but not locked, and I
don’t bother knocking before turning the knob. My brain can’t compute
what my eyes are seeing.
Mina, with her shirt open, on her knees.
My dad’s cock in her mouth.
I freeze. Not just because of how shocking the scene is, but because my
dad’s cock is massive. I’m used to Kevin’s average inches and reasonable
girth. The thought of being fucked by something that huge makes my knees
quake for reasons I don’t want to think about.
Figures a big mouth like Mina would be able to handle a fat cock.
Watching her lips move up and down his shaft makes my pussy clench.
I can't help it. My dad's a handsome man, always has been, but seeing him
like this, I know exactly what my mom saw in him all those years ago.
Speaking of my mom, I can’t imagine she’d be too happy to learn about
her husband fucking his secretary.
I unlock my phone and snap a few pictures of the two of them going at
it. Finally, I have something I can use to make my summer back home a hell
of a lot easier: leverage. If I play this right, I’ll never have to set foot in this
stuffy office again. But the paychecks will keep on coming.
These photos are my ticket to Easy Street.
“Oh my God!” I cry out dramatically.
They immediately separate. My dad zips his hard, fat cock back inside
his slacks, as Mina scrambles to button her shirt over her sad-looking tits.
He rises from his chair and has the gall to look annoyed as I stare him
down.
Just try and fire me now, Daddy.
He turns to Mina. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nods. I catch her eye as she rushes past me and out the door. Not so
smug now, are you, bitch?
“Did you forget how to knock?” my dad snaps.
 I balk at him. “How was I supposed to know you’d be in here getting
blown by your assistant?”
He slips a hand into his pocket, drawing my gaze downward. His pants
are still tight in the crotch. For some reason, this fact makes me feel warm
all over. “What the hell did you need anyway?”
“I was going to tell you that I’ll be back in the morning to finish
organizing the storage room.” I stand up straighter. “Now I don’t have to,
because I won’t be coming back ever again.”
“You’re quitting?” He gestures to his dick. “Over this?”
I saunter around him and take a seat in his fancy leather chair. “While
you were busy getting deep-throated, I took it upon myself to snap a few
photos. I can only imagine what Mom will say when she sees them.”
His gaze hardens. “You sent those photos to your mother?”
“Not yet. But I will, unless you do everything I tell you to.”
My dad’s hands fist at his sides as if he wants to ring my neck. “All
right. Let’s hear your demands.”
I rest my feet on his desk. “I want a raise.”
“I thought you said you aren’t coming back.”
“I’m not. But you’re going to keep giving me a paycheck through the
end of the summer.”
He sneers. “Anything else?”
My pulse flutters. This is going way better than I expected. “I want to
throw a party. A big one, and invite all my friends from college, and I want
you to pay for it. I want an allowance, five hundred—no! A thousand
dollars a week, cash, on top of my regular paycheck.”
He folds his arms. “That’s all?”
“No! I want...a car. A red MINI Cooper!”
“A convertible?”
“Yes!” My smile consumes my face. I can already see myself driving
down the coast with the wind in my hair and the music blaring.
 He scratches his chin, like he’s mulling the whole thing over. His gaze
narrows.
“No.”
I scowl. “What do you mean, no? If Mom finds out—”
“Your mom and I are separating. She couldn’t care less who I fuck.”
I barely have time to process this news before he’s towering over me.
“Trying to blackmail your boss is a fireable offense.” He braces himself
on the arms of the chair, caging me in. “Trying to blackmail your father?
That’s personal.”
My throat tightens. I can practically feel the anger rolling off him in
waves.
“I've had a long and stressful day,” he says. “And when I have long,
stressful days, I like to unwind by getting my dick sucked. But you, in your
selfishness, have managed to ruin that course of action, alongside
everything else. I'd be impressed if I weren't standing here in blue-ball
hell.”
My bottom lip quivers, but I doubt crying is going to help my cause.
I’ve fucked up. Big time. If he wasn’t going to fire me before, he sure as
shit will now. Hell, he might even kick me out of the house.
I’m as good as roadkill.
He cups my chin and turns my head to whisper in my ear, “Now would
be a good time to start begging for forgiveness, baby girl.”
I swallow hard. He stands up straight, arms folded over his chest, his
gaze cold.
“Daddy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!”
He doesn't move or respond. I try again.
“Daddy, please, I didn't mean to—”
“You'd sound a lot more convincing on your knees.”
My heart is pounding. I slide onto the carpet in front of him. He’s still
hard. I can’t look up without coming face-to-face with his monster erection.
That, and the adrenaline coursing through my veins, makes my pussy throb.
He catches me staring at his cock.
“See what you’ve done?” He rubs himself through his slacks. “I could
be balls-deep in pussy right now. Instead, I’m standing here with sore nuts,
dealing with you.”
Something dark flashes in his eyes, the glint of an idea I’m not sure I’m
going to like.
“What do you think we should do about that?” he asks.
“I don’t know, Daddy.”
His frown curls into a wicked grin. “Tell you what, sweetheart. You
show me you’re capable of doing a good job—any job, but in this case, a
blow job—and I’ll consider forgiving you for being a vindictive, spoiled
bitch. Who knows, you might even get to keep your miserable job.”
My eyes widen. He can’t be serious.
“But first,” he says, “show me those perky tits.”
Holy shit, he’s dead serious.
My hands shake as I unbutton my shirt and let it fall from my shoulders.
I can’t believe I’m doing this, but if it’s the only way I can atone for what I
tried to do to him, I’ll do it. Because if he throws me out, I have nowhere
else to go. And if I’m being completely honest, the thought of getting up
close and personal with my dad’s fat cock makes my clit tingle.
I unclasp my bra and remove it. His eyes drink me in. He reaches down
to squeeze my breasts before unzipping his slacks and pulling out his thick
cock. It’s even bigger than I remember; my fingers barely touch when I
wrap my hand around it. Glancing up at him, I pump his shaft a few times
to get a feel for him.
My dad exhales, his eyelids going heavy. I wonder if this is the first
time he’s ever thought about me like this. The satisfaction in his gaze tells
me it’s not. I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock. He shudders.
Slowly, I work my tongue all the way down his shaft and back up. I’m not
sure how I’m going to fit him in my mouth, so I focus my attentions on the
head, kissing and licking.
When I’m ready, I take a deep breath and wrap my lips around the head,
taking the whole tip into my mouth.
My dad’s hand tangles in my hair. I drool as much as I can down his
shaft and jerk my hand in time with my lips. Little by little, I take more of
him, coming up for air and then going back down. My jaw aches. I ignore
the pain and concentrate on the pleasure I’m giving him, and how much it
turns me on.
Before I even realize I’m doing it, my hand finds its way under my
skirt. My clit is hard and ultra-sensitive. I barely have to touch it before I’m
shaking like a frightened chihuahua. My dad’s hips start to buck; I doubt he
can help himself. I make my hand an extension of my mouth so it feels like
he’s thrusting into something deeper, like my pussy... I moan at the thought.
“Are you touching yourself?”
Mortified, I stop everything. When I glance up at my dad, his cheeks are
ruddy and his eyes are dark.
“Stand up, Lily.” When I don’t, he makes me, grasping my shoulders
and hauling me to my feet. He reaches under my skirt to feel my panties.
His mouth tips up at the corners. “Well, I’ll be damned. My baby girl's
enjoying herself.”
My face burns like an inferno. I can't help rocking against his hand as he
pets me. It feels so fucking good. He kisses my mouth, his tongue sliding
past my lips. His cock bumps my stomach as he tugs my panties down.
“Daddy, we can’t—” I gasp at the illicit thrill I feel as he cups my pussy.
“On the desk,” he says.
I hop up on his desk. He pushes my skirt up and then spreads my knees.
The look he gives my pussy takes my breath away.
“It kills me to think you’ve been wasting this gorgeous pussy on some
inexperienced fuckboy.” He runs two fingers along my slit. “It’s time you
let a man show you how it’s done.”
Tendrils of pleasure weave their way from my groin throughout the rest
of my body. He spreads my lips, then teases my clit with his center finger,
which he then slips inside me. I moan as he finger-fucks me slowly, and the
look on his face makes my nipples harden. I can’t not touch them.
He guides me back onto the desk with a hand at my throat, then bends
to kiss my breasts. He licks my nipples and then sucks them, biting gently.
My breasts aren’t what you’d call big, but they’re round and firm and my
dad seems to like the fact that he can fit them in his mouth. He kisses a trail
down my stomach, pausing to bite the places where my hip bones jut. My
pussy flutters in anticipation of what his tongue will feel like when he
reaches my clit.
Kevin has only ever gone down on me once when he was drunk, and he
wasn't very good at it. My dad is very good at it. Within seconds, I'm
writhing like a water snake. He pins my hips to the desk, his gaze dark and
foreboding.
“Knock over my files and I'll spank your ass until it's as pink as your
pussy.”
Excitement trills through me. My dad hasn’t spanked me since I was a
little girl.
He fucks me with his fingers, smoothing his tongue over my clit again
and again. I know it’s wrong, what we’re doing, but it feels too good to
stop. Thinking about his hand on my ass, coming down hard, teaching me a
lesson, makes me ache for a time when I was his favorite girl, even when I
was bad. I remember how right it felt to lay across my dad’s lap and take his
punishments. I want him to show me who's boss, here and now.
I want him to spank me.
I rest my hand on the McKenzie file. My pussy throbs. As soon as my
orgasm hits me, I arch my back and push the folder off the desk. Papers
scatter across the floor. I moan.
 Daddy looks up from between my legs. “Now, you're gonna get it.”
He flips me over so that I'm bent over the desk with my ass in the air
and my feet barely touching the floor. His hand comes down hard on my
right cheek. It hurts a lot more than I bargained for.
“Act like a brat and expect to be punished like a brat.”
His hand is so big. Big enough to cover my whole ass cheek. Each time
he spanks me, he follows up with a firm grab, pressing the burning heat into
my flesh. I wriggle against the desk. As much as it hurts, it feels amazing
when he glides his fingertips over my cheeks—better than it would’ve if he
hadn't spanked me first. It’s the pain that makes the pleasure feel like
heaven in comparison. Just like my dad’s other punishments—groundings,
menial tasks, bed without supper—exist in order to teach me how to be a
better daughter, a better employee.
He spanks me five more times on the right and six on the left.
Afterward, he skates his fingers across my burning flesh. My whole body
tingles. He dips between my legs to feel how slick I am, and has no trouble
fitting three fingers inside me.
“I was going to come in your mouth,” he says, “but this pussy's too
juicy to pass up.”
I gasp. My dad wants to fuck me. As horny as I am, I can’t ignore the
twinge of panic I feel at the thought of him coming inside me. It would be
the ultimate sin. I could never look at him the same way again, let alone
face my mother.
“Daddy, we can’t.”
He shushes me gently, smoothing a hand down my back.
“I’m the boss, sweetheart.” He rubs my lips with the head of his cock.
“This is all part of the job.”
I moan as he thrusts into my pussy, burying himself in my heat. My
heart pounds wildly. He's done it. He's put his dick inside me. And I can't
believe how good it feels, so big and hard and dirty.
 My dad draws back and then fills me again with a low groan. “How the
hell are you this tight?”
I'm no virgin, but Kevin's dick is hardly thicker than my three fingers,
while Daddy's cock more than strains my seams. His hands grip my hips as
he finds his rhythm, not too fast and not too slow. The folder on the desk
beneath my pelvis is thick enough to rub my clit against, making my pussy
flutter and clench him tightly.
His fingertips bite into my hips. He picks up speed, his thrusts coming
harder, his grunts more desperate. He wants to come inside me. I've never
even let Kevin do that, always insisting he wear a condom, even when he
pouts about it.
Daddy pulls his dick out all the way, then shoves it back inside. It’s like
being fucked by a battering ram. He does it a few more times, then spreads
my cheeks to press his thumb to my tight back hole. I rub-rub-rub my pussy
against the folders, so turned on I think I might explode. Everything about
this moment is forbidden, from the man who's fucking me to how he's going
about it.
The pressure builds between my thighs until I can't hold back. I come,
quick and sharp like my mother's slap that one time I called her a cunt. My
dad must feel it, too, because he's fucking me so hard it hurts. I love it. I
want to remember this feeling for the rest of the week, every time I sit
down.
His pelvis spanks my ass with every thrust, making my already sore
bottom prickle. “Fuck, baby girl, I'm gonna come.”
I can already feel his cock pulsing.
“Do it, Daddy,” I beg. “I want you to.”
He groans. His cock slams into me and his rhythm slows. Wet heat coats
my pussy and drips out onto Daddy's files. He pushes inside me as far as he
can and then stops. When he slips out a few seconds later, I'm too exhausted
and overwhelmed to do more than sigh.
 My dad kisses my shoulder and slides a hand between my thighs to coat
two fingers in his cum, which he uses to massage and then enter my
asshole. I moan; there’s not a single part of me he hasn’t penetrated.
“That’s my good girl,” he says, and my face flushes.
I smile. “Thank you, Daddy. Does this mean I get to keep my job?”
“No.”
I tense. “Why not?”
“Because you’ve been promoted. Your new position is bent over my
desk, like you are now. And your new title is Daddy’s Favorite Fucktoy.”
He points to the McKenzie file scattered across the floor. “Now get on your
hands and knees and clean up your mess.”
I don’t even have to force the words, “Yes, sir.”
 Never Grow Up

“Y ou can ’ t be a baby forever, Ariel. One of these days you’re going to

have to grow up.”
My mother stands in the center of my room with her arms crossed and
lips curled in disgust. She gestures to my things: my pink polka-dotted
bedspread, my porcelain fairy collection, the tiered stack of stuffed animals
on my reading chair.
“Your bedroom looks like a time capsule,” she says. “You’re nineteen
years old for God’s sake. It’s time you got rid of this shit.”
I don’t say a word. She hates my silence more than if I were to talk
back, not that I would.
Not to her face, anyway.
“Like this.” She grabs a stuffed brown bear from the pile. His name is
Brownie; my dad gave him to me when I was six. “Where did you even get
this?” She waves the bear around, and I can already hear the stitches
tearing.
I spring up from the bed. “Mom, don’t!”
But it’s too late. The body detaches from the head and falls to the floor.
Stuffing spills out, puffs of white against the pink carpet. I drop to my knees
and cradle Brownie’s limp form against my chest. My mom dumps the head
at her feet.
 “It’s just as well,” she says. “You don’t need it. When I get back from
my trip, most of these had better be gone. Do I make myself clear?”
I stare at Brownie’s head, at his black-button eyes staring back at me. I
start to cry.
“Ariel!”
“Yes,” I splutter.
“You have two weeks,” she says. “Make them count.”
My mother turns on her heel and leaves. She doesn’t bother to shut the
door behind her, though it was closed before she barged in ten minutes ago
to accuse me of stealing her lipstick. I never even touched her lipstick. Plum
Rose isn’t my color. It isn’t hers either, if you ask me.
I hear the garage door open and close, then open again soon after. Great,
I think. What else did she forget to ruin? Footsteps on the stairs, heavier
than my mother’s, make me glance at the doorway in time for my dad to see
me crying.
“Hey, princess,” he says, standing in the door frame, all six-foot-four of
him. “What’s wrong?”
I wipe my eyes on my sweater sleeve. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” My dad kneels on the carpet beside me, his
baseball mitt of a hand squeezing my shoulder. His brown eyes are kind and
wide with concern. “Did you get a little rough with him?”
I shake my head no. “Mom did.”
My dad sighs heavily, scrubbing his dark beard. “Was it an accident?”
“No. Yes. Kind of.” The tears won’t stop. “She says I have to get rid of
all my stuffed animals before she comes back. She says I’m a baby, and that
it’s time for me to grow up, and if I don’t, you guys will stop paying my
college tuition.”
“Your mom has a lot of opinions about how people should live their
lives. But don’t worry. I’m the one who pays your tuition.” He rubs my
back. “You’ll always be my baby girl, but you’re not a baby. You’re a sweet
girl who likes sweet things. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”
I smile. My dad has always had a talent for calming me down, from my
early months as a colicky infant to tears shed over pushy boyfriends in high
school. He’s never once mocked or judged me when I chose cotton-candy
flavored ice cream over toffee-crunch, and he doesn’t tell me I look childish
when I tie my hair in pigtails.
Frankly, I’m not sure what he sees in my mother, besides her body. She
does keep herself fit. I’m naturally skinny, but that doesn’t stop her from
giving me side-eye every time I reach for a cookie.
My dad pulls me into a hug, with Brownie’s body between us, and
smooths my dark, bone-straight hair. He kisses the top of my head. I love
the way he smells. I love how big and strong he is, and how a hug from him
still manages to make me feel little when the rest of the world expects me to
be a big girl. I may not know what he sees in my mother, but I know exactly
what she sees in him: a kind, compassionate, handsome bear of a man who
can protect and provide for his family. If I were ever to fall in love and get
married, I would want it to be with someone like my dad.
“Hey.” He wipes the tears from my cheeks with the sleeve of his suit
jacket, then picks up Brownie’s head. “How about we take this guy to my
workshop and fix him up?”
He offers his hand and helps me to my feet. I follow him downstairs to
the workshop-slash-gym he built for himself when we moved into this
house.
“I told you I used to be a combat medic, didn’t I?”
“Only a few thousand times.”
He chuckles. “Well, I’ve got lots of experience suturing all kinds of
wounds.” He pulls a metal box from a drawer at the bottom of his
workbench. “I’ll have this guy patched up and ready for cuddles in no
time.”
 He reaches to take Brownie’s body from me, then stops, smiles.
Wedging his hands beneath my arms, he lifts me up and onto the
workbench. I laugh and swing my feet, so far from the ground.
“Now, you hold him steady while I perform the operation.” He adjusts
the rollaway stool so that his eyes are more-or-less level with the bear in my
lap, then gets to work reattaching the head. His stitches are measured,
careful and precise. In no time at all, Brownie is whole again.
I hug the bear tight to my chest. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“No problem, princess. Gosh, you haven’t called me Daddy in a long
time.” He pats my knee, and his gaze snags on something in front of him.
That’s when I realize how short my skirt is and how far apart my thighs are.
I’m sure he can see my panties. In fact, he’s probably had a perfect view
of them for the past twenty minutes. The thought should bother me, but for
some reason, it doesn’t. My daddy loves me, every big and little thing about
me. He can look where he wants.
He clears his throat. “Ready to hop down?”
“Okay.” I rest my hands on his shoulders to brace myself as he lifts and
lowers me. Once I’m on my feet, I turn my loose hold into a tight hug.
Something hard pushes against my belly.
“What’s that?”
His shoulders tense under my fingers. He pulls back, stuffing his hands
into his pockets. “It’s just my wallet, princess.”
“Oh.” I was pretty sure I hadn’t felt it when he hugged me upstairs, but
we’d both been kneeling on the floor then.
Three quick strides of his long legs and he’s at the door. “Why don’t
you bring Brownie upstairs?”
I watch him turn and leave, puzzled by his dismissive tone and abrupt
exit. With Brownie in my arms, I head into the main house and up the stairs
to the master bedroom. My dad has left the door slightly ajar. I peek inside,
but I don’t see him. Then I hear the spray of water from the shower in the
attached bath.
“Dad?” I knock gently on the door frame and step into the room. His
suit is folded on the bed. The bathroom door is closed. I tiptoe over and
press my ear to the door.
The door swings open.
“Ariel?” Something like fear flashes in my dad’s eyes. He’s shirtless, his
muscles and chest hair on full display, and holding a towel around his waist.
I gasp at the enormous tent poking out from the front of his towel. He has a
hardon—a massive one, by the look of it. He must’ve gotten it downstairs
from staring at my panties. “Princess, you shouldn’t be in here.”
My heart races. I can feel it beating at the tips of my fingers and
between my legs. A deep throbbing that makes me want to touch myself. I
can’t stop staring at my dad’s boner. He puts his hand over it, tries to press
it down, but it has a mind of its own, like it wants me to see it.
And the soft, supple, girlish parts of me want to see it, too.
I love my daddy. Before this moment, it had never occurred to me that I
might be in love with him, too. But seeing him like this, half-naked and
aroused because of me, I find I want to do things to him that I’ve never
done with anyone. Sexy things. Grown-up things. I want to kiss him and
scratch my baby-blue fingernails down his chest. I want him to drop his
towel so I can see his cock. I want to touch it. I want to taste it.
I want him to put it inside me.
“Daddy...” I sigh the word as I move toward him and press a kiss to his
collar bone. His body is tense, like he’s not sure what to do. I make it easy
for him by taking his hand and putting it to my breast.
“Princess, what are you doing?”
“I’m showing you how much I love you.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart. But you can’t be here right now. I’m about
to take a shower.”
 “So you can jerk off?” I feel the head of his cock poking at my skirt.
Lifting my skirt, I guide his towel-clad cock between my legs, so the head
is touching my panties. “It’s okay. I’m horny, too. We can do it together.”
He groans softly. “Baby, no, I can’t—”
“I’m not a baby, Daddy. You said so yourself.”
I back away from him, all the way to my parents’ bed. He watches
intently as I slide my skirt to the floor. Setting Brownie on the bed, I climb
on and straddle the bear so that my dad can see my pussy pressed against
the brown fluff. Then, I start to hump.
“Ariel, honey...” His gaze is locked on my panties as I grind my clit
over Brownie’s nose, testing the strength of his stitches. It feels amazing—
even better knowing my dad is taking in the show. His cock jumps beneath
the terry cloth.
The towel falls.
I can’t help freezing at the sight of my dad’s cock, so big and
intimidating, rising out from a nest of dark hair. I feel like Goldilocks
caught with the porridge. He really is a bear. A huge, strong, hungry bear
that wants to eat me for supper.
“Show me that pretty pussy,” he says, taking hold of his cock and
stroking.
I lean back on the bed and slip my panties off, then spread my legs. My
dad approaches, stroking and wagging his dick like he’s warming it up,
getting it ready for me. He lays a hand on my knee, then caresses my inner
thigh until his thumb is touching my pussy lips.
My pulse sprints like crazy. He wets his mouth and smiles wickedly as
he teases my folds open.
“Just look at all that gorgeous honey.” He glides a slickened finger over
my clit, sending shocks of pleasure through my bloodstream. “Is this all for
Daddy?”
 I nod yes. He hooks both hands under my knees and pulls me to the
edge of the bed, then he kneels on the floor in front of me. He kisses a line
down my inner thigh, all the way to my pussy. I whimper at the soft, wet
heat of his tongue against my clit. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Nothing like my fingers, nothing like humping Brownie or one of my other
stuffed animals. It’s intense and direct. It makes me twitch and tremble.
“Does that feel good, princess?”
“It feels great, Daddy.” I roll my hips to show him I mean it. He licks
me again, then nibbles my pussy lips and slides his tongue inside me as far
as it’ll go.
I moan. I’ve never had anything inside me, not even fingers or tampons.
All of my exes have begged me to let them finger-fuck me, but for some
reason, it just never felt right. This feels right. If any man is going to make
love to me, I want it to be the man I love more than anyone else in the
world.
My dad fucks me with his tongue, the short hair of his beard tickling my
lips and thighs. I rest my hand on the top of his head, not to move him, but
to feel connected. He withdraws and licks his lips.
“I knew you were sweet, but fuck, princess, your pussy is like candy. I
can’t get enough.” He licks my clit and sucks it gently like a tiny lollipop he
wants to get to the center of. I hold myself up on shaky arms so I can watch
him. My daddy, the greatest man I’ve ever known, making me feel so good.
I want to make him feel good, too.
“Daddy, can I taste you?”
Excitement flashes in his blue eyes. He lifts his head, wiping his mouth
with the back of his hand. “Sure, sweetheart. Here, lie on top of me. We can
do it together.”
He lays down on the bed and positions me on top of him so that my
thighs are straddling his head and his cock is in my face. It’s even more
impressive up close.
 “Is this what they call sixty-nining?” I ask.
“Yeah, it is.” He squeezes my ass cheeks. “I take it you’ve never tried
this before with your boyfriends?”
“I’ve never tried anything before, with anyone.”
His cock jumps, tapping me on the chin. I giggle. “Did you do that on
purpose?”
“Nope. That was all you, princess.”
He brings my pussy down to his mouth and resumes licking my clit. I
rest my cheek on the underside of his cock. It’s so warm. I kiss and stroke it
softly with my fingers, like an animal I’m meeting for the first time. I give
the knotted ridge below the head a few test licks, which make my dad lose
his rhythm on my clit.
Clearly, I’m onto something.
I lick the glob of clear liquid at the tip, swirl my tongue around the
head. Pivoting his cock by the base, I raise it and take the head into my
mouth. It’s so big, I have to open really wide to get it to fit. My dad groans.
I suck gently at first, trying to get a feel for how much is too much, all
while taking him in as far as I can handle. I can only manage about two-
thirds of the way.
He continues to lick my clit, building up the pressure. I find myself
grinding against his tongue. With his cock in my mouth, I feel the pleasure
mounting, cresting like a wave that I know is going to drown me. I switch
to jerking him off with my hand—which is easy because his cock is already
so slick—and brace for the intensity of my orgasm.
My muscles tighten. My clit throbs. I moan and cry, bucking as he holds
me steady with those big bear paws. The same ones that taught me how to
drive stick and tie my shoelaces. He laps at me, slow and firm, making me
shiver in the wake of my orgasm. I rest my cheek on his thigh for a second,
pausing my hand job to kiss and pet his balls.
 He places a peck on my clitoris, then eases me off him so he can sit up
against the headboard. I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he pulls me
onto his lap, rubbing my back and then squeezing my breasts through my
sweater.
“Arms up,” he says.
I raise my hands in the air so he can pull my shirt off. My breasts are
small enough that I don’t have to wear a bra, though my mom is always
telling me to wear one anyway so my nipples don’t stick out.
“I fucking love your little tits,” he says. “I have such a hard time not
staring at them when you walk around the house in those thin nightshirts.”
“You don’t think they’re too small?”
“Not at all, baby girl.” He teases my left nipple and dips his head to kiss
the right one. “They’re a perfect mouthful.”
I bite down on my lip as he covers my whole tit with his mouth. His
tongue smooths over the hardened tip, then flicks it. My pussy tightens, and
my clit is starting to ache all over again. He switches to my other breast and
does the same thing, back and forth, using his thumb to tease the one not
currently being devoured.
My hands find his cock, still stiff and pressed against my abdomen. I
wrap both hands around it and stroke down. My dad moans, and the
vibrations of the sound echo into my tit. He lays his hand over mine,
guiding his cock between my legs. I glide my slick pussy along the shaft.
“I want to make you come, too,” I whisper. He smiles and kisses me on
the mouth. I can taste my pussy on him, so sweet. His tongue is bigger than
mine. I suck on it like I sucked his cock. He rubs his hand over my pussy
and slips a finger inside. I moan.
“If you want me to come, then it’s got to be inside you, princess.”
I glance down. His cock looks monstrous between my legs. Fear and
excitement zip through me at the thought of him popping my cherry.
There’s no way it won’t hurt.
 “But Daddy, what if you’re too big for me?”
“I promise, I’m not.” He eases two fingers inside me. “I’ve made you
good and wet for a reason, sweetheart. You can take it.”
“But...” I swallow hard, distracted by his fingers gliding in and out of
me. “If I get pregnant, Mom will kill me.”
“Don’t worry about your mother. If you get pregnant, we’ll tell her you
had a boy over while she was away. Mistakes happen. I won’t let her punish
you for it.”
My dad rubs the head of his cock back and forth over my clit. I rest my
forehead on his shoulder. It feels so good to be close to him. I want to be
even closer. I want him to be the first man I let inside me, the first to fill me
with cum.
Okay,” I say. “Put it in me, Daddy.”
He teases my clit until I whimper, then positions his cock at my
opening. Gripping my hips with both hands, he eases me down onto him.
He pushes harder, forcing my tight hole to accept the intrusion.
I cry out, panicked. “Daddy. Daddy, it’s too much—”
“Shh, princess. You’re okay.”
My dad holds me firmly in place as my muscles strain to adjust. Putting
more pressure on my hips, he eases me down even further. I watch his cock
disappear inside me. It burns. Not nearly as bad as I thought it would, but
still. Mostly it’s my muscles, stretching to make room for him between my
hips. After a minute, he begins to pull me off, then stops.
He kisses my jaw. “Ariel, baby, look at me.”
I meet his gaze.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says. “I love you so fucking much.”
It's just what I need to hear. “I love you, too.”
I let him move my hips, sliding my pussy up and down over his cock. A
little deeper each time, a little faster, until I start to crave it, start to need it. I
hold tight to his shoulders and seek out his mouth. I kiss him hard and wet
as he fucks me, his big fat daddy cock moving in and out. It occurs to me
that it’s not just the fact that we’re fucking that makes it so hot. There’s also
the fact that I’m fucking my father in the bed he shares with my mother.
Not such a baby anymore now, huh, Mom?
My hips have begun to adapt to the rhythm he’s set for them, freeing
one of his hands to play with my tits and tease my nipples. I buck my hips
faster, coming down on him harder and driving him deeper. I can’t believe I
waited so long to do this. But I’m glad I didn’t settle for anyone else.
Having my daddy’s big hands on me and his arms around me, knowing that
he loves me, makes the whole thing feel more than sexy, more than hot.
Perched on his lap with his cock inside me, it feels like I’m right where I
belong.
He wraps his arm around the small of my back so he can pound into me
without sending me flying. I lean back so he can suck my tits, and the new
angle shifts something inside me so that his cock is hitting areas it wasn’t
touching before. I suddenly feel the urge to bear down.
“Daddy...I don’t know...what’s happening.”
“It’s okay, honey. Whatever your body needs to do, it’s all right.”
“But...I don’t want to pee on you.”
“Oh, princess.” He fucks me harder. Shit. I’m not going to be able to
hold it if he keeps this up. “It’s not pee. You’re going to squirt. Just relax
and let it happen.”
“But, Daddy...I can't...”
I brace myself on my hands and try and let go. The need to pee is so
urgent, I want to stop and run to the toilet. But my dad is so sure that this is
something good, and I don't want to disappoint him. Instead, I close my
eyes and concentrate on the thickness of his cock and the warmth from his
body.
I can’t hold back.
 At first, it’s barely a trickle, but within seconds it’s like a spray,
shooting onto my dad’s stomach and lap. He stares at my pussy, his eyes
transfixed as I leak all over him. He doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seems
to love it.
Then, suddenly, I’m coming.
My inner muscles grasp at him, milking his cock for all it’s worth. More
fluid gushes, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. My father shouts, his
arms going tight around me as he pounds upward, pummeling my pussy and
filling me with his hot, creamy cum.
I go limp in his arms. He cradles me like something small and helpless,
holding me to his chest and rubbing my hack and shoulders.
“That was so good, princess,” he says. “You were amazing. I’m so
proud of you.”
My lips curve upward, dimpling my cheeks. He kisses me and smooths
my hair and lays me on the bed beside him. There’s no avoiding the wetness
on the sheets and blankets.
“I made a mess.”
He smiles. “You made a hot mess.”
I chuckle and snuggle closer to him. My dad gives my thigh a squeeze,
then gets up to go to the bathroom. I watch him pee through the open door.
He catches me watching, eyes me curiously, then gestures for me to join
him. I walk to the bathroom, my thighs growing slick with his cum.
He puts the seat down, then tells me to sit. I do as I’m told. Dropping to
one knee on the mat in front of the toilet, he spreads my legs and hums with
pleasure.
“Look at all that cream,” he says. I glance down in time to see a thick,
white glob drip from my pussy into the bowl. My dad catches the next drop
on his fingers, then raises it to my lips. “Have a taste.”
I suck the cum from his fingers. It’s tangy and salty, a little sweet. “I
want more.”
 My dad stands before me, playing with his cock, which is already on its
way to hard. He cradles the back of my head and I open my mouth to take
him inside.
“For the next two weeks, princess, you can have as much as you want.”
 In Too Deep

“Y ou are not wearing that .”

I cross my arms over my swimsuit top. “Why not?”
“You know exactly why not.” My dad mirrors my stance, his gaze
narrow. “It's guys’ night. You're going to be the only girl here, and I won't
have you strutting around in something that barely covers your ass.”
“Dad, it’s just a swimsuit.”
“It’s a scrap of tissue paper held together with dental floss.” He points
to my bedroom door. “Go change into something else, Candace. Now.”
“God, why do you have to be on my ass all the time?”
“Because I’m your father. That’s my job. And the only reason you're
even going tonight is because you’re grounded after that stunt you pulled
with the car. If it were up to me, you'd still be heading down to Florida with
your mom and the girls.”
I roll my eyes. Sure, being grounded sucks, but it beats sitting around
drinking virgin cocktails while my mom and her friends guzzle vodka
tonics and bitch about their marriages.
“I didn’t even want to go on that stupid girls’ trip,” I tell him. “If you
don’t want me to go tonight, then I’ll just stay home. I’m eighteen. It’s not
like I need a babysitter.”
 “No way, sweetheart. I don’t trust you not to invite a bunch of friends
over to raid my liquor cabinet.” He points to my room. “Change. Now.”
“What is the big deal?” I throw up my hands. “How is it my problem if
your buddies can’t handle looking at a bikini without coming in their
shorts?”
My dad takes two steps into my personal space. He does this a lot,
thinks he can intimidate me with his superior height. “It’s your problem if
you think you can parade around a bunch of guys wearing nothing but a
loincloth and expect them not to react accordingly. One of these days,
Candace, you're going to get what's coming to you, and you're not going to
like it.”
“I guess it depends on who’s doing the giving.”
His gaze narrows. We stare each other down until I feel a shiver ripple
along my spine.
“Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll change.”
I go into my room, slamming the door behind me. This is so fucking
lame. The only thing I had been looking forward to about the Florida trip
was getting to wear my new bikini. I was excited when I thought I’d have a
chance to wear it to the guys’ barbecue. So what if it’s supposed to be all
dudes? At least I’d be able to take some selfies by the pool.
Rifling through my dresser, I dig out my old blue one-piece from the
bottom drawer and smooth out the wrinkles. With a heavy sigh, I take off
my red bikini and change into the boring one-piece that does absolutely
nothing for my figure. I study myself in the mirror, piling my dark brown
curls atop my head. At least I still have on my bright-red lip stain—the one
my mom refused to buy me because she said it made me look like a hooker.
I went back to the store the next day and bought it anyway.
My parents think I'm a brat. Maybe I am, but in a few months, their
opinions aren’t going to matter. I’ll be off at college, where I won’t be
subject to their pointless rules and expectations. I’ll be able to wear what I
want, when I want. It’s going to be heaven.
Staring at the red bikini on my bed, I think, fuck it. Why not start
tonight? My dad’s going to have to get used to the fact that I’m no longer
his little girl. I’m a grown woman with the body to prove it.
The time for bossing me around is over.
Carefully, I fold my bikini as tightly as possible without wrinkling it and
slip it into the bottom of my beach bag. I pull a yellow sundress on over my
one-piece, letting just enough of the blue show through so that my dad can
see I’ve put on a different suit.
“Okay, I’m ready,” I say, as I walk into the kitchen to fill my water
bottle.
My dad gives me a onceover and then nods approvingly. I fight back a
smirk. He grabs his keys and opens the garage door, and I follow him out to
the car. We drive the four blocks to his friend John’s house, then walk
around the side to the backyard, where his buddies Eric and Mark are doing
their best to razz each other.
“Hey, guys.” John waves to us from his spot in front of the grill. “Glad
you could make it.”
“Glad to be here,” my dad says. “Thanks for letting Candace crash the
party on such short notice.”
“Of course.” John smiles and hands me a soda. “The more the merrier.”
Eric, my dad’s friend from college, cracks open a beer and offers it to
him. “Good to see you, Will.” He chucks me playfully under the chin. “You,
too, kiddo.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “Nice to see you, Eric.”
“Which one of you assholes is giving my drunk ass a ride home
tonight?” Mark claps my dad and Eric’s shoulders, his thousand-mega-watt
grin lighting up the already sunny patio.
“Not me,” Eric says. “I’m crashing in John’s guest room.”
 “What happened to your bike?” my dad asks.
“Brakes went,” Mark says. “I’ve gotta bring it in next week.”
My dad shrugs. “Well, yeah, sure. Candace and I can take you home.”
Of course, my dad would offer to drive Mark home. He's always been
the responsible member of their little group. Mark's the fun one, Eric's the
comic relief. John is somewhere in the middle, responsible enough to be
reliable, but fun to have at a party—especially after a few drinks.
“Aw, shucks,” Mark says, “you guys are the best.”
He turns his gorgeous grin toward me. I flash him a flirty smile. Of all
my dad's friends, Mark is my favorite. If my dad won't let me have
something, like a drag off his cigar or a sip of his beer, Mark will usually
indulge me. One time, when I was babysitting at his house, after his kids
had gone to bed, he caught me watching a video I found in his browsing
history of a girl getting fucked by three guys. He wasn’t mad, more amused
than anything. I begged him not to tell my parents, and like the cool guy
that he is, he just smiled and tickled my neck and said it would be our little
secret.
“Chips are on the table,” John says. “Dinner won’t be ready for a while,
though, so feel free to go for a dip.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Mark says. He pulls his shirt off and jumps in the
pool. Eric does the same. John checks the status of whatever deliciousness
is sizzling away on the grill, then cracks open a cold one and takes his shirt
off, too.
I’ve got to admit, for a bunch of middle-aged guys, they keep
themselves in really great shape.
Mark swims up to the edge of the pool, then splashes me. I squeal. “You
coming in, Candace, or do we have to drag you?”
Anticipation zips up my spine. “Sure, I just want to hit the restroom
first.”
 “Bathroom's next to the laundry room,” John says. “Linda wanted a
bigger pantry, so we had it moved last fall.”
“I'll be right back.” I hike my bag onto my shoulder and head into the
house.
Once I’m safely inside the bathroom, I start stripping.
Off goes the sundress and my modest one-piece. On goes the string
bikini my dad forbade me to wear. It looks even skimpier than I remember.
Thankfully, my breasts—though double-Ds—are high and firm, and I had
already gone for a Brazilian bikini wax in preparation for the trip to Florida.
I pose in front of the mirror, admiring my yoga-toned arms and flat
stomach. My dad's such a killjoy. What's the point of working my butt off
for a hot body if I can't even show it off? This suit looks amazing on me.
My dad will just have to deal with it.
Giddy with newfound confidence and the thrill of breaking my father’s
dumb rules, I strut down the hall and through the French doors leading to
the back patio.
The look on my dad’s face as he catches sight of my bikini is all the
vindication I need.
Eric whistles.
John does a double take, his gaze flitting between my dad and me.
“Damn, girl.” Mark stares at my chest, his mouth tilting into a lopsided
grin. “That's some swimsuit.”
I pop my hip. “You don't think it's too much?”
“More like too little,” John says. “Will, you seriously let her out of the
house like that?”
“No.” My dad's tone is icy. “I didn’t.”
I shrug, setting my bag down, then pull out a bottle of sunscreen and
start to work the lotion into my skin. Eric and Mark can hardly take their
eyes off me as I make my way down my chest, between my breasts, over
my stomach.
 Turning to John, I hold out the bottle. “Can you get my back for me?”
“Uh, sure.” He takes the bottle. I hold up my hair. The feel of his strong
hands smoothing the cool lotion onto my back makes me sigh.
If my dad’s look could kill, I’d be on the grill with whatever John’s
cooking.
I thank John for his help and then head over to the pool, skirting my
dad’s chair and not bothering with the ladder. I dive into the deep-end, then
surface a few feet from Mark’s irresistible smile.
“You guys want to play a game?” I ask.
Eric swims over. “Sure.”
“How about Marco Polo?”
The guys nod.
“You go first,” Mark says.
I close my eyes and call out, “Marco!”
They echo back, “Polo.”
I hold out my hands, moving in the direction of their voices. We call
back and forth a few more times, but as close as I think I am, it’s never
close enough.
“Marco!” I call again.
“Polo.”
The response comes from directly behind me. I gasp as I feel Eric’s
arms close around my waist, and something hard pushing against my ass
cheeks. Another set of hands grips my hips, and the unmistakable bulge of
an erection presses between my legs from the front.
“Polo,” Mark says, directly into my ear.
My eyes flick open. Mark’s smile is mere inches from my face, his gaze
dark. I laugh nervously. “Hey, you guys cheated.”
Eric rubs his dick against me. I feel my heartbeat between my legs. My
clit tingles and as Mark pushes toward me, and though I know I shouldn’t
be cool with it, I can’t bring myself to tell them to stop.
 Mark ogles my chest. “This really is some suit, darlin.”
I swallow. “I was planning to wear it in Florida.”
“Then it’s a damn good thing you’re grounded,” Eric says. “Five
minutes on the beach in that getup, and you’d have to beat the hordes off
you with a bat.”
“But you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Candace?” Mark cocks his head and
smiles. His blatant interest in my breasts makes my nipples harden. “You
remember that video on my laptop? The one with the chick taking all those
cocks inside her? You liked that one a lot.”
My face flushes hot.
“What video?” my dad barks.
Mark and Eric release me at the same time, seeming to come to their
senses. I have to grab for the ladder to stop myself from sinking to the
bottom.
“Your little girl snuck a peek at my bookmarks while she was
babysitting,” Mark says. “I caught her playing with herself over some
hardcore gangbang shit.”
“Really?” Eric asks, his eyes glinting.
My dad folds his arms across his bare chest. “Is that true, Candace?”
“Um...” I look between the men, my cheeks on fire. “I was only looking
at it for a minute.”
“It was more than a minute.” Mark swims up to me. His hands dart out
and start tickling me. I squeal and wriggle, trying to bat away his hands. All
the twisting and turning makes my bikini top shift.
My right breast pops out from beneath the fabric.
“Hey!” I move to cover myself, but Mark won't stop tickling me. Then
Eric rushes over to join him. I laugh and whimper pathetically, unable to
catch my breath. I look up into my dad’s eyes. “Daddy, make them stop!”
He doesn't move. Eric releases the tie around my neck, and my bra top
falls down completely. He grins. “You getting a look at these, Mark?”
 “Oh, yeah.” Mark chuckles, his voice thick with lust. “I haven't been
able to stop looking at ’em since she got here.”
My breasts bounce with my laughter. A cramp rips through my side. I
yelp.
“Your girl's got great tits, Will,” Mark says. “Mind if I cop a feel?”
My dad shrugs. “Knock yourself out.”
I can’t believe he just said that. “But, Daddy!”
Mark and Eric stop tickling me so they can hold me still. I suck in
breath after breath.
“Guys, cut it out.”
Mark and Eric ignore me, too distracted by the size and shape of my
breasts.
I bite my lip as a gush of pleasure makes my legs twitch. They pinch
and strum my nipples.
“Daddy, tell them to get off me!”
My dad just stares at me with a look of smug satisfaction. John comes to
stand beside him, his gaze wary, but riveted.
I look up into the faces of the men surrounding me, men I've known
since I was a little girl. I've slept over their houses, attended school with
their kids. John's daughter used to babysit me when my parents went on
trips. I can’t believe they would do this to me.
“Daddy please,” I whine. “Why are you letting them do this?”
“You want to dress like a whore? Don't be surprised when you get
treated like one.”
Mark licks my nipple, and I can't help the whimper that escapes my
throat. Little sparks of pleasure ignite where the guys’ fingers and tongues
touch me, echoing behind my clit. This shouldn't feel good, this attention I
didn’t explicitly ask for, but it does.
It feels wonderful.
 Eric gropes my ass, his dick hard and pushing at my hip from the right,
as Mark’s cock prods me from the left. I can't move an inch without
meeting their erections.
“Stop,” I beg. Not because I necessarily want them to, but because I feel
like I should.
Eric cups the front of my bikini bottoms. “You sure that’s what you
want?”
I moan as a dull ache of pleasure throbs between my legs.
No. I’m not sure.
“You want to fuck her?” my dad asks.
My eyes go wide.
“I mean...” Eric grins. “I wouldn’t say no.”
“Then bring her up here.”
Mark and Eric hustle me through the water to the steps on the far side of
the pool. My dad tosses the pillows off of a plush chaise lounge chair.
“Lay back so she can ride you,” my dad instructs.
Eric slips his swim shorts off and lays down on the chaise.
“Daddy?” My voice shakes.
He ignores me. “Put her on Eric’s lap.”
Mark urges me forward, moving me like a mannequin, lifting me up and
positioning me so that I’m straddling Eric’s hips. His cock jumps, tapping
my swimsuit bottoms and making me gasp.
“Help her out of those bikini bottoms, too.”
Eric pulls the string on the left at the same time Mark loosens the right.
The slip of fabric falls away, baring my hairless pussy for their perusal.
“Damn. She's so smooth.” Eric draws his thumb along my slit, wetting
my pussy lips with my own juices. I whimper. It feels so good to be touched
down there. His thumb finds my clit and I can’t help the moan that pours
from my lips as he strokes me. He slides a finger into my pussy and hums.
“See all that cream?”
 “Looks like she’s more than ready,” my dad says.
“That true?” Eric smiles at me. “You ready for me, Candace?”
I’m so horny, I can’t help myself. I bite my lip and nod.
Eric guides his cock to my opening, then urges me down. I cry out as
my pussy slides onto him, my muscles stretching to make him fit.
“Fuck yeah.” He grips my hips with both hands and starts to pump from
below, rocking my hips in time with his thrusts. I push down on his chest,
holding myself up so I can look at his face, and the faces of the other men
around me.
Mark rubs his dick through his shorts. John doesn’t touch himself, but
he’s fully erect and clearly enjoying the show. I can't believe my dad is just
standing there, watching his best friend fuck his daughter. He must be
getting something out of it, though, judging by the huge bulge he's sporting
inside his swim trunks. As soon as I notice it, I can't stop thinking about
what it must look like, how thick it is, how it would feel to let him fuck me
with it, like Eric is doing right now.
The thought makes my clit tingle and pussy clench and release. Eric
moans.
“Goddamn,” John whispers.
My dad looks at him. “What are you waiting for, man? She's got two
more holes.”
John takes a deep breath, then rakes a hand through his hair. “I dunno…
Are you sure, Will? I mean, she’s your kid.”
My dad sneers at me. “Absolutely.”
Suddenly, I get it what this is all about. My dad thinks he's teaching me
a lesson by punishing me for wearing my bikini when he told me not to.
Well, in that case, he's shit out of luck, because being fucked by a group of
hot older men is my all-time favorite fantasy. If this is my punishment, then
I'll happily wear my bikini every day for the rest of the summer.
“It's okay, John.” I lick my lips. “I want you to.”
 He twists a lock of my hair around his finger, his gaze ravenous. “I
guess it has been a while since I've had my dick sucked. Would you do that
for me, Candace?”
I answer him by teasing his shorts down. His cock jumps out, bobbing
in front of my face. He moves closer so I don't have to adjust mine and
Eric's position. I take the head of his cock into my mouth, and Eric moans at
the same time John does.
Eric’s hands tighten on my hips so he can drill me harder. I tease the
underside of John's cock with my tongue and then take him fully, bottoming
out with my chin pressed against his balls. His cock is shorter than Eric's,
but very thick. The perfect size and shape for my big, bratty mouth.
Mark's dick pokes my ass cheek as he reaches around to tease my
nipples. My pussy clenches, holding tight to Eric's cock as I ride him.
There’s so much sensation to take in from every angle. I don’t know
what to focus on. John's hand fists in my hair as he fucks my face, his hips
thrusting in time with his grunts. I can tell he's pretty close to coming,
though I've only been sucking him off for a few minutes. Poor guy. I bet his
wife hasn't done this since before his kids were born.
Two hands spread my ass cheeks. Something teases my back opening,
making me flinch. I stop sucking John's dick and glance over my shoulder.
Mark’s grin is devilish. Resting one knee on the chaise, he grips his shaft
and wedges the head of his cock between my cheeks.
“Wait,” I say, tensing with fear and arousal. “I've never... I'm not sure if
I can...”
“You can take it, sweetheart,” my dad says.
As much as I’d like to, I’m really not sure if I can.
Mark spits into his hand and lubes up his cock. “Just relax, babe.”
Relax?! How the fuck am I supposed to relax when he’s trying to put his
fat cock in my butthole? John cups my chin and draws my gaze forward. He
strokes my cheek.
 “Just concentrate on what’s in front of you, Candace.”
He presses his dick to my lips as he speaks to me, telling me I'm sexy
and beautiful, that my mouth is a gift from heaven. I close my eyes, trying
to focus on my breathing and the taste of John’s precum. Eric holds my hips
steady as Mark's cock breaches my asshole. I cry out even with the dick in
my mouth. My anus burns as he slowly works his way inside.
After a few seconds, the burning subsides, and I exhale.
Seated as far as he can go, Mark begins to move, pulling back as Eric
pushes up from underneath. I've never felt so stuffed. So receptive. So full
to bursting. I let John use my mouth, too overwhelmed to do anything
besides kneel there and take it in all my holes, from every direction.
“Fuck, man,” Eric says. “I can feel you in there. It’s fucking crazy.”
Mark picks up the pace, prompting Eric to do the same. Of all the
moments for them to decide to get competitive. I moan and gag, my body
humming with pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. What I can
only describe as my inner furnace reaches a fever pitch, and I find myself
tensing, trembling, struggling to keep still.
I come. Hard. Harder than I knew I was capable of coming.
“Shit, that’s beautiful,” John says. “Candace, fuck, I’m coming, too...
Fuck!”
Hot, salty cum spurts from the head of his dick onto my tongue. There’s
so much, I almost choke on it. I wait until he's empty, then let him slip from
my mouth.
“You'd better swallow that,” my dad says.
I look him in the eyes as I gulp down his buddy's cum.
“Did she swallow?” Mark asks from behind me.
“Oh yeah, she did,” Eric says with a smile.
“Shit, that's hot.” Mark slams into me, spanking me with his pelvis as
his cock delves deeper into my ass. He’s relentless. I have to lie down on
top of Eric to stop myself from being bounced right off his cock.
 “Goddamn.” Eric’s fingers dig into my hips, but I hardly notice the
sting. “You’re so tight, Candace. So tight—”
“Don't come in her, E,” my dad says.
“Aw, really?”
“You heard him,” Mark says.
“Shit.” Eric pummels my pussy a few more times, then pulls out. “Lift
her up, Mark.”
Mark grasps my arms and hauls me into an upright position, his dick
still inside me. Eric jacks his cock a few times, then groans as hot, white
cum shoots out all over my stomach and breasts. I nearly come again
myself just from watching his face contort, his head falling back.
A few seconds later, I’m dropped onto Eric’s torso, as Mark buries his
cock in my ass. I can feel it pulsing, his heat filling me, followed by the
slick, gooey sensation of it between my cheeks as he gently pulls out of me.
“Jesus Christ,” Mark mutters. “I can’t fucking believe we just did that.”
“Me neither,” Eric says.
John flashes me a grateful smile from his lawn chair. I’m too exhausted
to return it, damp with sweat and sticky with cum.
“All right,” my dad says. “Put her on her back. It’s Daddy’s turn.”
Eric, Mark, and John all gape at him.
“What?” I lift my head. He can’t be serious. Fucking my dad's friends is
one thing. Being railed by my own father while his friends watch is just too
much.
“Dude,” Mark says. “Are you sure—”
“You guys think I’m just gonna stand here and let you have all the
action? No fucking way. Candace, get up so Eric can get off the chair.”
I can’t move.
“Now,” he barks.
My limbs react on autopilot. Slinking to the bottom of the chaise, I wait
until Eric is out of the way and then lay back down. My dad stalks toward
me, his gaze dark. He unties the drawstring on his swim trunks, then pushes
them down his thighs. His huge cock springs out, pointing straight at me.
“You won’t play by my rules,” he says. “Then this is what you get.”
My dad grasps my ankles, spreading me wide as he kneels on the chaise
and then shoves his cock into my pussy. I moan. He spears me, filling me
up before I even know what hit me. His cock is a lot bigger than Eric's, and
slightly curved.
He sighs contentedly, a wide smile on his handsome face.
“Damn, sweetheart, you have no idea how hard it is to watch you prance
around the house in your underwear and not be able to do this to you.”
He starts to fuck me. My hands curl around the sides of the chaise as I
gaze up into my father’s eyes. His pubic bone hits my clit just right with
each thrust. My mind can’t quite reconcile the pleasure I feel with the man
who’s giving it to me. Still, I can’t stop rising to meet him, gritting my teeth
as the pressure in my pussy mounts.
Mark and Eric stand close by, watching my tits bounce and my dad
pounding into me. John is still by the table, but even he can’t take his eyes
off the spectacle. Knowing they’re watching me and my dad turns me on far
more than it should.
“You like Daddy's cock tearing up your pussy?” my dad rasps.
Yes, I love it. I can't fucking believe it, but I love it. Being fucked by my
dad's friends was exciting, but taking my daddy's big, hard cock in my
already tender pussy is even better. It’s so good, I can't hardly stand it. So
good, I think I'm going to come.
“Oh, God,” I moan. “Daddy, don't stop. Don't stop!”
He grinds his pelvis against me, pushing his cock as deep as it will go,
putting more and more pressure on my clit. My pussy clamps down and
then ripples around him. I'm coming. I'm coming so hard, I can feel it in my
asshole, in my lower back. In my entire fucking body.
 My daddy shouts, lifting my knees and forcing my thighs to meet my
torso. He puts all his force, into burying his cock deep inside me. I feel his
dick throb, pumping spurt after spurt of cum into my pussy, filling me up
with his tough love.
A moment later, he pulls out, and Eric and Mark both crane their necks
to see between my legs.
“What a delicious creampie,” Mark says.
“Seriously,” Eric says. “Impressive.”
My dad smiles and stretches, then walks straight over to the pool and
dives in. Mark and Eric exchange glances, then jump in after him. They
swim and splash each other like a bunch of rowdy kids who have just gotten
away with something major.
I can’t help laughing.
I feel a tap on my shoulder. John.
“Come on, kiddo,” he says. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the steps so I don’t have to attempt
the ladder on unsteady legs. As soon as I step into the water, Eric, Mark and
my dad swim over to me. The four of them take turns washing me, their
fingers gentle and exploratory, their smiles kind. As soon as they’re
finished, we all climb out and dry off with the towels John had draped over
one of the chairs.
“So,” I say, when we’re all settled around the table with beers and
empty plates that had recently held grilled meat and veggies. “The next time
you all have a guys’ night, can I come?”
My dad pats my knee. “Depends. Are you going to be a good girl and
do as I say, without giving me any trouble?”
“Hmm.” I pretend to consider his question. “That, too depends. Will my
future punishments be as fun and satisfying as this one?”
“Parade your goods out in public again and you'll find out.”
 “Well, in that case...” I stand and drop my towel. “How’s this for a
parade?”
I prance in a slow circle around the table, touching each man’s shoulder
as I go. The four of them exchange glances, their eyes going dark.
“Oh, sweetheart.” My dad grins. “Now you're really gonna get it.”
 Sheltered

My daughter , Casey, whimpers in the dark.

I tense. The double cot we share shakes slightly with her movements.
Not enough to wake me, but enough that once I am awake, I know exactly
what she’s doing.
She’s playing with herself. She’s rubbing her clit and squeezing her tits
less than a foot from where I lay pretending to be asleep.
The mental image sends a rush of blood straight to my cock.
It shouldn’t. But it’s been four years since I did anything besides sleep
next to a woman. Four years since I had a conversation with anyone besides
my little girl—not so little anymore, I remind myself.
The attack came on a Tuesday morning in late April. I was able to get
Casey to safety, but my wife wasn't so fortunate. She'd gone to visit her
sister in the next town over. By the time I had to accept that she wasn't
coming back, all my neighbor’s horses were dead, having choked on the
poison gas blowing over from the impact site.
Some might say Casey and I were lucky to have made it underground
before the next bomb hit. I say, fuck luck. We were prepared.
I’d been prepping for years, ignoring the odd looks from neighbors as I
constructed a fortress of concrete and stainless steel in my backyard. I made
sure it had all the necessities: light, clean water, heat and air conditioning,
enough food to last us six, possibly eight years if we dropped to half
rations.
If my neighbors had fared any better than their horses, I expect they’d
have come knocking on my reinforced-steel door a long time ago. Which is
why I also made sure to stock up on weapons and ammo, in case we’re ever
pushed to defend what’s ours. I intend to keep my daughter alive and safe,
no matter what. God help the man who comes sniffing around my
compound looking for trouble.
Casey was only fourteen when we closed the door to the outside world.
She’s eighteen now. I've done my best to teach her everything I know about
math and science alongside her survival training. We have a television and
some DVDs, but her favorite pastime is reading. She's read nearly every
damn book in the bunker, and I made sure the library was fully stocked.
When she does watch movies, she likes to linger over the kissing scenes. I
can’t say as I blame her. I hardly remember how it feels to kiss a woman, let
alone make love to one. Sometimes I think Casey’s better off never having
known the pleasures of being touched.
Still, whatever my little girl’s thinking about tonight has her going at it
hard.
She holds her breath for a moment and then exhales in short bursts. My
pulse throbs in my cock. Usually, I try to ignore my daughter’s nighttime
activities. Grit my teeth and wait for her to come, and then doze off. But
tonight, she’s on a roll. One orgasm isn't enough. It’s like she can’t stop.
I lay on my side, facing her in the blackness. Even with my eyes open, I
can’t see a thing. When she was younger, I’d leave a nightlight on in case
she had to use the toilet. But after a while, we both agreed it was a waste of
batteries. A dark, desperate part of me wants to switch a light on now so I
can watch her play with herself. I see her naked almost every day, and I
know I shouldn’t look, but it’s hard not to when she barely makes an effort
to cover herself.
 Against my will, I imagine what it would feel like to slide a finger
inside her, to feel her walls contract around me as she comes. The thought
makes my cock flex, pushing at the front of my boxers.
I mentally pinch myself. I can’t think of her like that. Not Casey, not my
little girl.
But she’s not a little girl anymore. Four years in a concrete box have
transformed her from a frightened child into a gorgeous, self-assured young
woman. With curves and desires that I pretend not to notice in the dark, on
our shared cot, mere inches away from my painfully aroused cock. I’d
planned on coming up with other sleeping arrangements once Casey's
nightmares had abated. Honestly, I think both of us appreciate having the
other one close. It brings me comfort to know that all I have to do is reach
across the cot to feel her heart beating.
I wouldn’t have to reach very far at all to find my hand between her
legs.
Fuck, this isn’t right. If I had jacked off this afternoon like I wanted to, I
wouldn’t be sporting a raging hard-on now. But it’s impossible to find time
to myself down here.
Casey whines softly, followed by a breathy “Oh, God, oh God, oh
God...”
I can’t take it anymore. As silently as humanly possible, I reach into my
boxers and wrap my hand around my dick. I stroke slowly, eyes drifting
shut as I listen to my daughter’s panting and the slippery sounds of her
fingers working their magic between her thighs. She shifts on the cot, her
foot brushing my calf. I should really stop. But it’s as if my hand has a mind
of its own. Casey whimpers softly, a little higher with each exhale. She’s
coming again. Goddamn, my baby girl is coming again.
I’m going to blow my load.
“Daddy?” she whispers.
I freeze. The sound of our breathing fills the dark.
 “Daddy, I know you're awake.”
I swallow hard. “What is it?”
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing. Go to sleep.”
She shifts again, making the cot dip between us. I feel her hand on my
bare chest. “Are you touching yourself?”
“What?” I ask, though I heard her. Loud and clear. “No. Go back to
sleep, Casey Bear.”
“But I wasn’t asleep.” She moves closer to me. I have to angle my cock
toward my stomach so it doesn’t touch her. “It’s okay Daddy. I was doing it,
too.”
“I noticed,” I snap, then kick myself. It’s not her fault I’m sex-starved. I
never want to make her feel bad about doing something natural. “I mean,
that’s fine, sweetheart. You do what you need to do. I’m going back to
sleep.”
She glides her hand down my chest, dangerously close to my hard-on.
“What if we did it together?”
My cock flexes at the suggestion. I swear, if it wasn’t trapped in my
boxers, it would be wagging like a dog’s tail. I roll onto my back. “We can't
do that, Casey Bear.”
“Why not?” She cozies up to me, draping her leg across my thigh.
Another inch, and she’ll be nudging my balls.
“Because it's not appropriate.”
“Who says?”
“I do.”
She traces shapes across my chest. Triangles, squares, little hearts.
“What if I say it is appropriate?”
“That's not how it works.”
“But Daddy, I can’t sleep.” She rocks against me, pushing her mound
against my hip in a slow, sensual rhythm.
 My daughter is humping me like a bitch in heat.
“I don't know how to describe it,” she says. “I just feel like I need
something, down there. My hand isn’t working like it usually does.”
My cock is harder than it’s ever been. I squeeze the base, hoping to
distract myself with pain, but all that does is force a drop of precum out to
wet my boxers. I can’t jack off with my daughter. Can I?
“I think the word you're searching for is horny,” I say.
“Horny? That's a funny word.” She giggles and walks her fingers down
my stomach. She gasps when she finds my dick. “Are you horny, Daddy?”
“Absolutely not,” I lie through clenched teeth.
“But your thing is hard.”
“It doesn’t matter. It just does that sometimes.”
“I know,” she says. “It happens a lot when you’re sleeping. Sometimes
you poke me with it.”
“I do?” I tense.
“Sure, almost every night, but I don’t mind. Sometimes I play with it.”
She glides a fingertip down my shaft. My cock jumps. I’m too distracted by
this new information to guide her hand away.
My pulse kicks up speed. “What do you mean you play with it?”
“Mostly I just pet it or kiss it. Sometimes I hold it between my legs.
That feels really good. It makes me horny.”
Another gush of precum travels up and out of my dick. My daughter
slips her hand into the fly on my boxers like she’s done it hundreds of
times, then wraps her hand around my cock. She strokes upwards, rounding
her palm over the head, and then eases it out into the open. I can’t believe
this is happening. It has to be a dream. The sick, twisted reveries of a
madman who hasn’t had sex in years.
Reaching overhead, I switch on the lantern Casey sometimes uses for
reading. Warm light bathes us both. My dick stands proudly, encircled by
my daughter’s hand. Casey’s shorts are crumpled around her ankle. She’s
pulled her T-shirt up to expose her gorgeous tits. Her nipples are hard, and
her mouth is open. Her legs are long and smooth.
I can’t resist running a hand up her thigh. “My God, you’re beautiful,
Casey Bear.”
She smiles and humps my hip, smearing wetness onto my skin. Her
moans sound like a cry for help. Instinctively, I turn to face her, hooking my
hand under her knee so I can spread her legs. My cock juts straight out at
her lush, gleaming pussy.
“You have been busy,” I say, sliding two fingers along her plump lips.
Christ, her pussy is drenched. I have no trouble locating her little clit, hard
and sensitive under my thumb. Casey hums as I stroke her, humping my
thumb as I work it against her tight little bud. “How many times have you
come tonight?”
“Three,” she says.
“And you’re still horny?” I tease her opening, then test her readiness by
attempting to slip two fingers inside her. After some initial resistance, they
glide in easily. She moans loudly, squeezing my cock in her fist.
“That’s it, Daddy. That’s what I need.”
I kiss her cheek and jaw, then press my lips to hers—my daughter’s first
kiss, I realize, given to her by her father, while his fingers delve inside her.
Her mouth opens and I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, easing my
tongue into her mouth. I time my tongue with my fingers, gliding in and out
of her pussy as I stroke her tongue.
After a moment, I break the kiss to let her catch her breath.
“Tell me what you need, Casey Bear.”
“I need something...inside. I need you inside me, Daddy. Like this, but
bigger.” She jacks my dick faster, angling it between her legs to rub her clit
like she’s been doing it forever. Like she and my cock have been seeing
each other behind my back for ages, and I’m just now learning about it.
 I rise onto my knees so that I’m directly above her, my fingers
pummeling her tight little hole as she uses my cock to rub herself. Casey’s
skin is hot. She’s practically on fire. I kiss a line down her neck, then dip
my face to lick her nipples.
A low moan rumbles up from my chest. I’ve always been a breast man,
and my daughter’s tits are some of the best I’ve ever seen. All those times I
had to pretend I wasn’t looking when she hopped out of the shower, the
hugs that made my dick hard for hours afterward, come flooding back into
my mind. Sucking on her tits is like the fulfillment of every dirty dream
I’ve ever concocted. My cock pulses in her hand, leaking precum all over
her already slippery clit.
“Daddy, please,” she begs. “I need you to fill me up.”
Fuck, it’s been so long since I’ve buried myself in a warm pussy. So
fucking long since I’ve made a woman come. If you’d told me eighteen
years ago that I’d be the one to pop my little girl’s cherry, I would’ve
chased your sick ass off my property with a shotgun. But things are
different now. The old rules no longer apply. My baby girl has grown up
into a beautiful woman. If I’m the last man alive, then it’s my job to be the
man she needs.
“Okay, Casey Bear. Daddy’s going to fill you up good.” I withdraw
from her pussy and grip the base of my cock, wedging it against her
opening. “Ready?”
Casey’s body tenses. She looks nervous, unsure. No doubt she’s read
about sex and watched a few love scenes in movies, but she’s never seen
porn. She knows my cock is supposed to go somewhere, probably where
my fingers were, but it’s one thing to read about sex and another thing to
know from experience.
I smooth her hair away from her face and kiss her. She immediately
opens her mouth to accept my tongue. Her pussy is tight, but slick. As I
slide my cock inside, she cries out, her arms folding around me. I should
stop and check in with her, but it feels too fucking good, so I settle for
going slow.
I don’t stop until I’m seated to the hilt.
“Oh, fuck, Casey Bear. My sweet baby girl.”
My daughter’s pussy flutters around me. When I feel her leg muscles
relax, I start to move. She whimpers, her nails digging into my back, but the
way her pelvis rises to greet mine tells me she’s starting to feel good. Soon,
she’s moaning and bucking her hips, crashing into mine with every thrust.
“Daddy,” she cries. “I’m so horny. God, I’m so horny I can’t stand it.”
I kiss her throat, gliding my tongue up to lick and suck her earlobe. She
scrapes her fingernails down my back, then squeezes my ass with both
hands. I fuck her like the future of the entire world depends on us. Like
we’re the last two people left on Earth—which we very well could be. Her
pussy tightens and her eyes clamp shut.
Her entire body tenses as she comes.
“Oh, God. Daddy—Oh!”
I can’t hold back, even as I realize what a terrible idea it is, I can’t stop
myself. I come inside her. Spurt after spurt of hot cum jets into my little
girl, filling her up. I pull out, and as I do, my cum flows out of her and onto
the cot.
“Shit,” I mutter. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Concern fills her eyes. “Shouldn’t have done what?”
“Come inside you.”
“Oh.” Relief softens her features. “I was afraid you regretted the whole
thing already.”
“No, Casey Bear.” I lower myself onto her so I can kiss her on the
mouth. “Not at all.”
We settle into a more comfortable position, with my legs threaded
through hers. I hold my daughter tightly, caressing her back, until she falls
asleep in my arms. Then, with one last look at her gorgeous face, I switch
off the light, and pray I don’t wake up to find it was all a dream.

Six Months Later.

“I saw a bird,” she calls down from the landing.

I glace up from the schematics on the table in front of me. “You saw
what?”
“A bird,” Casey says. “It just flew past.”
“Sweetheart, that’s impossible. There’s nothing living out there.”
“I know what I saw.” She slides the metal cover over the window and
then waddles down the metal stairs, a protective hand braced over her
swollen belly. As soon as she’s within reach, I pull her onto my lap and kiss
her neck. She sighs. “You don’t believe me.”
“I believe you know what you think you saw.” I smooth a hand over her
belly. “I wish you wouldn’t go upstairs without me. You could fall.”
“I may be pregnant, Daddy, but my legs work fine.”
“Are you sure?” I hook my fingers beneath the hem of her thin
nightgown and draw the fabric back to reveal her thighs. “I think we should
check them out, just in case.”
Casey giggles, resting her head on my shoulder as I smooth my hand
over her long legs.
Three loud bangs sound on the bunker door.
My heart slams in my chest. Casey and I share a tense glance.
“Get the shotgun,” I say.
She grabs the gun from its place by the cupboard and hands it to me. I
check to make sure it’s loaded—not that it has a reason not to be, since
we’ve never had to use it—then slowly make my way up the staircase.
 “Who is it?” Casey hisses from below.
I press a finger to my lips, though I doubt whoever’s out there can hear
us through six inches of reinforced steel. Rather than slide the window open
and reveal our presence, I uncover the spyhole and bring my eye to the lens.
“Oh my God.” My mind can’t process what my eyes are seeing. “It’s
your mother.”
“What?” Casey grips the banister. “But she’s dead.”
“She must’ve found shelter.” Another woman comes into view, then a
man holding a small boy on his shoulders. “She has a people with her.”
“Wait, Daddy—”
“Holy shit, sweetheart, you were right. The air must not be toxic
anymore.” I rifle through my pockets in search of my keys, eager to take
my first breath of fresh air in nearly five years. Casey reaches the landing
just as I’m about to unlock the door.
“Don’t open it,” she says.
“Why not?”
She glances down at her belly, then back at me. “Because if Mom’s
here, then she’s looking for us. For her husband, and her child. We aren’t
those people anymore, Daddy. Those people died a long time ago.”
I stare at Casey’s belly, at the life we made there. She’s right. Better her
mother remembers us fondly as the people we once were, so that Casey and
I can live in peace as what we’ve become. I glance through the spyhole one
last time at the mother of my child—soon-to-be the mother of my second
child.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yes, Daddy, I’m sure.”
I close the spyhole and take my daughter’s hand in mine.
“All right, Casey Bear. Let’s head back down.”
 Sweet Dreams

I n the dream , my father's tongue is in my mouth, and his hand is between

my legs. He tells me I’m his angel, pets my pussy though my underwear,
then pulls them down so he can stroke my clit. I don’t tell him to stop. In
fact, I beg him not to, because in the dream I want him to keep touching me.
I want him to make me come.
When I wake, his hands are wrapped around my upper arms.
“Charlotte,” he says, “It's okay honey. You were just having a bad
dream.”
My clit pulses. I can still taste him on my tongue. Slowly, my awareness
spreads from the throbbing between my legs to my labored breathing, my
sweat-dampened tank top. I breathe deeply. It was all a dream—a bad
dream. A very, very bad dream. Only somehow, it doesn’t feel bad at all.
“What time is it?” I murmur.
“Just after two,” he says, brushing a lock of auburn hair from my face.
“You were crying out for me in your sleep, like you did when you were
little.”
“Oh...” Heat fills my cheeks.
My dad smiles kindly, the corners of his eyes crinkling, just a little. I
jump as a flash of lightning outside the window paints shadows across his
bare chest and highlights the wisps of silver at his temples. He’s even more
handsome in the flesh.
I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands, trying to smudge away the
thoughts that shouldn’t be there. This isn't the first time I've dreamt about
my father touching me. It isn't even the first time I've woken up so hot and
bothered I could start a fire between my legs.
“My god, you're sweating.” He tests my forehead with the back of his
hand. “You're burning up.”
I wave his hands away. I don’t want him to touch me again; I might like
it too much. “I'm fine, Dad. You can stop worrying about me.”
“Sorry, no can do.” And just like that, he’s my dork of a dad again.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, making the hairs on the back of my
neck stand on end. I hate storms—have hated them ever since my mom left
me out in a parked car during a thunderstorm when I was little. Eyes trained
away from the window, I reach for the water bottle I always keep at my
bedside. My dad grabs it first and passes it to me.
“Thanks,” I say, then take a few gulps. The cold feels good sliding
down my throat.
My dad watches my throat as I swallow. “Want to talk about it?”
My throat clenches. I cough. “About what?”
“Your dream.”
Oh, sure. Why the hell not?
“Not really,” I say.
He nods, sits there quietly on the edge of my bed, then says, “You can
talk about her, you know. Sometimes I wonder if you avoid talking about
her because you’re worried it’ll upset me.”
He means my mother, whom I haven’t seen or heard from in almost six
years. Mostly, I avoid talking about her because it upsets me. She and my
father had me when they were both eighteen—way too young to be parents
—but while my dad had adapted quickly to his new role, my mother refused
to grow up. I was eight the first time she left us, then twelve when she took
off for good. Now, at eighteen, I couldn’t care less if she never comes back.
In fact, I hope she stays the hell away. Dad and I are better off without
her.
Lightning flashes, illuminating the room. I brace for the crack of
thunder to follow. My dad grasps my shoulders and I can’t help but lean
into him, pressing my brow to his warm chest.
“It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy’s here.”
I chuckle, then shiver as the rain picks up, harder and faster against the
metal roof.
He smooths my hair. “Want me to stay with you tonight?”
I do and I don’t. Though the memory of the dream has faded somewhat,
I can still feel the echoes of it in my body, the flutter of arousal in my belly,
the pressure of his fingers on my clit.
Another show of lightning, the crash-boom of thunder. The storm is
practically on top of us now. My dad doesn’t wait for me to respond before
he eases me back onto the mattress and slips beneath the covers. He aligns
himself with my body, spooning me like he used to when he’d get up in the
middle of the night to check on me, and find me crying in bed for my
mother. He slides one arm under my neck and wraps it around my
shoulders. With his other hand, he rubs my back.
“Do you have class tomorrow?” he asks.
“Not ’til the afternoon.”
“I can give you a ride if you’re too tired.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” I smile. “I love you.”
He kisses my shoulder, his big hand spreading warmth down my arm. “I
love you, too, sweetheart.”
I nestle against him, his form so much bigger and stronger than mine.
Hard in all the places I’m soft. I can feel the haze of sleep washing over me,
until another crackle of lightning makes me tense up and curl into myself.
 “Shh,” my father whispers. “It’s all right.” He holds me tighter,
wrapping his leg around mine to form a shell around me. His skin is hot
through his cotton pajama pants. “Let’s talk about your nightmare.”
My stomach knots. He’s trying to distract me from the storm, and
technically speaking, it works. Not the way he intended it to, I’m sure. But
it works.
“It wasn't a nightmare,” I mumble. “Not exactly.”
“Oh? What was it?”
I press my face to the pillow. “I don't want to say. It's embarrassing.”
“Come on, it can't be that bad.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Was I in it?”
“No,” I say, a little too forcefully. “I mean...not really.”
“Okay.” He laughs. “Now you have to tell me.”
I bite my lips together. Mortification and arousal prickle up my spine. I
shake my head, then tense as he lays a hand on my stomach.
“Do I have to tickle it out of you?” he asks, his tone playful. He flutters
his fingertips across my belly, searching for the hem of my tank top. I
shriek and wriggle and gasp as his fingers make contact with the soft flesh
of my abdomen.
My nipples tighten into points and my clit pulses. I picture his hand
moving downward—
“No!” I cry out, breathless. “Stop it, okay... I’ll tell you.”
He resumes rubbing my back. I swallow thickly, trying to think of a way
to play down the sex, to make it sound less perverted than it actually was.
“We were sitting on a couch, in a house like the one we used to live in with
Mom. Only, I was me, as I am now. Not me back then. We were watching
something on TV, I can’t remember what. But you were laughing. Then I
was laughing. Then... we laid down.”
“On the couch?”
“Yeah. But it wasn’t a couch anymore. It was a bed. Like my bed.”
My father’s hand stills. “Okay.”
 “Then...” I pause, not sure how to say it, and so I just say it. “You kissed
me.”
I hold my breath. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “Where
did I kiss you?”
“On the mouth.”
He doesn’t move a muscle. My stomach drops. I should’ve lied, I think.
Why couldn’t I just lie?
I couldn’t because I promised that I would never lie to him. My mom
used to lie to both of us all the time, so my father and I made a pact after
she left that we would never hide things from one another. But there have to
be exceptions, right? Some things that should never be spoken, not even in
the dark?
I clear my throat. “It’s no big deal. Anyway, I don’t have to keep going
if—”
“No, it’s fine,” he says, clearly trying not to sound disturbed. I want to
crawl into a hole and die. “Are you saying there’s more?”
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath. “You kissed me and moved on top of me.
Then you pulled my shirt down and started...touching me. I think you may
have taken your shirt off, too. After that, you put your hand over my panties
and just...rubbed me for a bit.”
He lay still as a statue behind me. I pause, not wanting to go on, but also
wanting to go on, because he hasn’t told me not to. And because part of me
wonders if it might be better to just put it out there rather than let it grow
inside me like a wildfire. Devouring everything in its path. I steel myself for
the next confession, then pause when I feel movement against my backside.
It's a slight movement, but it’s enough to make me gasp.
He’s getting hard.
“And then?” he whispers, so quiet I almost miss the question.
I swallow. “Then, you put your hand in my panties.”
 It’s only then that I notice the storm has passed. All that’s left is a light
rain plinking against the roof. The sound fills the silence like air sweeping
into a vacuum.
At some point, I realize my father’s cock is hard and wedged between
my ass cheeks. Excitement washes over me like a full-body flush. I can’t
stay still. I press against him, and his breath catches. He grips my hip to
steady me.
“Don’t,” he says, his voice gruff with warning.
I freeze, embarrassed. I try to feign ignorance. “Don’t what?”
My dad lifts the covers and rolls away from me. Cold air hits my back
like a slap. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he holds his face in his hands and
sighs heavily.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I say.
I start to cry.
Rolling onto my stomach, I let my tears soak into the pillow as I
tremble. My clit aches. This man is my father, my protector, my literal
shelter from the storm. He’s not supposed to get hard at the thought of
touching me. But he did.
And I liked it.
I really, really liked it.
I don’t know what to feel anymore. I’m disgusted with myself, yet
somehow, I’m still turned on. It’s wrong. Everything about this situation is
wrong. So why does him pulling away feel like the opposite of right?
A warm hand rests between my shoulder blades.
“Sweetheart?”
I sniffle and angle my face just enough so that I can see him. My dad’s
gaze is pained, twisted with guilt and concern. I don’t like that look. He
hasn’t done anything to deserve that look. This is all my fault. “I shouldn’t
have said anything.”
 He shushes me softly. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” I close my eyes. “I wish you hadn’t woken me up.”
He squeezes the back of my neck. “I’m sorry. That must've been so
fucking surreal—”
“No—I mean, yes, it was. But I wish I could've...finished the dream.”
My dad says nothing for a while, and then asks, “Were you really
enjoying it?”
I roll onto my side away from him, ashamed.
The rain has stopped. I listen to the sound of my father’s breathing—the
only sound in the room—slow and steady at first, then quicker, shallower.
The bed dips and he’s behind me again.
“Remind me,” he says. “In your dream, where was my hand?”
My eyes flick open as he flattens his hand on my belly. I gasp. “Um...”
Slowly, he inches down, until he reaches the gap between my shirt and
my underwear.
“Was it here?”
“Lower,” I whisper.
He runs his fingertip along the waistband of my panties. I want him to
move them lower. He’s not as hard as he was a few minutes ago, but he’s
well on his way. I grind myself against him, and his cock pulses, straining at
his pajama pants in a way that can’t possibly be comfortable. He teases his
hand into my underwear. “Here?”
I nod and lift my leg, hooking it behind my dad’s knee as he wedges his
knee between my legs. I’m so open, so exposed. When he inches his hand
down to stroke my lips, my clit is the first thing he touches.
“My god, Charlotte.” He circles the tender nub, hard like a pebble
beneath his fingers. “You really want me to do this?”
“Yes.” I rock my hips as he strokes me, pushing back against cock, then
forward toward his fingers. Back and forth. A delirious pleasure dance that
has me keening for more.
 “Hold on, baby girl.” My dad grabs hold of my waist and flips us so that
I’m lying on top of him, but facing away. He smooths both hands over my
breasts, then draws my tank top up to my chest so he can reach my nipples.
“Oh god,” I moan. “That feels so good.” I buck my hips, desperate for
any sort of contact against my clitoris. He strums my nipples, pinches them,
all the while kissing and biting at my neck and shoulder.
“Your tits are fucking perfect,” he says, jiggling them. “I knew they
were big but damn, they’re perky, too.”
“You say that like you’ve been checking them out for a while.”
He laughs quietly. “Maybe a little while.”
The crotch of my panties is practically soaked through. I wouldn’t be
surprised if I’d already left a damp spot on his pajamas. I can still feel my
father’s cock against my ass, hard and long and thick between my cheeks.
He glides a hand down my belly to massage my pussy through my panties,
just like in my dream.
“Please, Daddy,” I beg. “Please touch me.”
He pauses, as though he’s not sure how to feel about me calling him
Daddy in this context. I can almost pinpoint the moment he decides he likes
it from the way his heartbeat quickens against my back. Instead of reaching
into my panties, he slides them off, then spreads my legs.
When his hand returns, there’s no hesitation.
“That’s it, angel,” he says, rubbing my clit and strumming my nipple
with renewed fervor. It’s how I like to touch myself, but the fact that he’s
the one doing it makes the whole thing hotter. I can only imagine how
insane this would look from the outside, me with my legs splayed and my
tits out, my own father pleasuring me.
“Oh, god. Daddy… Daddy please…”
I can feel my orgasm building like a storm inside me. Hands grasping at
the sheets, I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth and hold on for dear
life. My father seems to get the implication, spreading my legs wider with
his knees and using his whole hand to stroke me. I come like thunder, a
crack and rumble that rolls and rolls and rolls between my hips.
“That’s my gorgeous girl,” he rasps. “Come hard for me.”
My whole body throbs. I twitch and sigh as the tension rips through my
muscles and then subsides.
I lie panting and spent on top of my father.
The man who helped make me is now the man who just made me come.
He eases me onto the mattress, then pulls me into his arms. I tuck my
face into the angle of his neck and breathe deep the comforting scent of his
skin. His cock is still hard and pushing at my belly, but he doesn’t move to
free it. In fact, he doesn’t move at all.
“What's wrong?” I ask.
He takes a long time to respond. “I’m still waiting for you to come to
your senses and tell me to get the fuck away from you.”
The trepidation in his voice makes my chest tighten. He doesn't want
this, us, together, to become something I'll regret. I have to show him that I
want this as much as he does—probably more than he does. I kiss his neck,
then his chin, working my way up to his mouth. Our dream kisses pale in
comparison to kissing my dad in real life. The heat from his breath caresses
my face as he opens his mouth to me. Emboldened, I slip my tongue
between his lips, and slide my hand between us to grasp his cock.
Air hisses through his teeth. “Oh, Charlotte. Baby.”
“I want you, Daddy.”
He grips the waistband of his pajama pants. “I want you, too,
sweetheart. Christ, I’m so fucking hard for you.”
“Please—” I kiss him. “—let me feel it.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he pulls the waistband out and down,
releasing his cock. My mouth forms an O. He’s so big, so thick and tan.
I glance up at him, my eyes wide with the question my lips can’t bring
themselves to ask.
 “Go on,” he said. “You can touch it.”
Smiling, I wrap my fingers around him. The sound that pours from his
mouth makes my nipples harden. His skin is hot, the hardness beneath it
unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Not hard like stone, but not supple
either. I give him a few test strokes. My dad weaves his fingers through the
hair at the back of my head. I brush my thumb across the tip and he gasps. I
giggle.
“What’s so funny?” His mouth tips into a half smile.
“You.”
He pulls my hair gently, angling my face back so he can kiss me full on
the mouth. “What’s funny about me?”
I shrug one shoulder. He eyes me carefully, tilts his head.
“Have you ever done this before?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say, slightly indignant. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
I bite my lips together. “Like once or twice.”
“You’ve had sex twice?”
“No.” I glance down at his chest, embarrassed. “Just my hand.”
He tips my chin up, forcing me to look at him. I can’t help but return his
smile.
“Let Daddy show you how.”
Wrapping his hand around mine, he shows me how to stroke him, where
to place pressure, how to tease the head. As I get better, I find myself
wanting to try new techniques, new grips and rhythms. When a bead of
clear fluid rises to the tip of his cock, I can’t help myself.
I lick it off.
“Shit.” His hand tightens in my hair. “Do that again, would you,
sweetheart?”
“Okay.” I make my way down the bed and position myself at eye level
with his cock. Carefully, I stand it up straight and draw my tongue across
the salty head.
My father growls. “Lick the shaft. Lick whole shaft for me, baby.”
I glide my tongue from the base of his cock to the very top and am
rewarded with another drop of precum and a deep, throaty grunt. Without
prompting, I take the head of his cock into my mouth and start to suck.
“Oh, Charlotte,” he mutters. “That’s it, baby. Keep doing that.”
I bob my head, taking him in as far as I can until I gag. His hand still in
my hair, he doesn’t force me down, but he doesn’t pull me off either. I
concentrate on maintaining good suction and a steady rhythm.
“Wrap your hand around the shaft,” he says. “Like that, yeah. Now
move your hand along with your mouth... That’s perfect. Fuck, angel,
you’re a natural cocksucker.”
Pride swells in my chest. I keep stroking and sucking, trying to take
more of his cock into my mouth with each pass. I love the way he tastes and
the natural, male scent of him. Gently, I cradle his balls with my free hand.
The shaft pulses in my fist as I whirl my tongue around the head and then
take him deep.
“I’m gonna come,” he says. “If you don’t want me to come in your
mouth, just switch to your hand.”
As soon as he says it, I know I want him to come in my mouth. I start
sucking as if my life depends on it, like the past, the present and the future
are all hinging on my ability to make my father paint the back of my throat.
He groans, his hips lifting. I thought I was ready for it, but when the first
spurt of hot, salty cum hits my tongue, I gag. My eyes water. I hold my
breath and wait for him to finish pulsing, then let his cock slide out. I hold
his cum in my mouth, a little grossed out, but mostly bewildered.
He touches his thumb to my bottom lip. “You can spit it out if you
want.”
I take his offer to spit as a challenge. Ever the overachiever, I tip my
head back and swallow. His cum slides down my throat easily, leaving a
slight aftertaste. I can tell he’s pleased by the way his gaze darkens.
“Charlotte. That was amazing. You’re amazing.” He pulls me from my
spot at the bottom of the bed into his arms and kisses my forehead, my
cheeks, my neck. He kisses my mouth, which surprises me since I’ve only
just swallowed his cum. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
I can, and I want to do more. I strip out of my tank top, wrap my leg
around his hips, and start kissing his neck. My father’s hands find my
breasts and begin kneading them. I nudge his pajama pants further down his
legs with my foot, and he takes them off. Now we’re both naked, tangled in
each other.
“Daddy,” I say breathlessly, as he licks my nipple. “I want you to...”
“What do you want me to do, sweetie?” He pushes my breasts together
so he can suck both nipples at once. My clit throbs. It feels so fucking good.
“Tell me.”
My mind is a jumble of needs and wants and desperate must-haves. I
wet my lips, running my fingers through his blond hair, threaded with
silver. “I want you to be the one to do it.”
“To do what?” The words come out muffled, spoken with my nipple in
his mouth.
“I want you to take my virginity.”
He pauses for the briefest of seconds, then kisses my breasts and looks
at me. “You’re sure?”
“I am.” I trace the lines of his face with my fingertip. It’s a handsome
face, a familiar face, one I’ve known my entire life, yet it’s almost as
though I’m seeing it—seeing him—for the first time. My dad kisses me
deeply, stroking my tongue with his own as he moves to lie on top of me.
He reaches between my legs, his fingers finding my opening.
“You’re still so fucking wet,” he says, working a long, slick finger into
my pussy.
 I’ve finger-fucked myself before, but his hands are bigger. I hold onto
his shoulders and try and relax my muscles. He pulls out, adds a second
finger, and strokes my clit with his thumb.
I rock my hips to meet his gentle thrusts. “Daddy, it feels so good.”
“It doesn’t hurt?”
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
My dad withdraws from my body, brings his fingers to his mouth. He
sucks them clean. “You’re delicious, angel.”
I lace my fingers into his hair and guide his lips to mine for a taste. I am
delicious. The two of us, together, are delicious. He’s still kissing me when
I feel the head of his cock, rock-hard again, against my folds.
“This might hurt a little,” he says.
“Why, because your dick is so big?” I can tell he likes the sound of that
by the dimples in his cheeks.
“Just keep breathing, baby girl.” He rubs my clit with the tip of his cock
and then prods my opening. He stops. “Shit. I should go get a condom.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m on the pill.”
“But you don’t always take it. I’ve seen the packet in your bathroom.”
“I don’t care.” I reach between us to stroke his shaft, so thick and veiny.
“I want to feel you inside me. Just you.”
He looks at my hand, wrapped around him, urging him on. “Fuck,
angel, I want to. I really fucking want to, but I don’t know...”
I tilt my head and don my very best puppy-dog eyes, the ones that have
never failed to earn me an extra scoop of ice cream or another hour of
screen time before bed. “Pretty please, Daddy.”
My father smiles wickedly. “How could I say no to that?”
I bite my lip and giggle, which quickly becomes a whimper as he drives
his cock forward. Not too fast but not too slow either. My insides feel as if
they’re being rearranged, stretched and pushed around to accommodate
him. It hurts. He withdraws partway and then drives back in, bottoming out.
I swear I can feel his cock behind my belly button.
“Jesus fuck, you’re so tight.” The veins and muscles in his arms bulge
as he holds himself above me. “Are you okay?”
“It hurts a little.”
“Give it a second. You just need to get used to it.” He drops down onto
his elbows so he can kiss me. I’m so distracted by his tongue in my mouth
that I barely notice when he starts to move in and out of my pussy.
By the time I realize he’s fucking me—like, actually fucking me—I
can’t believe how good it feels. The pain is barely an echo. But oh, the
pleasure. The motherfucking pleasure. I brace my feet on the bed so I can
buck my hips in time with my dad’s thrusts. He kisses my neck and plays
with my nipple.
“You like that, angel?” he rasps. “You like having your dad’s cock
inside you?”
“Yeah. I love it, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Christ, how’d I get so fucking lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.”
I fold my arms around his neck. My father grinds his pelvis against
mine on a deep inward thrust, putting pressure on my clit and making me
moan. My heart beats like thunder in my chest, as pleasure zaps along my
spine like chain-lightning. I had no idea sex could feel this good. My dad
made sure it would feel this good, and now I don’t see how it could ever
feel this good with anyone else.
He pulls out and kneels in front of me, stroking his shiny cock. “Want to
mix it up?”
I nod my head eagerly. I’m willing to try anything with him.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
I move into position, glancing back to watch him kneel behind me. I
can’t get enough of the look on his face as he squeezes my ass cheeks and
spreads my knees wider is. He pets my pussy, stroking the sensitive lips. I
watch him from between my legs. He fingers my clit, and my legs tremble.
I’m going to come again if he keeps this up. I think he knows it, because he
doesn’t stop fingering me, even as he guides his cock to my pussy.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says.
I’m not sure what he means. Then he plunges inside me and I cry out.
“Oh my god.” I drop onto my elbows. “How are you even in that deep?”
“It’s the position,” he says, caressing my back. “Shit, angel, your pussy
is amazing. I won’t last long like this.”
“That’s okay, Daddy. I want you to come in me.”
The sound he makes is pure lust.
My father’s cock drives into me, hard and fast, his pelvis hitting my ass
with each thrust. I feel my clit pulse against his fingers. I beg him not to
stop, though it comes out sounding like a mishmash of whimpers and
consonants. Still, he gets it, and soon I’m moaning again, rolling my hips
again, my muscles clenching his cock in the most intense orgasm I didn’t
know I was capable of having, because before now, I’ve never come with
anything thicker than a few fingers inside me.
“Angel baby.” He breathes the word. “I love you so fucking much.”
I’m too delirious to speak. His hands grip my waist, then glide up to
squeeze my shoulders so he can rail me. I love it, every inch of it. I even
love the pain. It’s all a part of this strange, fucked-up choice we’ve made.
The choice to become more than a father and a daughter, more than a
family.
He grunts and tenses. He pounds into me, once, twice, five times by the
end of it, holding my hips in place as he comes. I feel his cock pulsing, and
I swear I can feel his cum filling me.
We stay like this, breathing loudly in the dark, until his cock softens. He
rests his forehead on my back and slips out of my pussy. I reach between
my legs to catch the stream of cum that follows. It’s hot and messy. It’s
everything I wanted.
My dad grabs a handful of tissues from my bedside table and wipes me
gently, like a baby. He cleans the wet spot on the sheet as best he can. I shift
onto my back and watch him, not sure of what to say and hoping he’ll be
the first to speak. He clears his throat.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” His gaze darts to my face and then
away again. He’s nervous. I don’t want him to be nervous. I want to make
him happy.
I hold out my hand to him. “Really good, Daddy.”
My dad smiles, relieved, then takes my hand and lets me pull him into
bed beside me. I kiss him. I kiss him until my lips are tender, and then I
keep kissing him. He draws the covers over us and settles in like before,
with my back to his front. Only, everything is different now.
We’re not the people we once were.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper into the dark.
“For what, angel?”
I kiss the back of his hand. “For staying with me, tonight and always. I
know it was hard after Mom left. You could’ve left me with Gram and
Gramps, but you didn’t. You stayed, even when it wasn’t easy or fun.”
He hugs me tightly. “I’m your dad, Charlotte. My place is here with
you. I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.” His hand glides over my
breasts and down my stomach. He cups my pussy, tender and swollen, in
his palm. “I have so much more love to give you.”
 Baring It All

“O uch ...”
I glance up from the spreadsheet on my laptop and cock my head,
listening.
“Babe?” I call out, my voice echoing through the supposedly empty
house. I don’t hear anything. Smoothing a hand over my stubbled jaw—in
desperate need of a shave—I lean back in my office chair and then rub my
eyes.
“Shit!”
That, I definitely heard.
I step out of my office and into the foyer, then stop when I notice a light
coming from the master bedroom upstairs. A light I did not leave on. My
wife’s away for the weekend on a yoga retreat, and my daughter Brielle,
back from college, is spending the night at a friend’s.
There shouldn’t be anyone else in the house.
Careful not to make any noise, I reach inside the hall closet and grab the
baseball bat I keep there, just in case. I creep up the stairs on bare feet and
peek into the master bedroom. Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as I can
tell. No jewelry missing from my wife’s vanity, no drawers have been rifled
through.
 Then, I see it. Light shining from beneath the door to the ensuite
bathroom.
My pulse jackknifes. What the fuck would a burglar want from there?
Bat raised, I make my way over to the door and grip the handle.
I barge inside with a roar.
My daughter screams.
The first thing I see is blood. Deep red drops on the white porcelain.
Next, I see where they’re coming from: somewhere in the vicinity of
Brielle’s inner thigh. Lastly, I notice she’s not wearing any underwear.
My cock notices, too.
“Brielle?” I lower the goddamn bat and fight like hell to reign in my
pulse. “When the hell did you get home?”
“A while ago.” Her nose is red and her cheeks are wet. She’s been
crying.
“Shit,” I mutter, grabbing a hand towel off the rack. “Here, take this.
You’re bleeding. What the fuck are you doing in here?”
“Nothing.” She wipes the blood from her thigh and then holds the towel
against the cut. I can see she’s been trying to shave—using my goddamn
razor—without using shaving cream or water.
I prop the bat against the far wall. “Doesn’t look like nothing. Why
didn’t you announce yourself when you came home?”
She shrugs. The bra she’s wearing is barely opaque enough to cover her
nipples. I avert my gaze, but it’s hard not to look when they’re practically
staring me down. “Your mom said you were staying at Sarah’s tonight.”
“I was.” Brielle sniffles. “Until the guys showed up.”
“What guys?” My already rampant pulse kicks into high gear. I see red.
“Brielle, answer me.”
“Just a few of Sarah’s friends from school. Her parents are gone for the
weekend, so she invited them to hang out.”
“Did you know they were gonna be there?”
 She shakes her head no. “We had some drinks. Just beers, nothing
serious.”
“Any drinking is serious when you’re only nineteen years old.” I sigh
heavily. “So, you were drinking with a bunch of guys.”
“Just a few guys. One guy in particular. We were talking on the porch,
and we started...making out. He said...”
I squint. “He said what?”
Her cheeks glow hot pink as she busies herself with adjusting the towel,
a stalling tactic if I ever saw one. “He said he wanted to go down on me.”
“A guy you just met asked if he could go down on you.” I inhale deeply
and plaster on a neutral expression, not wanting to make her feel defensive,
given the sensitive subject matter. “Well, did you let him?”
“Sort of.”
“What do you mean, sort of?” I immediately take stock of the sadness in
her eyes and the tears on her face, the quiver in her lower lip. If this fucker
hurt my little girl, he’s gonna have more than a few broken bones to worry
about by the time I’m done with him. “Sweetheart, did this guy force
himself on you?”
“No. Nothing like that.” She wipes her eyes. “God, this is so
embarrassing.”
“I don’t give a fuck if it’s embarrassing. You’re gonna tell me what
happened. Or, at the very least, you’re gonna tell me what it has to do with
my razor.”
Brielle sniffles. “When I said he could go down on me, he pulled my
panties off and... He started laughing. He said my bush looked more like a
forest, and that he’d already flossed his teeth this morning. I didn’t want
him to see me cry, so I left. I ran all the way home.”
I know where her friend, Sarah, lives. I used to drop Brielle off at that
house on weekends for birthday parties and study groups. Four miles. That
fucker made my little girl feel so bad about herself that she ran four miles in
the dark all the way home.
“You should’ve called me,” I say. “I would’ve come and got you.”
“I didn’t want you to know I’d been drinking.”
“Brielle, it doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing. I will
always come and get you.”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes well with tears.
I scrub a hand over my face and try to temper my rage. As poor as her
decisions have been tonight, she doesn’t need me yelling at her right now.
“So, you’re shaving because you think your pubic hair is ugly?”
“Isn’t it?”
The hurt in her voice is like a punch to the gut. I move closer to the tub
so I can cup her chin in my hands. “No, sweetheart, you’re beautiful.
There’s nothing wrong with you. Don’t believe anyone who tells you
otherwise.”
Brielle wipes her eyes. “Sarah’s never made a big deal of how it looks.”
“Why would she...” The realization hits my brain like a shot. Brielle and
Sarah have been best friends for over a decade, plenty of time for curiosity
to get the better of them. I hadn’t taken my baby girl for a bisexual, but it’s
not exactly the sort of thing she’d mention over family dinner. “You and
Sarah hooked up?”
“A couple of times.”
Try as I might, I can’t get the image of Sarah’s face buried in Brielle’s
pussy out of my head. The fact that she’s naked from the waist down right
now doesn’t help matters.
“Sarah hooks up with lots of guys.” She runs the towel under the
bathtub faucet to wash out the blood, which appears to have stopped
running down her leg. “She says they like it better when you shave, and that
it makes you feel more sensitive.”
“I guess the latter part of that is true.”
 She looks at me. “How do you know?”
“Your mom and I shave each other sometimes.”
“You do?” Shock colors her cheeks. “I mean, she lets you shave
her...down there?”
“Not recently, but yeah. It’s something we’ve done.” I wouldn’t exactly
call myself a landscaper, but I can prune a shrub. “You should ask your
mom how to do it when she gets back.”
“But she’s not coming back ’til Sunday, right?” Brielle puts on a face I
know all too well. She’s about to ask me for something. “Maybe you could
show me how to do it. Since you know how.”
All the blood in my brain quickly relocates to my second head. “You
want me to shave you?”
She nods. “Please, Daddy?”
Oh, fuck. My dick goes from chubby to hard in a matter of seconds. My
baby girl is asking me to get up-close and personal with her pussy. I should
tell her no fucking way. I should slam the door and walk out—
I should not take the razor she’s offering and say, “All right, sweetheart.
Watch and learn.”
I pull up the stopper and run a few inches of warm water into the tub.
While that’s filling, I grab a can of shaving cream and a fresh razor. I sit on
the rim of the tub with my feet in the water and motion for her to stand
close to me.
“Spread your legs a little wider,” I tell her. The sight of her pussy
opening in front of my face makes my cock throb. I give her a few test
splashes to wet the short brown hair between her legs, then slowly lift a
palmful of water to dampen her folds. Brielle gasps and bites her lip, but
doesn’t recoil.
I just touched her pussy. Holy fucking shit, I just fondled my baby girl.
Careful not to make it obvious how much I’m enjoying this, I squirt
some shaving cream into my hand and start spreading it over her skin. Her
breath quickens. I catch a glimpse of her sweet, round tits as they rise and
fall. Pressing my thumb to the skin above her bush, I pull the area taut and
begin shaving with the grain. The fine hair glides away easily.
“Never shave dry,” I say, more to distract myself than to educate her.
“Use warm water, and always make sure the skin is good and damp before
you start.”
My dick flexes as I gently pinch one of her lips to pull the skin taut.
Brielle doesn’t say a word, but her eyes are locked on what my hands are
doing. Halfway through the job, I pause to add some more shaving cream.
“You doing okay?” I ask.
She nods.
I tell her to put her right foot down and lift her left so I can get the other
side. She braces herself with a hand on my shoulder as she shifts her feet.
Her tits are so close, they’re practically touching my head. I press my lips
together in what I hope looks like concentration but is really just an effort to
stop myself from salivating over her nipples.
As I finish up the other side, I have her tilt her pelvis forward so I can
reach the hair growing behind her pussy. The angle splays her like an
offering. I know it’s wrong as hell, but I can’t help myself. Using my thumb
and forefinger, I spread her lips wider so I can see everything, her little clit
and all the holes and the wetness I’m sure is water but my cock is
convinced must be a sign of arousal.
“Am I smooth yet, Daddy?”
“Almost.” I finish the job, then clean the razor in the tub.
Jesus, her pussy is so fucking pink. I dip my hand in the warm water
and splash it onto her lips, then use my fingers to swipe away the leftover
shaving cream. She’s smooth as silk and naked as the day she was born. I
splash and rub her a couple more times—more times than necessary, if I’m
being honest.
I still can’t fucking believe she’s letting me do this.
 “All done, sweetheart.” I bid her gorgeous cunt a silent goodbye, then
guide her own hand between her legs. “Here. Feel for yourself.”
Brielle runs her fingers up and down over the smooth, pink skin. She
whimpers, and the sound goes straight to my dick.
“It's so sensitive.” Her eyelashes flutter. She wets her mouth and then
lets it hang open.
Jesus Christ, my baby girl is turned-on, and I can't take my eyes off her.
I hope to God she doesn’t notice my dick fighting against my zipper.
Standing up is out of the question, at least until I’ve had a chance to calm
down.
Scrubbing my face, I say, “I think I need a shave, too.”
Brielle smiles. “Can I do it?”
Why the hell not? “Sure.”
I take my shirt off so it won’t get wet, then sit patiently as she dribbles
water onto my face and applies a thin layer of shaving cream.
“Don’t forget to pull the skin,” I say.
“I know, Daddy.”
A fast learner, she shaves me like a pro. The fact that she’s shaving me
with the same razor I just used to shave her pussy does not escape me or my
cock. Lifting my chin, she glides the razor upward from my neck to my jaw.
Less than a foot from my face, her plump, pink pussy is begging to meet my
tongue.
Brielle runs her hand along my jaw. “Now you’re almost as smooth as
me.” She pets her pussy right in front of me, then blushes when she catches
me staring. “It feels so nice. I can’t stop touching it.”
It takes every drop of decency I have not to grab her ass and bury my
face in that juicy pink peach. I swallow hard. “It looks real nice, too,
sweetheart.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Brielle smiles. “I wish Sarah were here to see it. I
bet it would feel amazing to have someone—” She bites her lips together, as
if she's just remembered who she's talking too.
My cock throbs and my other head takes over. “To have someone
what?”
She won't make eye contact. “To have someone go down on me now
that it’s so sensitive.”
I ball my hands into fists to stop myself from acting on my filthy
desires. Brielle is my daughter. She's not asking me to eat her out. She's
thinking about her friend Sarah’s mouth. Sarah’s tongue. Speaking of
which...
“By the way, Brielle, you're grounded for the rest of the weekend,
effective immediately.”
“Daddy, you can’t ground me. I'm nineteen.”
“I can as long as you're living in my house. And since I don’t see you
renting your own apartment for the summer, I’d say you’re stuck.”
“But I’m supposed to go to the beach with Sarah and her sister
tomorrow.” She pouts. “I want to wear my new bikini.”
“You mean the one I said you’re absolutely never allowed to wear
outside the house?”
She grins. “Yes.”
“Well, too bad. You'll have to go some other time.”
Brielle strokes her pussy. “I guess I can think of something to do here at
home...”
I fight back a groan. How the fuck am I supposed to concentrate on
work knowing she's upstairs playing with her freshly shaven pussy all
weekend?
“Plus,” she says, “that means we get to hang out, just the two of us,
while Mom's gone.”
My dick likes the sound of that. So much so that it's starting to ache like
a bitch, trapped inside my jeans. Discretely, I wedge my hand in my pocket
and try to angle it down my pant leg.
 Not discretely enough, however.
Brielle’s eyes go wide. Well, what'd she expect? You can't wag your
pussy in a man's face and expect him not to react.
I clear my throat. “Well, I’d better get back to work.”
“Dad, wait. I'm not finished.”
I stroke my face. “Feels smooth enough to me.”
“I don't mean your face.” She looks at my jock, and I swear my dick is
gonna break off in my pants. She smiles seductively and picks up the can of
shaving cream. “It’s only fair, Daddy.”
Jesus motherfucking Christ, she wants to see my cock. There's no other
explanation. Considering the blue-balls-inducing state she’s put me in, I've
half a mind to show it to her. I'm not the type of guy to be led around by his
dick, but every man has his limits; looks like Brielle just found mine.
I stand up and reach for my belt buckle.
A glint of hesitation sparks in my daughter’s eyes. She didn't think I'd
say yes. Well, in that case, she's in for the shock of her fucking life, because
I'm done playing hide and seek.
It's time to put up or shut up, baby girl.
I step out of my jeans and stand in the water, my cock aimed straight at
her belly button. Brielle grabs a hand towel and wets it with water from the
tub, then uses it to dampen the hair around my cock. Wrapping her slim
fingers around my shaft, she lifts my dick to wet my balls. There’s no
stopping the ragged sigh that follows.
My gorgeous daughter is touching my cock. Not only that, but she’s
taking her time spreading shaving cream over the skin around it. Tongue
between her teeth, she glides the razor over the hair above and to the sides
of my shaft, cleaning the blade between each stroke. I hold my breath as she
raises my cock to start working on balls.
“Careful, baby girl.”
She smiles up at me. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I won’t cut you.”
 My dick and balls feel heavy by the time she’s done, as if they’re made
of granite. She skims her fingertips all around my groin, admiring her
handiwork. She even plays with my balls. Precum drips from the head of
my aching cock. If she doesn't actually stroke my dick soon, I'll have to do
it for her.
“Did I do a good job?” she asks.
“You did a great job, sweetheart.” Taking my cue from her, I tickle the
velvety mound above her slit, then glide my knuckles downward. Brielle
bites her lip. Wetness coats my fingers as I tease her open. Fuck, she's
horny. My baby girl is horny for her dad’s cock.
Gripping my shaft, I touch the head of my dick to her smooth pussy
lips.
She gasps. “Daddy!”
“Feels good, doesn't it?” I run the tip along her slit, wetting it with her
juices. She moans as I push against her swollen clit, stiff like a miniature
cock.
With my free hand, I brush her long hair off her shoulders and slide her
bra straps down. I want to see every fucking inch of this beautiful thing I
created. Her tits don't disappoint. Round and pert with bubblegum-pink
nipples I can't wait to suck and bite, assuming she'll let me.
Christ, at this point, I might not take no for an answer.
I squeeze her breasts and strum her nipples, still teasing her clit with my
cock.
“Oh, God, Daddy, we can't...” She rocks her hips, sliding onto my cock
and rising up on her toes. Reaching around to cup her perfect ass, I
encourage her to use my dick to pleasure herself. That she also happens to
be giving me a damn good pussy job in the process is a welcome bonus.
She rests her hands on my shoulders, letting me bear some of her weight
as she works her clit against me, oiling my cock with her juices. “Will you
lick my pussy, Daddy? I need to know what it feels like.”
 My mouth curves into a grin. With a pussy as luscious as hers, it would
be a crime not to. “Only if you say please.”
“Pretty please, Daddy. With whipped cream and a cherry on top.”
I help her to step out of the tub and then I sit back down on the edge,
encouraging her to rest her foot on my thigh. She stands in front me, spread
open and glistening. I trace the outline of her lips with the tip of my tongue,
teasing her. She gasps and shivers so bad she has to steady herself with a
hand on my nape. Slowly, I glide my whole tongue over her pussy from
bottom to top. Her lips are smooth as silk and sweet from her juices. Cream
and cherries. Fucking delicious.
Brielle whimpers. “I don't know if I can do this standing up. I’m so
sensitive.”
“Just lean on me, sweetheart.” I wrap my arm around her so I can hold
her steady and grope her perfect ass at the same time.
I nibble and suck on her lips, then focus my attention on her hard little
clit, flicking and fluttering my tongue until she’s moaning and swearing
under her breath. I suck on that sweet bud ’til her legs tremble, then switch
back to licking. I make my tongue stiff and blunt and keep my pace
consistent. That's how her mom likes it, and from the way she's humping
my face, I think it's safe to assume that's how she likes it, too.
Bolstered by her enthusiasm, I trace circles around her back entrance
with my finger, then push on the tight puckered hole.
“Oh, Daddy, don't go in there, that's too dirty.”
I hadn't been planning on it, but the thought of breaching her asshole
has my dick dripping precum all over the bathmat. And seeing how
embarrassed she is only makes me want to do it all the more. What we're
doing is dirty as fuck, but there's nothing dirty about Brielle. She's perfect,
and I'll kick the piss out of anyone who says otherwise.
I slide two fingers into her pussy from behind to wet them, then use
those same fingers to prod her butthole. I make sure not to let up on her clit
as I ease into her ass. Brielle's hands claw at my hair as she wriggles and
squirms. She calls out for God as I finger-fuck her tight little sphincter, my
tongue drawing figure eights on and around that juicy bud.
“Ohh, I'm gonna come,” she whines, like she's afraid to. “Daddy, I'm
gonna come, I'm gonna come...”
She shudders. I push my fingers inside her as deep as they'll go. Her
muscles grab me. I can feel her clit pulsing against my tongue as she comes,
and I don’t stop licking until her knees give out.
My fingers slip from her asshole as I help Brielle to sit on the bathmat.
Breathless, she rests her head on my thigh, inches from my throbbing,
twitching cock. Precum drips onto her shoulder. I smooth her hair away
from her face. The tip of her tongue glows pink between her pearly whites.
“Give me that gorgeous mouth,” I say.
She tilts her head back and licks her lips, then wraps them around my
cock. I hold onto her hair as I slowly fuck her face, a little bit deeper with
each thrust. My daughter’s mouth is smaller than her mother’s. She can
only take about half of me before she gags. After a few more thrusts, I slip
my cock out of her mouth and drop to the floor beside her.
“Lie down, baby girl.”
“Daddy, we can’t.” She’s lying down even as she says it. “What if Mom
finds out?”
“Mom doesn’t have to find out.” I kneel between her legs and drag her
ass up onto my thighs so her feet are behind me. “This will be our little
secret.”
Brielle covers her face with her hands. “But...you’re my dad. It isn’t
right.”
“Who says it’s not right?”
“I don’t know. People.”
“Fuck people. You and I are the only people whose opinions matter.” I
cup her breasts with both hands and play with her nipples. “How does this
feel, Brielle?
She sighs. “Really good.”
I grip my shaft and rub the head against her clit. “And this? How does
this feel?”
“Good. Fuck, it feels so good.”
“So, how can this be bad?”
She licks her lips. She’s practically vibrating with the effort it’s taking
her not to give in to what she wants. Finally, she succumbs. “Fuck it. I don’t
care what anyone says. Just fuck me, Daddy.”
I slide balls-deep into her pussy, her smooth parts and my smooth parts
coming together in slick, forbidden harmony. Brielle whimpers and moans
as I drive my cock in and out, my hands supporting her knees and spreading
her wide. She pinches her nipples, pressing her tits together. The sight
makes my dick throb.
“Play with yourself,” I growl. “Show Daddy how you’re gonna play
with your new shaved pussy.”
She slides one hand down her stomach to stroke her clit, and the extra
stimulation makes her pussy tighten around me. My balls slap her ass as I
pound into her, and I can feel the tension in them as I get closer to coming.
Brielle bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut. She’s gonna come again,
and I’m gonna be inside her when she does.
“Fuck,” she spits. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, Daddy. Don’t stop. Don’t
stop...”
I bury my cock inside her as she comes, her muscles squeezing and
releasing me in rapid succession. The feel of it combined with the sight of
my daughter’s perky tits and shaved pussy does me in. I’m ready to blow.
The first shot goes off inside her. Immediately, I pull out and shoot the
rest onto her pussy. Hot, white globs of cum splatter all over her bright pink
skin. Brielle shudders, then stares down between her thighs in shock.
“You came inside me,” she says.
 I sit back on my haunches, my heart punching at my sternum like it
can’t believe what I’ve just done to my sweet baby. “I did, yeah.”
She sits up on the bathmat. “I don’t have an IUD anymore. What if I get
pregnant?”
“Then you get pregnant.” I pull her into my arms and kiss her forehead.
“Don’t worry about that now. You know your mom and I will support you,
no matter what.”
“Not if she finds out it’s yours.”
“Shhh.” I rock her against my chest like I did when she was little. “It’ll
be all right. I promise. You’re still my little girl, Brielle. I’m always gonna
take care of you.”
I feel her muscle groups relax one by one until she’s a pile of sweetness
in my arms.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, baby girl?” I tip her chin up so I can kiss her lips.
“Am I still grounded?”
I chuckle. “Most definitely.”
She smiles. “That’s okay. I’m sure we can come up with fun things to
do here at home.”
 Active Duty

“H eather , sweetie , take this .” Mom hands me a bowl of potato salad.

“Now, where did I put the serving spoons?”
“They’re in your purse.” I cradle the heavy glass bowl and ponder how
long I should wait before excusing myself from today’s welcome-home
party with a stomach ache.
I’ve never liked parties; I tend to get swallowed up in the noise and
bustle of a crowd. It’s no wonder I haven’t dated much my entire first year
at college—I refuse to attend parties, mixers, anything besides class. Last
semester, I was practically counting down the seconds until I could return
home. But the real reason I’m dreading today’s family gathering is because
I’m going to have to face the completely inappropriate crush I’ve been
harboring for as long as I can remember.
Steeling myself for the inevitable embarrassment, I follow my mom and
stepdad across the street to my uncle’s house. His ex-wife, my Aunt Jane,
answers the door.
I haven’t been back inside this house in over a year—not since my uncle
was deployed. When my cousin, Dylan, sees me in the kitchen, he offers a
small wave.
“Jane says the buffet’s out back,” my mom says. “Help me bring this
stuff out and then you can go see your cousins.”
 I don’t have much in common with my cousins, but I nod anyway. The
backyard has been decked out with balloons and blue banners that read
Welcome Home, Rich.
Setting the potato salad down on the table, I glance around the yard. Our
entire extended family has turned out for Rich’s homecoming, and of course
they would. Everyone loves Uncle Rich—including me.
Uncle Rich and my cousin, Dylan, have lived in the house across from
ours for as long as I can remember. The two of them were regulars at our
kitchen table, and it seemed like a week couldn’t go by without Rich
coming over to help me finish a project my stepdad had started and then
abandoned when he realized he was in over his head.
Rich is more than just a great uncle. He’s a hero, a man you can count
on for everything from fixing your fence to rushing into a burning building
to rescue your dog, and all without expecting anything in return. He’s
reliable, much more reliable than my stepdad. If I fell off my bike or found
myself the target of neighborhood bullies, Uncle Rich was the one I ran to. I
guess that’s why he always felt like a surrogate dad to me. I knew I could
count on him to make everything better.
My cousin, Dylan, and I were close when we were kids, but we don’t
hang out much anymore. When Uncle Rich was deployed to Afghanistan
two years ago, Dylan went to stay with his mother. We lost touch over time.
I scan the crowd but see no signs of Uncle Rich. He must not be home
yet. I pour myself a cup of seltzer and park my butt in a lawn chair, making
small talk with the relatives who approach me. With each passing minute, I
find myself becoming more and more anxious.
“Heather, you look like you’re going to be sick,” my stepdad says,
taking a seat in the chair beside me.
“I’m not feeling so good.” I wipe the sweat from my forehead for
emphasis. “I’m going to go home and lie down.”
“I’ll let your mom know,” he says. “Don’t get lost!”
 Forcing a half-hearted chuckle, I get up and make a beeline for the
sliding-glass door. I stop in my tracks as the man I’ve been in love with
since I was small enough to fit on his shoulders steps out onto the deck.
“Surprise!” The crowd erupts, whooping and cheering.
Uncle Rich smiles, looking even more handsome than I can remember.
When his gaze locks on mine, his eyes go wide for the briefest of seconds,
and my heart clenches in my chest. He shakes hands with the family and
friends around him, thanking them for the warm welcome. They clap his
back and kiss his face and call him a hero.
Upon reaching his son, he pulls Dylan into a big hug and ruffles his hair.
I can’t make myself walk away, even as the uncle I disgraced myself in
front of two years ago moves toward me.
“Wow, Heather. Look at you.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond
before he pulls me into his arms.
The heat from his body takes my breath away. I press my hands to his
firm back and inhale his clean, masculine scent.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers so only I can hear. “I can’t
believe how much you’ve grown.”
My pulse flutters. I could never pinpoint exactly when my affection for
my uncle turned into something more. It wasn’t like flipping a switch. More
like watercolors bleeding across a page, a natural progression, impossible to
control. I used to fantasize about falling asleep in Rich’s lap like I did when
I was little. Only instead of petting my hair, he’d be stroking my thighs,
higher and higher, until he reached my panties. I would touch myself in bed
and pretend it was Uncle Rich touching me, teasing aside the elastic seam
of my panties, drawing tiny circles over my clit.
There were nights I ventured across the street under the guise of
spending time with my cousin, when really, I just wanted to see his dad. I
knew it was wrong, the attraction I felt toward my mom’s older brother. But
I lusted after Uncle Rich like a shiny new bicycle I desperately wanted but
couldn’t afford.
When I learned that Rich was going to be deployed, I was so panic-
stricken that I almost fainted right there in the kitchen. I couldn’t imagine
going over to his house and not finding him there. The thought that
something terrible might happen overseas, and the possibility that he
wouldn’t come back at all, sent me into a depression that stretched on for
weeks.
Fear and desire were pulling me in a hundred different directions. I had
to do something to show him how much he meant to me before he walked
out of my life, possibly forever.
The night before Uncle Rich was set to leave, I made sure Dylan was
upstairs in his room playing video games before I snuck over. I found Rich
hanging out in the kitchen, staring into a glass of bourbon. He looked so
sexy in his ripped jeans and T-shirt, his handsome face clean-shaven. I
wasn’t used to seeing him without a beard; it was a tad startling.
“Hi,” I said.
Rich looked up from his glass. “Hey, baby girl.”
He’s always called me baby girl, even as I grew into a teenager. I hated
when anyone else tried to say it, but from him, it felt natural. I was his baby
then; I still am.
“Dylan’s upstairs in his room,” he said.
“I know.” I took a step closer. “I came over to see you.”
“Really?” He took a sip of bourbon. I watched his throat shift as he
swallowed. Though nothing about this impromptu meeting in his kitchen
was different from any other night, the air in the room felt charged with
tension.
“Can I have a drink?” I asked, feeling both nervous and emboldened.
Legally, I was too young to drink, but Rich didn’t mind if Dylan and I
indulged at the house so long as we didn’t go crazy.
 His gaze dripped over me like honey, and I became aware of just how
clingy my dress was.
Rich’s mouth tipped into a half smile. “Sure, kiddo.”
He poured me a small drink of my own and handed it to me, his fingers
brushing mine. His stare followed the glass to my lips. The bourbon went
down like liquid fire, sending warm tingles through my nervous system. I
fought the urge to cough.
“Good?” he asked.
I met his darkened gaze. “Really good.”
Where boys my age were smooth and slender, Uncle Rich was big and
rugged, a wall of muscle chipped and honed by the hands of time. I’d seen
him without a shirt on plenty of times, and had noted the tattoos, and scars
from previous deployments. Rich’s body told stories I desperately wanted to
hear.
What better way to get it to start talking than to coax the words from his
mouth?
Rising onto my toes, I hooked my arms around his neck and kissed him.
His breath burned with the scent of bourbon, heady and intoxicating. The
kiss was everything I’d hoped it would be and so much more.
Until he pushed me away.
“Heather.” He gripped my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length. “What
are you doing?”
Mortification churned in my stomach.
“I don’t know,” I lied, tears pricking my eyes. “I just wanted you to
know how much I’m going to miss you...”
“I’m gonna miss you, too, baby. But this can’t happen.”
My head swam. “I’m sorry.”
He stroked my cheek. I bit my lips together, barely holding back the
sobs that threatened to wrack my body. He kissed my forehead. “You’ve
had a little too much to drink, that’s all. No harm done.”
 But harm had been done to my heart, not to mention my conscience.
I nodded, eager to blame my inappropriateness on the alcohol, though
I’d barely had a drop to drink.
Footsteps hammered on the living-room stairs—probably Dylan rushing
between missions to grab a Mountain Dew. I ran from the kitchen, racing
out the back door, praying my cousin wouldn’t see me fleeing into the
darkness.
That was the last time Uncle Rich and I were in the same room, until
today.
“How've you been?” he asks, pulling back to study my face. I can
hardly contain my excitement at having him so close.
“Fine,” I say, my voice cracking.
“Just fine?” My stepdad sidles up to us, as subtle as a fart in an elevator.
“Heather's being modest. She's a straight-A student, finished up her
freshman year with a 4.0.”
I cringe as he pats my head like I'm a prize-winning terrier.
Uncle Rich glares at my stepdad’s hand on my head, then shakes his
frown off, smiling kindly at me. “No surprise there. Heather was always a
smart kid.”
Disappointment curdles in the pit of my stomach like sour milk. Once
again, it’s crystal clear that that’s all he’ll ever see me as—a kid. Not an
equal, and certainly not a lover.
The thing is, a sick, twisted part of me wants Uncle Rich to see me as
both the little girl I was and the young woman I am now. I want him to play
tag with me, so long as he rips my clothes off when he tackles me to the
ground.
But the depressing truth is that he's never going to see me as either.
Because I'm no longer the innocent little girl who lives across the street, and
there’s no way he’s been pining for me the way I've been lusting after him
these past two years. I’m the weirdo who kissed her uncle.
 “I’m glad you’re home, Uncle Rich,” I say, stepping out of his reach.
“But if you’ll excuse me, I need to go lie down for a while.”
As soon as I’m through the house and out the front door, I run, just like
I did that awful night two years ago.
Safe inside my own house, I slam the front door behind me and take the
stairs two at a time to my bedroom. Throwing myself onto my bed, I bury
my face in the pillows. Tears stream from my eyes. I’d thought I was done
crying over Rich, but apparently my eyes were simply saving up for the big
finale.
Downstairs I hear the front door squeal open and thud shut. Heavy
footsteps sound on the steps, making their way slowly up to the second
floor—probably my stepdad slinking back home to take a dump.
My doorknob clicks.
“Hey,” says Rich.
My pulse skips. I roll onto my side to look at him.
“What are you doing here?” I’ve imagined Uncle Rich in my bedroom
more times than I can remember. I can’t believe he’s really here.
“You ran off pretty quick,” he says. “I wasn’t done talking to you.”
“I needed to get away for a minute.”
“Get away from what?”
You, I think but don’t say. I shift onto my back, causing my skirt to ride
up higher on my thighs. Uncle Rich’s gaze roams over my body and then
settles on my face.
“Mind if I hang out? I’m not used to being the center of attention these
days.”
“Won’t everyone miss you?”
He shrugs. “They’ve been missing me for two years. They can miss me
a little longer.” He sits down on the edge of my bed. “The person I’ve been
dying to see is right here in this room.”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Really?”
 “Of course.” He squeezes my calf, and my skin tingles beneath his
touch. “I thought about you every day, Heather.”
Warmth pools in my stomach and drips between my legs. I squeeze my
thighs together, hoping Rich won’t notice how much it’s turning me on just
having him in my bedroom. He scoots closer to me, stretching out along my
bed. I straighten my skirt.
He scans the surfaces of my room, his eyes lingering on the remnants
from my childhood: my old baby blanket, the tower of stuffed animals in
the corner, my Jonas Brothers poster.
“It feels like only a minute ago, you and Dylan were zooming around
the neighborhood on your five-speeds,” he says. “I swear, you spent so
much time at our house, I started to think of you as my own daughter. But
look at you now, all grown up.”
I fight to hold onto my smile, ashamed of how disappointed I am at his
insistence that I’m not a little girl anymore. I've been dreaming of this
moment for the past two years—the day when Uncle Rich would see me as
a woman. But now that it’s come, the moment feels hollow.
“I loved you like a father,” I tell him. My real father died the year I was
born, and my stepdad was a poor replacement. Not like Uncle Rich, who
made it his mission to love, cherish, and care for me like a father should,
even when he didn’t have to.
He tucks a lock of golden hair behind my ear. I lean into his touch like a
cat. He seems to sense my desperation, tipping my face to make me look at
him. “What’s on your mind, Heather?”
I nibble my bottom lip, searching for the right words that won’t make
me sound deranged.
“I don’t want to be all grown up,” I whisper. “I still want to be your
little girl.”
Rich drapes his arm around my shoulder and hugs me close. “Now that
I’m home, you can be whatever you want to be, sweetheart.”
 His lips brush my forehead. I’m so turned-on, I can’t stop myself from
crawling onto his lap. He’s so big that there’s barely a breath of space
between my pussy and his crotch. My heart pounds as he wraps his arms
around me and buries his fingers in my hair.
Our lips hover just out of reach as he strokes my face. Rich is my uncle,
my hero, and I’ll always be his little girl. But as his mouth claims mine in a
hard, demanding kiss, we become something more.
“I'm sorry I pushed you away two years ago,” he rasps between kisses,
“but I knew if I kissed you, there was no way I was going to be able to stop
myself from taking you there on the kitchen floor.”
“I would’ve let you.” My pussy touches down on something hard in
Rich’s lap. I press my clit against it. He groans. I gasp as I realize the big,
stiff thing in his pants must be his cock.
My uncle’s aroused and it’s because of me.
I moan into his kiss.
Rich slides his tongue into my mouth to taste me. I yield, letting him
ease me onto my back with his weight on top of me—not enough pressure
to crush my ribs, but enough to center me in the moment, to reassure me
that he isn’t going anywhere.
“You’re my niece, Heather,” he says, “and you were so young. Way too
young. But, fuck, I wanted you. It's criminal how long I've wanted you.”
His hand fists in my hair. “And now you're mine.”
“I've always been yours. I was just waiting for you to come and take
me.”
Our mouths collide. Uncle Rich thrusts between my legs, grinding
against my mound and making me whimper. It feels so good, but still my
pussy aches for direct contact. He pulls back, and I already miss the heft of
his body on top of mine. He cups my breasts through my dress, my nipples
going stiff against his palms.
 “I love my son,” he says, and I can already sense the but coming. “But
when I was up against it in the desert, not sure if I'd make it back alive or in
a casket, it was your face I couldn't stop picturing. I needed to get home to
my baby girl.”
My whole body flutters as if he’s turned my blood into butterflies.
Hooking his fingers into the straps on my dress, he works the top half
down, exposing me. I almost never wear a bra, and today is no exception.
Rich hums low in his throat as his eyes drink me in.
“Gorgeous,” he says, his voice breathy.
Before I can respond, his mouth closes over my left nipple. I gasp, my
hands automatically burying themselves in his hair. Heat and suction tease
my nipple until it's painfully stiff. As I cry out, Rich lets go, peppering the
sensitive tip with licks and kisses. He does the same to my right breast, eyes
closed, focusing intently on the nipple in front of him.
All the while, my clit throbs, dying to be touched.
“Please, Uncle Rich,” I whine pathetically. “I need you...”
I’m too embarrassed to ask him to put his mouth on my pussy.
A sly grin tilts Rich’s lips and I’m suddenly convinced he can read my
mind. He crawls down to kneel between my spread knees, resting both
hands on my inner thighs. The skirt portion of my dress is a wrinkled mess,
bunched above my panties, thanks to all our dry humping.
“You want me to touch you here?” he asks.
I nod. He slides his palms inward along my thighs, stopping just before
my panties.
“And here?” He brushes his thumb over my pussy lips.
I gasp.
“Yes.”
“And how about—” He presses his palm to my mound. “—here?”
“Oh yes…” I hump his hand. Just that bit of extra pressure is enough to
spur my arousal. My uncle rubs my pussy through my underwear, licking
his lips as his eyes take in my desperation. You’d think I’d never been
touched before.
Then again, I’ve never been touched by Rich.
He centers the pressure over my clit, and I twitch, thrusting at the air
toward his fingers.
“My God, baby, you are precious. Just look at that eager pussy.”
Rich leans down and kisses the wet spot on my panties, and that simple
gesture is, hands down, the hottest thing anyone has ever done to me. He
slips two fingers into the side of my underwear, and I moan at the feel of his
skin on mine. His knuckle nudges my clit. Once again, I’m humping him as
if my life depends on it.
He pulls my panties aside to look at my pussy, then groans.
“Fuck it,” he says. “I’m done teasing. I need to taste you.”
Rich tugs my panties off and then spreads my legs. I barely have time to
breathe before his mouth is on me, his tongue lapping at my clit like it’s
made of candy. He moans, clearly enjoying my body’s responses. I can’t
stop whimpering.
“That feels so good,” I rasp. “Better than I thought it would...”
He glances up from between my legs. “You and your high school
boyfriends never did this?”
I shake my head no. He cocks his head, confused.
“But you’ve fooled around before. I know you did. I watched you sneak
boys in through your window.”
Heat rises into my cheeks. I'd often wondered if Uncle Rich could see
me letting my boyfriend into my bedroom from across the street. I never
closed the curtains because I liked the idea of him watching us make out.
“We only used our hands,” I say.
“You’re telling me I'm the first man to taste you?”
I nod. His gaze darkens in a way that makes my pussy throb.
“And the first to fuck you?” he asks.
 “Yes...” That Rich sees this stepping stone along the path to my sexual
awakening as a privilege tickles me in all the right places. “I always wanted
you to be my first.”
He dives back down, sliding his tongue inside me and pressing his nose
to my clit. I try to keep my hips from bucking, but it feels so good I can’t
help it. He wraps his arms around my thighs and holds me still so he can
delve and taste without having to chase me.
My hands find my nipples as I lie back on the pillows and watch my
uncle work his magic on my pussy.
I can feel my orgasm bubbling just below the surface. Rich works a
long, thick finger in and out of me, never easing up on my clit. A moment
later, it’s two fingers. I wince as he tries for three.
“Breathe baby,” he says. “Just breathe and let me inside. I don’t want to
hurt you with my cock, so we’re gonna get you nice and ready.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Soon enough, three of Rich’s
meaty fingers are buried inside me, and I’m taking them like a champ.
“That’s a good girl.” He kisses and then sucks my clit, and my legs
won’t stop twitching. Pleasure surges through me.
I’m coming.
“Fuck,” I whine. “Oh, fuck me, Rich...fuck...”
My entire body shudders with my orgasm, drawn out by Rich’s
unrelenting tongue against my clit. He continues to lap at me until I’m
boneless, splayed out on the bed with all my focus centered on the sensitive
bud between my thighs.
“Jesus, look at all that cream,” he says hungrily, wiping his mouth with
the back of his hand.
I glance between my legs and gasp at the enormous wet spot I've made
on the blanket. I cover my face with my hands, mortified.
“No, baby, don't you dare be embarrassed.” He tows my hands away
from my cheeks. “I haven't been with a woman in two years. I'll be
surprised if I last longer than two minutes.”
He kisses my palms, one at a time.
“I love that you’re so turned-on,” he says. “It means you need this as
bad as I do.”
Rich moves up my body to kiss my lips. I taste myself on him and savor
the flavor of my own arousal. He’s right, I do need this as badly as he does.
Maybe more. Uncle Rich has been celibate for two years; I’ve been waiting
for him all my life.
“Arms up, baby girl,” he says. “I want to see every inch of you.”
I raise my arms so he can pull off my dress. Naked before this fully-
clothed man, I fold my hands in my lap, not sure what to do with them. I'm
not used to grown men looking at me so intently. Cupping his cock through
his jeans, Uncle Rich makes no effort to hide his enthusiasm for what he
sees.
“You're even more beautiful than I imagined.”
My face warms. “Thank you.” I bite my lips together, trying to muster
up the courage to ask for what I want. “I’d like to see you, too.”
Rich takes his shirt off and places both my hands on his firm chest. He’s
marvelous, all hard muscle and light hair and silvery battle scars.
I glide my palms down his stomach and reach for his belt. My uncle
waits patiently while I fumble with it, then helps me guide the zipper down
over his cock. I push his jeans down over his hips and nearly come again at
the sight of his boxers, soaked with pre-cum.
We really are more alike than I thought.
“Told you it's been a while.” He chuckles, his face reddening. My big,
strong war-hero uncle is blushing like a schoolboy who's been caught
staring at his teacher's cleavage.
I hook my finger into the waistband of his boxers and pull them taut,
sneaking a peek at his cock. It’s fucking massive.
“You must really want me.”
 He cups my jaw, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You have no idea
how long I’ve wanted you, sweetheart.”
“Tell me,” I say. He lowers his mouth to my ear and whispers a number
that makes me blush. “Uncle Rich, that’s all kinds of illegal.”
“Don’t I know it, sweetheart.” Rich pulls his pants and boxers off all the
way, then climbs onto the bed stroking his cock. He kisses me deeply, and
every time the head of his cock brushes my tummy, I whimper. I want to
taste it and play with it, but most of all, I want him to put it inside me.
He wraps my hand around his cock, showing me how to stroke him. It’s
so big, I have to use both hands to grasp him fully. I kiss my way down his
chest, then give the head of his cock a tentative lick. He gasps.
“You can give it a quick suck if you want, baby,” he says. “But after
that, I need to fuck you.”
I swirl my tongue around the head, then wrap my lips around him. The
deep, throaty rumble of his groan vibrates my bones. I take him as far as I
can handle, gagging slightly, which he must like because I’m rewarded with
a silky, salty spurt of pre-cum.
“Fuck,” he rasps, “I can’t wait another minute, baby.” He withdraws
from my mouth and reaches for me, laying me down on the bed and fitting
himself over me. My pulse kicks into high gear. “Are you ready for my
cock, baby girl?”
“Yes, Uncle Rich.” I was fucking born ready. “I need it.”
He wets the head of his cock with my juices, gliding up to tease my clit
a few times before he surges forward. I cry out as my pussy is breached and
stretched wider than it’s ever been before.
“Breathe, baby,” he says into my ear. “I’ve got you.”
I inhale deeply, clinging to him and bracing myself for more of his cock.
He pushes and I open for him, letting him burrow inside me up to the hilt. I
can’t believe he’s really here. After all these years of fantasizing, I have my
uncle in my bed with his cock inside me.
 “You okay, baby?” he asks, his voice strained and his muscles trembling
with the effort of waiting for me to get used to him.
“I’m okay.” I glide my hands down his toned back. “Fuck me. Please.”
I’m not fully prepared for the force of his thrusts, but after a few
seconds of pain, my body adjusts. He fucks me like a man possessed, like
he went to the desert and brought back something dark and demonic,
something determined to eat me up. It hurts a little, but the pain is laced
with exquisite pleasure. He’s reaching into places I didn’t even know
existed, rubbing tender parts I didn’t even know I had.
Soon, the pressure starts to build inside me, deeper and throbbier than
I’m used to, but unmistakably the makings of another orgasm. Usually, I
can only come once every few hours.
With Uncle Rich, I feel like I could come as many times as he’s willing
to take me.
“Oh, God.” I hold him tighter. “I’m coming...”
“That’s my good girl. Show your uncle how much you love his cock.”
He fucks me hard, his breath coming faster and more labored. It’s like
he’s ripping my climax from me, exorcising it from me like an evil spirit,
leaving me soft and pure.
But as soon as he takes it from me, he gives me something else—his
cum. Buckets of it. Pumped into me so roughly I cry out.
Rich cups the back of my head and kisses my brow.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I couldn’t help myself. Next time I’ll be gentle.”
My pussy might be sore, but the fact that he’s so sure there’ll be a next
time makes me feel tingly all over.
“It’s all right, Uncle Rich. I think it’s hot that you couldn’t control
yourself.”
We kiss and cuddle until he’s ready to go again, and just like he
promised, he fucks me slow. It’s almost like being rocked in a cradle, only
the bars are all around me in the form of his big, strong arms.
 This time, when we come, it’s together. With my pussy tightening
around him and his cock filling me up until I overflow.
“Promise you’ll never leave again,” I whisper. “Now that you’re back, I
don’t think I could handle being away from you for so long.”
He kisses me softly.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Taking care of my favorite niece is my
primary objective now.” He slides two fingers inside me and curls them,
making me moan. “And that’s a mission I intend to see through to
completion as often as possible.”
 Roughing It

L et ' s get one thing straight: I do not like camping.

Needless to say, when my parents announced that our summer trip was
going to involve the three of us sharing a tent in the woods, I was less than
thrilled.
“Damn it!” I slapped the back of my neck. “I'm getting eaten alive.”
“I told you to put on bug spray,” my mom chided.
“That stuff smells like poison.”
My dad chuckled and threw another log on the fire. “That's because it is.
For the bugs, anyway.”
“And for the people,” I mumbled.
“Don't start that now, Annabelle.” My mom yawned and stretched her
arms overhead. “That hike wore me out. I think I'm going to take a benz and
call it a night.”
I rolled my eyes. Figures she couldn’t resist bringing a piece of the real
world with her when dragging us into the great outdoors.
My dad sighed. “You'd better hope a bear doesn't attack us in the night
while you're dead to the world.”
“If a bear attacks, I’ll just play dead.” She waved her hand dismissively.
“Goodnight, you two.”
 My mom zipped herself into the deluxe tent, big enough to sleep four
and small enough to make me want to jab something into my ear canals to
drown out her snoring. I leaned forward on the fold-up chair and watched
the flames lick around the logs in the fire pit. My dad poked them with a
stick.
“Only four nights to go, Anna Banana,” he said.
I groaned at both the statement and his use of my childhood nickname.
He laughed softly, opening the cooler to pull out a beer for himself. He
hesitated, then pulled out a second beer and offered it to me.
“Don't tell your mother.” He winked.
“Like she can talk,” I said, taking the can. My mom wasn’t a drinker,
but her little stash of pills hardly afforded her the luxury to judge those who
chose to partake. Anyway, I was almost twenty-one and it wasn’t like I
hadn’t had plenty of chances to drink while away at college. I cracked open
the can and took a sip, savoring the bitter bubbles.
“You know,” he said, “you could at least try to have some fun while
we're out here. For your mom’s sake, if not your own.”
“There's nothing fun about contracting Lyme disease and sleeping on
the ground.”
“What happened to the kid who used to fall asleep in the backyard? You
used to love hiking and swimming.”
“Yeah, when I was twelve.” I took another sip of my beer. “I'm not a
little kid anymore, Dad.”
“I don’t know about that.” He nudged me with his elbow. “I think my
happy camper's still in there, somewhere.”
“Doubt it. But you're welcome to try to coax her out.”
My dad’s smile flattened as he stared into the flames. “You know,
Annabelle, this trip isn't just about having fun. It's about bringing us closer
as a family. The three of us haven't taken a trip together since you were in
high school. I know your mom feels like she's losing you. And, to be
honest, so do I.”
A tide of guilt rolled over me. It was true that I hadn’t been spending
much time with my parents since I started college. Being an only child had
made me the center of their universe when I was growing up. I couldn’t
imagine what it felt like for them to lose the star around which they’d
revolved for so long.
I finished my beer, then tossed it into a bag with the rest of the
recyclables. “I’m going to bed. Or bag. Whatever.”
“Leave the lantern on low,” he said. “I’ll be in right after I douse the
fire.”
Inside the tent, I felt around for the lantern and switched it on, careful
not to blind my mother. She must’ve taken an extra benzo and passed out,
because she was fast asleep—in my sleeping bag. That left only the double-
sized bag that my parents usually shared.
“Thanks, Mom.” I rolled my eyes.
I managed to tease my tank top out from under her pillow and had just
pulled my T-shirt off when my dad unzipped the tent flap.
He froze at the sight of me kneeling there topless, his gaze zeroing in on
my breasts. My nipples hardened; it was as if they could tell they were
being watched. He glanced away. “Sorry, sweetheart. I should’ve—”
“What, knocked?” I put on the tank top and then chucked my T-shirt
into the corner. “I’m decent now.”
My dad crawled into the tent and zipped the flap, then paused when he
saw the bag into which Mom had zipped herself.
“Great.” He sighed. “Guess I'm sleeping on the ground tonight.”
That same pang of guilt from before made my chest tighten. “No, Dad,
that's dumb. Just share the big one with me.”
He hesitated. “You sure?”
 “Yeah.” I figured I owed it to him to try and be a team player. Though I
didn’t always show it, I loved my dad more than anyone else in the world. It
broke my heart to think he felt like I'd left him behind, along with the rest of
my childhood.
I slid into the sleeping bag and turned toward the wall of the tent so he
could change. I watched his shadow, saw him pull his shirt off and unbuckle
his belt. He was a big man, tall and sturdy, and in the best shape of his life
after a heart scare that nearly shattered my world a few years back. As he
stepped out of his cargo pants, I gasped at the unmistakable outline of an
erection tenting the front of his boxers. It was huge.
My dad had seen my breasts and gotten hard.
He switched off the lantern and then slid into the bag beside me.
“G’night, Anna Banana,” he said.
“Goodnight.” I couldn’t get the image of his erection out of my head.
The very strong possibility that he was still hard, lying next to me, made my
pulse jump. But the bizarre thing was that I wasn’t bothered by it at all.
In fact, I was excited. Curious, even.
I rolled onto my other side, facing him. “Dad?”
“Yeah, honey,” he said, his voice raspy.
“Could you hold me like you used to when I was little?”
He didn't respond right away. I squeezed my thighs together at the
thought of getting closer to his cock, maybe even close enough to touch it.
Finally, he said, “Sure.” My dad extended his arm and I cuddled up to
him, my head tucked under his chin. He stroked my upper arm. “Better?”
“Much.” I wrapped my leg around him like I used to when we would
lay together on the hammock in our backyard. My thigh brushed against
something long and firm.
His cock.
My whole body flushed.
“Daddy?” I whispered, nudging his cock with my thigh.
 My dad swallowed loudly and tried to ease my leg off of him. “Anna
Banana, you can't do that.”
I rubbed my thigh back and forth over his cock. He was so warm, even
through his boxers. “I want to be close to you.”
His breath quickened as I pressed harder, grinding my pussy against his
hip at the same time. He slid his hand along my thigh as his arm tightened
around me.
“We have to be quiet,” he whispered.
My dad rolled onto his side, away from my mom, then encouraged me
to face the same direction. His cock fit perfectly between my ass cheeks.
My mom's snoring was exceptionally loud tonight, something I never
thought I'd be thankful for, but I was. He caressed my side as he swept my
hair back to kiss my neck. He kissed me softly, sending little shivers down
my spine. I rubbed my ass against his cock, encouraging him to push back
toward me.
I felt his tongue on my earlobe and then his teeth. His hand stroked my
side and stomach, inching higher. When he cupped my breast, I couldn’t
help whimpering.
“Shhh,” he breathed into my ear.
I bit my lips together as he massaged me, teasing my nipples through
my shirt. It felt like there was a pleasure cord wired directly to my clit. He
hooked his finger into the front of my top and pulled it down. I pushed back
on his cock as his warm hand covered my naked breast.
I could not believe we were doing this less than two feet from my
sleeping mother.
A sigh fell from my lips as my dad gently pinched and strummed my
nipples. My panties were already wet and he’d barely started touching me.
He played with my breasts until I was a trembling, writhing mess. I needed
to feel even more of him against me. I needed to make him feel good, too.
 Reaching between us, I grasped the waistband of his boxers and tried to
pull them down. The angle was wrong, but he got the message, using his
free hand to help me. Lifting my leg, I positioned his cock between my
thighs and then closed them. He thrusted forward, the top side of his cock
rubbing against my soaked panties.
His breath washed over my shoulder. “God, Anna,” he whispered.
“You're so wet.”
My mom shifted, rustling the sleeping bag.
We froze. My dad’s cock throbbed between my legs. Silently, he
resumed moving, sliding back and forth along my panties. It was like he
couldn’t help himself. The feel of him brushing past my clit with each thrust
was making me dizzy. I brought my hand to the front of my panties so I
could push the head of his cock against me each time he slid forward.
My mom started snoring again. My dad gave my breast one last
squeeze, then slid my panties down my thighs so I could kick them off. He
encouraged me to lift my leg so he could wedge his knee between mine,
spreading me. His fingers grazed my pussy, and I clamped a hand over my
mouth to stifle a moan.
Sliding through my wetness, he dipped two fingers inside me, then
brought them back up to massage my clit.
Pleasure surged through me, making my pussy tighten and my clit
pulse. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back whimpers as he fingered me
and continued to glide his cock along my slick lips. It wouldn’t take more
than a slight tilt of his hips to push his cock inside me. The thought of my
own father fucking me with my mother sleeping nearby was so hot and
dirty, it was almost enough to make me come.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to make it happen.
Reaching between my legs, I angled his cock upward so that it entered
me on his next forward thrust.
 My dad gasped. He tensed with his cock halfway inside me, his fingers
still on my clit.
He swallowed. “Anna Banana, what have you done?”
“I want to be as close to you as possible, Daddy.”
His cock drew back until it was almost out of me, then stopped. It was
like he was debating what he should do. A few seconds later, he surged
forward until he was all the way inside me.
I cried out.
My dad’s hand clamped over my mouth.
“Quiet, sweetheart,” he said. “We have to be very quiet.”
His fingers strummed my clit as his cock rammed me. I panted through
my nose, my dad’s pelvis smacking my ass each time he drove into me. His
cock filled my pussy. This was so wrong, what we were doing, but it felt
too damn good to tell him to stop.
My dad pressed down on me, easing me down so he could lie on top of
me, with my knee bent just enough to leave room for his hand on my clit.
I held my breath as I came, my pussy tightening—almost painfully tight
—squeezing his cock as pleasure rippled outward from my clit like a rock
tossed into a pond.
“Oh my God,” he rasped. “Anna, you feel amazing.”
He braced himself against the ground as he fucked me hard. By the time
I realized what was about to happen, it was too late.
“Dad, wait—”
But there was nothing to stop him from shooting off inside me. Spurt
after spurt of hot, white cum that could only lead to an even bigger mess
nine months down the road. Even so, he continued to thrust into me until
his cock softened and his arms went limp.
“Shit,” he hissed, his forehead resting between my shoulder blades. “I
shouldn’t have done that.”
 He pulled out of me, then felt around the until he found his T-shirt,
which he brought between my legs to wipe his cum off me. It was a kind
gesture, but there was no undoing what we had just done. No amount of
cleaning and tidying that would put things back to the way they were
before.
Not that I wanted things to go back to the way they were.
“Daddy,” I whispered, taking the shirt from his hand and setting it aside.
“It’s okay.”
He settled back down and drew me close. “I’m so sorry, Annabelle. I
should have pulled out.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I kissed him gently. “I’m not.”
We righted our clothes so that if my mom woke up before us, she
wouldn’t suspect anything. Still, we couldn’t resist falling asleep like we
used to, with his arm around me and my head tucked beneath his chin.

My parents were already up and about when I awoke the next morning.
The scent of bacon and sausage and coffee coaxed me from the tent. I
unzipped the flap, then hesitated when I heard my mom's cheery, “Morning,
honey,” greeting.
So, she had slept through it all. I sighed with relief.
“Morning, Mom.”
“Want some breakfast?”
“Sure, that’d be great.”
She piled a plate with eggs and bacon, then handed it to me. I thanked
her and started eating. The two of us ate in companionable silence for a few
minutes, until my dad stepped onto the campsite with an armload of logs
and kindling. He eyed me warily at first, until I waved to him. He smiled
back in turn.
 “Hey, Mom?” I said, turning to look at her.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I'm glad we came out here. It's been nice spending time with you
guys.”
She patted my hand. “I'm so glad to hear it, Annabelle.”
My dad placed the wood on the ground next to the fire pit and then sat
down beside me at the picnic table. He pulled me into a side hug. “I knew
my happy camper was in there somewhere.”
“Sounds like you just needed a good night's sleep to draw her out,” said
Mom.
“Yep.” I couldn’t help smiling. “That’s exactly what I needed.”
 The Best Man

A pair of French doors is all that stands between me and my future

husband. I say future like it’s somewhere far away, but in fact it’s all laid
out before me: the rest of my life as Mrs. Scott Johansson. I close my eyes
and count to ten as the violins fade out and the pianist begins playing
Wagner’s Bridal Chorus. My dress is fitted, but not tight, yet for some
reason, I can’t breathe.
A warm hand comes to rest on my upper back, exposed by the open
style of my white lace gown.
“You ready, pumpkin?” my dad asks.
Breathing deep, I loop my hand around his arm. “I think so.”
“Are you sure?” He squints at me. He can always tell when I’m anxious.
I nod.
The room feels as if it’s breathing along with me, expanding and
contracting—mostly contracting. We’re standing in a long hallway, but it
might as well be a shoebox.
I can see the ushers reaching for the door handles. This is it. I’m about
to walk down the aisle and marry a man who adores me, a man who was
patient enough to wait to have sex until our wedding night. Well, almost. He
pretty much demanded I give him blow jobs to tide him over until our
wedding night. I mean, tonight. Jesus Christ...
 I can't do this.
“Dad,” I whisper. “I can't.”
“What's that, Bella?”
“I can't marry Scott,” I say. “I'm sorry. I need to get out of here.”
Just as the French doors open and all eyes on both sides of the aisle turn
toward us, my dad takes my small hand in his big one.
“Come on,” he says. “We'll take my car.”
We bolt, running as fast as my heels will allow down the long hallway
and out the emergency exit. An alarm blares as we burst out into the cool
spring afternoon. Thankfully, his car isn’t parked far from the building. He
opens the passenger-side door and helps me wrangle the gauzy tail of my
gown inside. I can hear Scott and the wedding planner calling to us.
It’s not until my dad climbs behind the wheel that I realize I’m still
holding my bouquet. As we peel out of the parking lot, I bring my window
down and toss the bouquet onto the concrete.
“My heart is pounding,” I say, pressing my hand to my chest. “I can’t
believe we just did that.”
Dad reaches over and pats my knee. “To be completely honest,
pumpkin, I'm fucking relieved.”
“You are?”
“Hell yeah. You’re too good for him, Bella. I’ve known it from the very
beginning.”
I gape at him. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Would you have listened?”
I stare straight ahead. “Probably not.”
“Exactly. The only way people learn anything is by making their own
mistakes, but fuck if I didn't want to lock you in a tower and tell that piece
of shit you'd died.”
I laugh. I laugh so hard my side hurts. For the first time in two years, I
finally feel like I can breathe again.
 Dad laughs too, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. He wipes them
away.
“Well,” he says, “where should we go?”
“I have no idea.”
He scratches his chin, already tinted by a five o’clock shadow and it’s
not even two p.m. “I know a place. But it’s a surprise.”
“Honestly, you could drive us to China and back, and I’d be happy. I’m
just grateful to be out of there.”
Dad kisses my hand and then turns on the radio. We sing along to
classic rock as he drives us through the countryside. He pulls into the
parking lot of an elegant resort, the kind of place that’s probably bustling
during ski season, but mercifully uncrowded in the spring. He parks the car
and helps me out, then takes my hand and leads me through the beautifully
furnished lobby to the elevator.
“What is this place?” I ask.
My dad smiles and holds a finger to my lips. “You’ll see.”
The elevator stops on the top floor. We step out into the hall. Dad walks
me to a door and pulls a cardkey out of his suit pocket.
“Welcome to your honeymoon suite.” He unlocks the door and flips on
the light.
The room is enormous. There are flowers and unlit candles everywhere.
A giant jacuzzi tub with pillars sits behind a two-sided fireplace, on the
other side of which is a king-size bed strewn with rose petals.
I’m so stunned I can’t speak.
“I knew you and Scott weren’t flying off to Bermuda until Monday,”
Dad says. “So I booked this place for the weekend. I was going to surprise
you with the key during the toast.”
I walk a slow circle around the room. This suite has everything a girl
could ask for on her wedding night, down to the his-and-her bath towels.
“It’s perfect, Dad. Thank you.”
 “You’re welcome, pumpkin.”
I watch the flames lick around the fake logs in the gas fireplace. My
dad’s not the wealthiest man, but he’s the hardest worker I know. I can only
imagine how much this extravagance cost him, not to mention the money he
contributed to the wedding. It suddenly hits me how selfish I’m being.
I sit down on the bed. “Dad, I’m sorry.”
He frowns, puzzled. “For what?”
“Everything.” I wave my hand at the luxury around us. “This gorgeous
room and the beautiful ceremony and my stupid six-thousand-dollar dress.
It’s all been such a huge waste of time and money.”
He cradles my face in his hands. “Nothing I ever do for you is a waste,
Bella. You made a mistake. We all make mistakes. I’m just glad that I can
be here for you when you need me. To be honest, I kind of felt like I was
losing you to that asshole.”
I cup the backs of his hands. “You’ll never lose me, Dad. No matter who
I marry, I’ll always belong to you first and foremost.”
“I’m afraid that’s not how it works, pumpkin.” He sighs. “I just wish I
could know for sure that the man you end up with will respect you. That
he'll love you and cherish you as much as I do.”
The love in his eyes wraps itself around my heart like a fist. I can’t
imagine anyone else loving me as unconditionally as my dad does. Then, it
hits me—I should marry my dad. He’s single, and most marriages
eventually end up sexless anyway, don’t they? And what is a marriage
besides an unbreakable bond between two people who love and support
each other?
It’s a crazy idea, but it’s not the first crazy idea I’ve had all day.
“What if we got married?” I ask.
My dad cocks his head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if we promise to love and honor and respect each other
right now? That’s an exchange of vows, just like a wedding ceremony.”
 “Pumpkin...” He shakes his head. “We can’t get married. It’s against the
law.”
“I know that. But who needs a stupid piece of paper anyway? If we’re
married in our hearts, then that’s all that matters.” I gaze up at his handsome
face. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend my life with. You already
take such good care of me. If we were man and wife instead of just father
and daughter, I could take care of you, too.”
He eyes me curiously. “Is that what you really want?”
“More than anything else in the world. Unless...you don’t want to.”
“No, that’s not it.” My dad runs a hand down his face and then kneels
on the carpet in front of me.
My pulse flutters. This is happening. I’m about to marry my father. In
spirit, at least, which is all that really matters.
“I,” he says, “your father, take you, Bella, to be my wife. To have and to
hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in
sickness and in health, until death do us part.”
He slides Scott’s ring off my finger and stuffs it into his pocket. In its
place, he plants a kiss, and for some strange reason the touch of his lips
makes my nipples tighten.
“Do you, Bella, take me, your father, to be your husband?”
I don’t even have to think about it.
“I do, Dad.”
He smiles. “Then I pronounce us man and wife.”
We stand. He pulls me into a hug and I melt against him. I feel woozy,
lightheaded, drunk on my love for him. He cradles my jaw and plants a kiss
at the corner of my mouth. I kiss him chastely on the lips, and for the
briefest of seconds, I feel the echo of a pulse in my pussy.
My dad—now my husband—looks like the happiest man alive. “How
about I run my blushing bride a bubble bath?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
 He rounds the fireplace and turns on the water. I slip off my shoes and
start to let down my hair. I reach around to undo the tiny buttons on the
back of my dress, and I almost have the first one undone when I feel my
dad’s hands on mine.
“Here,” he says. “Let me do that for you.”
I let my hands fall to my sides as he unfastens my buttons and then
draws my lace straps down. He bares my breasts. I close my eyes, lost in
the romance of the moment. This is what brides and grooms do on their
wedding night, help each other undress. Should I be grossed out by the fact
that the man helping me is also my dad?
Before I can answer that, my dress falls and I’m standing there in just a
slip. I decided not to wear panties under my gown this morning—a surprise
for Scott that I should probably regret, but I don’t. My dad’s seen my butt
before; what’s one more look? He hooks his fingers into the waistband of
the slip and eases the garment down my legs.
“I’ll get you a robe,” he says quickly.
I stand with my hands crossed in front of my pussy until he returns with
a white silk robe. I don’t know how much of me he sees when he helps me
into it, and the thought of him seeing more than just my ass makes me feel
shy. He takes my hand and walks me to the giant tub, which is already half
full.
“Your bath should be ready in a few minutes,” he says. “I’ll just watch
TV or something until you’re ready to come out.”
I don’t want him to watch TV, I realize. I want him to join me, like the
makers of this giant tub intended. Like a husband is supposed to.
“Dad,” I say, “do you think you could wash my hair like you used to
when I was little?”
He looks uncertain. “Um. Sure, pumpkin.”
I untie my robe, making sure this time that he can see all of me. “And
when you’re done, can you wash the rest of me, too?”
 My dad’s gaze dances over my body, from my breasts to my stomach to
my hips and my pussy—freshly waxed at the suggestion of my girlfriends.
He wets his lips. “Whatever you need, Bella.”
He helps me into the tub. The water feels amazing and smells like rose-
scented soap. He removes his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves, then
reaches for the shampoo bottle as though he intends to wash my hair from
outside the bathtub.
“Why don’t you join me, Dad?” I smile warmly. “Then you won’t have
to worry about getting your clothes wet.”
“I don’t mind getting wet,” he says. I inhale deeply, forcing my stiff,
pink nipples to peek up from under the carpet of bubbles. He stares at them.
“Then you won’t mind getting in the tub with me.”
His throat shifts as he considers my offer.
“Come on, Dad,” I goad him. “It’s our wedding night. We should enjoy
the honeymoon suite to the fullest.”
My dad’s gaze meets mine, and the intensity in his eyes sends a shiver
up my spine.
“Bella, if you want me to be your husband tonight, I will. I’ll treat you
like a groom should treat his bride on their wedding night. Is that what you
want?”
I realize that’s exactly what I want. Waiting until marriage had been my
idea. I wanted my first time to be with my husband. I’d been looking
forward to it for months—years if I’m being honest. I want to give my
virginity to someone I love, someone who deserves it.
And who can I trust to treasure that gift more than the man I married?
“Yes,” I say. “I want that.”
As soon as he takes his pants off, I see why he was so unsure about
getting in the tub with me. His cock is hard, long and thick, and bigger than
Scott’s by at least three inches. I’m a little scared just looking at it, so I turn
to face the wall, sitting cross-legged at the center of the enormous tub so my
dad—my husband—can sit behind me.
“Is the water warm enough,” he asks, settling into the water with his
legs stretched out alongside mine.
I nod. He shampoos and conditions my hair, his cock poking me in the
back all the while. After a thorough rinse, he encourages me to lean against
his chest and then begins to soap my body. I whimper as his sudsy hands
glide over my shoulders and chest.
“Did you and Scott ever fuck in a bathtub?”
“No,” I say. “We never fucked at all.”
His hands stop in their tracks. “Are you saying my bride is a virgin?”
“Is that bad?”
“Not at all.” He kisses my cheek, then my neck. “But you must’ve done
some things.”
“A few things.” I moan as his hands glide up to cup my breasts. He
caresses my nipples, the soap making them extra slippery.
“There’s no way Scott went two years without at least getting to touch
your tits,” Dad says. “They’re fucking perfect.”
“He liked to pinch and pull my nipples.”
“Did you like when he did that?”
“Sometimes. But mostly it just hurt.”
“That bumbling shithead.” My dad’s touch is so sweet and gentle that I
want to cry. My hips start to buck. The water ripples. My clit tingles and
aches to be rocked against something.
My husband’s hand slides down my stomach. I gasp as he palms my
pussy. “Did he ever touch you here?”
I shake my head.
“No?” he asks, his tone incredulous. “But you touch yourself here,
right?”
I bite my lower lip. “Not really.”
 “What does that mean?”
“I usually just rub against things. I don’t touch with my hands.”
“Jesus. My poor deprived bride.” He pets my pussy lips, ultra-sensitive
thanks to the recent wax. I can’t believe how good it feels to have his hand
down there, like infinite little pleasure shocks merging into one big,
throbbing ball of need between my hips. He hooks his legs around mine and
spreads my thighs wide. “What kinds of things do you rub against?”
“Mmm... Uhh...” How does he expect me to talk when he’s touching me
like this? “Pillows.”
“Just one or do you stack them?”
He parts my pussy lips.
“B-both.” I moan and twitch as he strokes my clit directly. It’s so
intense. Almost too intense. I try and close my legs, but he pins them open.
“It’s okay,” he coos. “You’ll get used to it.”
My dad circles my clit lightly, then rubs up and down, switching up his
technique until he finds the touch that makes me tremble. He continues to
tease my nipples as he fingers me, pinching just enough to focus the
sensation without hurting. He’s patient and attentive, he’s generous. He
makes me want to tense up and bear down and be everywhere at once.
I grapple for purchase on the sides of the tub as I feel my orgasm
ratcheting. It’s amazing how much more intense the build-up is when
you’re being fingered as opposed to humping soft things. He holds me
tightly, keeping my legs apart as he strokes. I can feel his cock rubbing,
rubbing, rubbing against my back, as my muscles clench and a shockwave
of pleasure ricochets outward from my pussy.
“Oh, God. Oh...” I yowl like a cat in heat. “Daddy, that feels so... Fuck.”
My muscles are still throbbing when my dad grips my waist and says,
“Stand up, baby girl.”
We rise to our feet. He hits the switch to drain the tub, then grabs a big
bath towel and begins drying me. His cock is so hard it’s hugging his belly.
I know I could make him feel good with my mouth. As he’s drying my hair,
I wrap my fingers around his shaft and stroke.
“I want to make you come, too, Daddy.”
Air whistles through his teeth. He pumps into my fist. “Oh, pumpkin,
don’t you worry. You’re going to make us both feel amazing in a few
minutes.”
I’m not sure what he means. He helps me out of the tub and dries my
feet, then dries himself. For the first time since we said our vows, he kisses
me. His kiss is hungry, like he wants to devour me, like he wants to own my
mouth. I suck on his tongue as he slides a hand between my thighs to pet
my pussy.
“I love your little whimpers,” he growls. “It’s a damn good thing I’m
going to be the first to fuck you. I wouldn’t trust your innocence to anyone
else.”
My husband lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist instinctively.
His cock pulses against my pussy as he walks us around the fireplace and
then lays me on the rose-petal-strewn bed. He kisses my stomach and then
my smooth mound. I gasp as he licks my pussy lips and then spreads them.
“I want to make sure you’re good and wet before I fuck you,” he says.
He French kisses my clit, gliding his tongue over the tender bud again and
again.
The pleasure is even more acute than when he used his fingers. He licks
my pussy until I’m a shaking, whining mess. Then he climbs on the bed and
positions himself between my legs.
“I love you so much, Bella,” he says. “You’ve made me the happiest
man alive.”
“I love you, too, Dad—ah!”
His cock prods my opening, pushing past my lips and slipping partway
into my pussy. My muscles burn. My dad pets my face and kisses me, says
he’s sorry for the pain and tells me to keep breathing. I cry out as he thrusts
a little deeper.
“Fuck, you feel amazing.” He pushes forward until he runs out of room,
retreats, then returns. His cock stretches me. I concentrate on his kisses and
the sound of my heart pounding, until the pain starts to fade and I can feel
myself rising to meet his thrusts.
“That’s it,” he says. “That’s my dirty girl.” Dad takes my hand and puts
it between my legs. “Touch yourself like I touched you in the tub.”
I give my clit a few tentative strokes before I settle into a rhythm. It
feels so much better than humping a pillow. I can feel my pussy growing
even slicker, hear the wet noises his cock makes as he fucks me. My inner
muscles flutter and I think I might actually come again if he doesn’t finish
before me. I spread my legs wider, bracing my feet on the bed so I can
really rock my hips. Dad rises to a kneeling position so he can look down at
me.
“My wife,” he rasps. “My sweet. Little. Wife.” With each word, he
slams into me, making me moan.
I rub my pussy faster until I can’t hold it together any longer.
Then, I let go.
“Oh, fuck, Daddy!” I cry out as my orgasm rockets through me.
He holds himself above me with taut, muscular arms as he rams his
cock into me over and over. It hurts a little, but it’s a good kind of hurt, and
not nearly painful enough to cut my orgasm short.
Just as my own climax is waning, my dad comes in a series of grunts,
filling my pussy with thick, hot cum—more than it can hold. So much cum
that I feel it trickle down my ass cheeks onto the rose petals.
My dad’s cock stays hard for a while after, and he continues to fuck me
slowly until he slips out. He pulls me into his arms, showering my neck and
chest with sweet kisses.
“Was that everything you hoped it would be?” he asks.
 I kiss him deeply. “It was all that and more.”
He pets my pussy. I gasp as the man I married slides two fingers inside
me, then paints my tender clit with his cum. “I hope you were planning on a
big family, pumpkin,” Daddy says. “Because I intend to fuck you like that
every night for the rest of our lives.”
 Down and Dirty

T he sun has just barely kissed the horizon when my Uncle Bax taps me
on the shoulder. He points, and I follow the trajectory of his finger until I
see her through the trees. She’s beautiful. With big ears and large, dark
eyes, scanning the woods for predators, for me. I watch her through the
scope on my rifle. I only have a few minutes before the day’s hunt is over,
and I’ve been waiting all weekend for this moment.
Uncle Bax squeezes my shoulder. He knows how badly I want this.
“Breathe,” he whispers.
I inhale deeply, just the way he taught me, then flex my finger on the
exhale.
A shot slices through the quiet as the rifle’s butt kicks my shoulder. I
glance up just in time to catch the blur of the deer’s white tail as it vanishes
through the trees.
Another miss. My second since we came all the way out here.
“Goddamn it,” I mutter. “I did everything I was supposed to do.”
Uncle Bax pulls me into a side hug. He’s so tall that my forehead barely
reaches his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Evie. You’ll get one. We’ve still got a
few more days.” He checks his watch. “Let’s head back. Maybe your old
man got something.”
 We trek back to the main trail and then down to where my daddy’s truck
is parked. He’s waiting for us behind the wheel. We load our stuff into the
bed—empty of deer—and climb inside, me sandwiched between my daddy
and my uncle.
“Looks like you two fared about as well as I did,” Daddy says. He shifts
the truck into reverse and turns us in the direction of my uncle’s hunting
cabin.
“Evie almost got one,” Uncle Bax says. “A good-sized doe up by the
ridge.”
“Almost but not quite,” I grumble.
My daddy pats my thigh. “You’ll get her next time, bunny.”
Under different circumstances, the term of endearment would give me
the warm fuzzies, but right now it bites like an insult. Because that’s exactly
what I was today: a twitchy little bunny. No more capable of taking down a
full-grown doe than a rabbit.
I watch the sun set between the trees as we make our way to Uncle
Bax’s hunting cabin. I love it out here, away from the noises of suburbia
and the crowds of my high school. I’ve been sneaking off to play in the
woods my whole life, but this is my first real hunting trip. My mom always
hated that I was a tomboy, and she sure as hell never wanted me to learn to
hunt. But as soon as I turned eighteen last summer, I made my daddy
promise to take me hunting over Thanksgiving break.
We pull into the gravel driveway and start unloading the truck.
“Steaks tonight?” Daddy asks.
“Sounds good to me,” I say.
“Hey, bunny.” Uncle Bax taps my shoulder. “Grab a bag of charcoal
from the shed. I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
“Sure.” I help my daddy carry our things into the small mud room and
then make my way around to the other side of the cabin.
 There’s a lock on the shed where Uncle Bax keeps the charcoal, among
other outdoor supplies. Thankfully, he has the combination set to my
birthday to make it easy for me to remember. I get the door open and drag
out a bag of briquettes. I’m just about finished re-locking the shed door
when I notice the cabin’s bathroom window light up.
Most of the windows in Uncle Bax’s cabin don’t have curtains. He likes
to wake up with the sun, sometimes even earlier if he’s planning on going
hunting. It’s almost dark now, which means I can clearly make out the
interior of the bathroom—including Uncle Bax taking his shirt off. He
bends at the waist to peel off his boxers. I can only see from the vee of his
pelvis upward, but what I can see is clear as day. He stretches, and I can’t
help noticing the way his muscles ripple beneath his suntanned skin.
There’s no denying that my uncle is hot. So is my daddy, the both of
them tall and muscular with blue eyes and dirty-blond hair. Mom once told
me girls practically threw themselves at the two of them in high school. If
the guys in my school looked half as good as my daddy and my uncle, I
might fawn all over them, too. But they aren’t. So, I don’t.
Uncle Bax steps into the shower, which happens to be located directly in
front of the window.
I should leave. I definitely shouldn’t stay and watch as he lathers the bar
of soap in his hands, then proceeds to smooth that lather all over his chest
and stomach. His hands glide down his torso, past what I can see through
the window. He must be washing his cock.
My breath catches. I blush. Mom says girls shouldn’t touch their
privates unless they’re washing them. She says it’s dirty. When I asked why
boys are allowed to, she said they can’t help themselves. They’re animals;
it’s in their nature.
Uncle Bax takes his time washing himself. His mouth falls open.
Something long and thick with a rounded head juts into view, protruding
from his pelvis. I gasp as I realize I’m looking at my uncle’s hard cock.
 I know how guys get hard. I learned all about it in health class, plus
there was that one time I crawled into my parents’ bed during a lightning
storm. My daddy must’ve mistaken me for my mom because when he
spooned me, I felt his cock grow hard against my backside. My clit tingled
like crazy for hours afterward—exactly like it’s tingling now. I know the
names for all the girl parts, but I've never put my hands down there for
more than a few seconds.
Watching my uncle stroke his cock makes me want to hump something.
It’s the only guilty pleasure I allow myself, and only when I can’t take the
tingles another second. I always feel dirty afterward. Uncle Bax’s hand
moves faster. I can’t stop staring at his soaped-up cock, only half-visible
above the windowsill. He stills his hand to thrust into his fist, almost like
he’s thrusting into something, or someone.
I don’t notice that I’m squeezing my thighs together until I feel the
pressure against my mound. A soft moan escapes my lips as I push against
myself. My clit tingles. My head swims. I feel floaty, like I’m rising up and
out of my body. I feel dirty, yes, but for once, it doesn’t feel so wrong.
Uncle Bax looks out the window, squints into the twilight. Our eyes
lock. Panic grips my stomach as I turn to face the shed, like I've been
innocently fiddling with the lock this entire time, not watching my uncle
stroke his fat cock.
“Bunny,” my daddy calls. “You find the charcoal?” He rounds the
corner of the cabin, his gaze narrowing on the bathroom window. I
accidentally drop the bag, spilling briquettes on the ground. My daddy eyes
me curiously. “Here, bunny, let me get that—”
“I’ve got it.” I gather up the few bits I can find in the dark, then heft the
bag of charcoal into my arms.
My knees wobble as I hurry past my father. I can barely compose
myself enough to make it up the porch stairs. I dump the bag beside the grill
and head inside, not stopping until I’m safely shut up in the guest bedroom
where my daddy and I are staying.
I press my back to the door, my pulse galloping. Someone knocks. I feel
the thumps reverberate into my back.
“Evie?” my daddy says. “Bunny, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I snap, cradling my face in my hands. I can’t believe I
watched my uncle jerk off. What’s worse, I can’t believe watching him
made me want to touch myself. Even now, the memory of it makes my clit
tingle.
I tell myself I’m just trying to get comfortable as I slip off my coat and
boots and peel off my jeans and sweater. Climbing onto the bed in nothing
but a t-shirt and underwear, I fight the urge to slip a pillow between my
thighs. I’m so turned-on it hurts, and it hurts so badly I want to cry.
The door creaks open. I freeze up as two sets of footsteps enter the
room.
“Bunny?” Uncle Bax says.
I can’t bring myself to look at him.
A hand strokes my arm and then eases me onto my back—my daddy’s
hand. He and my uncle gaze down at me with concern in their eyes. They
think I’m upset, and in a way, I am. But it’s only because I don’t know how
to handle the pressure building inside me, the intense neediness between my
legs that won’t let up.
I can hear my mother’s voice in my head: Don’t touch yourself down
there, Evelyn. It’s dirty!
“Bunny,” Daddy says. “It’s okay. You can talk to us.”
Uncle Bax sits at the foot of the bed. He’s wearing the towel he used to
dry himself and nothing else. “I know you saw me, Evie, and it’s okay. I’m
not mad.”
Warmth fills my cheeks. I try and roll onto my stomach so they can’t see
how hot I’m blushing, but my daddy won’t let me. He guides me to a seated
position so he can sit down next to me. I hug my knees.
“It’s natural to be curious,” he says. “Or scared. Whatever you’re
feeling is perfectly fine.”
I can’t help the harsh laugh that rocks my chest. My uncle rests his hand
on my knee. He might as well have rested it on my tit for how it makes my
pulse flutter. My daddy wraps his arm around my shoulder, and I snuggle
into his side. I love these men so much. There's nothing they wouldn't do
for me, and vice versa. I trust them completely.
Maybe I should just be honest.
“I feel...dirty.”
Uncle Bax’s brow crimps. “Dirty?”
I nod.
“You feel dirty because you saw Uncle Baxter in the shower?” my
daddy asks.
I pick at the skin around my thumb nail. “I feel dirty because seeing
Uncle Bax touch himself made me want to do the same thing. And Mom
says it’s wrong for girls to touch themselves.”
My daddy and Uncle Bax share a loaded glance. It’s almost like they’re
having a full-on conversation without the need for words. Must be a twin
thing.
“Show us,” Daddy says.
I tense. “Show you...what?”
My daddy and Uncle Bax each grasp one of my knees and spread my
legs.
“Jesus, you really are excited,” Uncle Bax says, his gaze locked on my
panties.
I bite my lips together, embarrassed. The two best men in my life stare
in wonder at my drenched panties like the simple white cotton is something
extraordinary, a treasure they’ve just unearthed. Uncle Bax looks
imploringly at my daddy.
 My daddy nods.
I gasp as Uncle Bax presses two fingers to the crotch of my panties, at
the spot where my opening lies hidden. He pushes on the material, then
hooks his fingers into the elastic and teases the fabric aside. My daddy
swears under his breath.
“What a perfect little pussy,” Uncle Bax says. He licks his lips, and I
immediately feel like my namesake again, like prey about to pounced upon.
Embarrassment and something else—that dirty feeling I get whenever I
hump my pillow—skitters down my spine and makes me want to close my
thighs. But Daddy and Uncle Bax won’t let me. They hold my knees apart,
even as I try to clamp them.
“Don’t be scared, bunny.” My daddy kisses my temple. “You know,
there’s nothing wrong with feeling a little dirty sometimes.”
“There isn’t?”
He shakes his head. “Remember how you used to sneak out and play in
the woods when you were a kid?”
I smile at the memory. “Yeah.”
“And remember how your mom would get annoyed when you came
home covered in dirt and grass stains?”
I nod.
“Well,” he says, “it’s kind of like that. Getting dirty now doesn’t make
you dirty forever. You know you’ll take a bath eventually. But in the
meantime, you get to play in the mud.”
What he’s saying makes sense. I don’t have much time to internalize it
however, once Uncle Bax starts petting my pussy lips. He spreads them
with two fingers. I shiver knowing he’s looking at my most private parts.
“You want to get dirty with us, baby bunny?” Uncle Bax asks.
My heart pounds in my chest. I know I shouldn’t want to, but the tingly
feeling between my legs is so strong, I think I might die if I don’t do
something about it. I nod.
 Daddy smiles. “Lift your ass, Evie.”
I do as I’m told. Uncle Bax pulls my panties off. I whimper as he
spreads my legs again, his gaze hungry. His towel slips as he sidles up
beside me, and his cock springs out. He’s hard, and it looks even bigger this
close up. Once again, I can’t take my eyes off it.
“Go on, bunny,” Uncle Bax says. “You can touch it.”
I swallow hard. My hand twitches, but I can’t bring myself to reach
over. I’ve never touched a cock before.
Uncle Bax takes my hand. “Like this.”
He wraps my hand around his shaft. It’s so warm, the skin softer than I
thought it would be, like velvet over hot stone. He shows me how to stroke
him, up and down, just like in the shower. My inner muscles tighten as I try
and imagine what it would feel like to take him inside me.
Daddy smooths his hand along my inner thigh, inching closer and closer
to my pussy with every stroke. I’m about to go crazy with anticipation
when Uncle Bax’s hand slides under my t-shirt. My breasts are small and
high, so I almost never wear a bra, and today is no exception. I whimper as
his hand closes over my right breast.
“Let’s see those tits,” my daddy says.
Uncle Bax gently pinches my nipple and then pulls my shirt up.
Daddy’s warm breath washes over my chest. “You’re fucking gorgeous,
bunny.” He unzips his pants and pulls out his cock, also big and fat like my
uncle’s. “Put your other hand on me, bunny.”
I fist both of their cocks as my daddy reaches down to finally pet my
pussy. Uncle Bax can’t get enough of my nipples. Pinching them, thumbing
them, licking his fingers and spreading his saliva all over them. Liquid
pleasure rushes through my veins. My head swims. When my daddy strokes
my clit, I cry out, my hips rising off the bed. He laughs, a deep, throaty
sound that makes my muscles clench.
 “Your poor untouched pussy is practically weeping.” Daddy dips his
finger down to my opening, then brings it back up to slicken my clit. I
moan. I had no idea that such a tiny, concentrated spot could make me feel
so good everywhere else.
My hands tighten on their cocks. Uncle Bax kisses my cheek and then
turns my face toward him to claim my mouth. His tongue slips past my lips.
He doesn’t stop teasing my nipples even as my rhythm on his cock goes
erratic.
I can feel something building inside me, something big and intense. My
daddy rubs my clit faster like he knows something I don’t.
Uncle Bax grasps my jaw, breaking our kiss to speak directly into my
open mouth. “You know why I needed to jerk off as soon as we got back?
It’s ’cause I spent all day staring at your tight little ass, wishing I could fuck
it. Well, tonight I’m gonna fuck your ass, bunny. I’m gonna fuck the shit out
of that tight little hole.”
His words are filthy, the images they paint in my mind’s eye even
filthier. No one has ever been inside my pussy, let alone my ass. A shiver of
fear trickles through me, all the way down to the spot where my daddy’s
fingers stroke and stoke me. It’s like he’s turned my inner pilot light into a
brushfire.
A burst of heat and pressure swells between my legs, then expands. The
tingles turn to throbs. The throbs consume me.
“Oh, god,” I whine. “Oh, Daddy. Uncle Bax... Ahh!”
My whole body shudders with the force of what’s happening to me. Is
this my first real orgasm? How have I gone eighteen years without
experiencing this? I suddenly hate my mother with every fiber of my being
for making me feel ashamed of this feeling, ashamed of my body and the
amazing things it can do.
I whimper as Daddy slips a finger into my sopping-wet hole. It slides in
with no resistance.
 “Fuck, I need to get in there,” he says, rising from the bed.
Daddy takes his clothes off, and I can’t help the way my eyes drift over
his body. Seeing him and Bax together makes my pussy tighten and my
nipples hard. I have to squeeze them. Both men catch the gesture and smile.
“Stand up, Evie,” Daddy says. “I want to look at you.”
I move off the bed, my hands coming to rest over my pussy, which is
silly because they’ve already seen me, but I can’t help feeling shy. Naked,
they come to stand in front of and behind me. I’m trapped; I couldn’t escape
if I wanted to. Good thing I don’t want to. Uncle Bax lifts my arms as my
daddy pulls my shirt off. I’m pinned in place by their bare chests, their hard
cocks, as they run their hands up and down my body.
“We’re both going to fuck you, Evie,” my daddy says. “At the same
time.”
My eyes go wide. “But...I don’t think I can—”
“You can,” Uncle Bax whispers into my ear. He squeezes my ass. “You
will.”
Daddy spreads out on the bed. Uncle Bax holds my hand as I climb on
top of him. My daddy grips my hips and helps position me over his cock.
“Okay, bunny,” Daddy says. “Slide that virgin pussy down on Daddy’s
cock.”
I cry out as the head breaches my pussy lips. My muscles tense. I
tremble, holding myself above him as I try and get used to the feeling.
“Just breathe through it, bunny,” says Uncle Bax.
I close my eyes and try and slide down further, but it hurts. “I can’t.”
Uncle Bax kneads my shoulders. “Relax little bunny. I’ve got you.”
I barely notice him putting pressure on my shoulders. All I can feel are
his skilled fingers and thumbs soothing away my aches and worries.
My daddy’s cock slides up into me. He groans. “Shit, you’re tight,
bunny.” He licks his thumb and presses the wet pad to my clit. I
instinctively start to hump him. “That’s it, baby girl. Ride Daddy’s cock
until you come.”
I ride him, even as my thighs tremble and my legs cramp. Uncle Bax’s
footsteps recede, but I’m too distracted to ask where he’s going. When he
returns, I hear the metallic sound of a lid being pried open.
“What’s that?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder.
“Bag Balm.” He holds up two fingers covered in thick jelly. “Great for
soothing dry hands and, in a pinch, anal sex.”
My heart kicks in my chest. “Anal...sex?”
He grins. “I told you I was gonna fuck your ass.”
I swallow hard. My daddy’s hands glide up my sides as Uncle Bax
climbs into bed behind me. Both men guide me forward so that I’m resting
on my daddy’s chest with my ass in the air. I gasp as the cool jelly touches
my back hole.
“But how can you both fit inside me at the same time?” I ask, my voice
shaking.
My daddy’s cock throbs. He smooths my hair. “We can if we go slow.”
He kisses me on the mouth as Uncle Bax presses the head of his cock to
my tight hole. As my daddy slides his tongue into my mouth, Uncle Bax
eases his cock inside me. I squirm. He holds my hips steady through the
burn, moving slowly. I moan as the outer ring of muscle closes around his
head. He runs his big, warm hands up and down my back, soothing me as
he attempts to bust me open.
“You’re doing great, bunny,” Daddy says. “Just relax and let us do the
work.”
I hold my body still as my daddy thrusts up into me. My pussy is used
to his cock, and with every out thrust, my uncle eases a little bit further
inside me. I can’t get enough of the sounds they make, the breathy curses
and soft grunts. I love that I’m making them feel good, even as they’re
overloading my circuit boards.
 When my uncle’s cock is fully seated inside me, my daddy goes to
town, fucking me harder and making me whimper each time his pelvis
bottoms out. Uncle Bax’s pace is slow and sensual. The combination is
unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I wonder if they can feel each other.
How could they not?
“Oh, shit,” my daddy rasps. “Bunny, I’m coming...Daddy’s coming.”
He pounds into me and then goes taut. I feel a gush of wetness filling
me, so much that it starts to seep down my legs.
My pussy flutters. As soon as my daddy relaxes, Uncle Bax wraps his
arms around me and pulls me up to rest against his chest. He cups my
breasts and fucks my ass—like, really fucks my ass—and to my utter
surprise, it feels good. My daddy watches from below as Uncle Bax toys
with my nipples. I feel like I could come again, if only I could touch
myself.
“Do it,” my daddy says, as though he can read my mind. “Play with
your clit.”
I bite my lips together as that dirty feeling washes over me. Fighting
through eighteen years of conditioning, I touch the tip of my forefinger to
that little pleasure center, and moan. I add a second finger. Within seconds,
I’m strumming my clit like it’s an instrument capable of making beautiful
music inside me.
“Make yourself come, bunny,” says Daddy. “Squeeze my cock.”
I don’t understand how he can still be hard after he’s already come, but
there’s so much about sex that I don’t know. So much left for Daddy and
Uncle Bax to teach me. I draw slippery circles over my clit as my uncle
rams me and my daddy’s cock stuffs me good.
It’s not long at all before I sense that familiar buildup of pressure.
“That’s my dirty girl.” Daddy grips my thighs. “Don’t stop. Show
Daddy how much you love being stuffed by two cocks.”
 I do love it. So fucking much. My pussy clenches around my daddy’s
cock as I come. Even the muscles in my ass do their own tense-and-release
dance around my uncle’s cock. He slams into me, intensifying my orgasm
and shooting his own load deep inside my rectum. The roar that pours from
him is like that of a wild animal. He’s a predator, and so is my daddy, and
I’m the sweet little rabbit snared between them.
Happy to be torn apart and devoured.
“Jesus, bunny.” My uncle slips out, pressing his sticky cock between my
ass cheeks. “I’ve missed that so fucking much.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. My daddy shoots him a stern look. There’s
something they’re not telling me. I palm my daddy’s cheek. “What’s he
talking about, Daddy?”
My daddy sighs. “Your mom used to come hunting with us.”
“You mean...” My eyes widen. “The three of you used to do this all the
time?”
“Not all the time,” Uncle Bax says. “Just during hunting season. But she
stopped coming out after you were born.”
“Why?” I can’t imagine ever wanting to give this up. I’m already
looking forward to doing it again.
“She said being with both of us made her feel dirty,” Daddy says.
All of a sudden, it hits me, why my mom was so reluctant to let me go
hunting with Daddy and Uncle Bax. Why she hated it when they started
calling me bunny, why she tried to turn me into a prude. She was afraid of
this, afraid of me following in her footsteps. Afraid of feeding the animal
inside me that wanted to run wild.
My daddy strokes my cheek. “We can make our own family traditions
now.”
I smile. “I’d like that. Though I can’t promise I’ll get any better with a
gun.”
 Uncle Bax kisses my shoulder. “You know, your mom was almost as
good a hunter as you when she started.”
I have to laugh. “That’s hilarious.”
“My point is, she got better, and so will you.” He rests a hand on my
belly. “I just hope you won’t decide to leave us, when the time comes.”
He means when I get pregnant, which I almost inevitably will. I lay my
daddy’s hand over my uncle’s, then rest mine on top of theirs.
“Never,” I say. “You guys are my family. I belong here with you.”
 Tight Fit

I t never fails . As soon as my roommate leaves for the weekend, someone

comes knocking on my dorm-room door looking for her. She's just that
popular. But tonight, to my surprise, the person on the other side isn't
looking for her.
He's looking for me.
“Dad?” I pull my long sweatshirt down to cover more of my thighs.
“What are you doing here?”
My dad's gaze narrows. He does not look happy.
“Take one guess,” he says.
I honestly don't know. For him to have driven all the way to my college
campus in a thunder and lightning storm, it must be important.
“Can you tell me what this is?” He holds up his phone. On the screen is
my dad’s credit card e-statement, listing purchases made last weekend at a
local liquor store totaling two hundred dollars.
Oh. Shit.
“I don't know,” I lie.
“Like hell you don't.” He brushes past me into the room.
I close the door behind him. “Dad, I don't—”
“Do not start, Kaitlyn.” He whirls around to face me. “I know you made
these purchases. Things will go much better for you if you just admit it.”
 I sigh, my shoulders sagging. “Fine. Yes, I bought the alcohol. It was for
a party. I'm twenty-one. It's not like it's illegal.”
“Were all the people at the party twenty-one?”
I fold my arms. “I don’t know.”
“Great. Just great. If your RA had caught you, you could've been
suspended, or worse.”
“We didn't have the party here.”
“Where'd you have it?”
“Some guy's place, downtown.”
“Even better! If someone had driven home drunk and crashed into a van
full of nuns, you would've been held responsible. That's just great Kaitlyn.
Real smart choices.”
“I'm sorry. I only bought the alcohol because my roommate begged me
to.” I stare at the carpet. “I thought it might make her friends like me.”
“Why the hell do you care if your roommate’s friends like you?”
I shrug. “My two best friends are in Japan for the semester. I don’t
really have anyone to hang out with.” I flop down on my bed and pull my
knees to my chest. My dad’s eyes catch on something close to my feet, and
it’s only then that I remember I’m not wearing shorts under this sweatshirt,
only underwear.
My dad clears his throat. “I’m sorry you’re feeling lonely, Kaitlyn. But
you really screwed up this time. You’d better start thinking about how
you’re going to pay for all this.”
I rest my chin on my knees. I never wanted to disappoint my dad. He’s
my biggest fan. When no one else believes in me, he’s the one cheering in
my corner. I have to make this up to him. Somehow.
An idea tickles me where I least expect it: between my thighs. A couple
years ago, I came home early from a party and walked in on my dad
fucking some woman doggie-style against our dining room table. As if that
wasn’t shocking enough, what I couldn’t get over was how much she
looked like me. It was totally bizarre. And then, for a few seconds after he
noticed me standing there, it was almost like he was getting off on the fact
that I was watching. He started fucking her harder, making her huge tits
bounce, really giving it to her.
I couldn't believe how turned-on I was watching them, trying to imagine
how it would feel to be in her position, bent over the table with my dad’s
cock ramming me. I was a virgin at the time. Technically, I’m still a virgin
now, though I’ve given quite a few blow jobs since I started college.
Is it possible that my dad could’ve imagined the same thing? That it was
me on the table, my pussy he was fucking? Maybe that’s how I could make
this up to him—and restore his faith in me—by making both our fantasies
come true.
I peel the shade away from my window to watch the lightning, knowing
full well that sitting like this makes my sweatshirt ride up even higher.
“It's really coming down out there,” I say.
“Yeah.” He sighs. “I guess I'll head back. You probably have homework
to do.”
“Wait, Dad, you can't go out in that.” I spring up from the bed to block
his way to the door. “Why don't you stay here tonight?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “You want me to stay here? In your dorm?”
“Sure.” I smile. “You can sleep in my bed.”
A glint of something devious flashes in his eyes. “And where would you
sleep?”
“I don’t know. My roommate's bed, or on the floor.”
He looks at my roommate’s bed, piled high with books and laundry,
then at the floor. “Kaitlyn, I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”
“You’re not making me do anything. I want you to stay. If it’ll make
you feel better, we can share my bed.”
He glances at the bed, then back at me. “You’d willingly share your
twin bed with your old man?”
 “I’d share anything with you, Daddy.” I look up at his attractive face
through my lashes. “You were just telling me I should make smarter
choices. Is driving twenty miles in a rainstorm the smartest choice you can
make tonight?”
My dad’s Adam’s apple bobs. He laughs nervously. “All right. I guess
I’ll stay. Just until the storm passes.”
“Great! Let me make my bed for us.” I climb onto the bed and scurry to
the upper corner to fluff my pillows.
“That’s okay...sweetheart.”
I glance over my shoulder, still on all fours, catching my dad’s gaze
trained on my panties. He blinks, embarrassment painting his cheeks. I
wiggle my ass more than I have to while righting my blankets, then stand.
“There,” I say. “I have a few things I need to do before bed, but go
ahead and make yourself comfortable.”
I fish a tank top from my dresser and grab my toothbrush and
toothpaste, then turn around to find my dad spread out on the comforter
with his legs crossed at the ankles.
“You know you can sleep under the covers, Daddy.”
“No, that’s okay,” he says. “It feels weird to lay under blankets when
you have pants on.”
“So take them off. You don’t wear pants to sleep in your own bed, do
you?”
He eyes me warily. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”
I head to the communal bathroom feeling nervous and lightheaded. The
thought of sharing a bed with my dad wearing nothing but our underwear
makes me want to touch myself. Quickly, I change into my tank top and
brush my teeth, then tiptoe back to my dorm.
My dad is under the covers when I return, and the lust in his gaze when
he sees me in just a thin tank top and underwear sends a flush across my
whole body.
I switch off the light, then slip into bed beside him. He’s taken off his
pants as well as his shirt, and his body feels so warm against my skin. My
nipples harden. The fit is tight. I have to lie on my side next to him to make
it work.
“Am I crowding you?” I ask.
“Not at all.” He hooks his arm under my neck and around my shoulders
so I can snuggle closer. “God, I haven’t slept in a dorm in decades.”
“It took me a while to get used to sleeping in a strange bed when I left
for college. I didn’t sleep very well my first semester.”
“Neither did I,” he says. “The house felt empty without you in it.”
I rest my leg over his. “Do you still miss having me around?”
He squeezes my shoulders. “Every day.”
I press a kiss to his bare skin and pretend not to notice his breath
growing shallow, or the way his muscles tense when I run my leg up and
down over his thigh.
“Dad? Do you remember that night I came home early and saw you
with that woman?”
His whole body goes taut. “Yeah.”
I lay my hand on his stomach, his muscles twitching beneath my palm.
“I’ve been thinking about that night a lot.”
“What about it?”
“About how hard you were fucking her, even after you knew I was
there, watching. How horny I felt and how I needed to touch myself in my
room after.”
He swallows hard. “You did?”
“Mmhmm.” I smooth my hand across his chest, then down to the
waistband of his boxer briefs. “I made myself come so hard, imagining it
was me on the table. Me you were fucking.”
 My dad gasps as I lower my hand to his cock, which is already stiff and
straining at the fabric of his underwear. He slides his palm down my arm to
my wrist but doesn’t try and move it. I press my breasts into his side.
His cock twitches and I can’t help but giggle.
“Would you like me to show you what else I did with her?” he asks.
“Oh, yes, Daddy.”
He shifts onto his side, facing me, then slides his hand up my shirt. I
practically melt as he cups my full breasts, then pulls my shirt up so he can
lick and suck my nipples. He reaches down to squeeze my ass. I moan. His
mouth feels amazing.
“Daddy,” I whisper. “It feels so good.”
I reach into his underwear so I can stroke his cock with nothing between
us. He sucks my nipple harder. He runs his knuckles along the front of my
underwear and the slight pressure on my clit each time he passes over it
drives me wild. I writhe against him, amazed that it’s my own father
making me feel this passionate.
He shifts, bringing his head back to the pillow, then kisses me. I moan
around our tongues as he grips my ass and pulls me close, his thick, hard
cock prodding my pussy. I roll my hips, grinding on him, getting myself off
on his erection. He moans low in his throat, his teeth gently scraping my
jaw to the throbbing pulse point below my ear. I whine as my dad’s fingers
curve like claws on my ass.
He tugs his boxers down his legs and chucks them on the floor—a smart
move, considering they’re the only pair he has with him. I skim my fingers
along the underside of my dad’s bare cock, so hot and smooth I half expect
it to glow in the dark. The deep, guttural noise that rasps from his throat
makes my nipples pucker and my clit throb. I stroke him again, this time
with my palm. He moans, biting down on my shoulder, hard enough to
leave a mark without breaking the skin.
 I’ve known this man my whole life, but I feel as if I’m getting to meet
another side of him for the first time. I want to know him better.
Pushing my dad onto his back, I crawl down his body, the blankets
bunching at our feet.
His breath catches as he realizes what I’m about to do. “Oh, fuck,
Kaitlyn. Are you really...”
Grasping the base of his erection, I tongue the slit at the tip, tasting salt.
A sharp hiss whistles through my dad’s teeth and his fingers close in my
hair. I wrap my lips around his shaft.
“I’ve wanted you for so long, baby girl,” he says.
His cock pulses, leaking more precum that I swallow eagerly. I bob my
head, pumping and twisting my palm in sync with my mouth. I love the
sounds he makes and the way his body reacts to my touch.
His moans and sighs become more and more desperate. He pulls my
hair gently.
“Fuck. sweetheart. Stop.”
I let him slip from my mouth. “Why, Daddy?”
“If I come now, I’ll pass out after, and there’s so much I want to do to
you first.”
My inner muscles clench. I taste his erection one last time before
releasing him. He reaches for me and I crawl up the bed to straddle his
waist, the head of his cock nudging the cleft of my ass.
He smiles as he glides his hands up my thighs and onto my stomach.
Grasping my bunched-up tank top, he says, “You’re overdressed,” then
pulls up.
The arousal in my dad’s groan as he kneads my breasts has me rocking
my cunt against his tight abdominal muscles. He fingers my nipples,
making me bite my lips. I grind against him, my nails digging into his chest.
“Grab the headboard,” he says. “Lean over me.”
 I bend forward, grasping the wooden bar attached to the bed frame, and
position my full breasts within reach of his mouth. He lifts them, toys with
them, and teases them relentlessly before finally fitting his mouth over one
nipple, then the other, both at the same time. I close my eyes and try to
ignore my aching arms, as my dad’s tongue flutters over the hard peaks. He
has to be able to feel how wet my panties are against his stomach.
Grasping my forearms, he sits up and wraps his arms around me,
holding me upright as he kisses my chest and neck.
“Lie back, baby girl” he says, his lips on my throat. “I want you on my
tongue.”
God, yes, I want it, too. I scoot toward the bottom of the bed. My dad
kneels before me, between my legs. He kisses a path from my collar bone to
my belly, laving his tongue over the skin just above my panties.
“I’ve wanted to taste you since you opened the door,” he whispers.
He loops his fingers over the sides of my underwear. I bring my legs
together so he can pull them off, then spread my thighs again. He glides his
fingertips over my pussy lips, barely skimming my clit. I whimper, my nails
scratching at the fitted sheet for something to hold onto.
From this angle, my dad’s face is all shadow, but his breathing tells me
everything I need to know. He shuffles to the end of the bed, touching his
cheek to my inner thigh. I gasp as he strokes my pussy with his whole hand.
He holds me like that for a moment, warm and comforting, flooding my
pussy with heat.
“I love you, Kaitlyn,” he says. “I know I can be hard on you, but in the
end, I just want what’s best for you.” He wraps his forearms around my
upper thighs and plants a soft kiss over my clit, making me shiver.
“I love you, too, Daddy.”
He puts his mouth on me and even though I know we should be quiet, I
can’t help but moan. He licks and sucks my clit. My hips jerk. He holds me
firmly as he delves inside, flitting his tongue over the sensitive bud.
 Blood rushes through me, carried by the frantic throb of my heartbeat.
My first orgasm is like taking a breath after being trapped underwater for
too long. My muscles clench so tightly, I almost cramp up. When I finally
let go, I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry, so I do both.
“Goddamn, sweetheart,” my dad says, breathless. “That has to be my
favorite sound in the whole fucking world.” He dives back down, his
tongue undulating over my clit in a steady rhythm that brings me right back
to that maddening edge.
I come so hard my entire body spasms.
He sits up, his fingers gliding over my slick pussy lips.
“I need you, Kaitlyn,” he rasps. “Now.”
I swallow hard, my throat hoarse from panting and moaning. “Then take
me. From behind.”
He moves over me, pressing his front to my back as I roll onto my side.
Lying there with his heart hammering against my spine and his breath
wafting over my shoulder feels unmistakably like home. It doesn’t matter
that we aren’t in the house I grew up in, because home is wherever we fit
together. Like puzzle pieces. Even here in my claustrophobic dorm room,
on my skinny little bed, and me with so much to atone for.
My dad’s cock twitches and swells in the cleft of my ass, hard and hot. I
shift the slightest bit, wedging it further. His breath hisses by my ear. He
slides his leg between mine and draws my knees apart. I’m spread so wide,
so exposed, but as one hand curls up to squeeze my breast and the other
slides down my stomach and onto my pussy, I let myself melt against him.
Reaching behind to grasp his cock, I position it between my legs. My
dad glides the head along my wet slit a few times before he thrusts inside.
I moan, my hand clamping over his, which is still between my legs.
My muscles aren’t used to being stretched like this.
“God, you feel so good,” he breathes.
“Just…start slow.”
 He pauses. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve...never done this before.”
“Seriously?”
I shake my head. He kisses my neck as his cock swells inside me.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll make it feel good.”
My dad moves cautiously, giving my pussy time to accommodate his
girth. It doesn’t take long. Reaching lower, I splay my fingers so I can feel
him sliding in and out of me.
“I’m right here,” he whispers into my ear.
He gradually ups his pace as he begins tracing small circles over my
clit. His cock feels too perfect to be real, yet here it is, the head buffing a
strange, tender spot inside me with each thrust. His fingers stroke my clit,
coaxing, goading me closer.
“Oh, God, Daddy,” I whine. “I can’t take it... I can’t stop...”
My orgasm curls my fingers and toes. I bear down, forcing the pressure
away from my groin and out into the rest of my body where it slowly
dissipates, making my limbs twitch. I moan for what feels like minutes but
is probably more like seconds.
My dad grips my hip as he pounds into me. He’s no longer cautious,
caught up in the moment and the aftershocks of my orgasm. He pushes his
cock deep, gasping and shuddering. He comes, filling my pussy with so
much hot cum that some of it leaks out onto the bed while he’s still inside
me.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He kisses my shoulder. “That was amazing. It was
everything I thought it would be, and so much more.”
“How long have you wanted this?” I ask.
“Feels like forever.”
We stay like that for a while, panting and dewed with sweat, until his
cock softens and slips out of me.
“Um, Daddy?” I whisper.
 He caresses my hip. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Do I still have to pay you back?”
My dad chuckles, reaching between my thighs to slide two fingers
inside me.
“One more go around and I’d say we’re even.”
 Don’t Let Go

A manda pried the bag of trail mix open and fished around until she found
a piece of chocolate. I snickered, one hand on the steering wheel and the
other patting her knee.
“Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure trail mix is intended to be consumed on the
trail.”
“Daddy, you’re just worried I’m not going to leave you any candy.” She
touched my chin and slipped two mini-marshmallows into my mouth.
Trees flew past as we made our way along the winding road through the
White Mountains toward our favorite hiking spot. We hadn’t been back here
in years, not since Amanda’s mom passed away. Now that my little girl was
gearing up to leave for college, I thought it’d be a nice way for us to spend
some time together before she left.
“You’re sure you want to wear that?” I asked, referring to her pretty
yellow sundress.
“Yes. It puts me in a picnicking mood. Plus, I have shorts on
underneath.” She smoothed her dress and crossed her feet on the dash. At
least she was wearing hiking boots.
The morning had started off cool and overcast, but by eleven it was
nothing but blue skies and golden sun. We passed the paved lot at the
trailhead and turned right onto a dirt road. The last time we hiked here, I
discovered a pull-off with a well-worn path leading straight to the meadow.
I parked close to a gap in the towering evergreens that flanked the road.
We gathered our things, double-tied our boot laces, and started up the trail. I
directed us toward the sound of running water, taking care to point out roots
and slick patches so my baby girl wouldn’t slip. Amanda grasped my hand
as we passed a waterfall, a forty-foot drop into a wide pool that split off into
three different streams. Her mother had loved this spot.
We reached the meadow in just under an hour. I had Amanda pull up her
socks before we stepped out into the tall grass. Besides a pile of boulders
and a few solitary trees, the field was mostly pasture. We picked a spot
beneath a huge black willow, taking a minute to tamp down the turf and
wildflowers before laying the blanket.
Amanda removed her boots and socks while I unpacked the food. She
stretched out on the blanket. I scanned the field and noted a red poppy
dancing in the breeze close by. I fingered the wide, flat petals and then
picked it close to the root. Amanda closed her eyes and folded her hands
over her stomach. I wielded the flower like a wand, touching the petals to
her shoulder. She swatted at it. I touched it to her chin and she brushed it
off. I tickled her nose with it and she opened her eyes.
“Oh.” She laughed. “That’s pretty.”
“You’re pretty, sweetheart.” I skimmed the flower down her arm and
over her fingers. “I’m proud of you, you know.”
“For what?”
“Graduating with honors. Getting into a great school.” I sighed. “But I
am going to miss you when you move out.”
Her expression turned pensive. “I’m going to miss you, too, Daddy.”
We ate lunch. I’d brought enough food to feed an army, including
Amanda’s favorite brownies from a local bakery near our house.
 “Well, I’m stuffed.” She reached beneath her dress and unbuttoned her
shorts, then pulled them off and set them by her shoes. She picked another
poppy, which she skimmed over her opposite palm. “Hey, Daddy?”
“Yes, baby girl?”
“You won’t forget me when I’m gone, will you?”
“Of course, not, sweetheart.” I couldn’t believe she’d ask such a thing.
“Even if you get a girlfriend?”
“You’re my daughter, Amanda.” I plucked the poppy from her fingers,
then glided the petals down her arm. “No one could ever take your place.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I tickled her feet with the petals, making her laugh. Then I
drew the poppy over her calf, stopping at her knee.
“Keep going,” she whispered.
I glided the poppy up toward the hem of her dress, then back down and
up the other leg. When I reached her dress again, she sighed and splayed
her knees. “Higher.”
The sight of her creamy inner thigh made my stomach flip and my dick
twitch. It had been a long time since I’d been with a woman. I prayed my
daughter wouldn’t notice how tight my shorts were getting. Amanda was
gorgeous, no doubt about it. Full lips and dark eyes, and a body most girls
would kill for. But she was my kid. I had no business getting hard over my
own flesh and blood.
I was about to toss the flower and try to calm myself down when she
grasped my wrist.
“Higher, Daddy.” She pulled her dress up, exposing her white panties
that did nothing to conceal her cute little pussy lips.
My cock jumped.
“You sure?” I asked.
She nodded. I dipped the flower between her legs, tickling her inner
thigh all the way up to her panties. She sighed and arched her back.
 “More, Daddy. I want to feel it on my skin.”
“Sweetheart...” The lust in my voice caught me off guard. I should not
be doing this with my own daughter. But she was asking for it, in the most
literal sense, and I’d never been very good at denying her.
Hooking my finger into the crotch of her panties, I pulled the fabric
aside. Her pussy lips were smooth, like she’d just had them waxed. My
mouth watered. I swept he flower across her slit, tickling her lips and
making her hips jerk. She sucked her bottom lip.
“Take them off, Daddy.”
Planting her feet on the blanket, she raised her ass so I could slide her
panties off. Then she spread her legs wide, parting her pussy lips and
revealing the soft pink flesh between.
My cock throbbed. “Baby, we shouldn’t. Someone might see.”
“So? Let them.”
Amanda sat up, then swung her leg across my thighs and pushed me
onto my back. I felt the heat of her pussy through my shorts. She began to
rock. My hands grasped her hips as my cock twitched beneath her. She slid
her fingers under my shirt and scraped her nails down my stomach. The
pain seeped into my muscles and sent twinges of pleasure straight to my
groin. I reached for her breasts, fondling her nipples through the fabric of
her sundress.
She looked so goddamn beautiful up there. The tree we were sitting
under could’ve gone up in flames and I’d still be fixated on the weight of
my daughter’s breasts in my hands and her pussy riding my cock. I drew the
straps down over her shoulders, pulling the front of her dress down with
them.
A wide smile stretched across her face. I licked my lips.
“My god, you have incredible tits, baby girl.” I cradled her breasts, the
hard tips tickling my palms. Amanda laughed and ground herself firmly
against me.
 I was well on my way to coming in my shorts like a horny teenager.
Amanda leaned down to kiss me. I slid my tongue into her mouth and
fluttered my fingertips across her nipples. She whimpered, trailing kisses
down my jaw and onto my neck. I pinched her nipples. She squealed and bit
down hard on my shoulder, but the pain only ratcheted up my pleasure. I
groaned, lifting my pelvis, and her, off the ground for an instant.
She made a soft, throaty noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.
“I knew you’d like that.”
“Like what?”
“The biting. You’ve always seemed a little bit feral to me.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. In the way you inhabit your body. Cool and confident.
Like you know your own strength.” She licked my earlobe. “You seem like
the kind of man who enjoys the chase.”
“Guess you know me better than I thought.” I squeezed her tits, and she
humped me a few more times, making my cock throb.
“I bet if I took off right now, you’d have no trouble catching me.”
Amanda rose from the blanket, slipped her feet into her boots and then
planted one on either side of my hips. She unhooked her bra and wriggled
her arms free, then dropped it onto the blanket. She pulled her dress off
overhead and let it fall.
“Give me a thirty second head start,” she said.
She leapt into the tall grass, bounding across the field with more
enthusiasm than grace. I waited exactly twenty-three seconds before I
jumped to my feet and ran after her.
The wind carried her laughter straight to my ears. She moved in curves
and zig-zags as I sprinted in a straight line, my cock pushing at my shorts
with every stride. Amanda glanced over her shoulder and then changed
direction, heading toward the big pile of rocks.
 “Safety.” She panted as she heaved herself up onto the first layer of
boulders.
I halted at the base of the heap, barely winded. “Says who?”
“Says me.”
Amanda reached the top and spun to face me, her chest heaving. She
stretched her arms, turning her gorgeous face and body toward the sky. I
swallowed hard, incapable of taking my eyes off her for longer than it took
to blink.
My chest tightened like a fist around my heart. Her skin glowed
wherever the light kissed it, which was everywhere. There was no limit to
the love I felt for this bold, brazen creature I had created.
The wind flounced Amanda’s hair around her neck and shoulders. She
cupped her breast and ran a hand down her belly to rub her pussy.
A low sound rumbled in my throat. Christ, my girl was stunning. My
palms pricked like they were charged with static electricity.
I needed to touch her.
I started climbing.
“Hey, I said ‘safety.’” Amanda shot me a playful scowl and dropped
onto a boulder on the opposite side. I scaled the pile. Amanda squealed as
her feet hit the ground. She ran toward a patch of white and yellow flowers
and then dropped to her knees.
When I caught up to her, she was already on her back with her belly and
inner thighs turned skyward in surrender.
She picked a yellow flower and tucked the stem behind her ear,
squinting against the afternoon sun. “How do I look?”
“You look…” Something small and brown skittered up her forearm as I
rattled off a mental list of appropriate responses: perfect, magnificent, sexy
as hell. “Like you need a tick check, sweetheart.”
Amanda leapt to her feet and started slapping random body parts.
“Not here.” I chuckled. “Come on.”
 I took her hand and led her back to the blanket.
“Don’t worry,” I said, setting our bags aside. “Daddy will make sure
you don’t bring home any souvenirs.”
I gave Amanda’s front body a once-over and then turned her to face the
tree. I placed her hands flat on the bark and then ran my fingertips up her
arms, along her neck, and then over her scalp. I parted her hair. I smoothed
my palms down her back, over her perfect ass and legs, all the way to the
tops of her knee socks.
“You’re good,” I said. “No stowaways.”
Amanda dropped her shoulders with a sigh. I knelt behind her and
kissed the back of her knee. She whimpered and my cock twitched at the
sound. I slid my hands up her legs and gently raked my fingers across her
pussy lips; she was already dripping. She swayed, chasing my touch. I
wanted to tease her until her knees quaked, but I was impatient. I had to
taste her. Now.
“Turn around,” I said, and she did.
I cupped her ass with both hands and slid my tongue along the lips of
her pussy from bottom to top. She shuddered and tangled her hands in my
hair. The scent of her filled my head, drowning out any lingering concerns
about being caught having sex with my daughter. I scraped my fingernails
along her outer thighs as I wedged my tongue between her lips.
Amanda tilted her pelvis toward me and spread her feet farther apart. I
kissed and tongued her clit ’til she trembled, then sucked greedily. I gripped
her ass, pressing her tight against my mouth. I learned Amanda’s body,
inside and out, including all of the moves that would inevitably bring her to
the ground.
Her legs crumpled as she came, moaning and bucking her pussy,
humping my mouth.
After, she knelt on the blanket, as my fingers picked up where my
mouth had left off. She kissed me and then raised my hand to her mouth to
taste my fingers.
I couldn’t believe I’d waited so long to do this with her.
“Look.” She gestured to the field.
Two hikers with packs and walking sticks strode along the edge of the
meadow, maybe fifty yards away. Close enough to tell they were women,
but far enough that I couldn’t discern whether or not they’d seen us.
Amanda tugged at my shorts. I glanced down to find her loosening my
belt and unzipping my fly.
“Wait, sweetheart, they might see—” I choked down a groan as she
pulled my cock out in to the open, and then gasped when she wrapped her
lips around the head. I leaned back, hoping the tall grass would be enough
to camouflage us.
Amanda slid her palm along my shaft as she sucked, tonguing the
underside. I gathered her hair in my fist and stroked her sun-warmed
shoulders and back. Those hikers could’ve marched right up and asked us
our names for all I cared. My daughter’s mouth was on me. Nothing else
mattered.
They trekked farther and then disappeared into the woods. Amanda
slapped the tip of my cock against her flattened tongue. I swore, letting my
head fall back as she took me deep, twisting her palm with each pass. I was
getting close.
She let go of my cock and tugged at my shorts.
“I need you inside me, Daddy.”
She didn’t have to ask twice.
I shed my shirt as she yanked my shorts off and then stretched across
me. My cock throbbed, hot against her stomach. I slid my hands down her
back and over her ass. There was no mistaking the love in her amber eyes.
She sat up and moved to take me inside her.
“Wait.” I put my hand on hers. “If someone else comes by, I’d rather
they see me first.”
 She nodded and spread out on the blanket, facedown. I took a moment
to worship her ass.
“You’re sure you want me to do this, baby girl?” I asked.
Amanda folded her arms to make a pillow for her head. “Yes, Daddy.”
I dipped my hand between her thighs. She was beyond ready.
My little girl had made me promise I wouldn’t forget her when she was
gone. Here was my chance to give her a pounding she wouldn’t forget.
Kneeling between her legs, I positioned my cock at her lips and then
slid inside her. A growl forced its way out of my throat as her muscles
hugged me. I leaned on my elbows to avoid crushing her while enjoying the
skin-on-skin contact—her back to my chest, her ass to my crotch, my quads
pressed against her inner thighs.
There was no room for me to reach around and stroke her clitoris, but
she humped the blanket with each thrust. I kissed and bit her shoulders as I
drove into her, the head of my cock massaging the front wall of her pussy.
Being inside my daughter was like shutting out the world. It didn’t
matter if what we were doing was illegal or depraved. It felt good to us.
That was all that mattered.
“Don’t stop,” she cried. “Don’t stop, Daddy. I’m so close.”
She uncrossed her arms and lowered her forehead to the blanket. Her
hands groped for mine. She whimpered and bucked against the ground as
she came again, writhing and panting.
I held her in place with just enough of my weight to keep us connected.
The pressure of her pussy walls contracting around me felt incredible. I had
to thrust harder and deeper just to stay inside her. I fucked my daughter
until she came again, ripping the orgasm from her, almost against her will. I
wanted to ruin her for every young prick to follow.
No one could ever love her or fuck her better than her old man. She’d
be back. Come Thanksgiving, she’d be begging me to take her sweet pussy
again.
 My cock went hard as a fucking rock. I pulled us both to our knees and
buried my cock inside her, shooting cum into my little girl’s tight, pink
pussy. It dripped from her as I pulled out, pooling on the blanket. She
reached between her legs to feel the wetness with her own fingers.
“There’s so much,” she said. “How long’s it been since you had sex?”
“Too long.” I lay down on the blanket beside her to catch my breath.
“You should’ve told me.” She smiled. “I could’ve been taking care of
you this whole time.”
I kissed her sweet mouth.
We lay there, indecent and exhausted, a lot longer than we probably
should have. As the sun reached its zenith, the heat turned oppressive. We
packed our things and hiked back through the woods to the car.
Amanda fiddled with the radio until she found a song she liked. “No
matter where I am or what I’m doing, whenever I hear this song, I’m going
to remember what we did this afternoon.”
I rested my hand on her knee. “You promise?”
She laced her fingers with mine. “Promise.”
 Anything For You

T he sound of glass shattering jolts me awake. I sit up in bed, hugging the

covers to my chest, wishing I’d worn my flannel nightshirt instead of my
lacy pink bralette.
“Daddy?” I call out, since he’s the only other person in the house.
Mom’s away at a conference, and my twin brother is off partying in New
York with friends—a belated eighteenth birthday present from our parents.
When my dad doesn’t respond, I slink out of bed and put on my short silk
robe.
Tiptoeing out to the hallway, I listen for any further sounds. I hear
footsteps crunching glass.
“Daddy, is that you?”
I pad downstairs into the darkened foyer, then make my way through the
empty kitchen. Nothing out of place here. I step into the family room and
freeze.
There’s glass all over the hardwood floor, a jagged hole in the square
next to the handle on one of the French doors leading out to the deck.
The doors are open.
“Dad—”
A gloved hand clamps over my mouth as someone grabs me from
behind.
 “Don’t fucking move,” a man’s voice rasps directly into my ear.
My heart hammers in my chest. I hear footsteps coming from the front
room. My father’s? I struggle against the man holding me. With a firm bash
of my heel against his toes, I pivot, dislodging his hand.
“Daddy! There’s a man...”
Another stranger wanders into the family room, a look of smug
satisfaction on his pock-marked face. He grins. “Sorry, I ain’t your daddy,
sweetheart. But depending on what you’ve got hidden under that pretty
little robe, I could be.”
My stomach curdles. The first man grabs me by the hair. I scream. He
slaps me, then clasps a hand around my jaw.
“Try that shit again, and next time, it’ll be my fist.” His breath is sour,
his eyes dark as charcoal. “Now, let’s go wake up dear old Dad.”
They march me up the stairs, one on each side of me. My knees shake
with every step. I stumble on the landing and the man with the acne scars
yanks me up by the waist. His gaze falls to my robe, the top splaying open.
He leers, and my skin crawls.
“This it?” the other man asks, pointing to the master bedroom door.
I nod.
He bursts through the door and immediately switches on the light. My
dad, startled, sits up in bed and rubs his eyes.
“What the—” Fear and anger wash across my dad’s handsome face as
he takes in the situation. “Who the hell are you?”
“Figures you’d forget our faces,” the intruder who grabbed me first
says. “But I guess that’s to be expected when you’re the bossman. No need
to keep track of the little people who keep your billion-dollar business
afloat while you drink Dom Perignon on your fancy yacht.”
My dad’s gaze is cold as ice. I can tell he’s fighting hard to stay calm.
“Okay, so you work for me, then.”
“Correction, used to work for you. Until the last big layoff.”
 “Is that what this is about? You break into my house and assault my kid
because you think I owe you money?”
The guy with the acne scars grasps the end of the tie around my waist
and pulls. My robe falls open, placing my lace bralette and matching
panties on display. “I think you owe us more than that.”
My dad throws the covers back and plants his feet on the floor. The first
man draws a gun from his jacket. I scream. My dad stops in his tracks,
hands raised.
“Now, just hold on.” My dad’s bare chest expands and contracts with
each shallow breath. “This doesn’t involve Cara. Just let her go, she’ll go
back to her room and we can talk business.”
“That would be simpler, wouldn’t it?” The man presses the barrel of the
gun to my pulse point, then glides it down my neck and into one of my
bralette cups, teasing back the fabric. My nipple hardens against the cold
gun. “But something tells me you’ll be a lot more generous if baby girl
sticks around.”
My dad’s lip curls with disgust. “Lay a finger on my daughter and you
won’t live to enjoy my generosity.”
The guy with the acne scars chuckles. “I’d like to lay a lot more than a
finger on her, bossman.” He draws a fingertip down my chest to pull the
other side of my bralette back, exposing me completely. I shiver as tears fill
my eyes. “Your girl’s got a nice rack. So round and perky.”
He pinches my nipple. I flinch.
“That’s enough!” My dad takes a step toward me. The man with the gun
points the weapon at my head. My dad stops.
“Don’t worry, bossman. You’ll get your turn.”
The other man rips my robe from my shoulders, then tears my bralette
down the middle so he can remove that, too. He yanks my panties down,
then pushes me to my knees on the carpet. I wrap my arms around myself,
unable to breathe or think straight.
 “Look, I’ll give you whatever you want,” my dad barks. “Just leave my
daughter out of this.”
“Actually,” the man with the gun says. “What we want very much is to
get her into this. Or, more precisely, to get you into her.”
I gasp.
My dad’s face twists in confusion. “What are you saying?”
The man with the acne scars pulls out his phone. “At first, we thought
we’d show up, smack your girl around a bit, then convince you to pay up on
the condition that we wouldn’t have a go at her. But then we go to thinking,
why settle for a one-time payout?”
“Yeah,” the other guy says. “We figured, hey, why don’t we get the
bossman to do it for us? Make him fuck his girl, film it, then get him to
agree to an outrageous payment schedule in exchange for not plastering his
daughter’s first time with Daddy all over the fucking Internet.”
Shock tints my dad’s cheeks. I sit back against the bed, hugging my
knees to my chest. This whole thing feels like a bad dream. It would be
horrific enough if these guys wanted to rape me, but to make my father do it
for them? It’s fucking sick.
“No.” My dad shakes his head. “I won’t do it.”
The man with the gun grabs me by the hair and maneuvers me onto my
knees in front of his partner. “Then, we’ll just have to film your girl getting
tag-teamed instead. We can send the video to all her friends, her teachers.”
He pats my head. “How’s that for a graduation present, sweetheart?”
I cringe as the guy with the acne scars rubs his hand over the bulge in
his pants, inches from my face. Tears pour down my cheeks. I don’t want
this—and I especially don’t want the memory of my first time to involve
this creep’s dick anywhere near me. He grabs the back of my head and
presses my nose against his jeans.
Without thinking, I rear back and punch him in the balls.
 “You little bitch!” He coughs, then knocks me onto the carpet with a
swift backhand.
My cheek throbs.
“Hey!” my dad shouts. The gun swings back in his direction. I hadn’t
thought it possible for my father to look more enraged, but the anger in his
eyes is like a physical presence in the room. “I said that’s enough.”
“Your little princess is a brat.” The one I punched drops down to
straddle me, pinning my arms to my sides. He raises his fist. “Let’s see how
she likes a taste of her own medicine.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and wait for the blow.
The other guy whistles sharply. The one pinning me to the floor stands
up.
“The video won’t be worth shit if she’s unrecognizable, dumbass,” the
armed one mutters. “Put her on her knees. Maybe she’ll be more agreeable
now that she’s seen the alternative.”
The one I punched hauls me up, copping a feel of my breasts in the
process. The man with the acne scars aims the camera phone at my face.
My cheek throbs where he hit me. The gravity of the situation weighs me
down like a leaden blanket.
These men are going hurt me. Really, really hurt me. There’s nothing I
can do to stop them.
Or, maybe, there is.
What they want is to make a video of my father fucking me, something
they can use as blackmail. Of course, my dad said no, because under normal
circumstances, that would be disgusting. But normal flew out the window
fifteen minutes ago. If this has to happen, then I’d rather it be my daddy
who does it. At least then I know he’ll be gentle.
“Dad,” I croak, my voice thick from crying. “I’ll do it.”
He tilts his head. “What’s that, sweetheart?”
“What they asked for. I’ll do it. But only with you.”
 “No, baby.” He scrubs a hand down his anxiety ridden face. “I can’t let
you do that.”
“Please, Daddy!” I’m practically sobbing. “If this has to be my first
time, I want it to be with you, not them.”
My dad sighs heavily, then says, “Okay, sweetheart. If that’s what you
want to do, then we’ll do it.”
He sits on the bed and gestures for me to come closer. I crawl over to
him. He cradles my jaw and strokes my sore cheekbone.
“It’s just you and me now, Cara. Don’t even think about them.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
He pulls his pajama pants off, then scoots to the edge of the bed. I kneel
between his legs. His cock is already semi hard, probably from all the
adrenaline. I wet my lips. I’ve only ever given one hand job, and that was a
while ago.
“I don’t know where to start,” I whisper.
“Just lick it, baby girl.”
Slowly, I draw my tongue over the head. He tastes like sea salt. A deep
sigh racks his chest as I wrap my hand around the shaft so I can reach the
underside. His dick pulses in my palm as it grows.
He caresses my cheek. “Now put it in your mouth.”
Still unsure, I take the head between my lips and gently suck. My dad
lays a hand on the top of my head, but doesn’t push. I take a bit more of his
cock with each forward bob. He doesn’t taste bad. To be honest, I’m kind of
amazed by his reactions. How something so simple as me sucking his cock
can make his eyes roll back inside his head.
Acne Scars moves around us, filming us from every angle. I close my
eyes and try and focus on the man in front of me. My dad’s cock is so thick
and hard that I gag a few times when trying to take all of it.
“You’re doing so well,” he says. “That’s my good girl.”
 When he starts to fuck my face, I try and pull back, but he won’t let me.
He’s too lost in the moment.
“Just another minute, baby girl,” he rasps. “Just one more second.”
I gag and whimper as he uses my mouth. He groans, his hand tightening
in my hair. Hot, thick cum gushes into my mouth and down my throat.
I swallow. I’ll suffocate if I don’t.
Pressing my hands to my dad’s thighs, I push myself off so I can cough.
My dad falls back onto the mattress panting, his cock going soft.
“All right,” he says. “You got your fucking video. Now let her go.”
The man with the gun laughs. “No way, bossman. We’re just getting
started. Put her on the bed.”
The other guy lifts me by the waist and tosses me onto the mattress
beside my father.
“Now,” the first man says. “Show how much you love her.”
My dad glances at his cock. “I’m going to need a minute.”
“Not with your dick, asshole.” He shakes his head. “So selfish.”
I hug my legs to try and hide behind them. My dad looks at me with
guilt in his eyes, tinged with something I can’t quite put my finger on.
He touches my calf. “Lay down, sweetheart. Spread your legs.”
I lay back and let my knees fall to the sides. My dad climbs over me so
he can place a soft kiss on my lips. I kiss him back, wanting him to know
how grateful I am. This could be a whole lot worse, I’m sure. He cups my
breast, and I gasp. My nipple hardens. He teases my nipple, then eases
down my body so he can take the stiff tip into his mouth. My eyes close. It
feels so much better than it should.
My dad slides even further down the bed, until his face is even with my
pussy. Using two fingers, he spreads my lips. I shiver as his breath gusts
over my clit.
The guy with the camera rests his knee on the edge of the bed so he can
get a close-up shot of my father starting to lick me. I moan. My dad’s
tongue is slow and gentle. It’s almost like he’s taking his time, savoring the
moment. That can’t be right. Still, even I can’t stop my hips from rising to
meet his face.
He wraps his arms around my thighs as he licks me. I tremble as the
pressure builds. His tongue swirls like a whirlpool around that sweet spot,
making my pussy clench tight.
As impossible as the circumstances may be, I can feel an orgasm
coming just around the corner. Grabbing fistfuls of the sheets, I watch my
dad devour me, not caring for the moment about the guy with the camera or
the lens trained on my face. My dad slides a finger inside me, where no
other person has ever gone. He adds a second finger, and the feeling of
being penetrated is what does it.
I cry out. My pussy tightens around his fingers as my clit throbs.
Pleasure hits me like a Mack Truck as I come. My legs won’t stop shaking.
“Beautiful,” the guy with the camera says.
My dad wipes his mouth. “Are we finished?”
“Not quite.” The man with the gun approaches. “Time to pop that
cherry.”
“Hasn’t she been through enough?” my dad barks.
“It’s okay, Daddy.” I cup his face in my hands. “I trust you.”
His mouth twitches, like he’s fighting to maintain his expression. I can’t
imagine how difficult this must be for him. He moves up my body. His cock
is hard again. I reach for it, but the man with the gun waves me off.
“Get up, princess,” he says. “None of this boring missionary shit.”
I rise on trembling limbs and turn over, lifting my ass into the air.
“Yeah. That’s better.”
My heart pounds; I can feel the beats in the tips of my fingers and toes.
My dad nudges my legs apart, then positions himself behind me.
“Are you ready, Cara?”
I’m not, but I nod anyway.
 “This is going to hurt a little,” he says. “Just try to breathe through it.”
I feel the head of his cock against my pussy lips, then the pain of being
stretched as he thrusts into me. I whine and try to keep breathing, like he
said, but it hurts so much. He goes slow, pushing a little at a time until he’s
all the way inside.
“Fucking Christ,” he groans.
His hands grasp my hips as he starts to move. My fingers grapple for the
sheet as I fight to stay upright. The pain is barely an echo, and in its place is
a welcome ache unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Acne Scars angles the phone beneath me so he can film my dad’s cock
sliding in and out from between my legs. I’ve been trying so hard to forget
why we were doing this that seeing him again makes me shudder. Pressing
my face to my dad’s pillow, I turn my focus to the sensation of his cock
filling me, and the sound of his heavy breathing.
His grip on my hips tightens as he fucks me hard. I moan like a siren. I
can’t believe how good it feels to have my dad’s cock pounding me,
especially considering the way it all came about. But regardless of the
reason behind it, I can’t deny that it feels amazing. If one of the men were
to suddenly call out, Cut, a part of me—specifically the part between my
legs—would be very disappointed.
“You feel so good, Cara,” my dad says. “Does it feel good to you?”
“Yeah. It feels good, Daddy. It feels really good.”
My dad grasps my shoulders with both hands, using them for leverage
so he can ram me. Hard. I cry out with each piercing thrust, my pussy
aching and desperate to come. My muscles tighten as another orgasm slices
through me, sharp and sudden.
“Fuck,” my dad grunts; he must be able to feel it. He fucks me with
short, quick jabs until his cock swells and then he shoves deep, smacking
my ass with every thrust and spilling his cum inside me.
 “Damn, that’s good stuff,” Acne Scars says. “Outta the way, bossman.
This is the money shot.”
My dad pulls out. The guy brings the camera close to my pussy.
“Mmm, look at that creampie.”
Gazing through the tunnel created by my limbs and my front body, I
watch my dad’s cum drip out of me and onto the bed. The cameraman hums
with pleasure. I’m too exhausted to cringe.
“Well,” the guy with the gun says. “Thanks for the show, sweetheart.
Bossman, we’ll be in touch.”
The two men leave the room, the gun trained on my father and me just
in case we try to get up and follow. But we don’t. We’re both too tired and
stunned by what’s just happened.
“Are you okay, Cara?”
I swallow. “I don’t know.”
My dad pulls me close and rocks me like a baby. “I’m so sorry,
sweetheart.”
“It’s okay,” I say—a reflexive response. Yet, it feels accurate. Thanks to
my dad agreeing to pop my cherry instead of those awful men, I am okay.
And if I’m being honest, all things considered, it wasn’t as bad as it
could’ve been.
In fact, it was surprisingly hot.
I smile up at him, not sure how to go about saying what I’m thinking, so
I decide to just spit it out. “Daddy?”
“Yes, baby girl?”
“Could...can we do that again?”

Daddy and I fuck twice the next morning. No cameras this time, no
blackmail. We do it because it’s what we want to do, because it feels good.
 Over the next week, I hound him about whether he’s heard from the
blackmailers. He tells me not to worry, that he’ll take care of it. But I’m so
scared of what will happen if that video ever goes public. Daddy tells me
not to borrow trouble.
We still fuck like rabbits, sneaking around behind Mom’s back,
avoiding my brother’s questions about the bruise on my face.
I show up at my dad’s office one day wearing a short, skimpy sundress
and no panties. He’s in a meeting when I get there, so I go into his office to
wait. As I plop down in his big leather chair, trying to decide how I want
him to see me when he first walks in, I hear a buzzing sound coming from
his bottom desk drawer.
Inside the drawer, I find a smartphone that I don’t recognize. I check the
notifications, one unread text within a single conversation.
The first text from Unknown reads: We agreed. 20 Gs apiece.
The response: That was before your jackass partner backhanded her and
grabbed her tits.
Unknown: So take it out of his cut. I stuck to the script.
Reply: You should’ve trained your dog better. 10 Grand. Take it or leave
it.
Unknown: Fine.
My stomach drops. I close out of the conversation and thumb over to
the gallery app. There’s only one video file.
I play it.
“Please, Daddy!” my tear-stained self from three weeks ago begs. “If
this has to be my first time, I’d rather it to be with you, not them.”
There’s an audible sigh, and then my dad says, “Okay, sweetheart. If
that’s what you want to do, then we’ll do it.”
 Make You Mine

“I want you to meet her ,” Daddy says.

I purse my lips and glare at the textbooks strewn across my desk.
“Why?”
“Because I value your opinion.” He sighs and it sounds like tissue paper
crinkling through the phone. “Kira, I like her. I think this could get serious.”
“What, like the last one?” My daddy’s a good-looking man. He’s never
had trouble finding women to spend the night, but ever since I went away to
college, it’s like he’s rediscovered his dick. Every month, there’s a new
girlfriend to meet. Some big-breasted hopeful who wants to hear all about
my life, only to be replaced a few weeks later by another eager bimbo.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
“Kira, baby, please. She’s looking forward to meeting you.” He pauses.
“We can go to Zefferelli’s.”
He knows Italian food is my kryptonite. I switch the phone to my other
hand. “Fine. But I’m getting my own order of garlic knots.”
“Deal.” I can hear the smile in his voice, and it makes me smile, too,
even though I'm still annoyed. “Meet us there at seven.”
As soon as I get back from my last Friday class, I realize I’ve forgotten
to do laundry. My only clean options are gym shorts or a tight pink party
dress that gives me cleavage for days and barely covers my ass. Zefferelli’s
isn’t super fancy, but I’d look stupid if I showed up in shorts and a sports
bra, so I squeeze into the dress and pray I won’t have to bend over.
I arrive at the restaurant ten minutes late. Daddy and his new girlfriend
are already seated. She’s blond, like me. For some reason I’d been picturing
her as a redhead. As I approach the table, Daddy stands up. He’s wearing
the blue shirt I gave him for Christmas, which brings out the blue in his
eyes—eyes that zero in on my cleavage. His gaze narrows; it’s almost like
he doesn’t recognize me.
My face heats up the way it always does when I realize a guy is ogling
me. My stomach flutters. He’s checking me out like some stranger in a bar.
It’s got to be a mistake. Bad wiring, misfired synapses. My daddy would
never think of me that way. Would he?
He blinks rapidly, like shaking off a trance. “Kira, sweetie,” Daddy
says. “I’d like you to meet Rochelle.”
I force my mouth to smile and hold out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Rochelle’s skin is greasy, like she’s slathered on too much lotion. She
has one of those smiles that shows off the top and bottom rows of her teeth.
“Yes, nice to meet you, too, Kira. I’ve heard so much about you. You’re
a lucky girl. Your father is a wonderful man.” She says this like I don’t
already know.
I take the seat across from Daddy. He asks about my classes, brags
about my grades, while Rochelle oohs and ahs and sips her Riesling. We
order food and drinks. When I’m out with friends, I can usually get
someone to buy me liquor, but since I’m only eighteen, I have to settle for
Diet Coke.
I’m only half listening when Rochelle says, “I’m sure Kira’s going to
miss having you just around the corner.”
I glance up from my side salad. “Say what?”
“You haven’t heard? Your father’s selling his house and moving upstate,
closer to me.”
 Rochelle strokes my daddy’s chin. He shoots me a guilty smile.
“This isn’t how I wanted to break it to you, sweetie.”
“You want to sell the house?” I ask, incredulous. “Our house? The one
you and Mom lived in?” My mom died a few years after I was born. I
barely remember her, and what I do recall is hazy and fragmented, like bad
reception.
“We’re just talking about it at this point,” he says. “Nothing’s been
decided.”
“Come now, David,” Rochelle purrs. “Kira knows she can’t cling to you
forever.”
The hell I do. Who does this bitch think she is? She must be great in
bed; that’s all I can think of, because the only woman my daddy loves more
than the memory of my mother is me. He would never move away from me
on a whim.
I look my daddy square in the face. “How could you even think about
selling the house without talking to me?”
“We will talk. Later. Okay?”
“Whatever.” I stab a crouton.
Rochelle winks at Daddy over the rim of her wine glass. I hate her. I
hate her so much I could stick her with my fork. I’m so sick of these dinners
and these ridiculous women, of their fake tans and even faker smiles. The
only woman Daddy needs in his life is the seated across from him. The one
who knows him better than he knows himself. Rochelle’s got nothing on
me, nothing except the one thing I can’t give him.
Sex.
And who says I can’t give him sex?
I’m a virgin in every sense of the word, but I’m a fast learner. I bet I
could learn to be good in bed if I set my mind—and other body parts—to it.
My daddy’s an attractive man. Tall and strong and athletic. With big hands
and feet and a jaw that could cut glass. Growing up, all of my girlfriends
wanted to fuck him, and though I pretended to find it gross, I couldn’t
blame them. More than once, I had barged into his room in the hopes that I
might catch him changing or jerking off.
I love my daddy. I love him more than anyone else in the world, and I’ll
be damned if I’m going to let this smug bitch take him away from me.
Casually, I pull my dress down just a tad so that my tits look like they’re
about to pop out. Then I rest my head on my hand and pretend to be
interested in whatever Rochelle is saying about her sister’s poodle.
“Daddy?” I let my eyelids droop. “I don’t feel so good. Do you think I
could come home tonight?”
“Of course, sweetheart.” He strokes my face, checking to see if I have a
fever.
Rochelle clears her throat. “But David, we’re supposed to go to my
place this weekend, remember?”
I give him my best sad-puppy eyes. He’s been missing me; I can tell by
the lilt in his voice whenever he calls to check up on me at school. I was his
whole world growing up, and I can’t say I don’t miss the days of pony rides
and falling asleep to kids’ movies on the couch. If I can get us back to that
place, where I was his little girl and he was the center of my universe,
maybe I can get him to let his guard down.
“Please, Daddy.” I take a chance and rest my hand on his knee under the
table. “Take me home.”
He eyes betray the slightest hint of the look he gave me when I first
walked in. I wet my lips and push my breasts together—not enough to be
obvious, but enough to draw his gaze.
“We can go to your place tomorrow, Rochelle,” he says. “Tonight, I’d
like to stay home with Kira.”
To my disappointment, Rochelle agrees to spend the night at our house.
As soon as we get inside, I run upstairs and change into my cutest
pajamas. Little blue shorts and a thin white tank top that does nothing to
hide my rosy nipples. Back downstairs, I walk in on Rochelle rubbing my
daddy through his slacks in the kitchen. He guides her hand away as soon as
he sees me.
“Ready for bed, sweetie?”
I bite my lip. “Actually, I was hoping we could watch a movie.”
Rochelle frowns. “I thought you said you were sick.”
“Just until I fall asleep,” I say, in the hopes of summoning Daddy’s
memories of all the nights I insisted on watching a movie before bed. I
would always fall asleep in his arms without fail.
He turns to Rochelle. “It’ll only be a half hour or so.”
She rolls her eyes. “Or so.”
Daddy and Rochelle change into their PJs. Before she can sit down, I
snag my usual spot on the couch next to Daddy. She glares at me and then
settles onto the recliner. I smirk. We put on an old favorite and I pretend to
look sleepy for the first twenty minutes, until I notice Rochelle’s eyes
drooping. I snuggle closer to Daddy and he wraps his arm around me. As
soon as I hear Rochelle’s snore, I spring into action.
“Daddy,” I whisper. “Can you rub my back?”
“Sure, baby. Lie down.”
I spread out so that my upper body is resting across his legs, my breasts
tucked into the space between his thighs. He smooths his hand back and
forth along my spine, just like he used to. After a few minutes, I ask, “Can
you rub under my shirt?”
He slips his warm hand under my tank top. It feels so good. My clit
tingles and I have to stop myself from humping the cushion.
“I don’t want you to sell the house, Daddy.”
He sighs. “I know, sweetheart. But the place really is too big for just one
person.”
“I’ll be back in the summer.”
 “For now, sure. But eventually you’ll grow up and move away. Heck,
I’m surprised you’re still willing to watch movies with your old man.”
“I’ll always want to spend time with you, Daddy. And it’s not just about
me. This was Mom’s house, too.”
“Want to know something crazy?”
“Sure.”
“When you walked into the restaurant tonight, I thought I was looking
at your mother.”
That explains a lot.
I slide my tank top up so that my back is exposed to him. “Was she
beautiful?” I ask, though I know the answer.
“Very beautiful. Just like you.”
I shift onto my back. Rochelle’s snoring has grown steady enough that I
feel safe taking things to the next level. Daddy’s hand glides up my belly
and then stops at my bunched-up shirt like he’s hit a red light. I take his
hand and kiss it, right in the center of his palm.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Could you rub my front?”
He squints, confused. “You mean your belly?”
I pull my shirt up over my breasts. His eyes go wide. “It feels so good
when you rub my back. Please?”
“Sweetie...” His gaze is locked on my chest. “That’s not... If Rochelle
—”
“I’ll be quiet, Daddy. I promise.”
He lets his hand hover over my breasts for a few seconds before he
brings it down. I gasp. His touch is so light it tickles.
“Harder, Daddy,” I whisper. “You’re going to make me laugh.”
“Shh, baby.” He squeezes my breast gently, like he can’t quite believe
what I’m asking of him. I feel his cock harden beneath my back. It’s bigger
than I could’ve imagined. He caresses my tits, then pinches my nipple
between his thumb and forefinger. It feels so good I have to bite my lips
together to stop from crying out.
“You’re so grown-up, Kira.” He circles my nipple as his other hand
glides down my stomach. “You’re not my little girl anymore.”
“I might not be little, but I’m still your girl, Daddy. I still need you.” I
guide his hand between my thighs. “I’ll always need you.”
He cups my pussy through my shorts, pressing and squeezing. I thrust
my hips toward his palm. The indirect pressure on my clit is wonderful. But
if he doesn’t put his hand inside my shorts soon, I’m going to combust. He
teases my shorts to the side and pets the crotch of my underwear, damp with
arousal. My clit is hard. Every swipe across it makes my pussy spasm.
I cover my mouth as his fingertips snake their way into my panties.
Daddy hums softly. I’m so slick that he has no trouble dipping a finger
inside me and then drawing slippery circles over my clit. His cock twitches
against my back in his loose-fitting pajama pants.
Rochelle shifts on the recliner.
Daddy takes his hands away. I pull my shirt down and move to the other
end of the couch, my heart pounding like a hammer in my chest. She rubs
her eyes and looks at the TV, still playing the movie, then frowns.
“Kira, you’re still awake?”
“Yep,” I say.
She turns to my daddy. “Shall we go to bed?”
“You go ahead,” he says. “I’m going to stay up with Kira and finish the
movie.”
Rochelle scoffs and shakes her head. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
My pussy aches now that it’s no longer being played with. Still, I don’t
move a muscle until I hear the upstairs toilet flush and the door to Daddy’s
bedroom click shut.
 Praying the close call hasn’t spooked him, I rest my hand on Daddy’s
thigh. “Daddy, you made me so horny.”
“Daddy’s horny too, baby girl.” He pulls my top down. I gasp as his
mouth latches onto my nipple. It feels divine. He pushes me back onto the
cushion and tugs my shorts off, then fits his body between my thighs. He’s
still hard. In fact, I think he might be harder now than he was five minutes
ago.
His fingers find my clit and resume stroking. Emboldened by arousal, I
reach down and pet his cock through his pajamas. He rocks against my
hand, catching my nipple between his teeth so he can strum his tongue
across the tip.
I start to whimper. His hand covers my lips.
“If you can’t be quiet, I’ll have to put something in your mouth.”
I pry his hand away. “Like what?”
His laugh makes me shiver. “Something big.”
Daddy kisses my nipples, then my belly, then my navel. He kisses my
pussy lips and then my clitoris. I bite down hard on my own knuckle. He
licks me with a flattened tongue, humming his pleasure. I hope I taste okay.
From the way he’s devouring me, I know it can’t be too awful. He slips a
finger inside my pussy. My legs shake. He pulls out, then adds a second
finger, thrusting in and out. Fucking me.
Nobody’s ever fucked me—nobody but myself—and my fingers are
barely half the width of my daddy’s. It helps that I’m so wet and horny.
Still, I want him to know I’ve never done this before.
“Daddy,” I whisper. “I’m...”
He glances up, his mouth shiny. “You’re what, sweetie?”
I swallow thickly. “I just thought you should know I’m...a virgin.”
He looks at his fingers, buried inside me.
“You’ve never had sex before?”
I shake my head.
 “Not even oral?”
“No. Nothing.”
He slides his fingers partway out, stopping at the tips. “Are you asking
me to stop, Kira?”
“No. No, that’s not it.” I reach down to touch his face. “I’m asking you
to be first person I do it with. The first and only.”
“You’re saying you want to be with me?”
I nod. “I want to be the only girl you need.”
Daddy kisses my palm. “I would be honored to be your first, sweetheart.
And as for the rest, there’s no one else I could imagine spending my life
with.”
“But...what about Rochelle?”
He looks at the stairs as though he’s forgotten she’s up there sleeping.
“I’ll break it to her in the morning.” He rises from the couch and takes my
hand. “Come on, baby girl. It’s time for bed.”
I follow him upstairs and into my bedroom where he closes and locks
the door. The soft yellow from my bedside lamp makes Daddy-shaped
shadows across the wall. I sit on the edge of the bed and slip out of my tank
top. Daddy removes his shirt, revealing a strong, defined chest. I watch in
awe as he steps out of his PJs, his cock sticking straight out toward me.
“This is the first cock you’ve ever seen?” he asks.
“Yes. In real life, at least.” I cup my palm over the rounded tip. He
hums. Something warm and sticky oozes out as I wrap my hand around the
shaft.
Daddy folds his hand over mine. “Like this.”
He shows me how to jerk him off. His cock is so big. My hand doesn’t
even fit around him completely. I can tell he’s getting a kick out of teaching
me how to please him, but I want to do something that’ll drive him crazy.
Something to prove how determined I am to be the only lover he’ll ever
need. Leaning forward, I lick the drop of precum from the tip of his cock.
His breath hitches. I kiss and tongue the slit, then wrap my lips around the
head.
Daddy’s hand cups the back of my head, urging me on. I take as much
of him as I can handle, then let him do the rest. He guides me, fucking my
face slowly, a little deeper with each thrust.
“That feels amazing, baby girl.” He smooths my hair. “Do you like the
taste of Daddy’s cock?”
I moan around him. He holds my face with both hands as he slides his
cock in and out. I gag twice. He eases up, though from the way his
breathing changes, I can tell he likes knowing his little girl’s mouth is just a
tad too small for his big daddy cock. I wonder if my pussy will be the same,
too tight, too small, too virginal.
Daddy pulls out of my mouth, wiping the spit from my lips with his
thumb. He urges me to lie down, then climbs on top of me and spreads my
legs. His cock points straight at my pussy. I hold my breath. He thumbs my
nipples, then glides his hand down to stroke my clit.
“It’ll hurt less if you keep breathing, sweetheart.” He rubs the head of
his cock against my slippery clit. It’s like being stroked by a finger the size
of a whole hand. I buck my hips as my pussy muscles tighten and release.
“Ready, baby?”
“Yes. Do it, Daddy.”
“I love you so much, Kira.”
“I love you—oh!”
The head of his cock breaches my opening, spreading my pussy lips and
forcing my muscles to make room. I whine and whimper.
“Shh, honey.” His voice is thin, strained. “You have to be quiet.”
I can’t stop the moan that follows as he bottoms out inside me. His hand
clamps over my mouth. He keeps it there as he slowly pumps in and out of
my pussy. It hurts. It hurts a lot. And then it doesn’t, and I’m so grateful for
his hand over my mouth because all I want to do is moan and cuss and
shout.
Getting fucked is like getting licked and fingered at the same time, only
the finger is huge and the tongue is inside you. I fold my arms and legs
around Daddy’s body, so much bigger and stronger. He’s like a giant
compared to me, a giant with a giant’s cock and a giant’s appetite for
pleasure.
Daddy wraps his arm around my waist so he can pound into me without
slamming my head into the wall. He replaces his hand with his mouth,
slipping his tongue between my lips as his cock impales my pussy. My tits
bounce. He teases my nipple and I can’t help but cry out. He swallows the
sound.
Pressure builds between my thighs, in the space behind my clit, in the
muscles holding him inside. I’m not used to coming like this, with a cock
inside me, so I’m not ready for the intensity when it hits.
Daddy slams into me as my muscles tense and release around him,
milking him. Taking everything he has to give. I feel his body shudder. Wet
heat fills my pussy. I reach down to touch the place where our bodies meet
and my fingers come back sticky. I realize too late that we should’ve used a
condom, but there’s nothing we can do about it. He’s already come inside
me. It’s up to fate to decide what happens now.
He lifts me so that I’m seated in his lap as his cock softens. I cling to
him, helpless and exhausted, like a child—his child. He kisses my neck, my
cheek, my mouth, and rocks me until I can barely hold myself up, and then,
he lays me down.
“As much as I want to,” he whispers, “I shouldn’t sleep in here.
Rochelle will be suspicious if she wakes up and I’m in your room.”
“Are you going to sleep with her?” The thought of him sharing a bed
with her turns my stomach.
 “I’m going to sleep on the couch. Make it look like I fell asleep during
the movie.” He pulls the blankets over me and kisses my forehead.
“Goodnight, baby girl.”
“Night, Daddy.”
The next morning, I skip downstairs to find Rochelle seated at the
kitchen table with red-rimmed eyes. She glowers at me. I put on water for
tea and pour myself a bowl of cereal.
“Looks like you got your wish, princess.”
“Pardon?” I say in my cheeriest voice.
“Your father and I broke up. He’s bringing me home after he gets out of
the shower.”
I eat a spoonful of crunchy gran letters and marshmallow stars. “I’m
sorry to hear that.”
“No, you’re not.”
For once, I don’t have to force a smile; it comes naturally.
“You’re right,” I say. “I’m not.”
 Don’t Peek

I used to think being stuck behind a desk was the worst way to spend a
Saturday. Now I know better. There’s no hell quite like retail hell. If the
toddler throwing a tantrum over in the shoe department wasn’t grating
enough, the store’s fluorescent lights are starting to give me a headache.
Frankly, I’d give my left nut for a quiet office and a stack of invoices
right about now.
“How much longer do you think this is going to take?” I ask.
“Just a little while,” Kiki says.
“You said that two hours ago.”
My daughter sighs, her hands rifling systematically through the clothes
on the clearance rack. “If you want to go sit in the food court, feel free. Just
leave me your credit card.”
I snicker. “Fat chance, big spender.”
She shoots me a playful smile that I can’t help returning.
Normally, Kiki goes clothes shopping with her mother, but her mom’s
gone for the week, island hopping with her new stockbroker beau. I
couldn’t care less who my ex is fucking or whatever else they’re up to on
his fancy-ass boat. What I don’t like is the way she’s neglecting our
daughter. Kiki’s eighteen, but she still needs guidance and structure, and to
know she has parents who love her. Which is how I got stuck wandering
around the mall with my arms weighed down by a hundred goddamn
shopping bags.
“I still need to find a bathing suit,” she says, making a beeline for the
swimsuit section at the back of the store. I trail behind, just close enough
not to lose track of her in the crowd of shoppers.
I stand around while Kiki shops, entertaining the thought of buying
myself a pair of swim trunks, but lacking the fortitude. Ten minutes or ten
hours or ten years later, she finds me, her arms full of brightly colored suits.
“I found a few,” she says.
“Great. Can we go now?”
“No, Daddy.” She laughs. “I have to try them on first.”
We make our way to the dressing rooms. The only open stall is one of
the oversized wheelchair-accessible units. I set her bags down on the floor
inside the room and then turn to go.
“Daddy, wait,” Kiki says. “I need you to stay and tell me if these look
good.”
I glance around at the slew of moms and daughters swarming the other
dressing rooms. There’s yelling and whining, and at least two people are
crying. I can’t say I’m particularly keen to wait among them while Kiki
tries on God knows how many suits.
“Can’t you just take selfies?” I ask her.
“I can never get the angle right. Come on, it’ll be faster if you just tell
me yes or no.”
I’ve heard that one before. “Kiki, baby, I’m getting tired.”
“There’s a bench in here,” she says. “You can sit down.”
“You want me in the room with you?”
“Yeah, if it means you’ll stay.”
A blond woman with an armful of dark-colored clothes clears her
throat, glaring at Kiki through thick, cat-eye glasses. “Are you using this
dressing room or not?”
 I step between the woman and my daughter so Kiki doesn’t have to look
at her pinched mouth. “She’s using it.”
The woman scoffs. I turn back to Kiki.
“Mom always stays,” she whispers.
I sigh. “Let’s make this quick.”
She locks the dressing room door as I clear off a space on the cluttered
bench to sit. Clearly the last girl to use this stall was shopping for a prom
dress.
I watch Kiki hang up her suits, and though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t
stop myself from checking her out. She’s grown so much over the past year
that I barely recognize her as the little girl I used to carry around on my
shoulders.
I have to admit, it’s been kind of fun watching her try on stuff.
My daughter’s gorgeous, no doubt about it. She’s got a face like a doll,
a firm, round ass and toned thighs, and tits that look like they belong on
someone twice her size. For the most part, she dresses modestly, but I can
see from the suits she’s brought in that she’s aiming for sexy.
She grasps the hem of her shirt, exposing the slightest hint of her
midriff. “Okay, Daddy, don’t peek.”
I close my eyes. I hear cloth shifting, the purr of a zipper, the whoosh of
clothes being dropped on the floor.
After about a minute, she says, “Okay, what do you think?”
My eyes don’t just open. They gape.
“Wow,” I say. She’s got on this pink-and-purple thing that crisscrosses
her tits and ties in the back, with bottoms that tie at the sides. Her cleavage
is incredible. I picture the bow behind her neck coming undone, the straps
falling, her tits spilling out.
My cock wakes up.
Kiki smiles shyly. “You like it?”
I do like it. I like it way too fucking much.
 “It’s nice,” I say, trying to sound casual. “Try on another one.”
Kiki reaches behind her and I close my eyes. I take the next few minutes
to get myself under control. For the life of me, I can’t stop wondering what
she looks like naked. Are her tits really that perky? Is she hairy or shaved? I
didn’t see any hair poking out of the swimsuit bottoms, so she must be
trimmed at least.
I’m definitely giving this way too much thought.
“Okay,” Kiki says. “What about this one?”
The next suit is an all-black strapless getup with rhinestones. How the
hell are her tits still up there? My cock twitches as it grows. I’m going to
have to adjust myself pretty soon if I don’t want to be in some serious pain.
Kiki twirls around, giving me a three-sixty view of her incredible body.
The bottoms barely cover her ass.
“That one’s nice, too,” I say.
She studies herself in the mirror. “Do you think it’s boring?”
I fight back a laugh. “Not at all.”
“I’m worried it’s too small.” She bends over, and the only thing that
tears my gaze from her ass is the possibility that she might be popping out
of her top. My jaw drops. Sure enough, they look like they’re millimeters
away from making a jailbreak.
Just a little more...
She stands up. “I think I like the first one better.”
“Whatever’s most comfortable,” I say.
Kiki smiles at me in the mirror. “Thanks for doing this for me, Daddy.”
“Not a problem, baby girl.”
Jesus fucking Christ, I’m hard as a rock. As she sifts through the
remaining suits, I take advantage of the distraction to adjust my cock.
“Which one should I try ne—” Her gaze falls to my bulge. Quickly, I
cross my right leg over my left knee and lean forward.
“Whichever one you want, sweetheart.”
 Kiki eyes me curiously, her hazel eyes burning a hole through my
resolve. She looks like she wants to ask me something, but doesn’t know
how. My heart hammers at my sternum as I try to keep my expression
neutral.
“I guess I’ll try on this green one,” she says. She’s about to unhook the
black band when she pauses. “Um, Daddy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Aren’t you going to close your eyes?”
Fuck, I’m staring at her tits again. If I don’t snap the hell out of it, she’s
going to suspect something’s up. “Sorry, Kiki. Daddy’s tired.”
“I know. I appreciate you taking me shopping. I know it’s not your
favorite thing to do.”
“I’m just happy you’re happy, sweetheart.” I close my eyes and cover
my face with my hands. I hear fabric shifting, then the sound of her
working the new suit off the hanger. It sounds like it’s stuck.
“Do you want some help?” I ask.
“No, thanks,” she says. It occurs to me that she’s probably naked. The
tension in my cock and balls is like an over-tuned guitar string, ready to
snap.
The desire to open my eyes is like a magnetic force; my conscience may
as well be shrapnel. I just want to look. Is that so wrong? It’s not like I’m
going to touch her. What man wouldn’t want to take a gander at what she’s
been hiding under these sexy suits?
I’ll just take a quick peek. She won’t even notice. Then, once my
curiosity’s sated, we can go do some more damage to my credit score, pick
up dinner and go home.
I spread my fingers just a tad, and open my eyes.
It’s a good thing my hands are covering my mouth, because there’s no
stopping the breathy fuuuck that comes pouring out at the sight of her. She’s
even hotter than I imagined. Her tits are amazing, like two perfect melons.
She’s got these puffy little nipples, islands of pink in a porcelain sea, and
they’re staring right at me. I spread my fingers a bit further so I can see
better. Her pussy is smooth, like she’s just shaved this morning, the lips
slightly puffy. She’s got a tattoo of a lollipop with the words Lick it
scrawled in cursive on her mound.
When the hell did she get that?
“Daddy, are you peeking?” Kiki asks quietly.
Shit. I clamp my eyes shut. “No, baby. I’m not peeking.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Nope. Not peeking.”
I feel her fingers wrap around my wrists. She uncovers my face.
“Daddy,” she says. My pulse is galloping like a prize thoroughbred.
“Daddy, open your eyes.”
I crack one eye and then the other. My mouth waters. Her tits are
practically staring me in the face.
“You were looking at me, weren’t you, Daddy?”
My little girl stands over me, naked as the day she was born. Close
enough that I can either suck her tits or kiss her pussy if I tilt my head up or
down. I swallow hard.
“I’m sorry, Kiki,” I whisper, praying no one can hear us. “You’re just so
beautiful. I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.”
Kiki nibbles her bottom lip. “Am I as pretty as Mom was at my age?”
“Prettier,” I say. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Oh, boy, she likes that. I can tell by the way her eyes light up as she lifts
and cup her breasts. She flutters her thumbs over the stiff pink nipples. My
cock feels like it’s about to bust through my zipper. Suddenly, looking isn’t
enough anymore.
I need to touch her.
My hands plant themselves on her ass. She gets this nervous look on her
face, like she’s afraid she’s bitten off more than she can swallow. I slow my
approach, whispering kisses across her stomach, until I hear the faintest
whimper leak from her throat. My mouth finds her breast, kisses a line to
her nipple, then latches on.
“Oh, God,” she whispers.
Her fingers comb through my hair as I reach up to cradle her tits.
Somehow, they’re both soft and firm, pert and heavy, supple and resilient. I
palpate them and the way they jiggle makes my cock throb. I swirl circles
around her nipples with my tongue, graze my teeth along the fleshy
undersides.
My daughter’s tits taste delightful. I could suck on them for hours. But
the sound of women talking in the neighboring dressing room reminds me
we’re not alone. I run my hands over her hips and belly. Her round ass and
toned thighs. Gently, I glide my fingertips along her smooth pussy lips.
“Fuck, Daddy.” Her voice is breathy.
I trace the tattoo on her mound. “Do you want Daddy to lick your
pussy?”
“Please,” she says.
I’ve never been so happy to indulge her. I slide between her lips and
find her sopping. I swear to God, my cock is going to snap in half if I don’t
free it soon. “Put your foot on the bench and grab my shoulders.”
She rests one foot on the bench, spreading herself for me. Jesus, even
her pussy is gorgeous, pink and glistening, her little clit hard and swollen. I
lick her lips first, then slip my tongue down to her opening. She clutches at
my shirt as her legs tremble. I kiss her clit and she gasps.
“Remember we have to be quiet,” I whisper.
Kiki nods.
I flutter my tongue over her clit and then go to town. She grinds her
pussy against me as I lick her, and I use her enthusiasm to inform my
technique. She likes it when I push my tongue inside her and press my nose
to her clit. She likes it even better when I press on her asshole as I suck her.
 Kiki starts to whine. Her hands fist around my shirt. Her clit pulses and
I know she’s about to come, but fuck if I don’t want to be inside her when it
happens.
I pull back, and her small, plaintive cry makes me laugh. I stand,
wrapping my arms around her as I kiss her mouth and walk her back
towards the mirror. She rocks her hips, rubbing herself against my cock. I
turn her to face the mirror and plant her palms on the glass so I can watch
her tits bounce as I fuck her.
“Daddy, wait—”
“Shh,” I whisper. “If anyone hears us, they might look under the door.”
“But I’m not...” Her voice trails off as I loosen my belt and unzip. I take
out my cock. It feels so damn good not to have it cooped up in my pants. I
glide the head up and down her ass crack, then between her legs. Kiki
arches her back so the head of my cock can graze her clit.
“Not a sound, sweetheart,” I whisper as I poise the head at her slit.
She bites her lip and nods.
I watch my daughter’s face in the dressing-room mirror as I slide my
cock inside her.
Her red lips form a perfect O. She closes her eyes. I reach around to
stroke her clit as I pound her. She’s so wet, so tight. Her tits bounce as she
pushes back to meet my thrusts. I grab one, squeezing and teasing her
nipple as my fingers circle her clit.
I study our reflections, father and daughter fucking like animals in a
department store dressing room. I’m willing to bet this doesn’t happen
every Saturday. I can feel Kiki’s muscles contracting around my cock. She’s
coming. Good fucking God, my baby girl is coming on her daddy’s cock.
She really does try her best to stay quiet, but she can’t help the tiny little
grunts that eke out. I know I should stop, or at least put my hand over her
mouth, but my cock is harder than it’s ever been. I’m so close to coming. I
can feel my balls pulling up and my shaft going taut—and fuck if I don’t
love the sounds she makes as she rides my cock.
“Shit,” I rasp. “I’m coming. Baby, I’m coming.”
“No, Daddy,” she whispers. “I’m not on the pill.”
But it’s too late. I can already feel the cum moving up my shaft as she
wriggles to slide off. Instead of letting her go, I pin her to the mirror and
bottom out inside her. This is happening; there’s no stopping it, and though
I know I should be sorry, I’m not.
I bite back a groan as I blow my load in my daughter’s pussy, my cock
pulsing, painting her tight walls. I kiss the back of her neck as I thrust four
more times until I’m spent, until her muscles start to relax my cock slips out
of her.
Kiki drops to her knees in front of the mirror. I drop with her, smoothing
a hand up and down her back as my legs crumple. I pet her hair as my cum
drips down from her pussy lips onto the carpet. She turns to face me, her
breasts rising and falling with her deep breaths.
Somehow, my baby girl’s even more gorgeous after a hard fucking.
“Wow,” she says. “That was way better than any shopping trip I’ve ever
taken with Mom.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Are you saying you only want me to take you
clothes shopping from now on?”
“Maybe.” She pets my cock, sticky with cum and her own juices.
“Assuming today wasn’t too boring for you.”
I kiss her open mouth and leave her panting. “Sweetheart, I’d be happy
to.”
 Playing House

R ain batters the rooftop as lightning flashes through my bedroom

curtains. I hold tight to Barry, my oversized stuffed bear, and count the
seconds before the thunder. The house rattles with the boom, and I shiver. I
hate being alone in the house during a thunderstorm. Even with my night-
light on, it's too eerie and dark.
“You'll be fine, Hailey,” Mom said earlier this evening, as she shrugged
into her stylish red raincoat. “You know I've been cooped up in this house
too long. I need a girls' night out.”
It's true, she has been spending a lot of time at home since Daddy got a
new job in the city. Now he only comes home on weekends. I miss him
terribly.
“I don't understand why you never want to go out with friends,” Mom
said, grabbing her keys from the hook beside the kitchen door. “It seems
like all you do is work at the ice cream shop and sit around and watch
cartoons. Don't you want to have fun, Hailey? Grown-up fun?”
She doesn't understand that watching cartoons, eating ice cream, and
coloring is my idea of fun. I'll have all fall and winter to hang out with
friends when I start college, but for now, I just want to enjoy being a kid for
a little while longer.
 Daddy gets it. He never makes me bad for choosing animated movies on
family night or for liking my sandwiches with the crusts cut off. I might be
eighteen, but I'll always be Daddy's little girl. At least, that's what he tells
me.
If only he didn't have to travel so far for work. Then he wouldn't have to
stay in the city during the week and we could spend more time together. I
miss having him here in the mornings, drinking coffee and checking sports
scores on his phone while I eat my cereal. Sometimes he lets me rest my
legs across his lap, and even rubs my feet if I ask sweetly enough. To tell
the truth, I think he just likes making me feel good.
Another crash of thunder shakes the house. I burrow into my blankets,
holding tight to Barry. Daddy gave him to me as a birthday present a few
years ago. Mom rolled her eyes and said it was too big for my bed. But I
love the fact that he's almost as big as I am. I like to wrap my arms and legs
around him and pretend he's a real person who could love me. Sometimes I
even get myself off on him, humping his stuffed-bear belly until my clit
tingles and my pussy spasms. Always after Mom goes to sleep, of course. I
can get pretty loud, and I don't want her hearing me moan.
The nice thing about doing it at night is that I can usually fall asleep
pretty quickly afterward. Who knows when Mom will be back tonight from
the bar. If I can focus on something other than the storm, I might actually
get a few hours of sleep tonight.
I position Barry on his back and slip off my PJ pants, panties, and shirt.
My nipples are already hard and sensitive. Straddling Barry's tummy, I
touch the tips of my small yet sensitive breasts to his cold plastic nose. A
delicious shiver runs through me and makes my pussy tingle. I pull the
sheet around my shoulders so I won't get chilly and start to rock.
My whole pelvis throbs. This is how I learned to masturbate, changing
up the stuffed animal depending on the sensation I needed to bring me
closer to orgasm. Barry isn't firm like my lion. He's soft and plush. It takes
longer for me to come when I hump him, but I like the way it makes me
work for my pleasure.
I press and rub my pussy against Barry's chest, bracing myself on my
knees and elbows. Eyes closed, I kiss his plastic nose and try and pretend
I'm kissing a real person. Someone big and strong and handsome. Someone
who loves me.
For some reason, the only person who comes to mind is Daddy. He's tall
and muscular and attractive, with thick, dark hair like mine and soft lips. I
think about the feel of them pressed against my forehead, and the one time
he kissed me on the lips when I turned my head on accident. The memory
makes my clit flutter. I hump Barry harder, pushing against him and forcing
the sheet to pool around my hips.
I picture my daddy's mouth on mine, his tongue sliding across my
tongue, his hands...oh god, his hands! I swear I can feel one on my bare
back now.
“Sweetheart?” His voice drifts into my consciousness. I moan softly as I
grind my pussy harder. Faster.
“Daddy...” The word floats from my open mouth. I sit up so I can run
my hands over my breasts and belly. “Daddy, I need you...”
“I’m right here, baby. Daddy’s here.”
The bed shifts. I freeze. He’s really here. My eyes snap open but I can’t
make myself turn and face him.
“Hailey, baby?” Daddy rests his hands on my shoulders as he kneels
behind me on the bed.
“You’re not supposed to be home ’til Friday,” I squeak, as though that
will excuse or explain anything.
“I came home early to see you.”
“Why didn’t you knock?” I cover my breasts, though I doubt he can see
them from where he’s seated behind me.
 “I got you a present. I wanted to slip in and leave it on your bed for you
to find in the morning.” He kisses my shoulder and wraps his arms around
my middle. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.
I’ve just missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too.” I can feel the tears prickling my eyes, the shame
rising like acid in my throat. The things he heard me say. The things he saw
me do. “I’m sorry, too, Daddy. I don’t know what came over me—”
“Shh, it’s all right. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” I gasp
as his hand snakes beneath mine to curve around my breast. He strokes my
nipple. “You know, I think about you all the time when I’m away from
home.”
“You do?” My clit tingles. I can’t stop my hips from rocking.
“I think about you playing your video games and coloring. I think about
you sitting on my lap during movie nights. Those cute little shorts that show
off your long legs, and the matching top that barely hides your nipples.”
I relax against him as he cups my breasts with both hands. “You think
about my nipples?”
“Oh, yes. I think about how much I’d like to play with them.” He tickles
the hardened tips of my breasts. I half gasp, half giggle, trembling in his
arms. I can’t believe I’m letting my daddy touch me like this. Then again, if
I am going to let someone touch me, it might as well be someone I trust.
Someone I love. My clit throbs and I realize that I’ve started humping Barry
again.
“I think about you alone in this big house during the week when I can’t
be here,” he says, “and how lonely it must get.”
“It is lonely.”
He kisses a line up my shoulder to my ear. “I think about you touching
yourself at night, making yourself feel good. How much I’d love to make
you feel good.”
 His thumbs flutter back and forth over my nipples. My breasts are small
enough to fit in his palms, but he doesn’t seem to care. He must like them,
because I can feel him pressing his crotch against my ass in time with my
thrusts. There’s a hard bulge wedged into the cleft of my bottom. It must be
his cock. The realization sends a rush of delightful tingles through my body.
I whimper as Daddy’s hands leave my breasts to roam across my skin.
He massages my thighs and bottom. A moment later, I hear his belt buckle
clink and his zipper purr. Something warm and rounded prods my ass from
behind.
“What’s that, Daddy?”
“Just my cock, baby girl.”
I tense, nervous. “But...Daddy, I’ve never...”
“It’s okay, Hailey. Don’t be scared. I’m not going to put it inside you
yet. Just keep doing what you’d normally do with Barry.”
I giggle. “But Barry doesn’t have one of those.”
“Well, if you’re a good girl tonight, Daddy might buy you a strap-on for
him. Then you can make yourself feel good all week until I get home.”
I moan as he prods me a few more times before sliding his cock
between my pussy and Barry’s tummy. It’s so long that I can see the head
poking out from between my pink lips when I look down. At first, it’s a
little strange having him there. But as I get used to it, I realize I love the
way his cock feels, so much harder than Barry on the inside, yet still soft
and smooth against my skin. I rock my hips, grinding my clit against the
head and making him slick with my wetness.
Daddy’s hands return to my nipples. He pinches and flicks. We settle
into a rhythm, him thrusting between my legs as I hump both him and
Barry. It feels so good, I start to cry. Not giant sobs, but small, sporadic
teardrops that fall from my cheeks onto my chest. I’m not used to having
such direct pressure on my clit. I can barely hold myself up anymore. I drop
onto my elbows, as he rubs my back.
 “That’s my good girl,” he says.
I hump and hump until my legs are sore, until I’m breathless and
sweating. I can feel my orgasm brewing like a thunderstorm between my
thighs. The wind howls outside as I whimper into Barry’s fur. Daddy
brushes the hair from my neck so he can kiss my nape.
“Oh, god, Daddy.” I grind my clit over his cockhead. “It’s so good... So
good... Oh!”
My pussy tightens. My whole body shakes and shudders. Daddy groans
softly, his cock somehow harder now than it was a minute ago. Pleasure
slithers through me like a snake, and I writhe with it, my hips rolling with
each wave as it hits. He thrusts forward just as I rock back, and in that
instant, his cock and my pussy align, and the head slips inside me.
I gasp. My muscles cry out at being stretched. I try and wriggle off of
him, but he holds me in place. “Daddy, wait, that’s my—”
“Don’t move,” he rasps. “Shit, baby. I hope you’re ready, because I
can’t wait another second.”
He starts to push inside me.
“Daddy!” I cling to Barry as my daddy’s cock shoves its way into me.
I’m so wet that it shouldn’t be difficult, but I’m a virgin, so it’s tight.
Judging by the noises he’s making, I wonder if it hurts him, too. He pulls
out partway, then thrusts back in. It hurts, but my friends all told me it’s
supposed to, so I bear it.
“God, I hoped you were a virgin.” He squeezes my ass and then cups
my breast. “Does it feel good? Please tell me it feels good. I don’t want to
hurt you, but...fuck, it’s like your pussy’s trying to strangle me.”
“It hurts a little.” I whine softy as he moves in and out. After a moment,
the pain subsides and most of what I feel is pleasurable. I close my eyes and
let my body move the way it wants to, pushing back to meet my daddy’s
thrusts. He fucks me harder. He pounds me forward against Barry, which
puts pressure on my clit. The combination of the two, being stuffed and
pummeled as I hump my stuffed bear the way that I’m used to doing it,
feels like the best of both worlds.
“Oh, fuck,” I whine. “That’s so good.”
“Yeah?” He draws out slowly, then fucks me deep. “You like getting
fucked by Daddy’s cock while you hump your stuffed bear?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“You gonna remember how good it felt to grind your clit on Daddy’s
cock when I’m at work next week?”
“God, yes.” I can already feel the tightening in my pussy and the tingles
in my clit. Normally when I play with Barry or one of my other stuffed
animals, I come at least twice.
Daddy swears and grunts. “You’re coming again, aren’t you? Jesus,
fuck. My little girl’s gonna come on my cock.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or to himself, but I’m long past words
at this point. I hold my breath and wait for the first wave to hit me. When it
does, I cry out. I’ve never come like this, with somebody’s cock inside me.
It’s fucking intense. Like my pussy is a fist that wants to hold my daddy and
keep him close, so he can’t leave again.
Pleasure explodes between my legs, echoing out into the rest of my
body.
“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m coming, too. I can’t stop it. Fuck!”
Daddy plows into me with his big, fat, impossibly rigid cock. Each slap
of his pelvis against my ass sends another shockwave of pleasure through
my nervous system. Heat fills me as his cock pulses, and then I feel the
wetness on Barry’s belly—my daddy’s cum dripping out of my pussy.
“Shit.” He pulls out of me. “I shouldn’t have come inside you. But
goddamn if that didn’t feel fucking incredible.”
I flop onto my back and spread my legs, then dip a finger inside myself.
I feel like a Boston cream donut, sweet and sticky and cream-filled.
“There’s so much, Daddy.”
 “It has been a few days.” He chuckles, takes off his shirt and uses it to
wipe off his cock, plus the parts of him dripping down between my butt
cheeks. He sighs. “I’m afraid Barry’s going to have to go in the wash before
your mom gets home.”
I pull Barry into my arms. “But who will I sleep with tonight?”
A smile slides across his face. He reaches down beside the bed and pulls
up a giant stuffed platypus. “How about this guy?”
I squeal with joy. “I love him! He’s so cute. Thank you, Daddy.” I poke
at the stuffing in the platypus’s tummy. “Hmm...”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I’m not sure if he’s going to be as good at getting me off.”
“Well,” Daddy says, “There’s only one way to find out.”
 Pack Master’s Princess

“I won ’ t do it ,
Daddy. You can’t make me.”
A sigh racked my father’s chest as he reached across the bedspread to
squeeze my knee. “I’m afraid you have no choice, Taryn.”
“Like hell I don’t.” I pushed up from the bed to stand in the center of
my room. “This is my home. I’m not leaving. Not now, not ever.”
My father smoothed a hand down his auburn beard, his gaze sober. I
could tell he didn’t want to be having this conversation any more than I did.
“The treaty between packs was signed long before you came into this
world. You were born into a pure bloodline, and that bloodline must be
protected.”
“So what, now that I’m nineteen you’re just going to ship me off to the
next pack? Nice to know you, pup, now go be a breeder?”
“It’s not that simple, Taryn.”
No, it wasn’t. But that didn’t make it fair.
It had been a dry breeding season. All but one of the females—of which
there were only three—had miscarried, and the only living offspring was
another male. If we couldn’t birth more pups, my brothers would eventually
be forced to find human mates, thus thinning our bloodline.
The fate of the pack was literally between my legs.
 As the only female born to the reigning Pack Master, I was forbidden to
mate with anyone besides another Pack Master, at least until after my first
litter was born. The only way to ensure our numbers was with an exchange:
me for another female from the neighboring pack across the river. She
would mate with my father and my brothers, and I would do the same with
hers. That was how it was done, how it’s always been done.
I was a glorified puppy mill.
My father rose to cradle my face in his big, warm hands. “I don’t want
this any more than you do, Taryn. You’re my daughter. I love you. I don’t
want to lose you. But as Pack Master I have a responsibility to our
bloodline.”
“And what about your responsibility to your own blood?”
He shook his head. “If there were any other way, I would bend Heaven
and Earth to make it so. But what else can I do?”
The pain in his eyes mirrored the sorrow I felt in my heart. I turned
from him, not wanting him to see my tears. In truth, there wasn’t much he
could do, besides forego the treaty. An act that would send the territories
into chaos.
I breathed deeply to steady my voice. “When will the exchange take
place?”
“Tomorrow night.”
I whirled around to gape at him. “Why so soon?”
His gaze darkened as his hands curled at his sides. “You’re in heat,
Taryn. I can smell it on you. We all can. The longer you stay, the more in
danger you are of...”
He trailed off. I stared at the floor, trying to hide the flush creeping into
my cheeks. Yes, I was in heat. It didn’t matter how many times I got myself
off, my body wanted to mate—needed to mate. It was a physical ache inside
me.
“In danger of what?” I asked.
 He couldn’t meet my eyes. “Of causing a frenzy.”
Frenzy. The word sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. It was a
phenomenon we spoke of only in hushed whispers, the uncontrollable urge
to mount and be mounted. There was no fighting it once it caught hold, and
it did not discriminate among packs or blood relations, or even species.
Heaven help the innocent girlchild who found herself alone in the forest
with a pack of frenzied wolves on her tail.
The though hit me suddenly. What if I did cause a frenzy? If one of my
brothers were to impregnate me, my father would be forced to call off the
exchange. The bloodline would remain pure.
I could stay.
“Fine,” I lied. “I’ll go.”
My father folded his arms around me from behind. I leaned back against
his broad, solid chest and breathed him in, rain and cedar, smells I’d known
my whole life. I would do whatever it took stay here, even if it meant taking
one of my brothers as a mate.
“I’m so sorry, Taryn.” He kissed my temple. “Try and get some sleep
tonight.”
I waited until I heard his bootsteps on the stairs, then quietly shut my
bedroom door.
There was no time to waste.
I ransacked my closet for the thinnest, shortest dress I could find.
Something that would leave very little to the imagination. I settled on a
gauzy white nightgown that draped loosely and ended just below my ass.
No underwear. Where I was going, I wouldn’t be needing them.
Ears peeled, I opened my window, slipped out onto the garage roof and
down the side of the house. I didn’t bother with shoes; my oldest brother
Declan’s place was only a quick sprint across the field. As I suspected,
Shane and Lucas were still up playing video games on Declan’s seventy-
inch television. My other brothers, James and Brian, lived in the main house
with me, but I wasn’t sure where they’d gone or when they’d be returning.
I stood on the porch, watching Shane, my twin, and Lucas through the
window, not sure how to proceed. Would it be better to try and seduce one
of them, or should I simply offer myself to whoever’s there and let the
frenzy take over?
Before I could decide, Declan opened the door.
“Hey,” he said, his gaze leaden. Ten years older than me, he was my
father’s second in command. He’d no doubt known about my fate for
weeks.
“Hi.” I shifted from foot to foot. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d come see
what you guys were up to.”
Declan stepped aside so I could enter. He seemed to be holding his
breath as I slipped past him into the kitchen. Sounds of simulated gunfire
and rang out from the living room. Trying my best to appear casual, I
clasped my hands and said, “So, I’m guessing you heard the news.”
“I did.” He stuffed both hands in his jeans, his amber eyes searching my
face. “How are you coping?”
I shrugged. “Oh, you know. About as well as can be expected, seeing as
how I’m about to leave the only home I’ve ever known.”
He nodded, clearly resigned to what he considered an inevitable loss.
Trying to induce a frenzy in Declan was more likely to lead to a lecture on
personal responsibility than rabid fucking. I’d have to hope one of the
others would be more amenable.
I headed toward the sounds of combat, plopping myself down on the
couch between Shane and Lucas, both of whom were fully engrossed in
their game.
“Hey, guys,” I said.
Shane grunted. Lucas mumbled a quiet hello, his elbow jabbing my arm
as he frantically tapped the controller. Glancing back to make sure Declan
was still in the kitchen, I let my thighs splay ever so slightly on the couch.
Lucas sniffed the air first, followed by Shane.
I pretended to be engrossed in the game. Lucas adjusted the front of his
pajama pants that were starting to look a little small for what he had going
on in there.
My plan was working.
Pulling one leg to my chest, I let my dress ride up, exposing even more
of my pussy to the air. A deep rumble sounded in Shane’s throat. I leaned
my head on my twin’s shoulder. Lucas glanced down at my legs and licked
his lips. They were both looking pretty tight in the crotch area.
But it was Declan who acted first.
Apparently, all that pent-up tension had been waiting for a reason to
explode. He was on me in a flash. I yelped as he forced my knees apart and
buried his face between my legs.
“Fuck, man.” Shane’s eyes glowed yellow. He tried to shove Declan out
of the way, only to be met with a snarl.
Declan’s tongue was relentless. I stared down at him, my jaw slack and
my body trembling, my clit pulsing beneath the attention of his skilled
mouth. No one had ever touched me there before, let alone eaten me out. I
couldn’t believe how amazing it felt.
Lucas knew he wasn’t getting anywhere near my pussy while Declan
was busy devouring it. He settled for tearing the front of my dress open and
latching onto my nipple. Shane joined him, the two of them devouring my
breasts with warm, wet tongues, their cocks straining in their pants. I
reached down to massage their cocks through the fabric, one in each hand,
my own head thrown back as I rode wave after wave of pleasure—
The door crashed open, and in strode my father, his amber eyes blazing.
With a vicious roar, he tore my brothers off me, growling at Shane and
Lucas as they scrambled to take Declan’s place between my legs.
 “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” my father barked. I shrank
back against the couch. He shoved Declan up against a wall, his teeth bared.
“You know how important tomorrow is. And she’s your sister, for Christ’s
sake.”
“She smells so good,” Declan said. He blinked rapidly, his eyes losing
some of their desperation. “I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop...myself.
I’m sorry, Dad.”
Lucas took advantage of my father’s distracted state, inching toward me
on the couch. Shane pulled at my dress, trying to get at what was between
my thighs. My father lunged for him, pushing him to the floor, only to have
to release him to drag Lucas off me. My brothers snapped at my father, then
at each other, fangs bared and growing longer.
They looked ready to tear each other apart.
“Taryn,” my father shouted, “get out.”
“Daddy, I—”
“GET OUT! Run as far as you can. GO!”
I scrambled off the couch and out of the house, away from the awful
sound of shouts and snarls. Abandoning my dress, I let my pounding heart
and the wolf blood in my veins take over, dropping to all fours, my limbs
strengthening, my spine elongating. Pores sprouting fur.
The night burst into focus around me, as my sensitivity to smells
increased and my hearing sharpened. My claws scraped the earth. I pushed
on through the trees, past the rock where my brothers and I used to
sunbathe, past the sycamore where I fell three summers ago and sprained
my wrist. I knew every inch of these woods, every rock and stream, every
tree. To leave this place would be like forsaking a part of myself. It would
rend me in two.
It would kill me.
Exhausted, I came to a halt in the small wildflower meadow where my
brothers and I once nursed from our mother as young pups. This was her
favorite spot to hunt deer and rabbit. Panting, I threw myself down onto the
wet grass. Gazing up at the night sky, I made the shift back to human.
Running on two legs pales in comparison to running on all fours, but there’s
nothing quite like feeling the night on your bare skin.
I smelled my father before I saw him, bounding light as air into the
clearing, his coat thick and shiny beneath the moon. Resolved, I stood to
meet him. He began to shift, rising on two legs as he approached from the
edge of the field.
My skin prickled. I trembled from fear rather than cold. My father’s
temper had a famously long fuse—just one reason why he made such an
effective Pack Master. But pushed too far, he was like a boulder careening
downhill. Nothing could stop him.
“That was your plan?” he growled, his voice deep and guttural. “Get
one of your brothers to knock you up so you wouldn’t have to go?” He
stood before me, naked and impossibly tall.
I scrubbed the goose bumps from my arms. “Well, it would’ve worked
—”
His hand shot out, long fingers wrapping around my throat.
“You lied to me, Taryn. You plotted behind my back to undermine my
authority.”
“What choice did you leave me?” I choked out. “You want to trade me
like a fucking resource, tear me away from everyone I know—”
“As my daughter, that is your duty.”
I wrenched free of his hold, knowing that the only reason I could was
because he’d let me. “Fuck duty. Fuck the treaty and fuck you!”
He raised his hand as if to slap me. I flinched, ready for the blow. His
eyes dipped to my bare breasts. He lowered his hand. “You would have
your brothers’ pups?”
“I would,” I said. “If that’s what it took.”
My father bared his fangs in a smile that made my stomach flutter.
 “Would you have mine?”
My heart leapt into my throat.
“You want to stay with the pack, she-wolf, you have to serve the pack.”
He took a step toward me, one for every step I took backward. “That means
serving your Pack Master.”
The hunger in in his gaze was like a force unto itself. His eyes burned
like embers. My pussy tightened—an ache that refused to be ignored. My
inner thighs were slick with my juices; I could practically smell my own
pheromones.
My father’s cock pressed against my stomach. He was a big man and an
even bigger wolf. The thing jutting out from the pelt between his legs was
massive. I whimpered as my inner muscles throbbed. My body didn’t care
that he was my father. He was a beast with a hard cock, and I was a she-
wolf in heat.
I dropped down onto all fours.
My father growled approvingly. I closed my eyes and waited to feel his
hands on my hips.
What I felt instead was a long, hot tongue.
He’d shifted back to his wolf form.
“No, wait!” I cried, panicked. “Let me shift back, too.”
I tried to turn over, tried to crawl away. He wouldn’t let me. With his
teeth on the back of my neck and his paws flanking my waist, he slid his
long, pointed wolf cock into my very human pussy.
My virgin muscles strained to adjust to the sheer size of him.
“Please, Daddy, no. Not like this!”
His thrusts were more like jabs, his cock pummeling me over and over. I
squeezed my eyes shut against the mortification of him taking me this way,
like the bitch that I was. As my muscles adjusted, my pussy stopped hurting
and started craving more. The feel of him inside me, claiming me, rutting
like some single-minded beast, wasn’t something I ever could’ve prepared
for.
“Oh, God,” I moaned. “Oh, Daddy, that’s so good.”
He fucked me hard and fast, like he was making up for all the years
he’d gone without a mate, without even a human woman to pleasure him.
Suddenly, there was a gush of fluid pouring into me, so much that my pussy
couldn’t contain it. A firmness began to build around the base of his cock, a
swollen knot that stretched my walls and stopped his cum from seeping out.
I knew what knotting was; I’d heard the other females whispering about
it. But knowing and feeling the bulb grow inside me were two different
things.
My father dropped onto his front paws, forcing me to lie flat on the
ground with him locked inside me. The pressure around my opening was
almost unbearable. I couldn’t move without feeling like I was going to tear
my pussy apart, so I didn’t. He panted and whined, sniffing at the back of
my neck where his teeth had held me. I wondered if he’d drawn blood,
though I was too dazed to care.
Eventually, the knot shrank and my father was able to slide out. He
nudged me with his nose and then rolled me onto my back so he could lick
my face.
I stroked the soft fur around his neck as he bathed my throat and chest. I
whimpered as his tongue lathed across my nipples. When he saw how much
I liked it, he did it again, each lap igniting a corresponding spark behind my
clit. I raised my hips, urging my father to move lower.
The moment his tongue dipped between my legs, I howled.
He concentrated his attentions on my clit, occasionally slipping his
tongue down to taste my opening. The strength and softness of his tongue
was a million times better than my fingers, and a lot more dexterous.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the forbidden pleasure. After a few
minutes, I felt him start to change beneath my hands, his fur retracting, his
snout and tongue shortening. My father's human mouth proved just as
skilled as his wolf's muzzle. I dug my nails into the flesh of his shoulders as
he sucked my clit between his lips.
“Oh, oh God... Shit.” The pleasure crested and then poured over me, my
pussy grasping for something, anything to fill it up. My father held my hips
in place as he drew out my orgasm, flicking his tongue and forcing my body
to yield to his will. It was like a storm rolling through me, violent and wet.
My father leaned back on his haunches to look at me, wiping my juices
from his beard. With trembling fingers, I traced the muscles in his powerful
chest. He was a fortress built for fighting and fucking. And if the hard cock
between his legs was any indication, he wasn't finished fucking me yet.
The frenzied look had left his eyes, though his lust was still very much
front and center. He cradled my breast in his hand.
“Do you regret your choice yet, little she-wolf?”
I chewed my bottom lip. After my initial shock at being mounted by his
wolf form, it would make sense for him to assume I regretted offering
myself to him. But I didn't. In fact, I was surer now than I was when I
spread my legs for my brothers. This forest was my home. These wolves
were my pack. And this man, my father, was and always would be my Pack
Master.
I reached for his cock.
A deep rumble filled my ears as I guided his cock to my pussy. He
positioned himself over me, his strong arms forming a cage around my
body, a cage I had no interest in escaping. He bowed his head to kiss me as
he thrust his cock into my opening. Unlike his wolf cock, his human cock
was thicker at the head than at the base. I still needed a moment to get used
to him. But a moment was all he gave me. As the frenzy took over, my
father lost his composure. His teeth scraped my neck and shoulders as his
cock rammed me.
All I could do was wrap my limbs around him and hold on for dear life.
 His eyes glowed in the dark. His breathing grew louder. He was
changing again, this time while he was still inside me. His hands became
paws, his skin a thick fur coat. I buried my face in his neck fur.
My father howled. His cock throbbed, unloading spurt after spurt of hot
cum into my pussy. It seemed like there would be no end to the stream. The
base ballooned, forming a knot. I cried out, convinced it was going to
damage me. Yet, still, I rocked my hips, the swollen bulb stimulating
pleasure spots I didn’t even know existed. I held my breath until the
pressure in my chest and between my legs became too much and I had to
shout.
“Fuck, Daddy, I’m coming! Shit, it’s so good, I can’t believe how good
it is... Fuck!”
He collapsed on top of me, panting, his scent filling my nostrils.
Some time later, he tried to pull out, only to find we were still knotted.
He whined softly, almost apologetically.
I scratched behind his ears. “It's okay, Daddy. I don’t mind.”
He licked my face as I stroked his flank. Slowly, the knot inside me
contracted and he was able to pull out. His cum ran down between my ass
cheeks, wetting the grass.
My father rose to his paws, and I rose with him. We eyed one another
cautiously, somehow shy even after everything we'd done. I held my hand
out to him as a peace offering. He licked it, then pressed his forehead to my
belly. I stroked his neck.
A howl pierced the quiet from somewhere in the distance. It sounded
like Declan. My brothers were probably wondering where we'd run off to.
“Let’s go home, Daddy.”
He crouched so I could swing my leg across his back. Holding tight to
his fur, I watched the familiar scenery fly past as we bounded off into the
night. Back to my home, back to my brothers.
Back to my pack.
 Take it Off

I’ m in the driveway , changing the oil in my car, when a UPS truck pulls
up in front of my house. The brown-clad driver hauls a long, heavy-looking
box out from the back. Wiping the grease from my hands, I meet him
halfway up the drive.
“Afternoon,” he says.
“What’s this?” I point to the box. “I didn’t order anything.”
He sets the box down on the blacktop with a metallic clang and checks
the label. “Is your name B. Flynn?”
The front door squeals open and bangs shut.
“It’s here!” My daughter, Brittany, leaps off the front steps and down the
driveway, beaming like sunshine brought to life. “I ordered it! It’s for me!
Thank you so much.”
She grabs one end of the box and starts dragging it up the walkway. The
damn thing is almost as tall as she is. The driver’s gaze follows her ass in
her little white shorts a few seconds too long.
I clear my throat. “You got anything else in that truck?”
“Uh...” He blinks. “No. That’s all of it.”
“Then quit gawkin’ at my daughter’s ass and get the hell off my
property.”
 The punk scampers off. I shut the hood of my car and wash my hands in
the workshop sink, then go inside to see what was so damn heavy and
awesome that Brittany had to drag it inside immediately.
She’s got the box halfway through the kitchen when I catch up to her.
“What’s this?”
“My new workout equipment.” She drags the box a few feet across the
floor, then stops, panting. “It's a pole.”
“What kind of pole?”
“A dancing pole.” Another lift and drag, followed by a drop.
I squint. “You mean a stripper’s pole?”
“That's one name for it. I've been taking pole-dancing classes between
work and school.”
“You planning to drop out of college and take up stripping?” The
thought of a bunch of horny assholes leering at my little girl makes my
blood boil, not that she wouldn’t be great at it. She's got her mom's great
legs and my green eyes. With her dark-red hair, a stellar rack and an ass that
won't quit, she's a knockout.
But that doesn’t mean I want her shaking the goods for just anyone.
“No,” she says. “I've been doing rigorous strength training.” She tries to
lift the box onto the kitchen island in one go. It’s too heavy. She tows it
upright and leans it against the counter instead.
“And how have you been paying for these rigorous workout sessions?”
“I have a job, Daddy.”
“You have a part-time job. How much are these classes costing you?
Twenty? Thirty bucks a pop?”
“More like fifty.”
“Jesus Christ, Brittany, that's way too much.”
“Which is precisely why I invested in my own pole.” She pats the box,
clearly satisfied with herself.
I pinch the spot between my eyes. “Where is this pole going to go?”
 “In the basement.”
My jaw clenches. Technically, the finished basement is there for both of
us to use, but over the past few months it's become my unofficial man cave.
It’s where I go to drink beer and relax when she has her girlfriends over.
The eighty-inch TV also happens to be perfect for watching porn in 4K.
“Please, Daddy? There’s so much room down there. I promise you
won’t even notice it.”
I highly doubt that. Brittany has a way of taking over any space she
occupies. I haven’t seen the kitchen table since before she decided to take
up yogurt-making. But the pleading in her eyes and her gorgeous smile win
me over. I sigh.
“Do you need help setting it up?”
She pushes the box toward the stairs. “No, thanks. I will need to borrow
your drill, though.”
I've raised my daughter to be as capable and self-sufficient as an
eighteen-year-old can possibly be. But there are some jobs only a father can
do—particularly those that require drilling holes in my ceiling.
I shoo Brittany out of the way and heft the box over my shoulder. “Go
grab my toolbox from the garage.”
Her smile is its own reward. “Thanks, Daddy.”
Setting up the pole takes a lot less time than I expected, but requires
drilling a few more holes than Brittany led me to believe.
“Why didn't you want to set this up at your mom's place?” I ask.
“Doesn’t she have a home gym?”
“Dave said I couldn't put holes in the ceiling,” she says. Dave being my
ex-wife’s new husband. “Besides, I don't want my stepdad gawking at me
while I work out.” She bumps me with her hip. “Only my real dad can do
that.”
I chuckle, but the glint in her eye gives me pause. There’s intention
behind it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was flirting with me. My
cock notices, too. I push the thought away, turning my attention to the pole.
“I think it’s stable,” I say. “Why don’t you try it out?”
Brittany grasps the pole, wrapping her right leg around it, then launches
herself into an impressive spin. She’s definitely been practicing.
“It’s perfect!” she squeals, grasping the bar with both hands and
spreading her toned legs in a wide vee. Her strength is a thing of beauty.
Brittany drops to her feet and pulls her phone from her pocket. A
moment later, there’s sensual, throbbing electronica playing from the
Bluetooth speakers.
“You’re going to dance now?”
“Sure, why not?” She motions for me to give her some room as she slips
off her shoes and then circles the pole. The bass picks up, though not too
fast. Brittany does another twirl, then holds on with her legs as she climbs
halfway up the pole.
I can’t take my eyes off her.
Instead of dropping to her feet, she spins all the way down to the floor,
then rolls to rest on her shoulder as her legs come up and spread.
“Goddamn,” I whisper, marveling at her flexibility.
Brittany spins, then uses the pole to pull herself to a standing position,
lips curved into a wide grin. Her movements are fluid, each one melding
seamlessly into the next. I can’t help staring at her hips as they pop and
sway to the music. My cock jumps in my cargo pants, and I pray she
doesn’t notice how tight they’re getting at the front.
“What do you think?” she asks as the song fades.
I let out a long, slow whistle. “Color me impressed.”
She claps excitedly. “Turn down the lights and grab a seat. I want to
show you what else I can do.”
I move quickly, dimming the lights in the rest of the basement so the
focus remains on her. Part of me knows damn well I should go back upstairs
and leave Brittany to have her fun, but that part of me is a hell of a lot
smaller than the part that wants to stay and watch my baby girl’s tight little
body do God knows what on the pole. I turn one of the armchairs to face
her and settle in, my hands clasped innocently in my lap to hide my chubby.
She swipes at her phone and a new song starts.
Brittany turns to face the pole, jutting her ass toward me and rocking it
to the beat. Without warning, she hooks her fingers into the belt loops on
her shorts and pulls. Down, down, down her legs they go, but my gaze is
locked on the lacy red thong and the tiny strip of fabric separating my little
girl’s pussy from her old man’s lust-filled gaze.
My cock goes hard as granite.
The beat picks up. She kicks her shorts aside and grasps the pole,
twirling and spinning, holding on with nothing but the muscles in her
gorgeous thighs. She flips upside down, and for a split second my Dad
instincts kick in and I want to warn her not to break her damn neck. But that
instinct dissolves as Brittany glides down to settle her hands on the floor
and performs a full-on split.
One of her shaved pussy lips slips out of her thong and I catch myself
groaning. Thankfully, the music is loud enough that I don’t think she hears
me. I’m not sure how much more of this I can watch before I have to touch
my cock, but standing up isn’t an option. Not with my cock at full salute.
Brittany makes her way to the floor where she lies facedown, then
pushes up onto her knees. Her green eyes catch mine and I pray she can’t
see the desire I feel while watching her. Slowly, she hooks the hem of her t-
shirt around her thumbs and pulls it up and overhead, revealing a matching
red bra.
My baby girl’s tits are big and luscious, and I can just make out the dark
rings of her nipples through the lace. I wonder what they taste like, and I
feel an ache of disappointment at the fact that I’ll most likely never find out.
She reaches for the bar behind her, then rises onto her feet, knees bent. Her
hips roll as she humps the air, that smooth, bare lip tempting me.
 She catches my gaze. My palms sweat. My dick pulses in time with the
music and my daughter’s movements. I’m going to have to either get up and
go jack off, or reach into my pocket and hope she doesn’t notice. Though
part of me wishes she would. She has to know what she’s doing. You can’t
do a striptease for a straight, hot-blooded man and not expect him to get
hard.
Brittany grabs the pole and spins, holding on with her arms as she
stretches her legs out behind her. Using her own momentum, she flips
upside down so that she’s parallel with the bar, then grabs on with those
incredible thighs. Hands free, she waves them in time with the music, then
reaches behind her.
The red bra pops off her tits and onto the floor.
My cock jumps. I salivate. Brittany winks, then grasps the pole between
her legs, rights herself and does a few more spins.
She did it on purpose. My baby wants to show me her tits.
I lean back in the chair and spread my knees, letting her see my bulge.
Brittany bites her lip as she lands on her feet, then leans against the pole as
she squeezes those lush, perfect tits. She pinches her bubblegum-pink
nipples. My hand moves with a mind of its own to rub my cock, drawing
her attention.
She licks her lips, turns around and bends over, then slides the thong
down her legs. She spreads her ass cheeks, revealing a tight little hole and a
slick, pink pussy.
I can’t fucking take it.
I reach for my belt. Down goes my zipper and out comes my cock, thick
and hard as a tree trunk.
The music fades and a new song starts, this one a little bit faster.
Brittany does a few more spins on the pole, spreading her legs and showing
off her not-so-private parts as I stroke myself up and down, while playing
with my balls. She slides to the floor with the pole between her thighs, then
slowly makes her way toward me on all fours.
My little girl kneels at my feet. She glides both hands up my thighs,
resting her tits in my lap. I pet her hair and then her face. She catches my
finger in her mouth. I suck air between my teeth as she licks and sucks my
fingers, then groan as she grasps my cock. I pull my hand away, giving her
mouth the freedom to do whatever the hell she pleases.
I gasp as she strokes me, her small hand barely fitting around my shaft
as she bends to place a kiss on the head. I assume she’s going to suck me
off, but she wraps her tits around my dick instead, pushing them together.
“Oh, fuck, sweetheart.” I reach down and thumb her gorgeous nipples.
“That’s so fucking hot.”
She moans softly as I tease her nipples, eyes drifting closed. Steadily,
she moves her tits up and down along my cock, tucking her chin to tongue
the head each time it pokes out the top.
The softness of my baby girl’s tits and the heat from her mouth has my
balls tightening and my cock throbbing like crazy. I’m going to come soon,
all over her perfect tits.
I thrust up, matching her down thrusts so that I’m fucking her as she’s
pleasuring me.
My hand fists in her hair as the pressure builds and the heat moves
through me. I come, the first spurt hitting her chin and mouth, the rest
splattering her chest and dripping down her breasts, coating her.
Brittany licks her lips and smiles. “Daddy, you taste good.”
As soon as she says it, I know I need to taste her, too. “Come here,
sweetheart.”
I take off my shirt and use it to clean up her tits before pulling her into
my lap. I lean forward to lick her nipples, then reach between her legs and
find her sopping. She moans as I slide three fingers inside her, pressing the
heel of my hand to her clit.
 “You made Daddy feel so good, sweetheart. Now it’s your turn.”
I fuck into her with my fingers, making sure to rub her clit at the same
time. She’s so horny and so wet that I’m able to add a fourth finger with
zero effort. I kiss her mouth and play with her tits. I make her come—twice
—her pussy flexing around my fingers as she moans.
As soon as my cock is hard again, I withdraw my hand and urge her to
stand.
“Grab the pole, Brittany. Spread your legs.”
“Are you going to fuck me, Daddy?” she asks, sounding nervous, but
hopeful.
“That’s right, sweetheart.” I place my hand on her back. “Bend over.”
She does as she’s told. I jerk my cock a couple of times and then slip the
head inside her. She’s so fucking wet. Grasping her hips, I slide inside,
meeting no resistance, and begin to thrust.
“Oh, God, Daddy!” Brittany moans and whimpers as I plow into her.
She’s obviously done this before, which is fine by me because it means I
can be as rough as I want and she’ll enjoy it.
I can hear the slapping of her ass against my pelvis over the music as I
ram her. Soon after, I feel her fingertips between her legs as she reaches
down to touch herself. The clenching of her pussy muscles is what gets me,
and how tightly she grips me as she’s about to come. I can’t hold back.
I come inside her.
“Oh, fuck, Daddy,” she pants. “Give it to me!”
My little girl pushes back, taking me deep as I thrust into her as hard as
I can. I thought I came buckets on her tits earlier, but that’s nothing
compared to the load I shoot inside her. Pulse after pulse, spurt after spurt.
It’s like I was saving up for this moment.
“There’s so much,” she says. “It’s running down my legs.”
I pull out, letting my cum form a puddle on the floor between her feet as
I drop back into the chair.
 Brittany stands up straight and stretches, her back muscles flexing.
Gorgeous. When she turns to face me, she’s smiling, her cheeks pink and
eyes heavy-lidded.
“Did you enjoy the show, Daddy?” she asks.
I shoot her a languid smile. “Hell yes, sweetheart. And you were right,
that pole was a great investment.”
“I knew you’d come around.” She settles onto my lap. “And you’ll see,
I’m only going to get better. I just have to keep practicing.”
I can’t imagine her getting better than she already is, but I can’t wait to
watch her try. Playfully, I pinch her nipple. “Be sure and save me a VIP seat
at your next performance.”
 Party Favors

M y sneakers scrape the asphalt as I step off the curb and onto my street.
My nose is frozen. It sucks not having a car. My parents refuse to buy me
one. They say it’s my responsibility to save up the money, but how am I
supposed to work enough to save when I’m also going to college?
Tonight I’m supposed to be hanging out with friends, including this guy,
Greg, who I’m sort of into. It seemed like he was into me, too, but then he
showed up with this other girl, so I bailed. I texted my friend to ask what
the hell was up, and supposedly he told her I wasn’t sexy enough.
Asshole. What the hell does he know?
To be fair, I don’t make a habit of highlighting my best features. I have
contacts, but I prefer glasses, and my everyday wardrobe consists of
leggings and baggy sweaters. My hair is naturally blond and falls just past
my waist, but I wear it up most of the time to keep it out of my face. It’s not
until after my parents go to bed that I take it all off, let my hair down, and
take loads of provocative selfies in my prettiest underwear.
Not to toot my own horn, but I’ve got a lot to work with: thirty-two Ds,
a slim hourglass figure, and soft, smooth, porcelain skin.
Of course, Greg will never find out about any of that now. Your loss,
motherfucker.
 I hurry up the driveway, past a car I don’t recognize, and enter the house
through the garage. As soon as I get inside, I remember I’m not supposed to
be here.
“Look at those tits,” my daddy’s friend Carl says.
His other friend, Max, chuckles. “Fuckin’ perfect.”
I try not to make noise as I shut the door behind me, but somebody’s
giant boot is in the way. I hear heavy footsteps, then, “What the hell are you
doing home?”
I turn to face my daddy. “Sorry. I’ll go hang out in my room—”
“Amy, you cannot be here,” he growls, his haze hard. “This is Doug’s
bachelor party. I told you I needed the house. You’re going to have to find
somewhere else to be.”
“Daddy, please, I promise I won’t come down—”
“Is she here, Dan?” My daddy’s old college friend Ronnie steps into the
kitchen. His pants look a lot tighter than I’m used to seeing them. He
notices me noticing his bulge and quickly slides a hand into his pocket.
“Oh, hey Amy. I didn’t know you’d be home tonight.”
“She’s just leaving,” Daddy says coldly.
“No, I’m not.” I grab a soda from the fridge and a bag of pretzels from
the cupboard. “I’m going to my room. Just pretend I’m not here.”
“Hey, guys, we have a problem.” Max comes in carrying his phone.
“The stripper fucking canceled.” He stops in his tracks. “Oh, uh... Hey,
Amy.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” my daddy snaps. “I put down a five-
hundred-dollar deposit on that bitch.”
My eyes go wide. “You paid some woman five hundred dollars to dance
around in her underwear? Hell, I’ll go rustle up my old Sailor Moon
costume for three.”
“That could work,” Max says with a smile. My daddy shoots him a
glare. He clears his throat. “No offense, little girl, but it takes more than a
sexy costume to work a crowd.”
“Come on,” I say. “It can’t be that hard.”
“You’d be surprised.” Ronnie smirks, pulling at his beard.
Daddy looks me up and down. “I think it’s safe to say you don’t have
what it takes, sweetheart. Now go to your room and don’t come out for a
good long while.”
“Unless you want to get an eyeful. Or a mouthful.” Max winks.
“Go sit the fuck down.” Daddy shoves Max and Ronnie out of the
kitchen while I glare at all of their backs.
Just like that asshole Greg, my daddy’s friends don’t think I can be sexy.
“I’ll show em,” I grumble. “I’ll put on the best show they’ve ever seen.”
I scurry up to my bedroom. I was kidding about wearing my Sailor
Moon costume, but I know I can’t go back down in a regular old bra and
panty set. Thankfully, I picked up an expensive little habit a few months
back involving designer lingerie.
No wonder I can’t afford wheels.
I put in my contact lenses, then dig out my hair straightener and my
makeup bag, putting on just enough to look dolled up without looking like a
Barbie doll. I settle on a black lace push-up bra with matching panties that
tie at the sides. Over that, I put on a short black skirt and a mesh cami that I
usually wear over tank tops. My cleavage is impressive, if I do say so
myself. I have to dip into my mom’s shoe collection for a pair of black
heels.
Slipping into the hall, I wait until the guys sound thoroughly distracted
and then creep downstairs. I connect my phone to the built-in Bluetooth
speakers in the living room and pick a song that I can dance to. I start with
the volume low, then gradually bring it up, hoping they’ll assume it’s part of
the porn they’re watching.
I peer through the slats in the railing to get a look at the room. My
daddy and Max and Ronnie are all seated on the couch. Doug, the groom-
to-be, sits in my daddy’s favorite chair, looking bored but doing his best to
hide it. Carl rests in the other lounger, his long hair pulled back into a bun. I
play with the dials by the doorframe, dimming the lights slowly and
increasing the music volume on my phone.
“What the hell?” Max glances in my direction. His jaw drops. “Dan—”
He nudges my daddy. “—check out your little girl.”
My daddy turns and gapes. He stands up. “What the hell do you think
you’re doing, Amy?”
I saunter into the room. “You guys don’t think I have what it takes to
work a crowd. I disagree.”
“I’ll say.” Doug—the handsomest one in the group, second only to my
daddy—wets his lips as his gaze sweeps across me, looking less and less
bored by the second.
Carl whistles. “Damn, Danny Boy. Your little girl’s all grown up.”
“You’ve made your point, Amy.” My daddy’s voice is more gravelly
than usual; it makes me shiver. “Now go back upstairs and put some clothes
on and don’t come down until I tell you to.”
“Aw, but what fun is a bachelor party without a stripper?” I strut into the
enclosed area created by the sofa and chairs, then walk a circle until I’m
standing in front of the groom-to-be.
“She’s got a point,” Doug says, wetting his mouth.
“She has no idea what she’s getting into,” my daddy snaps.
“What’s the matter?” I cock my hip. “Afraid I’ll prove you and your
buddies wrong?”
My daddy moves toward me. I stand my ground. He twirls a lock of my
hair around his finger, like he’s surprised to see it so smooth. “You want to
know why the stripper was so expensive, Amy? It’s because she’s not just a
stripper. She’s a call girl. And she gets paid a thousand bucks an hour to get
gangbanged at parties. Those are the shoes you’re trying to fill.”
 My throat tightens. Five hundred did seem high for a mere night of
dancing. Still, with money like that, I could easily afford a down payment
on a car loan.
“Eight hundred,” I say.
He squints. “Eight hundred what?”
“I’ll do it. For eight hundred an hour.”
My daddy smirks. “You really think you can handle this crowd?”
I glance around at his friends, most of whom I’ve known since I was in
braces. The lust in their eyes and the lumps in their pants makes me a little
uneasy, but at the end of the day it’s just sex. Peg A into slot B. It can’t be
that hard, can it?
“I can handle whatever you guys throw at me.”
Daddy’s gaze takes on a sharp edge. He sits back down on the couch
and waves his hand. “By all means, baby girl, entertain us.”
I glance around, making eye contact with each of my daddy’s friends
until the intensity in their stares is so hot and heavy that I have to look
away.
“Well,” Daddy snaps, “get on with it. I’m not paying you to stand
there.”
I start a new song and set my phone down, then begin to sway with the
music. I dance like I’m alone in my room, all hips and ass and bouncing
tits. Carl grins as I come to stand in front of him with my legs between his
knees.
“You are gorgeous, kiddo.” He slides a finger under my mesh cami,
pulling the fabric taut. I slap his hand away playfully, then turn and shake
my ass for him. He spanks me. I yelp.
The guys all chuckle. There’s still porn playing on the TV, but nobody’s
paying attention. They’re all watching me, and being at the center of so
much male attention makes my pussy throb.
 I make my way over to Max, who can’t stop rubbing himself through
his jeans. I hook my fingers into the sides of my skirt and slowly work it
down. He groans as I bend, touching my tits to his lap for the briefest of
moments while I step out of my skirt. I drop the skirt into his lap and then
return the center of the circle to dip low.
“Who knew she was hiding such a tight little body under those baggy
clothes,” Ronnie says. This next song is slower than the last, and I take the
opportunity to straddle Ronnie on the couch, beside my daddy, who watches
us closely.
I take Ronnie’s hands and place them on my hips as I grind over his
cock to the music. I hadn’t thought doing this would turn me on so much,
but the pressure from his erection against my crotch is kind of amazing. I
close my eyes and let my head fall back as I rock. Ronnie moans softly.
“Fuck, Amy, your tits are enormous,” he says.
“You like them?” I ask playfully, moving his hands from my hips to my
breasts. He sucks air between his teeth as he squeezes. His cock jumps. I
glance over at my daddy, whose gaze is fixed on Ronnie’s hands on my
chest. “You want to see them, Ronnie?”
My daddy looks at me, his jaw clenched. I smirk.
He really doesn’t like being proved wrong.
“God, yes,” Ronnie says.
I pull my shirt off and then make a show of unhooking my bra. Ronnie
pulls it off, and I swear his cock doubles in size beneath me.
“Oh, baby, look at those.” Ronnie cups my tits and thumbs my nipples. I
bite my lip to stifle a whine. It feels too damn good. He leans down and
takes a nipple into his mouth. I gasp. It makes me want to touch myself.
“Goddamn, Amy,” Doug says. “I could come just from watching you.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” my daddy haughtily. “After all, you’re the man
of the hour.”
 Technically, he’s right. If anyone gets to fuck me first, it should be
Doug. I give Ronnie a peck on the lips, then extricate myself from his hold.
He groans in protest, but releases me like a good pal should.
I dance in the middle for a minute, shaking and jiggling my breasts for
their amusement. Carl licks his lips. He’s got his cock out, and damn if it
isn’t the biggest dick I’ve seen in a long while.
My pussy aches. I rest my hands on Doug’s thighs, shaking my ass for
the group and pushing my breasts together for him. He exhales slowly. I
turn and sit in his lap, grinding my ass onto his erection—also impressive.
My daddy’s friends are all delightfully well-hung. His hands come around
to squeeze my tits.
“You like having your nipples played with?” he whispers in my ear. It’s
so intimate, his breath on my neck, that it gives me goosebumps.
“I do,” I say.
Doug strums my nipples. My clit pulses and my pussy clenches. I had
hoped to draw out the dance a bit longer, but damn if I can’t wait another
minute to get fucked. Rising from Doug’s lap, I turn to face him, presenting
him with the ties on either side of my panties.
“Will you do the honors?”
He smiles. “Absofuckinlutely.” He pulls and my panties come apart,
exposing me to the room.
Max woops. Ronnie groans. Carl swears under his breath.
My daddy says nothing, just stares, his expression unreadable.
Whatever. I have work to do.
“How do you want me, Doug?” I ask.
He looks around frantically. So many holes, so many options. “From
behind.”
“Good choice.” I drop to my knees on the carpet and then look back.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
 Doug joins me on the floor, his hands fumbling with his belt. He gets
his cock out—a nice, thick shaft ending in a bright-pink head—and jerks it
a couple times before he positions himself.
“You sure about this Dan?” he asks my daddy.
“She’s all yours, bud.”
I cry out as Doug pushes inside me, his hands grasping my hips. I close
my eyes and focus on the feeling of being filled and stretched. My clit
pulses, desperate for attention. I reach down to rub myself, then feel a hand
close over mine.
“Allow me,” Max says.
Max strums my clit as another set of hands—Ronnie’s this time—stroke
my nipples. Both men have their cocks out, and the sight of so many
erections makes me a little nervous. They can’t possibly expect me to take
more than one at a time.
Just then, Carl’s hand fists in my hair, as he guides his cock to my
mouth.
“You can handle two of us, can’t you, Amy?” he asks, forcing his cock
between my lips. “Fuck, I hope so, because that feels good.”
I’ve seen women handle multiple cocks at once in porn, but never
thought I’d be in a position to do it myself. I feel like a sex doll, or a
machine made for the sole purpose of giving and receiving pleasure. I
expected to make these guys come. I didn’t expect to come myself. But I’m
going to. Any second now...
Holy fucking fuck.
My pussy tightens around Doug’s cock. My clit pulses under Max’s
fingers. Daddy tells Doug not to come in me, and within seconds, Doug
yanks his cock out and comes all over my ass.
“Jesus, fuck,” Doug rasps.
Another wave of pleasure hits me. I moan around Carl’s shaft. He
swears and pulls my hair as he blows his load down my throat. I swallow
because if I don’t, I’ll choke.
My pussy clenches and releases, clenches and releases.
Then I feel it being filled again.
“Oh my God.” Ronnie spanks my ass. “Danny Boy, your girl is a
natural.” His cock is thicker than Doug’s, and it hurts a little going in. He
starts to fuck me, pulling my hips back to meet his thrusts.
A hand cups my chin and another cock breaches my lips. Max’s cock. It
slides across my tongue.
“Shit, Amy.” Max pants. “I remember when you were little and you
used to play in my garage. I had to tell you not to mess around with the
power tools. Now you’re sucking my cock.”
Ronnie pulls me upright. Max follows, standing so I can continue to
suck his cock, while Ronnie digs a tunnel inside me. His dick slips out a
few times. The third time, he tries to put it back and misses, then prods my
asshole instead.
I squeal around Max’s cock.
“Have you ever had a cock in your ass before, Amy?” Ronnie asks. I
shake my head. “Then you’re in for a treat.”
I try and wriggle away, but Ronnie has me pinned. His cock pushes into
my asshole, and I feel the urge to bear down.
“Shhh.” Max pets my face. “Just relax and take it like the good little
whore you are.”
I’ve never been called a whore before. Part of me kind of likes it. The
head of Ronnie’s cock eases deeper, followed by his thick shaft. He’s slick
from having been inside my pussy. My knees tremble. He fucks my ass
slowly as Max picks up the pace in my mouth. Holding my face with both
hands, he thrusts in and out, his cock leaking precum down my throat. He
doesn’t force me to take more than I can handle, but he does test me, and
soon I’m taking more than I ever thought I could.
“Oh, fuck,” Max rasps. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming...”
 Max’s salty heat fills my mouth. Ronnie’s pelvis spanks my ass as he
pounds into me. Max steps back, and I have to brace my elbows on the
carpet to stop Ronnie from knocking me over. I rest my forehead on the
floor.
“Aw, shit. Fuck!” Ronnie comes in sharp stabs and spurts. As soon as he
pulls out, I feel a line of cum trickle down my leg. “Goddamn, that was
wonderful.”
A rush of satisfaction zips through me. That’s it, I did it. I proved them
all wrong. Rolling onto my back, I smile up at the ceiling and think about
how good it’s going to feel to not have to walk everywhere from now on.
“My turn,” Daddy says.
My whole body freezes. Daddy stands over me with his arms at his
sides and his pants unzipped. His cock is hard and straining the front of his
boxers.
“What?” My voice trembles.
“Hold her down,” he says.
The guys share cautious glances, but ultimately, they do as they’re told.
I struggle against their hands as my daddy kneels on the floor between my
legs.
“But Daddy, I’m your... You’re my... You can’t!”
“You think I’m going to watch you fuck these guys and then go jerk off
like some teenager? Hell no. I’m the one paying eight hundred dollars an
hour to rent that pussy. I’ve got every right to take a turn myself.”
To my surprise, he drops down lower, bringing his mouth to my pussy.
He spreads my lips with his fingers and licks my clit. I shiver as a flood of
tingles enters my bloodstream, making my nipples harden. Ronnie takes
notice. He lets go of my arm to pinch and flick my nipples while my daddy
eats me out.
I can’t believe this is happening, right here on my living room floor. The
place where I watch cartoons and open Christmas presents. He sucks the
tender bud between his lips. I buck, pushing my pussy toward him. It feels
incredible. He teases me with the tip of his tongue, and then licks and licks
until I’m close to coming, then stops.
If he doesn’t let me come, I’m going to go insane.
“Daddy, please...”
He kisses my clit. “Please, what?”
“Please let me come.”
“I’m not going to let you come until I’m inside you.”
“But...we can’t...” I don’t want to give in. Rather, I shouldn’t want to
give in. But fuck if I don’t want him to fuck my brains out. “Please don’t
make me say it...”
“You have to say it.”
He drags a flattened tongue from my asshole to my clit.
Fuck it. I’ve come this far.
“Oh, please, fuck me, Daddy! I need you to fuck me now!”
He rises to his knees with a triumphant smile. “I thought you’d never
ask.”
I watch him pull his cock out, long and thick and slightly curved. He
strokes it a few times before bringing it to my lips and then thrusting.
“Fuck!” I moan as he enters me. The guys lift their hands away, assured
that I’m not going anywhere now that I’ve begged my daddy to fuck me—
all except Ronnie, who can’t keep his greedy paws off my tits.
“Goddamn,” Max says. “That’s twisted.”
Dough whistles. “Hot as fuck, though.”
I watch them watching me as my daddy’s cock pounds my pussy. I have
a feeling at least two of them are going to want another turn when he’s
through. After a few moments, I feel that familiar pressure pooling behind
my clit.
Daddy pulls my legs over his thighs and sits up so he can rub my clit
with his thumb. It’s all I need to drag me back to the brink. My muscles
clench around him, and I know he can feel them by the way his features
scrunch into a look of determination. My knees twitch.
“Come for me, Amy,” he says. “Come for Daddy.”
I don’t fight the rush when it comes, fluttering over me like a thousand
butterfly wings. A deep throb echoes outward from my clit, and I swear that
I can feel the pulsing in my bones. Daddy grunts and groans as he pummels
my pussy, trying to hold back, trying to hold on...
“Jesus, Amy.” He comes inside me, filling me with spurt after spurt of
his hot, thick cum. “I fucking love your pussy.”
And my pussy loves him. As much as I hate to admit it, I can’t imagine
never letting him do this again. I can’t imagine never letting any of them
touch me again. Even groom-to-be Doug, who I’m sure loves his fiancée
very much, could show up next week and ask me to fuck him, and I’d
gladly sit on his cock. This has been the hottest, dirtiest, stickiest, and most
sexually fulfilling night of my young life.
No wonder people do this for a living.
“So,” I say, gazing up at the five men whose cocks I’ve just milked and
sucked. “Next time one of you needs to hire a dancing call girl, you know
where to find me.”
 Hard Drive

I t ’ s my last week of high school, and all I have left to do is write one final
paper, a paper I’ve spent the past two weeks compiling research for. I crack
my knuckles and take a long sip of cold green tea. I’m about to start typing
when my laptop screen freaks the fuck out and the screen goes black.
“No.” I hit the power button. “No, no, no. Not now.”
I check the power cable. Plugged in. I check the outlet. Working
perfectly.
It’s my laptop. It’s dead. I’ve been holding off on buying a new one
because I think my parents are going to surprise me with a Mac for
graduation. But that hypothetical computer can’t save me now.
The biggest paper of my high school career is due tomorrow and I don’t
have a computer.
“Shit. Motherfucker fuck shit!” I slam the lid down and fight back tears.
This cannot be happening. I’ve worked my ass off this entire year in the
hopes of pulling my GPA up to a 3.9, and now I’m going to have to ask my
teacher for an extension. That’s an automatic ten-point deduction. But what
else can I do?
I slump back onto the couch and scream. I scream so loud that the cats
flee to the basement. Thankfully, I'm the only one home. It occurs to me
that I could use my mom’s laptop. But she probably took it with her to the
university where she works. Daddy has a computer in his office upstairs.
It’s an old clunky desktop, but it has Internet access and a printer.
It’s my only hope.
I sprint upstairs to my daddy’s home office and take a seat in his creaky
leather chair. The computer takes forever to start up, and once it does, I find
myself staring at a login screen.
The damn thing is password protected.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” My hands shake with
frustration as my fingers fly across the keys. I try the names of our cats. No
dice. I try his birthday and Mom’s birthday. Those don’t work either. I try
my birthday, but accidentally type the current year instead of the year I was
born.
It works. My daddy’s password is my eighteenth birthday.
How odd.
Too flustered to think much of it, I open a blank word document and an
Internet browser. I’m about to pull up my cloud drive so I can access my
research materials when a strange URL appears in the suggested site list
beneath the address bar.
It’s a URL to a popular porn streaming site. On my daddy's computer.
Curiosity makes my clit tingle. I click the link.
A video loads titled, “Barely legal redhead gets her pussy eaten and
fucked hard.” I gasp as the cute, ginger-haired teen appears on the screen.
She looks like me. Maybe a little thinner and with slightly bigger tits, but
the resemblance is undeniable. She shakes her ass for the camera as some
guy spanks it. He licks her nipples. My pussy throbs as he positions her on
the bed so he can eat her out.
This is what my daddy jerks off to?
I click over to his history and begin scrolling. There are links to sites
and videos going back months, and the sex acts get more and more
depraved as I scroll down the rabbit hole. Redheads getting their asses eaten
and fucked, girls who look like me getting slapped and tied up. There’s one
where a girl is getting fucked by three guys, one in each hole.
Then, there’s the one that makes my heart stop.
An older man is sitting on a couch with a girl who’s young enough to be
his daughter. Though she’s clearly old enough to be doing porn, she’s
dressed like a child: short pink skirt, white knee socks and Velcro shoes. He
puts his arm around her and tickles her, then kisses her on the mouth. He
bats her nervous hands away as he unbuttons her sweater.
My pulse tap-tap-taps at my throat like it’s telling me this is a bad idea.
But I can’t take my eyes off the screen. I catch myself rocking in place,
pressing my pussy against the leather seat. The man in the video toys with
the girl’s nipples. My own nipples harden. She whimpers and calls him
Daddy, and suddenly, I have to touch myself.
Snaking my hand between my legs, I rub my clit through my clothes.
The man slides his hand up the girl’s skirt. She spreads her knees. Her
panties are white and her pussy is shaved. I press on my own clit as he rubs
hers. The pressure over my clothes isn’t enough. I have to use my fingers. I
slide my leggings and underwear down to my ankles and drape one leg over
the armrest. My pussy is soaked and my clit is so sensitive I cry out a little
when I touch it.
I pinch my nipples through my shirt as the man takes the girl’s tit into
his mouth. Again, she calls him Daddy. Please, Daddy. That feels so good,
Daddy. Yes, lick my pussy, Daddy. At some point, my eyes close and my
head falls back, as my mind replaces the man in the video with my own
daddy. I see my daddy’s lips on my nipples, his hands on my hips, his
tongue painting a warm, wet trail down my chest and belly to the hard little
nub between my legs—
“Becca, what are you watching?”
My eyes snap open. I scramble to shut off the video and accidentally
switch it to fullscreen. The man thrusts his fingers in and out of the girl’s
pussy. I fight back tears of embarrassment. I manage to stop the video, but
not before my daddy comes around the desk and sees me, pants and panties
down, my bare ass sitting in his desk chair.
His expression is a mixture of shock and mortification. He reaches past
me to shut off the monitor.
“I thought you weren’t coming home ’til after nine,” I snap, fighting to
get my leggings back over my hips without letting him see how wet I am.
“I finished my meeting early. What are you doing using my computer?”
“My laptop crashed and won’t turn back on. I need to write my paper.”
“Is your paper about porn?”
My face feels as if it could catch fire. “Daddy...” As I say the word, I
feel the echoes of arousal resounding throughout my body. “Why do all the
girls in those videos have red hair?”
“What videos?” He scrubs at his short-cropped beard, a nervous tick. He
knows exactly what videos I’m talking about.
“The redheads in your browser history. They look like me.”
“That’s ridiculous, Becca.”
Now, I’m pissed. It would be one thing if I’d gone searching for porn of
my own volition, but I stumbled across this stuff. These are the videos HE
watches to get off on, not something I went looking for.
“It’s not ridiculous at all.” I turn the screen monitor on. A close-up of
the girl’s father licking her clit appears on the screen. I hit Play, then pause
on a frame that shows both of them. “See? She looks like me. Same age and
everything.”
“Guys watch a lot of porn, sweetheart, and lots of porn stars are
redheads. It’s a coincidence.”
I open his browsing history and start clicking through video after video
of naked, barely-legal redheads. In cars, in public bathrooms, on their knees
and bent over with their asses in the air. “You call this a coincidence,
Daddy?”
 The girl in the current video soaps her tits in the bath as her “daddy”
tells her how beautiful she is from behind the camera. He hands her a
rubber duckie which is actually a vibrator. She uses it on her nipples.
“Daddy, that makes my pussy tingle,” she cries.
I hit pause. My own daddy’s face blanches.
“Just what exactly are you getting at, Becca?”
A fair question. I know the answer, but I’m embarrassed to admit it. I
feel like I’m eight years old again, scared and small, wishing I didn’t have
to tell Daddy I wet the bed. But I’m not small, and though I am scared, I’m
also old enough to know that you shouldn’t let fear control you.
“Do you think about me when you jerk off?” My voice sounds meeker
than I intended. I meet my daddy’s gaze.
“Do you?” he asks, dodging the question. “As a matter of fact, you were
touching yourself when I came in.”
“I was just...curious” I cross my legs reflexively.
“Curious about the kind of porn I watch?” He reaches across me to un-
pause the video. His suit jacket brushes my hand, and I can’t help breathing
in his scent, cologne and coffee and the day’s sweat. He steps around the
chair and rests his hands on my shoulders. “Does this turn you on, Becca?”
The girl’s mouth forms a perfect O as the man playing her father glides
the vibrating duck over her soapy nipples. My own nipples tighten into
points inside my t-shirt. Thinking about my own daddy giving me a bath
makes my pulse flutter and my clit throb.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“Does it make you want to play with your tits?”
As soon as he says it, my nipples start to ache, and it’s all I can think
about. A whimper floats from my mouth. “Yes.”
“Go ahead then, sweetheart. Touch them.”
My hands move as though someone else is controlling them, some
horny, perverted person inside me who wants to show my daddy the things I
do when I’m alone. I lift and cup my breasts through my t-shirt. I pinch and
stroke my nipples. Daddy’s hands tighten on my shoulders. I wonder what
his face looks like, but I keep my eyes on the screen.
The man touches the vibrating duck to the girl’s clit. She moans. I strum
my nipples and my clit pulses like the three points are connected. Pinch or
stroke one, and the others feel it. I hump the chair and it creaks. Daddy
starts to massage my shoulders, working his thumbs into the tight muscles.
My moans join those coming from the girl on the computer screen. I slide
my hands beneath my shirt so I can apply more direct pressure. My skin is
soft, my breasts a perfect handful.
“Lift your arms,” Daddy says, and I do. He pulls my shirt off.
I’m topless in my daddy’s office.
He sweeps my hair back before returning his hands to my shoulders.
“Don’t stop, Becca.”
I tease my nipples. The girl on the screen spreads her legs so the man
playing her daddy can show the viewer her pussy. He spreads her lips and
strokes her clit. He slides a finger inside her. I grind my clit against the
cushion, not nearly firm enough to make me come, but enough that my
pussy feels like it’s invited to the party my tits are having.
Daddy’s hands glide down my chest to join mine. I gasp, cradling my
breasts as he pinches my nipples. We trade off, taking turns squeezing and
strumming, stroking and pinching. He has to bend over slightly to reach,
and I feel his breath wash over my tits with each exhale.
The video cuts off just as the girl is about to come, displaying a link to
paid content. Daddy reaches over me to grasp the mouse.
“Try this one,” he says, choosing another clip from the streaming site.
A redhead in pigtails and knee-high socks sits astride a man's pelvis. His
cock is hard and slick, wedged between her pussy lips. She rubs herself
back and forth along him, calls him Daddy, tells him it feels so good. He
tells her she’s beautiful, that he loves watching her ride him. I wish I had
something firm and slippery to rub against. Just thinking about how easily
he could slip inside her, accidentally or on-purpose, makes me moan.
“You like this one,” my daddy says. I nod. “Does it make you want to
finger yourself?”
I nod again. “So much.”
“Take off your leggings. Show Daddy how you play with your pussy.”
I slide my leggings and panties off, then spread my legs. My pussy lips
glisten, glazed with my juices in the light from the screen. I run two fingers
along my slit and then begin drawing circles over my clit.
“Oh, god.” I rub faster; it feels so fucking good.
The girl on the screen strokes the spot on the man's cock where the shaft
meets the head. He groans. The sound eggs me on, makes me want to do
things that would have my daddy making those kinds of noises.
Daddy continues to play with my nipples as I finger myself. The
combination is delightful. I've made out with boys, even let a few of them
put their hands under my shirt, but none have made me feel this good. It's
like Daddy instinctively knows which areas are most sensitive, and how
best to tease them. No wonder he and Mom are still together.
“Hold up your fingers,” Daddy says. “Let me see how wet you are.”
I hold my glossy fingers up for him to see.
“Fuck, that does it.” He lets go of my breasts and comes to stand beside
me. He removes his suit jacket. The sight of the bulge in his pants makes
my breath catch. “Stand up, sweetheart. Daddy needs to sit.”
I rise and let him take my place in the chair. My hands move to cover
my pussy, no doubt out of some innate sense of modesty. Silly, but I can’t
help myself. He takes both my hands and draws me onto his lap, facing the
computer screen. He fits his legs between mine so he can spread my thighs
by parting his knees. His cock is firm yet springy under my ass, and the
thought crosses my mind: Daddy is hard because of me.
 His hand comes around to grasp the mouse. He opens the file explorer
and then clicks around until he reaches a folder buried deep in the bowels of
his hard drive. The file names appear to be a random mishmash of letters
and numbers, but he seems to know which video he’s looking for.
“Watch this one,” he says, double-clicking.
The video opens on a man’s face as he holds up what looks to be a
family Christmas photo for the camera. The faces of the mom and son have
been blacked out, along with the family’s last name. Only the man’s face
and the face of an older teen girl are left visible.
Judging by the couch and the decorated tree in the background of the
photo, it looks like a real holiday portrait. Even the family cat is present. He
steps back to reveal what appears to be an actual working kitchen rather
than a set. There are dishes in the sink and stained hand towels hanging by
the oven. A girl about my age sits at the table behind him.
Sure enough, it’s the girl from the photo.
My eyes go wide. “Is this...are they...?”
“Yes,” Daddy says. “This is real.”
The man is balding with a slight paunch. His daughter is adorably
chubby with a pinched nose and messy red hair. These are real people, not
porn stars, and knowing that what I’m about to see isn’t an act makes the
whole thing hotter than any perfectly lit, staged production could ever hope
to be. The man and his daughter start kissing. She rubs the bulge in his
shorts as he gropes her breasts.
I gasp as my daddy wets his fingertips at my opening and then spreads
my juices over my clit. The girl’s top comes off, and her tits are gorgeous,
full and natural. Her father tells her she’s beautiful, then licks and sucks her
nipples. My own daddy thumbs my nipple as his fingers work their magic
on my clit. I stare at the screen, riveted.
The man pulls out a kitchen chair and sits. His daughter drops to her
knees on the stained linoleum and shimmies the front of her dad’s shorts
down his thighs. She smiles playfully up at him as she tickles his balls and
pumps his cock with her fist. He strokes her face as she takes him into her
mouth, calling her his favorite girl.
My daddy’s fingers on my clit have me rocking my hips back and forth.
I cling to his pants like a child gripping a security blanket. Sitting on his lap
takes me back to simpler, more innocent times, though there's nothing
simple or innocent about what we're doing. I thrust my pussy toward his
hand as he rubs me faster. I can feel the pressure building, the tightening of
my internal muscles.
The girl in the video takes her father’s cock between her breasts. She
bounces up and down, jerking her daddy off between her tits. He groans
loudly and grasps the base of his cock. The adoration in her eyes is what
does me in, more so than the sex. She's looking at him as if he's the sun and
moon and stars. Like he's the only man she will ever love, a man made just
for her.
I feel my daddy's love for me in the way he strokes my clit and kisses
my neck. He wants to make me feel good. He wants me—all of me—and I
want to give it all to him. Things I’ve never given anyone.
On screen, the man comes all over his daughter’s breasts. She rubs the
stuff into her skin, onto her nipples. It’s so fucking hot.
“Oh, shit,” I whine. “Oh, shit, Daddy, oh!”
I come hard and sharp like lightning. A shock to the system, a splash of
cold water on a hot day. My pussy clenches like a fist, so tight I’m
convinced I’m going to implode. All at once, the reality of the situation
sinks in: my daddy has just made me come. It’s so dirty. I'm dirty. Yet
somehow, it doesn't feel wrong.
He kisses my ear as I go limp in his arms.
“Did that feel good, baby girl?”
So good, I think. Too good. “Yes, Daddy.”
 He starts another video. This one opens on a girl's bedroom. Purple
sheets and bookshelves, a stuffed teddy on the bed. A naked, dark-haired
teen with glasses climbs on the bed on her hands and knees. A man with
silver in his beard, who I assume is her father, comes to kneel behind her.
He squeezes and slaps her ass, then bends to bite it. The girl yelps.
My daddy pets my pussy. I start to feel tingly all over again. But instead
of simply wetting his fingertips at my opening, he slides two of them into
my pussy. I whimper.
“Jesus, Becca, you're tight.” He spreads his fingers inside me, like he's
testing how far I can stretch. “Don’t tell me you've never had a cock inside
you.”
“I've never had anything inside me.”
“Not even tampons?”
I shake my head. “I tried once, but it hurt too much.” Frankly, the fact
that he’s able to get his fingers inside me at all is a miracle. I suppose it’s a
lot easier to slip things into you when you’re sopping.
The man on the screen wedges his face between his daughter’s ass
cheeks. She moans.
“What is he licking?” I ask.
“Looks like he’s eating her ass.” Daddy curls his fingers inside me.
Whatever he’s rubbing against makes me feel like I have to pee. “Does it
turn you on?”
“I don’t know...” It’s a lie. Everything about this turns me on.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out. Stand up, baby girl.”
I rise on wobbly legs. Daddy bends me over so that my elbows are
resting on the desk and my back is arched. The position places my face
close to the screen. He rolls the chair out of the way and kneels behind me.
I feel his fingers on the backs of my thighs.
My pulse spikes as he spreads my cheeks apart and licks me, starting at
my clit and ending at my tailbone. Each lap sends delicious tingles zooming
throughout my nervous system. I'm caught between closing my eyes to
savor the pleasure and watching the rest of the video. The girl moans. I
moan with her as my daddy’s tongue circles the tight, puckered hole. It feels
so good that it has to be bad, and then it feels so bad that it’s good again.
His fingers find my clit. The father on the screen straightens up and
aims his hard, fat cock between his daughter’s legs. He asks her if she’s
ready. She says yes. He thrusts inside her, and I find myself pushing back
onto my daddy’s tongue. The look of total abandon on the girl’s face tells
me she's loving this. She wants her daddy to fuck her.
Just like I want to fuck mine.
He plants a gentle kiss on my puckered hole and then stands up, his
erection poking at me through his trousers. “God, I want you so bad,
sweetheart.” He smooths a hand up my back. “Say it. Say you want me to
fuck you.”
It’s not a matter of want anymore.
“I need you to fuck me, Daddy. I need you to put your fat cock in my
pussy.”
He hums with approval. “How could I say no to that?”
The clink of his belt buckle and the purr of his zipper send shivers up
my spine. I gasp as he glides the head of his cock along my slit. It’s so
warm, the skin surprisingly soft. As soon as he starts to push inside me, I
realize how hard he really is.
“Try and relax, Becca.” He pets the back of my head. “I promise it’ll
feel better once you get used to it.”
I clench my teeth against the ache, against the tension in my pussy, as
his cock pushes deeper and deeper inside me. I’m slick enough that the only
pain I feel is from being stretched rather than chafing. He bottoms out and
then stays there, his breathing loud and labored.
The man on the screen pounds into his daughter. Clearly, this isn’t the
first time they’ve done this.
 “I’m going to start slow,” my daddy says. “You tell me when to speed
up, okay?”
I can already feel the ache subsiding in my pussy. He moves with
patience and precision. Every thrust makes me moan. Pretty soon, I’m
bearing down in anticipation, wanting him to fill me up, eager to feel him
lose control.
“Faster, Daddy.” I glance over my shoulder. The lust in his gaze makes
my clit throb. “I can take it.”
He grips my hips as he picks up the pace, smacking my ass with his
pelvis. I brace myself against the desk. The man in the video pulls out of his
daughter’s pussy to come on her back. I wonder if my daddy is planning to
pull out when he comes. The responsible part of me hopes he does, while
the horny, perverted part hopes he’s too caught up in enjoying my body to
care.
I feel a slight pressure on my asshole. He must be pushing on it with his
thumb. With his other hand, he reaches around to stroke my clit as he
moves inside me.
In less than a minute, I feel another earth-shattering orgasm coming on.
“Daddy, it’s too much...I can’t...”
“I’m right here, Becca. It’s all right. Daddy’s here for you.”
A string of half-words and garbled gibberish pours from my mouth as
the pleasure boils over. I’ve never had something so big and hard inside me
when I’ve come. It’s like I’m being impaled. The muscles in my legs twitch
and spasm. Daddy holds me in place as best he can as he drags out my
orgasm. Even as I try and ease him off, he continues to stroke me, forcing
my tender clit to endure more pleasure than it's used to.
My daddy fucks me hard and fast, until I feel him swell inside me.
Then, he slows. His cock slams into me, once, twice, three times. I’m
convinced I can feel him pulsing, filling my pussy with cum.
 “Jesus Becca,” he rasps. He smooths his hands up and down my sides,
cupping my breasts with each pass. Eventually, his cock softens enough that
it slips out.
I hear the wheels of his desk chair as he drags it closer, the creak and
groan as he sits. Wet heat runs down my leg onto the hardwood. My daddy
pulls me onto his lap, one arm around my waist, the other across my
breasts.
We sit quietly for a moment, panting, resting, long after the video has
ended.
“Don’t you have a paper to write?” he asks. I let out a long groan. He
squeezes my breast and nips my shoulder, then says, “Tell you what,
sweetheart. You write that paper tonight, and tomorrow, Daddy will show
you the other filthy treasures he has hidden on his hard drive.”
 Bumpy Ride

“I t ’ s not going to fit ,” Mom says. “I told you not to pack the big
suitcase, Jen.”
“How else was I going to cart all my books to college?” I wedge my
oversized sweatshirt into the tiny bit of space between my other suitcases
inside the trunk of my dad’s SUV.
“Don’t worry,” my dad says. “I’ll make it fit.” He turns the trunk
sideways and then hefts it into the backseat. Finally, it fits.
“Great.” Mom rolls her eyes. “Now, once we pick up grandma, we’ll
only have three seats for four passengers.”
Unfortunately, she’s right. I had forgotten my parents were planning on
bringing my grandmother to Tucson for the weekend after they drop me off
in Phoenix.
“Jenny can sit on my lap,” Dad says. “It’ll be like old times, when we
had the two-seater.”
“That’s not safe, Mark.” Mom ties her bleach-blond hair into a high
ponytail. I don’t know why she insists on dying it such an unnatural color.
My own honey-blond hair hangs long and wavy past my shoulders. Daddy
runs his fingers through it, an old habit I’ve never had the heart to make
him break, even though it makes me feel like a little girl.
 “Jenny might be eighteen,” he says, “but she’s still pretty little. I’m sure
we can get the seatbelt around both of us.”
It’s true, I am little. Barely five-foot-two and thin enough to fit into
clothes I’ve had since my freshman year of high school. My bra size is just
about the only thing that’s changed since then, and even that isn’t anything
to brag about, in my opinion.
“Fine.” Mom sighs and turns to me. “Go make sure you haven’t
forgotten anything so we can hit the road.”
After saying goodbye to the room that’s been my own since I was five
years old, I climb into the backseat and settle in for the hour-long ride to
Grandma’s. I slip in my earbuds so I don’t have to listen to Mom and Dad
talking about boring stuff like work and taxes. One Taylor Swift album
later, we pull up in front of Grandma’s complex at the retirement village.
Mom goes inside to get Grandma while Dad and I reconfigure ourselves
in the car.
“It’ll probably work best if I get in first,” he says.
I wait for him to get settled, then maneuver myself onto his lap. We try
out a few different leg positions, ending with his legs together and mine
resting open alongside his. It’s awkward, especially since I happen to be
wearing a skirt, but we manage to get the seatbelt around both of us.
“Are you comfortable enough, sweetheart?” he asks from over my
shoulder. “Feel free to lean back if you have to. You won’t crush me.”
I let myself relax against him. He’s so big and warm and comforting. I
might actually be able to get some sleep on the long drive ahead.
Mom returns with Grandma. We say our Hellos and How Are Yous as
Mom helps her get settled into the passenger’s seat. After a quick bathroom
check, we set off for the highway.
The first hour of our trip goes smoothly, no detours or road
construction, but as we travel down Route 10, we start to hit delays. It’s still
technically summer, the season for road work. At some point, we hit
scarified pavement that vibrates the car and makes me bounce up and down
on my dad’s lap.
“You guys doing okay back there?” Mom asks.
I expect Daddy to answer for us, but he keeps silent. Then I notice his
hand white-knuckling the roof handle beside the door.
“We’re fine,” I say.
Mom and Grandma continue their conversation as we hit another patch
of bumpy roadway. Daddy’s legs tense beneath me. I wonder if he has to
use the bathroom.
“Do you need to get out, Daddy?” I ask quietly.
“Nope.” He pats my outer thigh. “I’m good.”
There’s something odd about his response, like his voice is strained
from exertion. But he’s not doing much of anything, other than serving as
my human seat cushion. Maybe I am too heavy for him.
“Are you sure?” I ask. “We can take a break if I’m crushing you.”
He runs his fingers through my hair. “You’re fine, sweetheart. Don’t
worry about me one bit.”
I slip my earbuds in and try and relax against my dad’s chest. After a
few minutes, we hit more scarified pavement, and from what I can see
through the windshield, it’s not going to let up for a good long while. I try
and get comfortable again, but something in my dad’s pocket keeps
prodding me.
“Daddy, can you take that thing out of your pocket?” He doesn’t say
anything or move. “Daddy?”
“Um...sure. Sit up for a sec.”
He unbuckles us, and the car makes an annoying dinging sound.
“Everything okay back there?” Mom asks.
“Yep, everything’s fine,” Dad says. I grasp the roof handle and lift
myself. A pothole jostles the car. My dad’s arm wraps around my waist and
pulls me back down to stop me from lunging into the back of Grandma’s
seat. The hard thing in his pocket is still there. In fact, it feels bigger than
before.
“Mark,” says Mom, “I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you guys were
buckled in.”
“Fine.” He hands me the seatbelt so I can wrap it around us.
My skirt is bunched unevenly beneath me from when he pulled me
down, and the only way to fix it is to either sit up and smooth it, or tease it
out from under my behind.
“Daddy, can you help me fix my skirt real quick?”
“What do you need?” He sounds agitated.
“Just pull it back for now.”
I feel my skirt slip out from underneath me. Unfortunately, my shorts
are packed away with the rest of my clothes, so the only thing I have on is a
pair of bikini-style underwear. My dad’s jeans feel scratchy on my bare
skin. I shift uncomfortably.
“Jenny, please...” He squeezes my waist. “You have to stop wriggling.”
“What is that in your pocket, Daddy?” I wedge my hand between us.
“No,” he whispers, “Jenny, don’t—”
His whole body tenses as I curve my fingers around the rod-shaped
thing in his pants. My breath catches as I realize the thing I’m holding isn’t
in his pocket. It’s his cock.
“Oh.” My stomach flutters. My daddy has a hard-on from all the
bouncing and wriggling I’ve been doing on top of him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers so only I can hear.
I can tell he’s embarrassed. I should be mortified, too, but instead, I’m
fascinated. I’ve only ever touched one cock before, my ex-boyfriend’s, and
it wasn’t very big. Suddenly I have a monster cock in my hand. I can’t help
but wonder if this is as big as it gets.
I suppose there’s only one way to find out.
“It’s okay, Daddy.” I give him a test rub.
 He gasps and guides my hand away.
“Jenny, don’t. They’ll hear.”
I rock my hips, grinding my ass against him. “I’ll be quiet. I promise.”
The breathy growl he makes is enough to tighten my nipples into hard
peaks. He grips my hips to stop me. I wriggle and his cock twitches. Soon,
he’s no longer trying to stop me. He’s guiding me, rocking my hips back
and forth over his big, fat cock. My clit pulses; I’m so fucking horny. I can’t
believe I’m doing this, letting my daddy use me to get off—and in the
presence of my mom and grandmother.
“You guys good back there?” Mom calls to us.
“We’re great,” I say, infusing my words with extra cheer.
I fight back a whimper as I feel my daddy’s hand creep under my skirt.
He reaches between my legs, aiming for the tender spot that makes me
tingle all over. His touch is gentle at first, cautious. Tight, teasing circles
over my clit through the damp cotton of my panties. I grind my ass into his
lap as he strokes me, and I swear his cock somehow manages to get even
harder.
Slipping under the elastic, my daddy strokes my pussy lips, then dips
between them to touch my clit directly. I love the way it feels, so dirty and
sensitive. He rubs me softly, with just the tip of his finger. My leg muscles
twitch. I shiver. My daddy slips a finger inside me and then draws it back to
slicken my clit.
Everything my daddy is doing to me feels incredible. If we weren’t in
the car with Mom and Grandma, I’d have ripped my shirt off and begged
him to play with my nipples a long time ago. Then, I remember: my
sweatshirt. It’s big enough that it should hide us. I reach over Daddy’s
shoulder and pull it out from between the suitcases where I wedged it.
Quietly, I arrange the sweatshirt over me like a blanket, then guide my
daddy’s hand to my breast under the cover of the cotton.
“Please, Daddy,” I whisper.
 He gets the message. I lay my head back on his shoulder and close my
eyes to make it look like I’m sleeping. Daddy strokes my nipple through my
shirt and then pulls the neckline down to expose me. If the sweatshirt were
to fall, my mom would only have to glance back to see him toying with my
nipple.
“I fucking love your little tits,” he whispers, as he pinches the tender
nub and rubs my clit. I don’t even have to concentrate on making him feel
good because my hips won’t stop rocking. I’m sure his cock must be sore,
trapped in the denim prison of his pants. I imagine how hot it would be to
let him fuck me like this, without my mom or grandma knowing. It could be
done. All we’d have to do is unbuckle the seatbelt.
“I want to feel you against me, Daddy,” I whisper.
I swear his cock doubles in size.
“Follow my lead,” he says, righting my shirt and withdrawing from my
panties. “Hey, Honey?” he says. “Can you hand me my phone real quick?”
“Sure.” My mom unplugs my daddy’s phone from the console and holds
it out behind her without turning. He moves as though he means to grasp it,
but instead knocks it out of her hand.
“Oops,” he says. “Sorry, hon.” He unbuckles the seatbelt, triggering the
dings. My heart hammers in my chest. “Jenny, can you grab my phone,
sweetheart?”
“Sure.” I bend down, taking longer than necessary to collect his phone. I
wait for him to pull down my panties and then settle back onto his lap—
onto his cock, warm and smooth and massive against my thigh.
We buckle ourselves back in and then rearrange the sweatshirt. as Mom
and Grandma continue their conversation about something inane, like the
price of bottled water. Daddy’s hands find my nipples again, tugging my
shirt down so he can get at them.
I close my eyes as he pinches and strums, then reach under my skirt to
touch him. Daddy’s cock is so hard and thick. I round my palm over the
head, then press him to my pussy so I can hump him. The head fits perfectly
between my lips, right over my clit. His breath quickens as I use him to
make myself feel good. Precum drips out the tip, making my palm sticky.
His hand joins mine between my legs. With his fingers on my clit, I angle
his cock and then tilt my hips just right so he can slip inside me.
I have to bite my lips together as I bear down. His cock fills me. I’ve
never been stretched like this, never had something this thick stuffed into
my pussy. Every nerve ending is on high alert and I am genuinely surprised
my mom can’t hear my heartbeat. My daddy kisses the back of my neck, his
hands still doing their best to drive me crazy. I move as well as I can
without flopping around like a fish. If only we had more room or a big
distraction, something to keep my mom and Grandma from noticing my
movements.
Orange traffic cones line the road up ahead. My hopes rise like a cock.
“Everyone hold on tight,” Mom says. “Looks like we’ve got a bumpy
ride ahead of us.”
I yelp as we hit the first pothole in the scarified pavement. The car
shakes, and so do I, bouncing up and down on my daddy’s cock with every
tremor. He swears under his breath. I concentrate on keeping a straight face,
on staying quiet, as the road jostles us. He pummels me over and over. It’s
not long before I feel the pressure mounting, the wave cresting, the threat of
an orgasm that could very well blow our cover.
“Jesus, this is awful!” says Mom. “You guys still doing okay back
there?”
I don’t dare open my mouth.
“We’re okay,” my daddy says. I hope she doesn’t notice how breathy he
sounds.
I slam down hard on my daddy’s cock as we hit another pothole. All at
once, it’s too much. His hand between my legs, his fingers pinching my
nipple. My clit throbs. I can’t hold back any longer. I’m going to come.
 I moan.
“Jenny, no,” Daddy whispers, but I can’t help myself.
“Are you all right, dear?” My grandma turns to look at us.
This is it. We’re done for.
“Holy shit!” Mom shouts. She slams on the breaks, just in time to barely
miss clobbering an elk as it bounds across the road.
The seatbelt bites into my flesh. Something hits the rear passenger-side
door opposite us, cracking the glass. The vehicle swerves to a stop, and I
feel my daddy’s cock pulse and swell. He’s coming inside me, spurting the
walls of my pussy with his hot cum. I can already feel it dripping out of me.
My body goes limp and my sweatshirt falls, exposing my tits and my
daddy’s hand between my legs and his cock plugging me.
“Oh my!” Grandma gasps. My own breath catches. “Look at the size of
that thing!”
It takes a second for me to realize she’s not talking about my daddy’s
cock. She’s talking about a second elk, the one that hit the car door, now
limping into the trees across the road. Acting fast, I right my top and
unbuckle us to grab my sweatshirt, sitting up just enough for my daddy to
shove his cock back inside his pants.
“You okay, honey?” Daddy asks.
“Yeah, you okay, Mom?” I echo, grateful that I can blame my labored
breathing and flushed face on the shock of almost dying.
“I think so.” She puts the car in park and sighs. “Thank goodness you
were sitting with your father, Jenny.”
Daddy pinches my ass, and I can’t help but smile.
“Yeah,” I say. “Thank goodness.”
 Stay With Me

T he moment the kitchen door slams, I know it’s going to be one of those
nights.
“I’m fucking tired of being treated like a walking ATM,” my dad
shouts.
Keys crash against the countertop. I glance up from the book I’m
reading and mentally kick myself for not heading up to my room twenty
minutes ago.
“You want me to walk around looking like a slob?” my mom snaps.
“How the hell am I supposed to get that job you want me to get if I have
nothing to wear to interviews?”
“What fucking interviews? You’re not going to interviews. You’re going
shopping with your lowlife friends.”
I consider putting in earbuds so I don’t have to listen to my parents
fight. But something in their voices tells me this argument might actually
result in consequences I should know about. They didn't used to fight all the
time. Now a month can’t go by without their tense conversations devolving
into a screaming match.
“I'm serious, Ellen,” Dad says. “I'm fucking done.”
This time, it sounds like he means it.
 I close my book and move to stand in the doorway. Neither of them
seems to have noticed I’m in the living room, not that it would stop Mom
from pushing Dad’s buttons. She likes to drag me into their arguments so it
seems like it’s two against one, though I’m rarely on her side.
I know she has a problem with spending, and it’s because of her
mismanagement of money that I’m extremely debt averse. I've seen how
desperate people get when they have nothing. I never want to take on more
debt than I can handle.
Living at home my first year of college has helped me keep the costs
down, but it comes at a price. My mom isn't an easy person to live with.
She's flighty and forgetful, and I suspect she may have a closet drinking
problem. The only thing that's made living here bearable is my dad. I don’t
know how he stays with her. I try not to think about how fucked-up my
childhood would’ve been if he hadn’t stuck around to raise me. It was him,
not my mother, who gave me a bedtime and helped me with my homework
after school.
It's because of him that I made it into college in the first place.
But the last time I sided with Dad in this argument, Mom threatened to
kick me out. He made it clear that as long as I continue to pay rent and help
out with utilities, I can live here as long as I want.
If he leaves, my life will erupt into chaos.
The kitchen door whines open and slams shut. My mom’s heels click
across the linoleum. She jumps when she spots me on her way through the
living room.
“Jesus, Shelby.” She clutches her chest, mascara running in rivulets
down her cheeks. “Do you have to slink around like a fucking phantom?”
“Where’s Dad going?”
“Away. Hopefully for good. I’m so fucking sick of his judgmental ass. I
do a lot around here, and he refuses to acknowledge it.”
 I glance around at the empty wine glasses on the coffee table, my
mom’s dirty laundry still in a basket on the floor. I think about how much it
costs to keep this place stocked with food and paper towels, let alone gas
and electricity, plus the mortgage itself.
“Mom, you have to go after him.”
She balks. “Why?”
“Because you can’t afford to live here by yourself.”
“I’m not by myself. I have you.”
“You know I can’t cover half the expenses while I’m in school.”
“Sure you can. I know you’ve got money saved up.”
“Yeah, because I’m not paying half a mortgage.” I’m pretty sure my dad
is paying the whole mortgage, and I don’t see Mom rushing to get a job
anytime soon. Dad might be willing to float us for a month or two, but it’s
only a matter of time before the whole payment would fall squarely on my
shoulders.
“If you want him to stay so badly,” she says, halfway up the stairs, “then
you go after him.”
“And do what? Beg him to forgive you?”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she shouts. “You know what, Shelby? Just
for that, you can find somewhere else to live, too.”
Finding affordable housing in the middle of the semester is next to
impossible in this city. It won’t take long for my savings to dwindle to
nothing. I’m about to follow my mom upstairs to apologize when I hear
Dad’s Chevy rumble to life. If I can get him to come back and give her
another chance, I can buy some time until the summer, when the rents won’t
be quite as high.
Then, maybe, I can get the hell away from her.
I make it down the driveway just in time to catch Dad’s truck mid-
reverse. He brakes hard as I yank the passenger-side door open.
“I'm coming with you,” I say.
 “No,” he says. “Not this time, Shelby. I need to be alone.”
“So be alone with me.” I climb inside, buckle up, and fold my hands in
my lap.
Dad rubs his eyes. I begin to wonder if he’s really going to kick me out.
“Fine. But we’re playing the quiet game.”

If Dad has a destination in mind, he doesn’t announce it.

We drive for over an hour in silence. Office and apartment buildings
give way to houses, which give way to fields and trees. I know this road,
but it’s long and winding, and branches off in a million different directions.
He could be taking us anywhere.
An opening in the trees reveals a wide, still river. There’s a sign for a
boat launch up ahead. He pulls into the tiny lot and parks facing the water. I
unbuckle my seatbelt and roll my window down so I can listen to the birds.
“Do you remember this place?” he asks.
“I think so. You took me fishing here once.”
He nods. “When you were twelve.”
I remember that day vividly, the bright sun reflecting off the water. I
didn’t catch anything, and I thought the worms were gross, but I liked being
in the boat.
Mostly, I think I just liked being with him.
“You can’t leave us, Dad.”
He sighs heavily.
“I don't want to leave you, sweetie.”
“Then don't. Come home and make up with Mom. Everything can go
back to normal. You’ll see.”
He shakes his head. “Your mom and I can barely be in the same house
these days, let alone the same room.”
 “But Mom can’t live in that house alone. She’ll self combust, and it’ll
be up to me to put out all the fires.”
“It’s not your job to take care of your mother.”
I slump in my seat. “You’re right. She made that clear today when she
kicked me out for giving her a reality check.”
“She can’t afford to kick you out.”
“She can’t afford to kick you out either, but here we are.” My eyes burn.
I rest my head on his shoulder just as the tears start to fall. He leans his
head on mine. “Where will you go?”
“Don’t know yet. Probably stay with your uncle Bob for a while, til I
figure something out. You’re welcome to come with me.”
It’s a tempting offer, but only a Band-Aid solution to a much bigger
problem. Uncle Bob lives three hours away; that’s three hours away from
campus. Sure, I could visit every other weekend, but it wouldn’t be the
same. Calls and texts can’t replace hugs and hearty Hey, Kiddos when I get
home from class.
Tears drip from my cheek onto his shirt. He pulls back to look at me,
cupping my jaw in his big, warm hand.
“Come on, now.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb. “Those pretty
eyes don’t deserve that kind of treatment.”
“Mom has pretty eyes, too.”
He shakes his head. “Yours are prettier.”
I smile. I love my dad so fucking much, I wish I could marry him. I
know that sounds gross; he’s my father. But he's also a good man—
handsome, too. God knows I'd be a better wife to him than my mom ever
was.
His face is so close, I could touch the tip of his nose with my tongue.
Close enough to see the flecks of gold in his green eyes—
Close enough to kiss.
 I press my lips to his before I realize what I’m doing. This is wrong. I
shouldn’t want to kiss my dad or feel his hands all over my body.
But I do want it, and I’ve wanted it for a long time.
He pulls back. “Shelby?”
I close my eyes so I don’t have to see the disgust on his face.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean—”
His lips claim mine in a fierce kiss that makes me tingle all over. It’s
been a long time since I kissed a boy, and at twice my age, Dad hasn’t been
a boy since long before I was born. He slides his tongue between my lips,
deepening the kiss.
All at once, I know exactly how I’m going to make him stay.
I reach for his belt.
He breaks the kiss as I tease the leather tongue through the buckle.
“Wait, what are you doing, Shelby?”
“Making you feel good.”
I’ve never sucked a cock before, but it can’t be that hard, can it?
I take the firm bulge in his pants as a sign that his dick is just as eager to
meet me as I am to introduce myself to it.
“Baby, we can’t.” He lays his hand over mine on his zipper. “It’s not
right.”
“Please, Dad.” I cup his erection. “I want this. I want you.”
I feel the truth in the words as I say them. This isn’t about money, and it
isn’t just about not wanting to lose him. I love my dad more than I’ve ever
loved anyone, more than a daughter should love her father.
I don’t want to bring him home for my mother to take advantage of.
I want to bring him home for me.
He lifts his hand and nods for me to keep going. I slip my hand inside
his shorts. Desire and remorse fight for territory across his features as I
touch his cock. He helps me tug his shorts partway down his thighs,
bringing his cock out into the open. It’s so thick and veiny. I’m not sure
how I’m going to fit my mouth around it, but I figure I’ll take it an inch at a
time.
I lean down to kiss the head. My dad groans softly, gathering my long
hair out of my face. I grip the base to hold him straight and begin swirling
my tongue around the tip. He whispers my name, again and again. I wrap
my lips around the head.
“God, that feels good, Shelby.” His cock pulses in my hand. I bob my
head, taking a bit more of the shaft with each pass, until I feel the urge to
gag.
A string of saliva hangs between his cock and my lips as I pull back to
cough. He pets the back of my head.
“Don’t take more than you can handle, sweetheart. It all feels amazing.”
I put my mouth on him again, being more careful this time not to choke
myself. The sounds he makes send a jolt of satisfaction through me. I’ve
done it. I’ve sucked my dad’s cock. I’ve made the man I love feel good.
His hand tightens on my improvised ponytail. His cock pulses. He starts
to buck in his seat, pushing his cock up as I glide down.
“I’m gonna come,” he says. “Shit, baby. I’m coming...”
I go still as a gush of salt splashes onto my tongue. My mouth fills with
the stuff. I’m not sure what to do with it. There’s nowhere to spit it out, and
it’s not like I can hand it back to him, so I swallow. He moans softly as my
throat shifts, petting the back of my head.
“That was so fucking hot, baby girl.”
He guides me off his cock. With his hand still wrapped around my hair,
he pulls me in for a kiss. His tongue breaches my lips to stroke mine.
“Goddamn,” he growls. “I could never get tired of the taste of my cum
in your mouth.”
His filthy words send a ripple of pleasure down my spine. My clit
throbs. I gasp as I feel his hand glide up my thigh, stopping at the hem of
my shorts.
 “You’re overdressed,” he says.
I pull my shorts and panties down without bothering to unbutton them,
leaving them in a crumpled pile in the footwell.
“Lean against the door,” he says. “Let me look at you.”
Resting against the passenger-side door, I spread my legs so my dad can
study my pussy. I’ve only ever shown my privates to one boy, a long time
ago. I’m still a virgin; I wonder if my dad can tell my pussy’s never been
fucked just by looking at it.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he says. I gasp as he pets my lips, up and down,
along the crease. He slips his thumb between them to stroke my clit. “Feels
good, yeah?”
I nod. He draws tiny circles over my clit, using my own wetness to
make the motions smooth and slippery. I bite my knuckle as I watch. I can’t
believe these are my dad’s hands on my body, my dad’s thumb stroking my
clit.
My nipples ache; I usually play with them when I touch myself, and I
can’t think of a good reason not to do so right now. Squeezing my breasts
through my shirt, I pinch and flick my nipples as my dad toys with my clit.
“Oh, hell yeah,” he says. “Let Daddy see those tits, baby girl.” He
hasn’t referred to himself as Daddy since I was little. Hearing him say it
now is like a dose of a potent aphrodisiac shot directly into my veins.
I take my shirt and bra off so that I’m completely naked in his truck.
Dad whistles approvingly.
“Beautiful,” he rasps. I gasp as he reaches out to tease my nipple, his
thumb never ceasing its efforts against my clit.
A truck pulls up alongside ours. I tense. My dad eyes the driver, an
older man with a gray moustache, and a skinny boy around my age in the
passenger’s seat who looks like he could be the old man’s grandson.
“Never mind them, sweetheart,” Dad says. “Keep those baby blues on
me.”
 I try and focus on him, but my gaze flits back to the old man and his
grandson as they exit the truck. I watch as they unhitch their boat from the
trailer, neither one of them noticing us—until my dad picks up the pace on
my clit and I moan.
The boy and his grandfather both look at me, bare-ass naked, getting
fingered by my own father.
“They’re looking,” I whisper.
“Let ’em.” Dad leans over me, taking my nipple into his mouth.
The old man glances away sheepishly, while the boy stares, his cheeks
going red. Whether or not the old man can still get it up at his age, who the
hell knows. But for some reason, the thought of them both getting hard at
the sight of us, their pants tenting as they head out onto the river, unable to
look each other in the eye, makes my pussy ache.
Maybe the fact that they can see us makes this whole thing real. We
can’t go home and pretend it didn’t happen; there were witnesses.
Dad flicks my nipple with his tongue. The gesture sends a flood of
tingles straight to my clit. A fire sparks between my legs and ignites. I lock
eyes with the boy just as my pussy clenches.
I come.
“Oh, shit, Daddy,” I whine as my pussy spasms. “That feels so
good...oh...”
The old man slaps his grandson on the arm to get him to stop staring. I
close my eyes and let myself get caught up in the inferno as it consumes
me.
My dad groans, gliding his fingers back and forth along my slit, feeling
how slick he’s made me.
“Get out,” he growls.
I startle. “Out of what?”
“The truck.” He opens the driver’s side door and jumps out, his pants
still unzipped and his cock once again fully hard.
 The old man and his grandson glance up from the water’s edge where
they’ve dragged their boat. My dad rounds the truck and opens my door. He
grabs me, not quite roughly, but with intention.
“Hold onto me,” he says.
I wrap my limbs around him as he lifts me. He carries me from the truck
to a mossy spot by the water, then lays me down. His cock points straight at
me as he fits himself between my legs.
“Have you done this before?” he asks. I shake my head no. “That’s all
right. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
I cry out as he wedges the head of his cock between my pussy lips. He
holds himself above me on taut arms. My dad’s a big man, tall and
muscular, and I feel like a little girl pinned beneath him. He thrusts deep,
making me moan.
“I love you, Shelby,” he says, bottoming out inside me. “You’re the only
thing that’s kept me in that house all these years.”
“I love you, too, Daddy.” I hold tight to him as he fucks me in view of
the dock as well as the road. Anyone could see us as they drive by.
Let them see, I think. I want people to see us, to know we’re together,
that this man is mine and not my mother’s.
He thrusts slowly to start, then picks up the pace as I begin to meet his
thrusts from below. It doesn’t hurt. In fact, it feels amazing, like he’s
playing with my clit from the inside. My breasts bounce as his pelvis
smacks against mine. I can tell he likes the view by how he stares at them.
He drops down onto his elbows to kiss me as we fuck, tasting my tongue
and grinding against my clit as his hips refuse to let up.
The moss is soft on my back, but the little sticks and twigs bite into my
skin, reminding me that we’re outdoors. We’re like animals, my dad and
me, rutting in the grass, feeding a primal hunger that sharing a bloodline
can’t even repress.
 Finally, his back muscles tense beneath my fingers. He bites my neck. I
yelp as he slams into me, pumping cum into my pussy faster than it can
hold it. I feel it drip down my ass, warm and sticky, onto the moss below.
My dad pulls out just in time to spurt the last bit of cum onto my belly. I
dip my finger into the creamy puddle. Here it is, I think, physical evidence
of the sins we’ve committed.
There’s a very good chance, since I’m not on birth control, that there
will be further evidence of our transgression down the road…
He collapses onto the moss beside me, his cock softening. I stretch out
along his body.
“Still thinking about moving away?” I ask, nervous about his answer.
“Only if you come with me.” He wraps his arms around me. I smile at
the thought of us living together as a couple, without Mom.
“It’s a shame Mom gets to keep the house,” I say. “I know it was her
parents’ house first, but it always felt like our home.”
“Technically, she has no claim to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your mom put my name on the deed the last time she went bankrupt.”
I rise onto my elbows. All this time, I thought the house belonged to my
mom.
“So, then, why did you leave today? You could’ve just kicked her out.”
He shrugs. “Where’s she gonna go?”
My love for him expands like a balloon in my chest, threatening to
crack my ribs. Dad’s always been a good man. Maybe too good. So good he
let himself get taken advantage of.
“It’s not your job to take care of her, you know,” I tell him.
“I take care of her because she’s your mom, and it’s her job to take care
of you.” He strokes my cheek. “Though, that was all before she threatened
to kick you out.”
 He plants a kiss on my forehead. We watch the ducks on the water for a
little while before getting back in the truck. I expect him to drive us home,
but he makes an unexpected turn toward downtown.
“Aren’t we going home?” I ask.
“We are,” he says. “After we make a quick stop.”

It’s almost twilight by the time we pull into the driveway. My mom opens
the front door as Dad and I exit the truck.
“I knew you’d be back,” she says with a smug smile.
“Yeah,” Dad says, stepping onto the front porch, “we’re back. Now start
packing your shit.”
She scowls. “Excuse me?”
“Shelby and I ran a few errands this afternoon, including a trip to the
county clerk’s office.” He waves the copy of the deed to the house in my
mom’s face.
She looks at the deed, then at me. “Shelby, what the fuck is going on?”
“Dad and I are now the official owners of this property,” I tell her.
“Which means you have exactly twenty-four hours to get the hell out of our
house.”
 Breaking and Entering

“O h , fuck .” I press the head of the vibrating wand firmly against my clit.
My pussy tightens. “Oh, Jesus fuck…”
The garage door drones open. Shit. That means Daddy’s home. A little
trill of fear ripples through me alongside the pleasure. I should stop before
he hears me. But I’m so close to coming. So close to reaching that
forbidden point in my fantasy. The place I only let myself go to when
nothing else will get me off.
I close my eyes and imagine strong, forceful hands on my body, a
hungry mouth sucking on my tits. I turn up the intensity on the vibrator and
rub myself harder, fighting to come before my daddy enters the house.
The kitchen door squeals open. My breath catches. I hear footsteps in
the foyer and then on the stairs. My inner muscles flutter. Almost there. I
imagine hands wrenching my legs apart, a hot tongue lapping at my clit.
“No,” I whimper. “Stop.”
It’s almost enough to get me there. Just another second…
“Don’t!”
Footsteps stall outside my bedroom door, which bursts open.
“Laura?” My daddy’s eyes go wide as he takes in the scene: his sweet
princess lying naked on her unmade bed, her freshly shaven legs spread
wide to reveal a vibrator pulsing against her equally smooth pussy.
 Embarrassment floods me. I yank the comforter over myself. “Daddy,
can’t you knock?!”
Blinking, he tears his gaze away. “I’m sorry, princess. I thought you
were in pain.”
“Well, I’m not.” Quite the opposite, actually.
He eyes me cautiously. “Who the hell were you talking to?”
“Nobody.”
“I distinctly heard you say, No, Stop, and Don’t.”
“I wasn't talking to anyone!” The vibrator hums in the awkward silence
that follows. I switch it off. “It’s just something I do, okay? Can we please
drop it?”
My daddy’s gaze sweeps the room before returning to me, and the
intensity in his stare sends a chill down my spine, making my nipples
pucker. I chalk it up to the aroused and shameful state I’m in.
“Why would you say those things?” he asks.
I hide my face in shame. I've never told anyone about my rape fantasies.
Not even my best friend. It's too embarrassing. What sort of person wants to
be forced to suck a cock, or be tied up and fucked hard until they come stars
while screaming Stop?
I came across a book at my university’s library that said rape fantasies
aren't so much about rape as they are about handing over control. No one
can want someone to rape them because by definition, rape is unwanted. It's
about playing out a scenario, in your head or in real life, where you can
relinquish power while still calling the shots. The only person I can imagine
trusting enough to role play a scene like that is my daddy, and it's not like I
can ask him.
Ever since Mom died, it's just been Daddy and me. Partners in every
sense of the word—every sense except sex, of course.
“I don’t know why I said it,” I lie.
 “Does saying it make you feel...” He can’t quite look at me. “Never
mind. It’s none of my business.”
He lingers in the doorway. Won’t he just get out of here?
“Do you want to order out tonight?” he asks.
“Sure, fine,” I snap. “Just get whatever.”
“All right.” He moves into the hallway, then calls out, “Do you want me
to shut the door?”
“Yes!”
The door closes, and finally, I take a breath.
“Shit.” I can’t believe my daddy just caught me playing with myself,
and to my most shameful fantasy. I’m beyond mortified.
When the pizza shows up, I slip downstairs, snag a couple slices and
take them back to my room. The last thing I want to do is give my daddy
another chance to ask me about what he walked in on. I spend the rest of the
evening doing homework and trying not to think about it.
Around ten o'clock, he knocks on my door.
“Come in,” I say.
He peeks his head into the room. “Hey, sweetheart. I have to run back to
the office for a few hours. Are you okay to be home by yourself?”
“Daddy, I'm nineteen, not nine.”
“Nine, nineteen or ninety, you'll always be my little girl.”
I roll my eyes. “Goodnight, Daddy.”
“Goodnight, princess.” The look he gives me right before he closes the
door sends a warm shiver down my spine, though I can't put my finger on
why.
Homework more-or-less finished, I shower and brush my teeth, then
change into a long tank top for sleeping. I never wear panties to bed. I read
a few chapters of an eBook on my phone, then go to sleep half an hour later
than I'm supposed to.
It's still dark out when I open my eyes again.
 I listen for the sound that woke me, the hum of the garage door opening
or Daddy’s car door slamming, but I hear nothing. I must've kicked my
blankets off in my sleep, because I'm uncovered, shivering. I reach for my
sheet.
That's when I realize my hands are tied to the headboard.
My pulse spikes. I try and move my legs, but they're tied, too. Then I
see it: a tall, dark figure standing in the corner.
There’s someone in my room.
It moves toward me, passing by the window, and I know without a
doubt that it’s a man wearing a ski mask and dark clothes.
“Help!” I struggle against the cords. “Daddy!”
The man stands at the foot of the bed and grasps my ankles. My pulse
thunders in my ears. He smooths his hands upwards, over my calves, and as
he reaches my knees, he climbs on the bed and keeps going. Thighs, hips,
belly. He cups my breasts, pushing them together and letting them bounce
back toward my armpits.
“No...” I whimper.
My nipples harden, tightening to stiff peaks inside my shirt. The
intruder rubs his thumbs across my nipples, and my clit tingles. I don't want
to feel aroused by this, but I can't help myself. I love having my nipples
played with. He pulls my tank top up and over my breasts. Holding himself
above me, he parts the curtain over my headboard, showering moonlight
onto my chest. His hands are warm as he lifts my breast by the nipple, then
shakes it.
I wince. “Please stop.”
He slaps my breasts, making them jiggle, then strokes my nipples
gingerly.
It's the stroking that does me in.
“Oh, God.” I whimper. “Don’t do that...”
 Unwelcome pleasure skitters along my body like insect feet. My clit
tingles. I fight to keep my hips from bucking, but they won’t listen. The
man chuckles, an unsettling rumble, as he lowers his masked face to my
chest. His nose grazes my nipple. I gasp. He rubs his face over my breasts,
the ribbed fabric giving me goose bumps. I wonder if he’s going to roll up
his mask to lick my nipples.
He doesn’t. Instead, he sits up, and I hear the soft slide of my bedside
drawer. There's a click and a hum.
He's brought out my vibrator.
The buzzing fills my head as he touches the whirring tip to my cheek.
The bones in my face tremble. I hyperventilate. He glides the wand down
my neck and chest, then presses the tip to my nipple. I flail my limbs, but
it's no use. He's tied me down tight.
He pulls the wand back and does it again, and again. Each time, I
squirm as the sensation in my nipple is echoed in my clit.
“Stop it!” I moan.
He ignores me.
The vibrator skips and slides down my body until it reaches my pussy.
He traces the tip along my outer lips and then moves inward. As soon as he
presses the vibrator to my clit, I immediately start convulsing.
Pleasure gushes through me like a river after a storm; there's no
stopping it. The man glides the tip down to my opening, then brings it back
up, slick. My pussy is dripping, thanks to this stranger's manipulations. He's
tricked my body into thinking it asked for this, or maybe it's simply
resigned itself to the inevitable. My sick fantasies are about to come true.
This man is going to rape me.
My pulse sprints. I’ve imagined a thousand different versions of this
scenario, but now that it’s really happening, I don’t know how to feel. I'm
scared and helpless, but I'm also horny as fuck. He rubs circles around my
clit that I chase, digging my heels into the mattress. I can feel the wetness
on the sheet beneath me as he caresses my breasts and stomach.
I don’t understand why he's bothering to pleasure me, why he would
care about my enjoyment if all he wants is to use me to get off. He seems
determined to make me orgasm, and there's a bizarre tenderness to the way
he touches me, like trying to soothe a frightened animal.
And like the perverted bitch that I am, I've gobbled it right up.
Jaw clenched, I let out an incoherent squeal. I want this and yet I want
no part of this, but my body couldn't care less what my mind wants, because
it needs to come.
Now.
So, I do. Hard. Like a cramp in my side. Only it's between my legs and
it pleases as much as it pains. I bite my lips together, fighting back moans. I
don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s made me come, but
it's like he can smell it.
He smooths a hand down my thigh, and it reminds me of how my daddy
used to pet me when I'd wake up after a nightmare. I crack open at the
gesture, whimpering like something small and pitiful. He glides the wand
down to my opening. I cringe at the slick sounds of my wetness as he dips
the tip between my lips.
My whole body tenses. There's a reason I only ever touch my clit when
I masturbate. It's because no one has ever been inside me. Not even myself.
He switches the vibrator off and then strokes my pussy with his fingers,
coating them with my juices. He teases my opening, then slides two fingers
inside me and curls them.
I cry out.
Tears wet my cheeks. “No, please,” I croak. “I've never done it… Don't
make me...”
He tilts his head, his fingers slowing until they're barely moving at all.
Realization flashes in his eyes: he's about to rape a virgin.
 For a second, I think he might actually take pity on me.
Then, I hear the hum.
He brings the vibrator back to my clit.
“No!” I whine as pleasure rips through me, making my pussy clench
around his fingers. What starts out as pain quickly softens into pleasure,
until having him inside me feels good. He strokes the front wall of my
pussy until I can’t think beyond this moment. Can’t feel anything beyond
the ache in my pelvis and the pressure building between my thighs.
Bearing down, I come again, and this time, I scream. The man hums
with pleasure, running his fingers up and down over my wet pussy lips.
“Let’s not wake the neighbors, princess.”
The nickname jolts me out of my stupor. There's only one person in the
world who calls me princess.
“Daddy?”
He pets my cheek and then pulls off his mask.
Relief flows through me, followed by betrayal. I can't believe my daddy
would do this to me. I should feel nauseous, livid, repulsed. I should not be
thanking God that the man who just violated me is also the man I love more
than anyone else in the world.
“Why?” My voice shakes.
He smooths a hand up my chest to cup my breast. “Because it’s what
you need.”
I gasp as he lowers his mouth to my nipple, something he couldn't do
while wearing the mask. His warm, wet mouth feels like the opposite of
wrong, though there’s no way this could ever be right.
I should tell him this has to stop. I should demand he untie me and then
immediately call the police. But I can’t. Because I need this, and he knows
it. So I give up on thoughts of fighting, of pleading, of thinking this could
end any other way. Daddy knew from the start that I needed to say No,
which is why he never gave me a chance to say Yes in the first place.
 “Don't,” I whisper, not because I think it’ll stop him, but because it turns
me on to say it.
He sucks my nipple until it’s as stiff as a pebble, then he sits up straight.
The bulge in his slacks is enormous. I can already feel my clit pulsing and
my muscles clenching.
He frees his cock from his pants. It jumps out, thick and long and
dripping precum. He rubs the head against my clit, then slides it down my
pussy. With a groan, he pushes it inside me.
“It hurts,” I cry, my muscles stretching to accept him. “Oh, don’t,
Daddy, please!”
Daddy fucks me slow, letting me get used to having his big cock inside
me. I beg him to stop even as I feel myself growing wetter. He captures my
words with his mouth, and I let him slip his tongue between my lips as he
fucks me, possessing me at both ends. Tears wet the hair at my temples.
My muscles relax enough that they don’t hurt anymore. Being fucked
starts to feel good. Daddy grunts as I rise to meet his thrusts, his hand
coming up to grasp my jaw. His pace quickens. He fucks me hard and my
pussy takes it, but it’s not enough on its own. I resign myself to not coming
a third time, until Daddy sits up without pulling out.
I hear the familiar hum.
“Oh, God.” I gasp the words.
He presses the vibrator to my clit and immediately my legs start to
tremble. Pleasure hits me like a train between my thighs and suddenly I’m
coming hard, grabbing his cock so tight I think it might break off. He slams
into me, his own body going rigid. I feel his cock pulse as he comes inside
me, spilling slick heat that spills out onto my already soaked sheets.
I hadn’t even thought to worry that I’m not on birth control.
“Christ...” Daddy pulls out and quickly unties my hands and ankles.
I rub my sore wrists and say nothing, unsure of what to say. Daddy
seems at a loss, too, unable to look at me. He tucks his cock back inside his
sweatpants, then sighs heavily.
“Are you okay?”
Am I? I don’t know. I roll to face the wall, feeling at once numb and
overcome.
“I’ll let you get some sleep,” he whispers. “Goodnight, princess. I love
you.”
The door clicks shut. I close my eyes.
“I love you, too, Daddy.”
The next day, Daddy leaves early and comes home late. I pretend not to
notice that he’s avoiding me. Neither of us seems to know how to act
around the other, so we pass like ships until nightfall when we disappear
into our bedrooms.
Sometimes I hate him, while other times, I love him more than words
can say.
After dancing around each other for over a week, I finally find the
words I need to tell him over breakfast.
“Daddy?” I say, pushing aside my cereal bowl.
He eyes me over his coffee cup. “Yeah, princess?”
I lay the ski mask on the table. “Next time you come to my room at
night, don’t tie me up. I’d like to try fighting back a little.”
 Little Star

I nternational super - spy B eck J ohnson shrugs off his leather jacket and
rolls up his sleeves.
“If I don't diffuse the bomb,” he says, “everyone in the city will die.”
“We can't let that happen,” I say, cupping his chiseled jaw in my hands.
“You can do this, Beck. I know you can. My uncle wouldn’t have hired you
to protect me if he didn’t think you could keep me alive.”
Beck sighs loudly and shakes his head. “Well, in case this is our last
moment on Earth, there's something I have to do first.”
“What's that?” I ask.
He lunges towards me, his lips crashing into mine. His breath is
garlicky. He must've had a calzone for lunch again. Fucking amateur. He
slips his eel-like tongue into my mouth.
I shove him off me. “What the fuck?”
“Cut!” the director shouts. “What the hell was that, Shannon?”
“He stuck his fucking tongue down my throat,” I shout.
Leo, my obnoxious co-star, throws up his hands. “The script says ‘he
kisses her passionately.’ I was kissing you passionately.”
“You were mapping my fucking tonsils.”
He stomps like an overgrown toddler—a very un-Beck Johnson-like
gesture. “I can't work like this, Jack!”
 The director pinches the spot between his eyes. “Jesus Christ. You know
what? Fine. We're not gonna get the shot tonight. We'll pick this up
tomorrow. Five AM, sharp.”
I hurry off to wardrobe to drop off my character’s too-tight dress, and
slip into my long pink bathrobe. My phone vibrates on the way to my
trailer, but I don’t answer it. I just want to get dressed and get back to my
hotel room, order room service and pass out in front of the TV.
Safe in my trailer, I sit down at the vanity and start to remove my
makeup. As I wipe away the layers, the girl I used to be appears in the
mirror like an apparition. She’s young, but tired. Pretty, but sad. And though
we share a face, we have almost nothing in common aside from a shared
childhood spent hunting and fishing and playing in the woods.
I started acting five years ago, when I was fourteen, but it wasn't until I
landed the starring role as the president’s daughter in a romantic comedy
that I became famous. Now I have a big, fancy apartment in Los Angeles
and more money than I can figure out how to spend. I have assistants and
publicists and agents and fans. So. Many. Fans.
But the people and things I miss the most are all back home in Oregon.
Like my family's country house with the aboveground pool and the big
Douglas fir out front. My dog, Baxter, my real friends, and of course, my
parents. I’d give anything to taste my mom's lasagna, to sit on the porch
with a hot mug of cocoa, my head resting on my daddy's chest as we watch
the stars come out.
A soft knock raps on my trailer door. I clench my jaw. It’s probably my
assistant with some inane problem, like what shoes I plan on wearing to the
Golden Globes.
I throw the door open. “What is it—”
My jaw drops a hundred stories as I take in the man in front of me. His
dark brows and laugh lines, the coating of scruff along his jaw, and the
bouquet of pink roses in his hand.
 My daddy. He’s here. I can’t believe it.
“Daddy!” I throw my arms around him like a small child. He lifts me
off my feet as he hugs me.
“Looks like someone's happy to see me,” he says, setting me back on
the ground.
I am happy to see him. Happier than I've been in months. “How is this
even possible?”
“Your assistant snuck me in,” he says. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, it worked.” I take his hand and pull him into my trailer. “Come
in. How are Mom and Baxter?”
The door closes behind him. He glances around my trailer, and I
immediately start picking up stray clothes off the floor.
“Baxter’s good,” he says. “Your mom sends her love and wants to know
if you plan on coming home for the Fourth of July.”
“I really hope I can.” I can already smell Mom’s teriyaki barbecue
chicken and hear the hot dogs sizzling on the grill. Then I remember I’m
supposed to be filming a commercial in Japan the first week of July. My
hopes sink like a brick as my eyes burn with tears. “God, Daddy, I missed
you so much. I can't believe you're really here.”
“Believe it,” he says, taking the bundle of clothes from my arms and
setting them down on a nearby chair. He wipes the tears from my eyes, his
gaze full of concern. “Are you all right, Shannon? Did something happen?”
I shake my head. “I'm just feeling homesick. It's good to see you.”
My daddy guides me to the couch where he pulls me onto his lap. I rest
my head against shoulder and sigh. This is just what I need, a moment of
peace and quiet, and my daddy's strong arms wrapped around me. I can
forget all about the movie and my Hollywood obligations, stop worrying
about being America’s Sweetheart and concentrate on being Daddy’s little
girl.
 He kisses my forehead. I tilt my face to look at him, and he strokes my
cheek with his knuckles. “You're so beautiful, Shannon,” he says. “I know
you’re busy working hard, but you're always welcome at home, and not just
for holidays.”
I wish I could go home. Just for a few days. Having my daddy in my
trailer is almost like having a piece of home here in Los Angeles.
The need to kiss him is as involuntary as the need to breathe. I press my
lips to his neck. He shivers, his arms tightening around me.
“What was that for?” he asks, his voice breathy.
“Nothing. I just love you, that’s all.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.” He cradles the back of my head. “The
house feels empty without you. Sometimes I watch your movies just to hear
your voice.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He gazes into my eyes. “That indie movie you made two
summers ago, Nights in Savannah? I could watch that movie every day and
not get tired of it.”
Warmth fills my cheeks. Nights in Savannah is my most revealing role,
both physically and emotionally. It’s a film about a girl who runs away from
home and gets caught up with an older man who turns her into a high-class
call girl.
I wasn't quite eighteen when production started, so we had to wait until
my birthday to shoot the nude scenes, of which there were many. My
character loses her virginity pretty early in the film. I remember being
terrified the night before we shot it. I was a virgin then. I’m still a virgin
now, something the celebrity gossip sites would be shocked to learn.
“It's no surprise why everyone wants a piece of you,” my daddy says,
sweeping a lock of hair from my face. “Sometimes I get so jealous that I
have to share you. You’ll always be my little girl, I know that. But you’re
not all mine anymore.”
 “Yes, I am.” I drape my arms around his neck. He runs his thumb along
my bottom lip, and once again I feel the urge to kiss him. So I do.
I kiss him on the lips.
My daddy tenses at first, then relaxes. He cradles my face and kisses me
back. What starts out as a sweet, soft kiss deepens into something that
makes my pussy tighten. My pulse jumps and my nipples harden in my bra.
Daddy’s hands smooth up and down my body, reminding me that I’m not
wearing much of anything beneath my bathrobe.
I gasp as my daddy’s hand slips inside my robe.
“Daddy, what are you doing?”
“You’re so gorgeous, Shannon.” He kisses me again. “I love you so
much.”
“I love you, too. But...” He cups my breast, his thumb sliding back and
forth over my tight nipple. His touch makes my clit tingle. My heart pounds
and I start to panic. We shouldn’t be doing this. What if someone sees us? I
turn my face away. “No, Daddy, you can’t.”
He kisses my neck and I can’t help the moan that falls from my lips.
Why is he doing this? And more importantly, why don’t I feel disgusted by
how good he’s making me feel? He hooks his finger into my bra cup. “I just
want to see, sweetheart. Let Daddy see you.”
He pulls my bra down, baring my breast. My nipple tingles like it
knows he’s looking at it. My daddy makes a low, growling sound in his
throat that makes me want to press my thighs together. He licks his lips,
then draws my other cup down, exposing me completely.
“God, they’re even more perfect in person,” he says. I’m confused by
his words until I remember that he’s been watching my movies. Funny how
I never felt embarrassed about the thought of him seeing me naked on
screen.
I barely have time to say Stop as he dips forward to lick my nipple. The
wet heat of his tongue swirling around and around makes me tremble. I’m
turned-on—so turned-on that part of me wishes I could touch myself, or
that he might touch me...down there. I squirm in his lap, and something
hard pushes against me from below.
“Daddy, what is that?”
“What’s what?”
“That hard thing in your pocket.”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry about it.”
It’s most definitely not nothing.
“Is it your cock?” When he doesn’t respond, I grind my ass onto his
bulge, my curiosity getting the better of me.
He moans softly as his hand comes to rest on my hip.
“Let me see it, Daddy.”
He looks at me, his gaze dark with lust. “You want to see my cock?”
“You’ve seen me,” I say. “It’s only fair.”
Daddy sets me on the cushion beside him and then reaches for his belt.
My mouth waters as he takes his cock out. He holds it in his fist, and I
watch him stroke himself. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My hands
move of their own will, untying the cord around my waste, slipping off my
robe, and shirking my bunched-up bra completely.
I play with my nipples as I watch him pump his fat daddy cock, his free
hand coming to rest on my thigh. He smooths his hand up and down, a little
higher each time until he reaches my panties. I whimper as he pets my
pussy through my underwear, drawing a crease between my lips. I spread
my legs wide.
“These are pretty,” he says. “Take them off.”
I lift my ass and slide my panties to the floor.
My daddy whistles approvingly. “Now, give me your hand,” he says,
and I do.
He wraps my fist around his cock and shows me how to stroke him. Up
and down. Not too tight, not too loose. Just right.
 I gasp as he parts my pussy lips, then dips a finger into my opening—
just barely—to wet it before bringing his slippery finger up to my clit.
“Does that feel good, baby girl?”
“It feels so good, Daddy.” I can’t help the way my hips rock as he
pleasures me. I stroke his cock faster. “Am I making you feel good, too?”
“God, yes, sweetheart.” He kisses me deeply. “You’ve done this before,
haven’t you?”
I shake my head. “Never.”
“Really?” He exhales the word, his head falling back against the couch.
He dips his finger into my pussy again, this time easing it inside. My
muscles squeeze him. “Shit, I can’t believe it. Millions of people have seen
your tits and watched you fuck like a prostitute, yet somehow, you’re still a
virgin.”
“That’s just acting, Daddy.” I jerk off his cock as he finger-fucks me and
grinds the heel of his palm against my clit. It feels wonderful. My fingers
are too short to reach that far inside myself, but my daddy’s hands are big.
His cock is big, too. It pulses in my fist. I run my hand up and over the
head, spreading the fluid that’s collected there, and wonder how the hell
something that big could ever manage to fit inside such a small space.
He pulls out of me to concentrate on rubbing my clit. I can feel the
tremors of my orgasm like the first rumbles of an earthquake. As the
pleasure mounts, builds, and then bursts inside me, my whole body
shudders. My muscles clench. I moan and then clamp a hand over my
mouth as I remember where I am. If my assistant were to walk in, or a
security guard, my career—my life—would be over.
Still twitching, I melt against my daddy. He pets my pussy as I come
down, sending little shockwaves through my bloodstream. He kisses my
forehead.
“Come straddle Daddy’s lap, sweetheart,” he says, pulling me onto him.
 He peppers my face and throat with kisses, his beard tickling my
sensitive skin. I shiver as his cock twitches, bouncing off my thigh, then
gasp as the head prods my opening.
“Daddy, no. We can’t do that!”
“Of course we can,” he says. “We can do whatever we want. And I want
you so bad, baby girl.”
My pulse races as my mind and body struggle for dominance. Daddy
grips my hips, forcing me down onto the head of his cock. It feels like I’m
being stretched to the breaking point, but somehow, he manages to make us
fit.
“Daddy...” I try to rise off of him, but he has me pinned. He doesn’t stop
pushing until I’m fully stuffed.
“Jesus,” he rasps.
I whimper as he maneuvers my hips, making me glide up and down
along his shaft. It feels right, like my body was made for this, though part of
me knows it’s wrong. His cock fills me with every thrust until I start to
crave it, until I’m fucking him all by myself.
“That’s it, Shannon,” he says. “Ride Daddy’s cock.”
I grip his shoulders for leverage so I can fuck him harder and deeper. No
longer controlling my hips, his hands squeeze my breasts and toy with my
nipples. My body hums with forbidden pleasure. I’m like an engine being
revved, louder and louder, raring to go. I had no idea getting fucked would
feel this good, or that coming with a cock inside me would be like a regular
orgasm times ten. As my muscles clench around my daddy’s cock, I can’t
help digging my nails into his shoulders.
“Fuck, Daddy, that feels... Oh God, I can’t stop.”
I come like the shot at the start of a race, hard and fast. My daddy
groans, his hands gripping my hips as he fucks me. I’m spent. I can’t do
anything but sit there and get pounded, which is fine by me because it feels
amazing.
 “I’m coming,” he says. “Shit, baby, Daddy’s coming.”
“Wait! I’m not on the—”
But it’s too late. He’s already coming. Ramming his cock once, twice,
three times, deep inside me. Shooting hot, thick cum into my formerly
virgin pussy. His cock throbs. I can feel his cum dripping out of me,
streaming down my inner thigh.
My daddy’s hands glide over my ass and up my back, then down again.
I whimper as his cock slips out of me. He kisses me and brushes my sweat-
dampened hair from my face.
“That was so fucking hot,” he says. “Better than I ever could’ve
imagined.”
“Have you been imagining it?”
“I have.” He caresses my cheek. “More times than I can count. I just
wish we didn’t have to wait until July to do it again.”
I kiss my daddy deeply, passionately. Like the perfect romantic movie
kiss.
“I think I can shift my schedule around.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’ve been driving myself crazy, working nonstop. I think it’s
about time I came home.”
 Private Dancer

T he alleyway is dark . I try my best not to step on anything sharp or

sticky in my three-inch heels, as I make my way toward the back door of
the strip club. The music is loud enough that I can recognize the lyrics to a
dance remix of a popular song. I have to knock twice on the door before it
opens.
“You the new girl?” a guy shouts over the music.
I nod. He motions for me to follow him down a dark hallway.
“I’m Jack,” he says. “We spoke on the phone.”
I shadow my new boss into a brightly lit room. I’ve never seen so many
naked women in one place before.
“This is where you’ll get ready.” Jack motions to the long vanity littered
with makeup and personal effects. “You’ll want to buy your own uniforms,
but we have some you can borrow for your tonight.”
It takes me a moment to realize what he means by uniforms: lingerie,
vinyl shorts, pleather chaps and cowboy boots. He points to a pretty
redhead loading her eyelashes with mascara.
“Candi here can set you up,” he says.
She shoots him a scowl, then turns to me. “What’s your name?”
I fiddle with my choker—a nervous habit I can’t seem to break no
matter how hard I try.
 “Molly.” It’s not my real name, but I doubt Candi’s parents were
clairvoyant enough to give their baby girl a stripper’s name, so I don’t mind
giving her a fake one in return.
“Good to meet you.” She almost sounds like she means it. She gestures
to a rack of skimpy lingerie. “Go ahead and pick something out. You’re on
the floor in five.”
The music in the club area is loud enough to rattle my bones. I make a
note to pick up some earplugs before tomorrow’s shift. A couple of drunk
college bros approach me in the hopes of getting a free preview. When it
becomes clear that they have no interest in paying for a dance, I politely
excuse myself.
A group of well-dressed businessmen file into the corner booth at the
back of the club. They order drinks from a blonde who leans in close to take
their orders, her triple-D breasts practically bursting out of her push-up bra.
I’m willing to bet those puppies have paid for themselves at least ten times
over. My own breasts are neither small nor massive, but full enough to form
cleavage in a bra top and perky enough to stand up on their own. Tonight,
I’ve stuffed them into a white lace baby-doll top, over matching thong
panties.
“You look like a virgin bride,” the waitress says, as she slaps her tray on
the bar.
I laugh, but on the inside, I go taut. I very much doubt that Jack would
be thrilled about hiring a virgin dancer. It’s bad enough that I don’t have
any references, and from the way he’s sizing me up now, I’m willing to bet
he isn’t buying my claim that I’m twenty-one.
“New girl,” Jack calls from behind the bar. “Go see if the guys at the
corner table want a dance.”
I make my way through the crowd, ignoring the ass pats and stale beer
breath as I approach the booth. Four pairs of eyes turn to ogle me. One pair
in particular makes my heart stop. Green eyes built into a handsome face,
topped with salt-and-pepper hair. He’s at least forty, maybe even forty-five,
and there’s something hauntingly familiar about him.
“Would one of you gentlemen like a dance?” I ask, turning my attention
to the others. A blond man with a mustache caresses my arm.
“Well, look at you,” he says with a deep Southern drawl. “Aren’t you
the prettiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Molly.” I glance at the man with the intense green eyes. His expression
is oddly serious for a man at a strip club.
“I haven’t seen you here before, Molly,” the blond man says.
“It’s my first night.”
The other men whistle and rub their hands together, no doubt creaming
their pants at the idea of popping my club cherry.
“Well, shit,” the blond says, “I’d be honored to take you for a ride—”
“She’s mine, Stevenson,” the green-eyed man says.
If looks could kill, Stevenson would be drawn and quartered. He
chuckles, trying to diffuse the tension. Like the other men, he seems taken
aback by the green-eyed man’s insistence. He holds up his hands. “All right,
Mac. You can have the first dance.”
Mac. The name hits me like a truck.
The green-eyed man reaches for his drink, and as soon as I spot the
dove tattoo peeking out from his suit cuff, my throat closes.
I’ve met this man before.
My mom had told me all kinds of awful things about my long-lost
father. That he was a criminal who’d stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
That he was married when they met, and that he’d chucked my mom as
soon as he found out she was pregnant. He came to the house once, ten
years ago, when I was eight years old. That’s how I remember the tattoo on
his wrist and his piercing eyes, the same emerald color as my own.
Eric Macalister. My father.
He slides out of the booth and offers his hand to me. I take it.
 “Lead the way, Molly.”
My pulse races a mile a minute. Clearly, he doesn’t recognize me. I
guide him past the bar to the row of cubbies where the lap dances are given.
There’s no way I can do this, but what reason would I give for turning him
down?
“Um...” I fiddle with my heart-shaped choker. “Take a seat.”
I gasp as he cups my face in his big, warm hand.
“Is there somewhere private we could go?”
If there is, I don’t know about it. I swallow hard. “I can check.”
“Please do.”
I hurry off to find Jack, reeling from the insanity of the situation. When
I finally locate him, it’s in the dressing room. Apparently one of the dancers
is having a wardrobe malfunction. Something about a Bat Girl costume
that’s supposed to be crotchless, but isn’t.
“Do we have private rooms?” I ask Jack.
“Yeah, but they’re fifty bucks extra and you’ll be expected to get
completely naked.”
“Oh...”
Jack cocks an eyebrow. “What’s the problem?”
The words lodge in my throat.
“Did a customer grab you?” Jack asks. “Threaten you? Harass you?”
I shake my head.
He sighs. “Look, Molly, you’re obviously a nice girl. Maybe you’re just
not cut out for this line of work.”
“No!” Ever since my mom took off, I’ve been relying on the kindness of
friends and acquaintances. If I don’t start making decent money soon, I’ll be
out on the street. “I’ll do it. Just show me where to take him.”
I lead my daddy to a small, dimly lit room with a wraparound couch and
a pole at the center. Unlike the main club area, the music being piped
through the speakers is at a reasonable volume.
 My daddy removes his suit jacket and takes a seat on the couch. I know
I should start dancing, but I can’t make myself move.
“Is there a problem?” my daddy asks, his gaze penetrating.
“No problem.” I grasp the pole. I’m no stripper, but I can strut around
enough to make it seem like I know what I’m doing. I sway my hips in time
with the music, avoiding my daddy’s gaze.
What would he say if I told him I was his daughter? Would he even
believe me? Possibly, but probably not. Either way, the dance would be
over, nobody would get paid, and Jack would wonder what the hell had
happened. Worse, my daddy might complain to Jack about the crazy girl
who called him Daddy. He’d write me off as too much trouble and fire me
on the spot.
All I have to do is dance, I tell myself. Sure, I have to get naked, but
he’s not allowed to touch me unless I let him. If he gets handsy, I’ll
complain and he’ll get thrown out, which would solve the problem.
I hold tight to the pole and bend, swaying my ass to the music.
My daddy hums. I close my eyes and let my body take the reins,
circling the pole and lifting the loose fabric of my top to expose my flat
stomach. At some point, I know I have to touch him. But for now, I let the
music guide me.
A new song starts, slow and sensual. With a steadying breath, I come to
stand before my daddy. His hands are resting on his knees. I turn so that my
ass is facing him, then lower myself onto his lap. His cock is hard in his
pants; I gasp like it reared up and bit me. Recovering quickly, I grind my
ass over his erection. To think that this is the cock that helped make me. It’s
a wild notion. I tease the bottom of my baby-doll up as though I’m going to
pull it off, then let it drop.
My daddy chuckles. “Aren’t you a little tease.”
I stand and face him, my hands cupping my breasts through the lace. “Is
this what you want to see?”
 He nods. I ease my straps down, one by one, then switch things up by
pulling the baby-doll off over my head. My daddy groans low in his throat.
“That’s more like it.” He licks his lips and beckons me with a finger.
“Come to Daddy, sweetheart.”
My heart skips. He can’t mean it. There’s no way in hell. Men say
things like that in the heat of the moment. Still, it makes me want to curl up
in his lap for story time.
I never had a father figure. As I got older, the guys my mom brought
home were only interested in one thing. Fortunately, I was able to keep my
distance, but that also meant I never let anyone get close enough to be sweet
to me.
I straddle my daddy’s lap, positioning my thong-clad pussy over his
bulge. His fingertips whisper across my hips in a silent question. I know I
shouldn’t encourage him, but I nod. He grips me firmly but not painfully, as
I rock and roll my hips to the music. His gaze flits between my face and my
breasts. I can see it in his eyes that he wants to taste my nipples.
As much as I try and remind myself that this is business, not pleasure, I
can’t help the way my pussy feels pressed against my daddy’s cock. My clit
tingles with every rotation of my hips, and my nipples stiffen.
What could it hurt to let him suck them for a minute?
I rise up on my knees, putting distance between his cock and my pussy
while I place my breasts in line with his open mouth. I trace his lips with
my nipple. His tongue snakes out.
“Oh, god,” I whine.
He licks my nipple, then circles it before drawing it into his mouth. I
wish I could grind on him at the same time because my clit is dying to join
the party.
My daddy’s hands grip my ass as he licks and sucks my nipples. I
weave my fingers through his hair. His shampoo smells good, masculine
and spicy.
 “You taste delicious, baby.” He kisses the spot between my breasts. “I
bet your pussy tastes even better.”
Technically, I’m not supposed to let him go down on me, but I doubt my
pussy would be the first to get eaten in this private room.
“I’ll pay,” he says against my skin. “Two hundred. On top of everything
else.”
I tell myself I’m doing it for the money. Not because the thought of my
daddy eating my pussy makes my clit throb. I stand and hook my fingers
into the waistband of my thong panties.
Then, I get a better idea.
“Give me your hand,” I say, and he does. I guide his hand between my
thighs and make him stroke me. He groans with arousal. I rock against him
a few times, for my own pleasure, and then hook his fingers into the crotch.
“Now pull.”
My daddy draws my panties down my legs. I step out of them. He licks
his lips as I lift my foot to rest on the couch cushion, displaying myself.
“Is that a yes, baby girl?” he asks.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I expect him to react to the epithet, but he doesn’t. Then again, perhaps
latching his mouth to my pussy is his reaction. I moan as he grips my ass,
trapping me between his mouth and his hands. I hold tight to his shoulder so
I don’t fall.
He licks and sucks my clit. My legs tremble. I can feel the pleasure
building inside me, something I never would’ve expected to feel with a
customer—and especially not with my own father. He takes his time,
driving me crazy, edging me with his tongue.
“How much to suck my cock?” he asks. “Whatever it is, I’ll pay it.”
As horny as I am now, I would do it for free. But that might seem odd,
so instead I tell him, “Two-fifty.”
“Done.” His hands fly to his belt buckle.
 I kneel in front of him with my hands on his thighs. There’s no helping
the moan that pours from me upon seeing my daddy’s cock. Wrapping my
hand around the shaft, I kiss the head and then tease the tip with my tongue.
He gasps as I take him into my mouth.
“My god, Mia. How have I gone so long without getting to know you?”
He knows my name. I release him with a pop.
“How did you know?”
“The necklace. I gave it to you.” He strokes my cheek. He’s right; I’d
forgotten. “I couldn’t let you dance for anyone else. Especially not that
prick Stevenson. I was going to tell you, but then you started dancing and I
couldn’t take my eyes off you. I wanted you. I still want you.”
And I want him, in ways no daughter should ever want her father, but I
can’t help myself. I take his cock into my mouth again, sucking greedily. He
grasps a fistful of my hair but doesn’t force me to deep throat him.
I do that all on my own.
“Jesus Christ,” he rasps. “Your mouth feels so good, but all I can think
about is fucking you.”
My pussy throbs. “So fuck me, Daddy.”
He pulls me off his cock, then lifts me onto the couch so that I’m lying
down and he’s above me. He kisses me, and I let him slip his tongue into
my mouth. He tastes like whiskey and me—a delicious combo. As soon as I
feel the head of his cock at my pussy lips, I push him back.
“Wait, Daddy.”
“Yeah?” I can hear the agony in his voice.
“Go slow, okay? I’ve never done this before.”
He kisses me, drawing the head of his cock up to tease my clit.
“It’s an honor to be your first,” he says.
My daddy slips inside me. I’m so horny and wet that I barely register
the pain and the tension in my muscles. The zipper on his pants scrapes my
inner thigh as he bottoms out. I pull his pants down his hips and then
squeeze his ass like he squeezed mine earlier. I can tell he likes it by way
his breath catches.
“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he says.
I nod. He glides partway out and thrusts back in. My own hips rise to
meet him. Every thrust puts pressure on my clit, and as he fucks me harder,
I can feel my orgasm brewing like a storm between my hips. He braces
himself over me so he can watch my face. I watch him, too, amazed that
he’s finally in my life again, in the most intimate way imaginable. His cock
pounds into me. Suddenly, my clit pulses and I feel my muscles close
around him. I’m coming, and it’s the most intense orgasm I’ve ever
experienced. Like being run over by a pleasure train. I’m helpless against it.
“Shit...Mia...baby...” My daddy bites out each word as he slams his cock
inside me, pumping me full of his heat. Gush after gush after gush. It hits
me that I’m not on birth control, and we’re not using a condom.
Would my daddy leave me, just like he left my mother, if I got
pregnant?
“Daddy?”
He kisses my neck. “Yeah, baby?”
“We didn’t... You should’ve...”
“Shh.” He pets my hair. “It’s okay. Whatever happens, I’m here for you.
I’ll never make the same mistake again.”
“What about your wife?”
My daddy smiles. “We’re separated. In two months, we’ll be divorced.”
He kisses my forehead. “You’re the only woman in my life now. The only
one who matters. And there’s no way in hell I’m going to have my little girl
shaking her goods in some dive bar for a living.”
He pulls out his wallet and hands me a thick wad of cash, along with a
business card with his cell number written across the back.
“Tell your boss you’re done for good,” he says. “Then go home and
pack your bags.”
 “My bags are already packed. I’m sort of...in-between homes at the
moment.”
“Not anymore, you’re not. Get your stuff together. I’ll send a car to pick
you up.”
“Where am I going?”
“My apartment. From now on, that’s where you live. And once you’re
settled in, we’ll get you a job at my company.”
“Doing what?”
“How’s Personal Assistant to the CEO sound?”
“Amazing, but I’m not sure I have the skills.”
“Trust me, Mia. You have the skills.” He cradles my chin, pressing his
thumb to my bottom lip. “Your nights of dancing for strangers are over,
baby girl.”
Coincidentally, I think my nights of dancing for Daddy have just begun.
 Daddy, It’s Cold Outside

“W ell , H olly , that was delicious .” My dad rubs his belly and lays his
napkin on the table. “You're a better cook than your mom ever was, that's
for sure.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” I can't help the somewhat smug smile that pulls at my
lips. I love making my daddy happy, especially around Christmas.
“What time are your mom and Rick getting back tomorrow?”
“She said after noon.” I finish my last bite of prime rib and wash it
down with warm apple cider. “I wish they were staying at Rick's parents’
house ’til New Year's, like last year.”
My mom and my stepdad Rick get so stressed out around the holidays.
When they said I didn't have to go upstate with them and my stepsiblings
this year, I jumped on the chance to stay home. I love being able to traipse
around the house in my underwear whenever I want. Plus, I got to invite my
daddy over for Christmas dinner.
“At least you have one more night to yourself,” he says. “What do you
think you'll do?”
“I don't know. Maybe watch a movie or a show, after dipping into Rick's
liquor cabinet, of course.”
“I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.” My dad laughs and then sighs, his
gaze wistful. “I can't believe your first semester at college is over already.
Seems like only yesterday you were dancing on my feet in the living room.”
The memory makes me feel warm all over. Back when my parents were
still together, and we lived in the same house, I was a total Daddy's girl. We
were inseparable. Now I'm lucky if I see him once a month.
We clear the table and pack up the leftovers. Dad insists on rinsing the
dishes and helping me load them into the dishwasher. I cut us two big slices
of pecan pie, which we take to the living room to eat by the Christmas tree.
After a few minutes, my dad cocks his head. “Hey, what's that down
there?”
I look to where he's pointing. There's a present under the tree that wasn't
there before.
“I don't know.” I kneel on the carpet and pick up the present, turning it
over. “There's no name on it.”
“That's odd. Maybe it's from Santa.”
I stick out my tongue. “Ha ha.”
“Why don't you open it?”
“What if it’s not for me?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s for you.” He winks. I pull off the bow and stick it to
my shirt, then peel back the paper. It's a framed photo of the two of us from
my high-school graduation, standing beneath a cherry blossom tree with our
arms around each other. I can't get over how happy we look, and how
handsome my dad is. He looks younger than forty-three, his biceps testing
the limits of his white dress shirt.
No wonder he's never had trouble finding a girlfriend—until this year, at
least. I had half expected him to tell me he was going away for Christmas
when I invited him to dinner. To my surprise, he was free and excited to
spend the day with his daughter instead of some spray-tanned MILF.
“But Daddy, you said we weren't doing presents this year!”
He shrugs. “I couldn't not get my little girl something.”
“But...” I frown. “I don't have anything for you.”
 “You cooked me a four-course dinner. That's better than any present you
could’ve bought me.” He gathers the wrapping paper and then bends down
to stroke my cheek. “Do you like it?”
I hug the framed photo to my chest. “I love it. Thank you, Daddy.”
He kisses my forehead and then my nose. Something like desire flashes
in his eyes and he hesitates before kissing my lips. The kiss lingers a few
seconds longer than one would expect between family.
When it ends, I find myself disappointed.
“Guess it's time for me to hit the road,” he says.
“Already?” I don't want him to go. I want him to stay a while. Just a few
more minutes. Or hours. Or even the whole night through. I want to curl up
with him by the fire and snuggle the way we used to. “Can't you stay a little
longer?”
“It's supposed to snow all night. You don't want your old man to get
caught in the storm, do you?”
A quick glance out the window shows the snow is already coming down
pretty heavily. I don't want him to get stuck, but I also don't want him to
leave.
All at once, I know what I can give him for Christmas. Something I've
been holding on to since the day he gave me “the talk” about how my body
is precious and that I shouldn't let just anyone touch it. My nipples tingle
and my pussy tightens just thinking about what I want to do with him.
I slip on my sweetest smile like a red Christmas sweater. “But Daddy,
it's cold outside. You should stay here with me tonight, where it's warm.”
“I doubt your mother would be keen on me spending the night.”
“She doesn't have to know.” I scooch closer to him. “Just stay a little
longer. Please?”
He pets my hair, his gaze lingering on my lips. “All right, sweetheart.
Just a bit longer.”
 I stand and kiss him on the cheek. “I'm just going to run upstairs and
change into something more comfortable. Be right back.”
I dash upstairs and strip out of my clothes, then rummage through my
drawers for my red bra and panty set. Over that, I put on my prettiest white
nightgown with a low-cut lace neckline. On my way back to the living
room, I stop at Rick's liquor cabinet for a bottle of rum.
“Wow.” My dad eyes me approvingly, and maybe a little nervously, too.
“You look...festive. Is that what you usually wear to bed?”
“Sometimes.” I pour a splash of rum into his cocoa. “Most of the time I
just sleep naked.”
His throat shifts as he swallows. I'm about to pour another glug of rum
into his cocoa when he stops me. “That's enough sweetheart, thank you. I
still have to drive home tonight.”
“Oh, but Daddy, it's so cold and snowy outside. You'll freeze on your
way home.” I take a sip of his spiked cocoa and wince. He chuckles. I grasp
his hand. “Dance with me, like old times.”
He smiles. “All right. One song.”
I put on a quiet Christmas song and make sure the gas fireplace is
emitting heat. My dad smiles as I wrap my arms around him, pressing my
breasts a bit more firmly against him than necessary. He rests his hands on
my waist and sways with me to the melody. I turn my face so that my
mouth is close to his neck.
“Isn't this nice? So warm and cozy.”
“It is, princess.” His hand slides to my lower back. “This is the best
Christmas I've had in a long time.”
“Me, too.” I touch my lips to his throat. He tenses, but doesn't stop
dancing. I step back so he can spin me like he used to, then return to his
arms with my back to his chest. Carefully, so as not to seem obvious, I press
my ass into his crotch.
Something springy pushes back at me. I press harder.
 My dad steps away, his gaze wary and cheeks flushed. “I really should
be going, Holly.”
“Aw, just one more dance, Daddy. Please!”
“I'm sorry, but the answer is no.” He goes to the closet to get his coat.
Damn it, I've spooked him! He must think I’m going to freak out if I notice
he’s hard for me. I have to let him know that it's okay to want me.
I trail him to the door and then slip past him to block the knob. “Can I
have a kiss?”
My dad shrugs into his coat. “One kiss, and then I have to go.”
I present my mouth for kissing. As he comes in for the kiss, I press my
hands to his chest and part my lips. As if on reflex, his own mouth opens,
and I slip my tongue inside before he can shut it. His tongue strokes mine
tentatively, then with purpose. I stretch the kiss out as long as I can before
he pulls back, panting.
“That was a very nice kiss, sweetheart. Maybe too nice...”
“No such thing as too nice for you, Daddy.” I kiss him again. “Isn't my
mouth warm?”
“It is, yes,” he says warily. I kiss the small bit of his chest that I can get
to above his shirt buttons, then drop to my knees on the rug. “What are you
doing, sweetheart?”
I reach for his belt. “Making you warm.”
“Holly, don’t, I’m—” His eyes go wide as I pull out his cock, so
swollen and alive in my fist. I might be a below-the-belt virgin, but I’ve
given my share of blow jobs over the years, mostly to get the guys to stop
hounding me for penetrative sex. My knowhow comes in handy here; even
my dad can’t say no to the promise of a warm, wet mouth on his cock.
I kiss and tongue the little slit at the top of the head, pausing to glance
up at him every once in a while. He stares, mesmerized. I take the head into
my mouth and suck gently. My dad pets my hair but doesn’t try and stop
me.
 “What if your mother comes home?” he whispers.
“If she does, she’ll get to see what she’s been missing all these years.” I
take him deeper into my mouth.
He moans as I stroke back and forth along his shaft in time with my
sucking. He braces his hands on the door so he can thrust, fucking my fist
and mouth. His eyes are closed. His cock pulses and a drop of salty precum
coats my tongue. As hot as it is, making him feel good, I don’t him to come
yet. If he finishes too soon, he’s going to leave.
I rise to my feet, but keep my hand on his shaft. As soon as my mouth is
within reach, he pulls me in for a kiss.
The honk of a car horn outside makes him jump. He moves out of reach.
“It’s just the neighbors,” I say gently, trying to reassure him.
He doesn’t look reassured.
“Holly, I have to go.”
“But we’re having so much fun.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“You’re afraid of this?” I drape the hem of my nightgown over his cock
and stroke him through the silken fabric. The noise he makes at the back of
his throat makes my nipples harden.
“I’m afraid of what will happen if I let you keep doing that.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of, Daddy. We love each other.” I lick my
lips. “Your cock is so warm. Don’t take it out into the cold. Come and sit by
the fire with me.”
I take his coat and then guide him back to the living room where I tell
him to sit in Rick’s big green chair. As I straddle my dad’s lap, I slide the
straps of my nightgown down my arms, letting the silk pool around my
hips.
“That’s a fancy bra you have on,” he says.
“I wore it for you, Daddy.” Taking his hands, I place them on my
breasts. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”
 “So nice.” He kisses the swell of my cleavage, still squeezing. I rock
back and forth over his cock. He teases one of the foam cups down,
exposing my nipple. “You have a gorgeous body, Holly. Just like I
imagined.”
“You imagined my body?” I shiver as his breath washes over my breast.
He leans forward to take my nipple into his mouth. “Oh, God...”
Reaching around, I unhook my bra and remove it, baring myself to him.
My daddy swears under his breath as he cups my tits and draws his tongue
back and forth across my nipples.
“I’ve imagined you naked so many times,” he says. “I never thought I’d
get to see it.”
My clit aches, begging to be invited to join in on the fun. Grasping my
daddy’s cock, I position the head just over my clit and start to grind.
“Oh... Oh...” I whimper as a pleasure balloon swells and bursts between
my thighs. My dad moans, too, then slides his hand into my panties. I shiver
as he strokes my clit, the fingers of his free hand continuing their wonderful
assault on my nipples.
“This has to be a Christmas miracle,” he says, right before he kisses me.
He plays with my clit until I’m twitching and crying into his mouth.
Again, I wrap my nightgown around his cock and stroke. He tilts his pelvis
with every pass, fucking my fist and wetting my nightgown with precum. I
gasp as he slides two fingers into my pussy.
“Whoa, you are tight.” His words are laced with wonder and lust.
“Don’t tell me you’re still a virgin. There’s no way I’m that lucky.”
I nod.
“How is that possible?” he asks. “You’re so fucking hot.”
“I’ve been saving it ever since you told me to.” I tighten my grip on his
cock. “I think it’s time I gave it up to someone special.”
My dad slides out of my pussy to circle my clit, then withdraws from
my panties completely. He licks his fingers and hums. “I would love to be
your first, baby girl. But first, let’s make sure you’re good and ready for me.
Lay down on the carpet.”
My nightgown falls as I climb off him. I recline on the floor, gazing up
at the glittering Christmas tree and the angel on top. My dad pulls his shirt
off and steps out of his pants before he joins me, hooking my knees over his
shoulders. He licks his lips and then licks me.
“Oh my God!” I moan as his tongue lathes over my clit, so wet and
warm. He covers my pussy with his mouth and works his tongue against
me. I bite my knuckle and try to stop my hips from moving too much, but
it’s difficult. What he’s doing feels too damn good.
“You like that, baby?” he asks.
“It’s amazing, Daddy.” I can feel the pressure mounting, an orgasm just
around the bend. The only thing that could make it better is to have my
nipples played with, so I toy with them myself. My dad looks up and
smiles. He likes to watch me touch myself. He doubles down on his pussy
licking, and in seconds I’m a writhing, moaning mess of a human.
“You make the best noises, sweetheart.” He wipes his mouth with the
back of his hand and crawls up my body. The head of his cock nudges my
pussy. I watch, riveted, as he positions himself at my opening. “Deep
breaths, baby.”
I inhale and then cry out as he eases inside me, the big, bulbous head
pushing past my lips and stretching my muscles. My dad’s stomach is taut,
as are his arms, braced on either side of me. I grasp his shoulders and watch
as his long, fat cock, disappears inside my body.
“Does it hurt?” he rasps.
It does hurt a little. “Not really.”
“You’ll get used to it.” He gives a few test thrusts, which have me
shaking. “Play with your clit until it feels good.”
I do what he tells me to, licking my fingers and stroking my clit as he
moves in and out of me. I can’t believe I’m watching my daddy fuck me.
But in truth, there’s no one I’d rather give my cherry to. No one who would
appreciate it more than the man who’s loved me since I was a baby. It’s
because of him that I’ve grow into a strong, capable girl. Why shouldn’t he
be the one to make me a woman?
“Oh, Daddy, it’s good. Fuck, it’s so good...” I press my feet to the floor
so I can rise to meet his thrusts. The pain is gone, replaced by the sweetest
pleasure. I hold on tight to him as he fucks me harder. His breathing is
shallow and labored. He watches my breasts bounce with each pounding. I
squeeze them together, pinch my own nipples and moan.
“Baby, that’s fucking hot.” His mouth falls open. “Fuck, I’m coming.
Daddy’s coming, baby.”
It occurs to me that he’s not wearing a condom, and I’m not on birth
control.
“Wait, Daddy, you can’t come inside me!”
“It’s too late,” he says through clenched teeth. “Fuck, I can’t...stop...”
He slams into me. His cock swells, and I can feel the wet heat pouring
into my pussy. Knowing he’s coming makes my pussy throb and tighten. I
come, too. Not as intense as the first time, but enough to make me feel
warm all over.
My dad collapses on top of me, clearly exhausted. I wrap my arms and
legs around him.
“Did you like your present, Daddy?”
“I loved it.” He rolls onto his side and caresses my belly. “I’m sorry I
couldn’t stop.”
“It’s okay.” I bite my lip, not sure if I want to say what I’m thinking.
Fuck it. If Daddy loves me, then he loves all of me, including the things that
could live inside me. “Maybe by this time next year, we’ll have a Christmas
miracle.”
To my surprise, he smiles.
 “I would love that, sweetheart.” He kisses me long and deep. “Let’s plan
to spend every Christmas together from here on out.”

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 About Margot

USA Today Bestselling author Margot Scott writes boundary-pushing forbidden romance that ranges
from light and smutty to dark and taboo. When she’s not tethered to a coffee IV, dreaming up wildly
inappropriate age-gap relationships, you can find her tucked into a quiet booth at the nearest sushi
place.
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