“Daddy,” I said sweetly but firmly, “I am a grown woman, and I know that a man has needs too.” His warm whiskey breath covered me as we gently struggled. My nipples hardened and pushed against the fabric of my dress. His eyes now dwelled on my bosoms.
This story is based on another submission from a different author. Super hot. Unfortunately I can’t find it anymore, so I had to write my own.
If you enjoy it, please leave a comment and positive rating.
--------
“Damn, Lizzy, this is delicious!” My father, John, said as he had another bite of the dinner I’d made us. Roast chicken and mashed potatoes, one of his favorites.
I demurely thanked him and smiled. Nothing was better than making Daddy happy.
My young daughter, Sara, and I had moved in with my father two years ago, when I’d left my abusive husband. My marriage had been falling apart since Sara was born. My husband, Frank, was only tepidly supportive of starting a family, and I’d hoped that holding his child would bring him all the joy that it brought me. Instead, it made him angry and avoidant. Sara’s birth was hard, and it took me several months to recover. All the while, Frank continued working late, going out with his friends on weekends, and coming home drunk. I tried to be a good wife and mother, but it was never enough to make him happy.
It all came to a head when Frank slapped me while I was nursing Sara in the living room. She had colic and had been crying for hours. Apparently it got in Frank’s last nerve, and I suffered for it. I tucked my swollen breast into my robe, grabbed a set of keys, and drove to my father’s house, never to return.
It took all my energy to keep Daddy from killing Frank.
I was so ashamed at how my life had turned out: 23 years old and living at home with my 48 year old father, with my daughter from a broken marriage.
Daddy moved our stuff into the spare bedroom of his house, which was situated on two acres of beautiful meadow, surrounded by forest. He bought the property after mom died, saying he needed a new start, and a place to appreciate memories rather than see ghosts.
“You just rest and take care of that baby,” Daddy instructed me. I did just that.
Frank had demanded that I breastfeed Sara, complaining about the price of formula. I only expected to breastfeed for a few months, but I quickly grew to love the time and connection it gave me with my daughter. Even at two and a half years, Sara still nurses with me at night or when she’s fussy. Initially, I only fed her in our room, feeling somewhat awkward about exposing myself to my father. The rising heat of summer quickly changed that; it was just too hot to stay in there. Eventually I breastfed around the house, or sitting on the porch swing as the evening sun shined across the swaying grass. I used a small blanket when my father was nearby, but Sara learned to pull it away, giving Daddy the occasional eyeful of my milky 36D tits.
As Sara grew, it became a little easier to become the lady of the house. I started small by decorating with items I found at the thrift store, and making simple drapes from old bed sheets. I’d bring in fresh wildflowers from my walks with Sara. I also started wearing knee length dresses, just like mom used to, and doing simple things to my hair just to look nice. Something about it just felt right. My father would quietly appreciate all my little touches. After five years on his own I think he enjoyed having a woman around.
Over time, my bitterness about my marriage faded, replaced by the love and appreciation I had for my father. Daddy was everything that Frank wasn’t: warm, kind, gentle, and thoughtful. He was also tall and handsome, with a body aesthetic of a hard-working man, and the learned grooming habits of a faithful husband. My mother had been incredibly fortunate to catch him.
Daddy did most of the cooking for us when we’d first moved in, but I eventually took over. I enjoyed cooking, but I especially enjoyed cooking for my father. He had rescued Sara and I from an awful existence, and giving him delicious meals and a tidy house seemed like a very small price. I knew all his favorites from my time growing up, and I used some of mom’s recipes that I found.
Over time we found our routine. After a long day working at the mill, Daddy would come home, take a shower, and we’d enjoy a quiet dinner together. Sometimes Sarah would enjoy her nightly nursing session at the table as we ate. Daddy would smile at me, then look through the window into the distance.
There’s a stereotype that men don’t like a lot of chatter from the women around them, and my Daddy’s no different. Just like mom, I made sure he had time and space to think, and to let him engage me, rather than me peppering him with questions.
Daddy would sit in his easy chair after dinner to watch TV or read the paper as Sara and I played on the floor. After putting Sara to sleep I’d sometimes snuggle against him for a movie like I did when I was a little girl. He’d rub his hand along my arm or rest it on my hip. Having his arm wrapped around me made me safe.
Being a grown woman, I recognized the bulge that would appear under me if I squirmed too much or nuzzled into his chest too enthusiastically. I knew it had been years since he’d been touched by a woman, so I gave him grace for responding that way to his daughter. Honestly, the idea that I made him hard was flattering. I’d lost most of my baby weight, while retaining the large breasts, soft stomach, and wide hips of a young, nursing mother. It was nice to be appreciated.
Feeling his manhood beneath me brought back memories of my childhood home, and the thin walls that separated our bedrooms. Late at night I could hear the distinct sound of bedsprings and my mother moaning. I didn’t fully understand what was happening then, but I did now.
Daddy was brought up in a rural setting and had grown up without most modern conveniences -- including air conditioning. When he bought the new property it wasn’t a feature he looked for. The house was generally comfortable throughout the year, but the long summer days could be rough, even with ceiling fans and open windows.
One Saturday evening I set about to convince Daddy to buy us one. I fixed Daddy an Old Fashioned for after his shower, and served us a dinner of cold chicken and garden salad. I nursed Sara to bed early; she’d had a long day toddling outside in the hot sun. Once the kitchen was cleaned, I made Daddy a second cocktail before excusing myself for a cool shower. I changed into a light linen dress, and put my hair in braids, like I had as a young g girl, to help stay comfortable during the hot night.
Daddy was half watching a baseball game and reading the paper. The volume was just high enough to make out the announcers voice. I moved the paper to the floor before settling into his lap, my legs across his and my head resting on his shoulder. The fresh scent of his bar soap was faint but discernable, the same one he’d used throughout my life.
I just sat with him a while, listening to the sound of his heart in his chest. He sipped his drink, and I could smell the alcohol on this breath. I waited a bit, not wanting to interrupt his peace.
During a break in the game I adjusted myself and looked at him.
“Daddy?,” I said sweetly, looking up at him doe-eyed. It was the same tone I’d used as a teenager to ask for money, clothes, or a ride into town.
“Yes, baby?” he said as he turned to look at me, a knowing smile on his face.
“You know, it’s pretty hot outside these days, and it gets pretty warm in the house.” I looked at him sweetly, dialing up my little girl tone. I subconsciously adjusted myself on his lap once more.
“I was wondering…if…we could…maybe...get a little air conditioner for my room?”
He continued looking at me, taking another sip of his Old Fashioned. I could see his eyes quickly dip to my cleavage.
“It’s just…Sara…she doesn’t sleep well when it’s hot in the house,” I continued. “Pleeeeeaaaaase?”
“Baby, I...we don’t need one of those thangs. It ain’t so bad in the house, and it’ll be fall soon.”
“Daddy, I know it’s expensive. And we don’t need to use it all the time, just on the really hot days.”
I shifted once more, clearly feeling his bulge pushing into my ass. I gently pushed my breasts together, causing my cleaving to grow. His eyes dipped again, staying just a fraction longer.
“Daddy, I’m so thankful for everything you do for me and Sara. You take care of us, feed us, and clothe us. I try very hard to not ask for anything, because I know you give us so much already.”
I tried adding just a touch of guilt and expectation.
“I try to be a good woman for you. To cook for you, and clean for you. To wash your clothes, and give you warm loving home to come home to.”
“Daddy…don’t you want to take care of your woman?”
“Woman?” he scoffed. “You’re not my woman, you’re my daughter.” He said sternly.
He tried to push me off his lap, but I resisted by holding onto his strong bare arm, causing my breasts to swell further. I could feel his steel press between my cheeks. I pressed back against it.
All of my senses became more keen. The feel of the muscles in his arm, the whiskey on his breath, and the look in his eye activated something in me. I could feel a tingle in my pussy that I hadn’t felt since before my daughter was born.
“Daddy,” I said sweetly but firmly, “I am a grown woman, and I have needs. But I know that a man has needs too.” His warm whiskey breath covered me as we gently struggled. My nipples hardened and pushed against the fabric of my dress. His eyes now dwelled on my bosoms.
I reached to my shoulder and pulled one strap of my dress down my arm, exposing more and more of my chest until my breast was fully exposed.
“I could take care of your needs too, Daddy,” I grasped his wrist and pulled his hand to my soft flesh.
“Lizzy!” he snarled, pulling his hand away.
“Shhhh, Daddy, it’s okay,” I said and I pulled the other strap down revealing myself fully. “I’m an adult, and…I want to.”
I pulled his hand to me once more, overcoming his resistance until I was fully in his grasp. His gaze flashed wildly between my eyes and my full breasts. My hand kept his in place, until finally he squeezed my flesh.
“Oh, Lizzy…”
Slowly he began squeezing my tits, exploring every inch of one before moving to the other. My nipples remained taught as he pinched them. I moved my arm behind my head, giving him full access to my torso. He caressed me gently, stroking my neck, shoulders, and arms before return to my breasts. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the arm rest.
His touch was unlike any man’s I had experienced: soft, firm, loving, and thorough. I had only known boys. My father was a man.
I reached behind his neck and pull him toward me. I could feel his resistance, and the moment it evaporated. His warm mouth enveloped my strawberry nipples, his tongue pressing it against the roof of his mouth. Warmth surged into my breasts as my let-down released my milk into my father’s mouth.
“Oh, yessss, Daddy” I moaned softly, pulling him deeper.
He groped one breast while sucking on the other, moving from the nipple to my soft skin below, licking the cleft around to my side. Every pulse of his mouth sent waves down my body and into my pussy and uterus; it was like nothing I’d ever felt. My milk dripped from my breasts and down my sides. Moisture began to drip from my slit.
Daddy released his hold on me and leaned back. I opened my eyes fearing that he would stop. He looked at my body from head to toe and back again. His eyes were intent, and his breath was deep.
Using both hands he slipped my dress down my sides. I was riddled with a mix of lust and horror as he pulled it under my ass and off my legs, leaving me in a pair of baby blue panties. I hadn’t been this exposed to my father since before puberty. He consumed me with his eyes before sliding his hands over my legs, thighs and tummy. His hand dipped between my thighs, my body reacting by raising one knee, giving him access to my panty covered ass. He breathed in through gritted teeth as he gripped my cheeks and soft inner thighs. I could feel the strength of his hands as they kneaded my flesh.
His fingers traced lightly over my navel before sliding under the top of my panties. Moving side to side, he slowly moved them down my body, my trimmed mons coming into my father’s view. Within moments my panties joined my dress on the floor.
My natural reaction was to cover myself from my father, but he lightly held my wrist and moved it behind my head. Something inside me unlocked as I gave into him. My body was now fully open to Daddy’s eyes.
“Lizzy, you are so beautiful…” he said quietly as he caressed by body.
He leaned forward again to suck my leaking tits as his hand worked between my thighs. My legs raised and opened, giving my father access to a daughter’s most forbidden area.
He deftly spread my lips and dipped his finger into my honey pot. It was soon joined by his thumb stroking my engorged clit. Pleasure like I had never known flew through my body. Perhaps it was his skilled touch, or perhaps it was the taboo of who was doing it.
My mouth radiated sounds it had never made before. I felt his teeth clench my nipple as Daddy’s finger plunged inside my pussy. A rushing wave of pleasure overcame me, my body convulsing repeatedly in ecstasy.
In that moment, I felt that I’d discovered a new reality. Sex with my husband made he think that smut romance novels were lies. I’d never felt even a fraction of what my father had just done to me. He had activated something inside me that I never thought possible.
As I returned to reality I felt him lift my body from my shoulders and legs. I grasped him around the neck as he rose from the chair and carried me through our house. I felt small against his frame as he gracefully slipped through the threshold of his dim bedroom and placed me gently on his bed.
I heard his shirt hit the floor as I propped myself on my elbows and watched him reach for his belt. His body exuded strength and maturity. I watched his pants slide down his thighs, followed quickly by his boxer briefs. I got my first glimpse of his cock as he turned toward me. It looked like the cock of a man.
I felt the cool breeze of the ceiling fan across my glistening labia as he stroked himself and looked at me. Pre-cum leaked from the tip and onto the floor.
My mind raced through all my memories of my father. Chasing each other in the back yard. Swimming together at the pool. Watching movies on the couch. Introducing him to his granddaughter. Crying into his chest as my life crumbled. It had all led to this moment: the beginning of new chapter with my father.
I spread my legs, giving Daddy his first unobstructed view of his daughter’s pussy. I was blossomed, wet, and ready. His eyes devoured me.
I was the lady of the house now.
He kneeled on the bed and smoothly covered my body with his, my hands grasping his sides and back.
Our eyes met, and it was clear that all of our words were in the past. This was our future.
He grasped himself and slid the head of his cock up and down my slit, spreading pre-cum across my clit and lips. My mouth and pussy both opened as he pressed himself forward and entered my body, pumping inch after inch inside me. A sense of fullness radiated through my body as until finally his pelvis met mine. His wide hips forced my legs wider, my toes pointed sharply outward
“Oh, Baby…” he said as he pulled and out and pressed back into me. Our bodies clapped for the first time.
His hand slid under my shoulder and grasped my neck tightly, holding me in place. His long body and immense strength made me feel small. He was much, much bigger than my husband.
His body tensed as he began to fuck me. Hard. My gentle father was gone, replaced by this animal.
“Daddy…uh…uh…Daddy…oh my god…” I cried out. I pumped my pelvis against his.
His grip on my neck tightened as his pace increased. Daddy was fulfilling his need using my body; I was here for it. The wet clapping sound of our bodies became louder. The head of his cock smashed against my cervix with each stroke, pain mixing with pleasure as he fucked me.
“Oh, oh, oh” he grunted, until he finally thrust hard and deep inside of me, pulling my neck and body down onto his cock as he pushed himself forward. I could feel his muscles thrusting hard over and over. I came on my father’s cock – the cock I had come from 23 years before. I pictured rope after rope of his cum splashing in my body, my cervix gulping his sperm into my womb. The incestuous beauty of that thought fueled my climax. My legs wrapped around his body and pulled him deeper, the convulsions running through our bodies.
He collapsed on top me, exhausted. I could feel his heart beating deeply against my chest. Our coupling had lasted mere minutes, but he had given me everything. As his breathing slowed he propped himself up to look at me. A surge of cool air race between our sweat-sheened bodies. Our eyes met once more, his searching for a sign that I was okay, and mine giving it in spades. I had never been more okay.
Daddy stood on wobbly legs and went to the bathroom, quickly returning with two warm washcloths. He used one to clean himself, and the other to wipe my thighs, cum-covered pussy, and ass. Such a gentleman.
I soon learned that we weren’t done. After five years in the desert, I understood his thirst.
He held my hips and slid me to the edge of the bed. Holding my legs apart, he brought his face inches from my vulva, looking at closely at my most intimate area. I watched as he leaned forward and gently kissed my lips. I knew that society would see this act as disgusting. But in that moment, in that place, with this man…it was beautiful.
My head arched back as he split my lips with his tongue, pressing deep inside me before lapping at my clit. Sparks flew through my brain with another level of pleasure. My lousy husband had tried eating me out once, but he was terrible at it. I could tell that Daddy knew what he was doing. That he was licking his own cum from his daughter’s pussy seemed unbelievably erotic.
Daddy explored me with his mouth, slurping on my inner and outer lips, sucking on my clit, and licking deep inside my pussy. He pushed my legs back and licked my ass for several minutes, bringing me to orgasm as he rubbed my clit. After my third climax I had to push him away. I rested on my side, completely overwhelmed by Daddy’s oral skills.
After a few minutes, he rolled me onto my back once more. I opened my eyes to see his hard cock hanging between us. I was dumbfounded; I thought older guys were one and done. Not Daddy.
He spread my legs once more and glided into me.
Daddy was slower and more patient the second time. He lavished my forehead, cheeks, and neck with kisses, and stroked my breasts, thighs, and ass as he fucked me. I’d never felt more appreciated as a partner and as a woman. I came hard with him once more, my core and legs exhausted from exertion.
I savored the feeling of his warmth inside me and I drifted to sleep almost instantly.
I woke to an empty bed the next morning. Memories of the previous night flashed in my mind, and I worried about what I’d done to my relationship with my father.
I showered and washed my sore pussy, reliving the feeling of Daddy’s cock sliding into me.
I walked out to find Daddy playing with Sara. He’d changed her and fed her breakfast. He was a good grandfather, and a good man. I was just beginning to learn that he was also an incredible lover.
We went for a walk that afternoon as Sara took her nap. We talked about Mom, and loneliness, and relationships, and new beginnings. I told him that I loved what we’d done and was ready to take care of all his needs. Daddy said he needed a few days to think about it.
The next morning, I was half dreaming when I felt my panties being pulled down my legs. I opened my eyes to see Daddy, naked and hard.
“Open your legs, Lizzy. Daddy needs to fuck”
I obeyed, and he fucked me good.
“You mother would be so proud of you,” he whispered as we laid together after, his fingers tucking my hair behind my ear. I felt good knowing I was taking care the Daddy the way Mom would.
That was the turning point in our relationship. I became the lady of the house, with taking care of Daddy’s needs amongst my most important duties.
And it turns out that Daddy has a lot of needs.
It started slow. He’d walk up behind me as I was cooking or washing dishes. After a few kisses on my neck, his hands would slip my dress off my shoulders to gently stroke my nipples. Eventually he’d have me bent over the kitchen island, my dress bunched at my waist as my leaking tits swayed to the rhythm of our clapping bodies. After he finished I’d return to my work, reveling in the feel of Daddy’s cum oozing from my pussy and down my legs.
After Sara was in bed, I’d walk out to the living room and drop my dress in front of Daddy’s chair before straddling. He’d suck at my udders and finish anything his granddaughter had left behind. The feeling of his whiskers on my soft flesh made my pussy drip. His fingers would stroke my clit as he drank, bringing me to earth-shattering orgasms. Afterward I’d kneel between his legs and worship his cock, licking from his balls to the tip. It was in these sessions that I learned to nurse from Daddy’s cock, drinking his life-milk just as he drank mine. More than once I asked him to cum on my face, which felt devious, disgusting, and intensely erotic.
I grew to learn his habits and desires. I’d catch him looking at me if I was bent over a little too far, or when I was nursing Sara in the living room. Once she was settled with a movie, I’d grab his hand and pull him into the bedroom for a quick fuck. I loved giving myself to him whenever he wanted me.
I tried a few times to take him in my ass, but he was simply too big. Despite that, he loved having me on all fours with his face nuzzled deep in my crevice as he licked my clit, pussy and asshole until I was begging for him. He’d rub his pre-cum over my puckered hole before plunging into my pussy. His hands would grasp my swinging breasts and expertly manipulate them until I began spraying milk across the bed. He’d pinch and pull my nipples hard as I came. I bit my lip as pain pulsed with pleasure.
As the limits of our relationship faded, he began to simply take what he wanted from me. I’d wake in my room from a cloudy, sexual dream about my father only to find myself cumming on his fingers as he laid behind me and manipulated my clit. Fully wet and ready, my back arched and he easily guided his cock inside me. I moaned into my pillow as he held me tight against him and soiled my womb with his seed.
Within months I moved into his bedroom. My body yearned to be filled with Daddy’s essence, whether on the back of my tongue, in my pussy, or running down my thighs.
After a year of keeping on like this, I decided I wanted to have Daddy’s baby. It was well known that he’d wanted a son when I was born. Maybe having a daughter had worked out for him after all.
I secretly went off birth control and made sure I took every load in my pussy while I was fertile. I think Daddy was getting suspicious, but it didn’t take long for life’s magic to take place. I started showing after a few months; Daddy was elated, if still a little concerned. He loved my pregnant body, and I loved sharing it with him. Soon enough, Alex was born. He’s perfect, and a spitting image of his father – no surprise there. Daddy was also thrilled to have a few more years of my milk to enjoy.
The best part of our relationship is that Daddy is still my father. We go on walks with Sara and Alex, and talk about our community and the world. He teaches me about cars and home maintenance, and how to manage money. I’m so lucky to have him.
And if you’re wondering…yes, I got my air conditioner ;)
Doc OliviaReport