Posts Tagged daddy

Dad Quest

After my mom passed away, I did go a little crazy.

It had always been just the two of us together: single mother and only daughter.  Her parents had cut her out of their lives when she got knocked up, and the guy who made her pregnant, my dad, was just never a part of the picture.

The cancer started out in her left breast, and it spread like a dirty rumor, until her whole body was cancerous.  Even her tumors had tumors.  About the only positive thing I can say about her passing is that she didn’t suffer very long.

I dropped out of college; I simply stopped attending my classes. I started collecting knives and Japanese throwing stars. I made myself a garrote, a three-foot length of sixteenth-inch diameter aircraft cable with a swaged loop at either end for handles, wrapped in duct tape, that I carried with me at all times, coiled up in my purse. I stopped taking my birth control. I studied anatomy textbooks with bad intent. I masturbated myself to sleep late at night to Green Beret field manuals and practiced throwing my shuriken at male pornography taped up on my apartment wall.

Like I said, I’d gone a little crazy. I’m better now. I’d like to think I achieved some kind of catharsis.

Mom never finished high school; she dropped out before I was born.  I graduated at the top of my class, and at the time my mom died I was the only female math major at my university.  (That’s not actually saying that much; there were only seven math majors in the whole department.)

I decided to find my dad: find him, fuck him, and kill him.

Getting his name was the easy part; I had my mother’s yearbook from when she was a sophomore, the last year she had gone to school.  They had signed each other’s pictures.  “Love Always’ she had written; “Yer a babe!” he had scrawled under her photo.

I guess I could see why she had been attracted to him.  He was a Bad Boy, obviously.  In the photo, he wore a defiant sneer and a backwards-facing baseball cap, and his head was tilted back at a sardonic angle, just daring the camera to come a little closer.  He was a skinny little dude with a face that reminded me of a ferret and the shadow of a mustache haunting his upper lip.  He looked like the type of guy who might carjack you with a switchblade.  I looked and looked at the little black-and-white photograph for a long time, but I couldn’t see myself in that face, not at all.

Finding his name was easy; finding the man wasn’t so simple.  It wasn’t as if he had a Facebook page, and there were three Dan G_____s listed in the city white pages, none of whom was he.

Fortunately for me, Pops had a bunch of credit card debt; and a friend of mine who was a computer science major was able to extract his home address and place of employment.  He lived in an old industrial town about 90 minutes upstate, and he worked at a metal extruding factory. He was the second shift foreman.

I started hanging out in upstate redneck bars. I guess I was surprised at how little I got hit on, but in retrospect I suppose I shouldn’t have been. A twenty-two year old girl with an obvious chip on her shoulder, wearing an old army jacket and black jeans and combat boots drinking jack-and-cokes alone spells one thing: Trouble.

Anyway, it didn’t take me long to find him. It was the Easy Street bar, a rather banal little dive a few miles down the road from his factory, where they had classic rock on the jukebox and Budweiser on tap.

When he came in, I didn’t recognize him right away. The years had not been kind to him. He had probably put on a hundred pounds since that ratty-ass sophomore picture had been taken 22 years ago; it wasn’t concentrated in a big beer gut, his body had just gotten thick. He had a high forehead and thinning salt-and-pepper hair, and he wore a gold stud in his left earlobe. It looked like he’d done a lot of rough living since he’d knocked my mom up.

The thing that gave him away were the eyes. As soon as I saw those sad, deep-set, sea-grey eyes, I knew it was him. They were the same eyes I saw every morning when I looked in the mirror.

He wasn’t popular with the crew. I’d already heard talk in the bars: he was a hard-ass boss, a tough case, a prick to work for, an intolerant, humorless sonofabitch. Looking at him, I doubted that he had any friends at all. He came to the Easy Street most nights after his shift, eight-ish; sat by himself at the bar; had two beers; and drove home. Alone.

I watched him and watched him, over the course of a week, and then I put my plan into effect.

I left my car sitting at the park-and-ride, and walked the three or so miles along dark, sidewalk-less back country roads to Easy Street. The bartender recognized me by now, and set me up with a jack-and-coke.

He was late. I was worried that he wasn’t coming at all; some nights he didn’t.

It was nearly ten before he showed up, wearing a frown that could sink a battleship. He sat down heavily at the bar, emitting a long drawn-out sigh that reminded me of the hydraulic brakes on a big rig.

“Rough day?” I asked.

“Rough day,” he snorted. His hands reminded me of bear paws: huge and hairy, stained black with oil and metal grease. “Rough day. Two guys call in sick and one shows up drunk, and of course we get a big order in late in the day.” He looked at me quizzically, “Who’s askin’ anyway?”

“Let me buy you a drink” I nodded to the bartender, who fetched Pops a tall, frosty cold one.

“So we get this big order for box-tube, and of course the freaking die breaks, and I have to change it out myself, which is a freaking bitch, and then it’s late and none of the guys want to do overtime, so I’m stuck running the freaking machine myself, which is hard work and freaking dangerous… safety third, that’s our company motto.”

While I listened to him talk, nodding sympathetically at appropriate pauses, I was picturing him fucking me: me flat on my back with my legs wrapped around his pale ass, his big dick pistoning in and out of my pussy, humping me like a big hairy cartoon ape, grunting and snorting as he fucked. I wanted to murder him, to feel him blow his last breath in my face even as his cock twitched inside my cunt.

My panties were now distinctly moist. I shifted the way I was sitting on the barstool, bringing my knees close to, but not quite in contact with his. He finished his beer and got another. He bought me a drink too, and that was when I knew I was in. I let my hand settle on his thigh. He jumped, startled, at the touch, but didn’t move away.

“Could I get a ride?” I asked when he had finished his second beer.

“Where you going?”

“Where do you want to take me?” I asked.

I sat next to him in the passenger seat of a tan Ford station wagon that was older than me. I wondered if he’d owned that car when he was dating my mother. I wondered if he’d fucked her in the back seat, directly behind where I was sitting.

Of course I’d fantasized about doing it slowly, getting him to let me handcuff him to his bed, and then sitting astride him, engulfing his cock with my cunt before taking fingers and toes and ears and maybe his nose with my knife while he screamed and bucked and protested beneath me, unwittingly bringing me to orgasm after orgasm as he struggled. I knew it wasn’t going to go down like that; I intended to do this and to get away with it, and that meant doing the job quick and quiet; but it was a nice fantasy.

I wasn’t sure if I would call his place a house, or a shack. It was a tiny, single-story structure, overhung with trees. In the moonlight, the roof looked like it was sagging dangerously.

“I don’t bring many women home with me,” he allowed, “’scuse me if the place is a mess.”

It actually wasn’t that bad, for a single dude’s apartment. There were a bunch of hot rod and heavy metal posters straight out of the ‘80s. Tidy stacks of magazines: Popular Mechanics, and Hot Rod, and Penthouse, and Hustler. A very dusty, very old bowling trophy. A couple of plastic model cars. His clothes for the remainder of the week were laid out folded on top of his dresser. It was kind of cute, actually.

He wanted me. I could tell, and he was nervous about it, he didn’t know how to proceed. Ha! Of course I was going to fuck him, why else would I have let him take me home? I wondered how long it had been since he’d been with a girl. My handbag felt heavy with the weight of my marine Ka-Bar knife and the garrote. I had a Sog tactical dagger in a boot sheath in my Doc Martins and a tiny illegal switchblade in my jeans pocket. I felt like I was ready for anything.

I imagined Pops fucking me, skewering my juicy young pussy on his gnarly old dick, huffing and puffing as it slid in and out, the veins in his forehead bulging out with the effort. I imagined fucking back against him, whispering encouragement, playing with my clit and pulling on my nipples as he fucked me. I imagined him coming, his eyes locked on mine, his face red, his belly jiggling, his cock pistoning spasmodically. I imagined grabbing the marine combat knife out of my handbag by the bed just as he squirted his incestuous sperm into my cunt, and sliding the huge sharp wicked blade deep into his solar plexus, just under his rib cage, seeing those sad sea-grey eyes bulge out with shock and confusion right in middle of his orgasm. I imagined myself coming, bathed in his sticky red blood, as he croaked out his last breaths, his cock still frantically jerking around inside my cunt as his bulk settled on top of me, dead.

I imagined letting him fuck me, and after he was done, asking him very sweetly to go down on me, to lick his hot daddy come out of my tight little girl pussy. Of course he would. I’d set my legs on his shoulders and let him do his thing. He might be pretty good at it too. When I felt like the time was ripe, when I was good and wet and close to coming on his tongue, I’d fish out the switchblade knife. I’d reach down and stick it into his neck, breaking the skin, pressing the tip of the blade up against his carotid artery. “Lick me good Daddy,” I’d purr at him, “Lick me real good.” And he would. He’d lick my pussy frantically, hoping that if he did a good enough job it would save his life. When I came, I’d give the knife a vicious jerk, severing the artery, and he’d look up at me with wide, wide eyes, mouth silently opening and shutting, face covered in my slimy juices, his life blood squirting out of his neck with every pump of his heart, squirting up and onto me, all over my heaving tits as I rubbed myself off to a long, body-wracking, protracted orgasm.

I imagined letting him fuck me, fuck me as long and as hard and nasty as he wanted, letting him do whatever he pleased with my lithe young body, until his come was all over me and inside me, and he was tired and satisfied. I pictured him getting up to use the bathroom, and me sneaking up quietly behind him, and slipping the garrote around his neck and throttling him while he peed. I imagined leaving his lifeless naked body crumpled across the toilet in his dingy little bathroom, and me hiking quietly back to my own car. I wondered how long it would be before someone found his body.

He asked me if I’d like a drink, a beer or some water or anything. I pressed myself boldly against him, bolder than I’d ever behaved with a guy before, letting my breast brush against his chest and putting an arm around his waist. I told him I could think of something I wanted. I let my hand traverse down the front of his jeans. He smelled of work: hot metal and oil and sweat. I kind of liked that smell. It was kind of sexy.

There was a nice bulge in the crotch of his jeans, and I gave it a friendly squeeze. His hand found mine, and our fingers interlaced. He was so nervous he was trembling. I could feel his heart beating, and it was fast, fast. Wouldn’t it be the ultimate irony if the poor guy had a heart attack on me?

We maneuvered into his bedroom. It was pretty neat and tidy for a guy’s room. The bed was made. There was an open Penthouse magazine lying on the floor by the bed, and I made a point of squealing and picking it up. “Oooh naked girls!” I flopped onto his bed. The mattress was small and rather hard and lumpy. I flipped the magazine open to a spread of two heavily made-up models with scary long fingernails getting it on in a hot tub. The blonde girl’s tongue was outstretched, close to, but not quite in contact with the brunette’s carefully manicured pussy. “Oooh, sexy!” I cooed, “Do you think it’s hot when girls do that? I do.” I looked up at him, suddenly mock-concerned. “Do you like girls with big boobs?” I indicated my own not-exactly tiny rack.

“I think what you’ve got is just fine,” he said, “As a matter of fact, I think you’re beautiful.”

“Really?” I said, tossing the porn mag aside, “You really think so? Do I remind you of anyone?”

He looked thoughtful and confused, a look that quickly evaporated as I took off my top and bra and wriggled out of my jeans.

I went to work on removing his pants. He had tighty-whities on underneath. My pussy salivated as I tugged them off, exposing my Daddy’s goods to the harsh light of the incandescent overhead light.

He was only halfway hard. His cock hung down, thick and sluggish, in front of a fat pair of balls. The head was purple, and a long strand of pre-come was leaking out the tip. His balls were heavy and hairy.

I playfully flicked my tongue, licking the salty head of his dick, and his cock jerked at my touch. I was going to enjoy this immensely.

I took the whole, semi-soft thing into my mouth, sucking hard and swirling my tongue around, making popping and slurping noises with my mouth. I cupped his balls with my hand, squeezing gently. My other hand caressed his backside, exploring his crack, petting bolder and bolder into the forbidden territory of his ass, daring him to beg me to go further. His cock responded eagerly, swelling like a nature-documentary time lapse, blossoming into full hardness until my mouth could no longer contain him. It was nice and big, and had an upward curve, and the head strained eagerly out toward me. I softly tickled his asshole with one finger and dragged my tongue up along the underside of his cock, tracing the big vein, from the base all the way up to his pee hole. I looked up at him and grinned toothily.

He took off his shirt and pulled off his socks. His belly wasn’t really that big, he was just a thick man. There was a tangled nest of dark hair on his chest that straggled down to his crotch in a furry, meandering line. He had a long, white scar on one shoulder.

I pulled off my own panties. The crotch was definitely wet, and my cunt was pleasantly squooshy. My clit felt hot and swollen, nestled in between my pussy lips.

I should have made him use a condom; I had no idea what I’d do if he got me pregnant and who knows where he’d stuck that penis of his in all the years since he’d impregnated mom; for that matter he should have insisted on a condom: he had no idea where my pussy had been and what I might be infected with. But that wasn’t the way I wanted it, and apparently neither did he.

I lay flat on my back on his lumpy single bed, my legs splayed obscenely apart. He clambered on top of me, guiding his erection carefully with one hand, aiming it with the care and concentration of a skilled mechanic.

I sighed involuntarily as he penetrated me. His cock entered my body slowly, steadily, inexorably. It had been rather a long time since I’d had an honest fucking, and no matter what they say, it feels totally different when the guy isn’t wearing a condom. I could feel every texture of his cock as it moved inside me. My own father was fucking me and I was so turned on it ached. I could now officially register myself as a pervert.

He started fucking me, excruciatingly slowly, like a steam engine chugging up to speed. His eyes were narrow slits focused on mine. His thrusts were powerful, they made the bed shake, they made my tits bounce up and down. My cunt was humping back against his cock, meeting his every thrust. I could feel his balls slapping against my ass. His breathing was hard and ragged, and so was mine.

Shit, I was going to come! I couldn’t believe it, but it was sneaking up on me, overwhelming me. Penis-in-vagina sex doesn’t usually get me off, especially without a lot of extensive, kinky foreplay first. I wanted him to come along with me. I wanted his DNA inside me, for it to meet up with my DNA, and for my egg to kick his sperm’s ass. I kicked my legs frantically, lolling my head from side to side, arching my back and gurgling incoherently as he chug-chugged along, fucking my slippery wet pussy like a god-damned pussy fucking machine.

I don’t know when I’ve come that hard or that long before. My whole body tingled pleasantly; all the hair on my arms was standing on end; my nipples stuck out like sore thumbs; my clit felt distended and hyper-sensitized.

He was still inside me, still hard, but he was no longer moving.

“Did you come?” I asked.

“No,” he said sounding a little embarrassed, “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to. It’s been a very long time since I’ve done this.”

“Take me from behind” I said.

I rolled over onto all fours, and he slid his dick back up my juicy pussy. He started over again, fucking me like a potato masher. I encouraged him to fondle my breasts and slap my ass and tug on my hair. I wanted him to fuck me straight to hell. I wanted him to take me and use me the way he had taken and used my mother. He obliged, fucking me for what seemed like hours on end. He fucked me until it started to hurt. Still, he showed no sign of slowing down or getting off.

“Do you want to fuck me up the ass?”

“You mean anal sex?” he asked.

“That’s right,” I said, wiggling my butt seductively.

“I’ve never done that before…”

“I think you should do it to me now” I told him.

“I’ll be gentle” he said.

“Just fuck my ass” I said.

He pulled out of my tender pussy and nudged his slick cock against my puckered asshole. I blew out a long breath as the thick, bulbous head muscled its way through my tight sphincter.

I buried my face in the pillow, panting and growling as he butt-fucked me. I was stretched taut, filled up, invaded, pummeled from behind. I reveled in the pervertedness of it, my own daddy was sodomizing my asshole. My fingers found my swollen clitoris and I was coming again, coming in choking, gasping jerks as he fucked my ass.

“I can’t,” he panted at last, “I can’t come. I’m not going to be able to. I’m sorry.”

He carefully pulled his cock out of my poor battered little asshole. His face was all red and covered with a sheen of sweat. He was breathing hard, and the veins in his neck stuck out.

“Then masturbate for me,” I told him, “jerk off onto me.”

I lay on my back and he straddled my chest. He took his cock in hand. It was shiny wet with my juice, and red from the exertion. He squeezed it tight, painfully-looking tight, and started stroking himself with that vise-like grip. Slowly at first, then faster and faster and faster until his hand was a blur and the head of his cock looked like it was ready to explode. His big balls and his belly jiggled as he pumped. His penis was aimed at me like a loaded shotgun.

Finally he croaked out “Oh… oh… oh!” His hand froze, mid-stroke on his cock. His back arched and his eyes went wide.

The first squirt caught me on the cheek and across my nose. The next splashed onto my neck. More landed on my breasts. It was an awful lot of come. He milked the last pearly-white drops out of his shrinking dick onto my tits. I felt like I was covered in the stuff. He sat next to me on the bed, breathing hard. I dipped my finger into the slick of come on my breast, and brought my finger to my lips. His semen was salty and bitter and warm. I licked my finger clean and swallowed. My father was inside me.

We fell asleep side by side on the narrow bed. He snored like an old V-8 engine idling. One of his heavy arms was thrown across my chest.

We only slept for a few hours. When we woke up, grey light was filtering in through the window. The sun was just rising behind a heavy layer of clouds.

“I gotta get ready for work” my dad said.

“I’ve got to get going.” I said.

He sat up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “Will I see you again?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Listen,” he said to me, “Listen. I’ve got a little girl out there somewhere, a daughter I never got to meet. She’d be about your age now. I’ve wasted my life. Don’t waste yours.”

I got dressed and left him there. I walked the three or four miles back to the park and ride. My dad’s come was dry on my face and chest, sticking to my shirt and flaking off. The clouds were low and grey and heavy, and it started to rain. The cold drops mixed in with the warm salty tears that ran down my cheeks.


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The Good Twin

It’s funny.  To the outside world I was the nice, sweet, good one.  But in my own head, I was a very bad girl.  I guess most girls have had crushes on their daddies. I’d never told anyone, not even my twin, Jessica.  And I don’t think that most girls have fantasies quite as perverted as mine.

Twins are supposed to be really close, right?  Well Jessica and I have never been incredibly close.  I mean, we like each other, we love each other, but we’re just two very different people, always have been.  Jess was always the wild child, the party girl, trouble with a capital T.  And I was the good twin, the shy, bookish one.  We looked pretty much alike; not identical but very similar: both of us were slim and not particularly busty, and we both had dark hair that we wore long; but our physical appearance was where the similarities ended.

It was our first weekend home from college (Jess had gone to Vassar, I was at NYU); and yes, I was snooping.  It’s a bad habit, but what can I say?  I found what I was looking for, pretty much right away.  I had snuck into my dad’s study while everyone else was out back, and what I found made me instantly wet.  Not the content- it wasn’t my flavor of porn at all; youngish looking models with too much makeup and really big boobs and lots of messy blowjobs; it was the fact that it was my dad’s naughty secret that really turned my crank.

I guess Mom and Dad must have had sex at some point; I mean they had Jess and me.  But I’d be willing to bet they haven’t done it again in the nineteen years since we came along.  I still remember and shudder at the ‘sex education’ talk that Mom tried to give us when Jess and I were about 13.  She made sex sound about as appealing as having an un-anaesthetized appendectomy.  I also remember something she had once said in an offhand way about oral sex (I think it was during Bill Clinton’s second term); she said she’d rather die than put that filthy thing in her mouth.  Mom has gotten more and more judgmental and severe as we got older, and more and more often her answer to everything is ‘read your bible’.  She’s constantly on a diet, and looks hard, pinched.  My dad, on the other hand, is a good looking, affable man in his early fifties who works out a few times a week and laughs a lot.  I guess I never quite gotten over the crush I’d had on him in high school.

Most evenings, before dinner, dad would go up to his study and ‘work on paperwork’.  And I wondered, yes I did!  That evening, after dad shut himself in the study, I snuck around to the window and peeked inside.  Sure enough, dad was scrolling through a series of pictures of a blonde chick with big, fake looking boobs, enthusiastically slurping on a big cock.  Best of all, as far as I was concerned, he had his trousers down, and his non-mousing hand was busy between his legs.  I couldn’t exactly see his cock, but it certainly didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.  I got incredibly turned on, and I felt my pussy get suddenly slippery, knowing that I was watching my father jack off.

My peeping, and my dad’s masturbating, were rudely interrupted by my mom calling us to dinner.  He scrambled to get his pants up, while I scrambled to not look like I was peeking in the study window.  We both made it to the dinner table looking, I must say, pretty casual.

That night, in my bedroom, in the room that used to be my bedroom before I gave it up for a college dorm, I was too horny to sleep.  I lay there in the dark, playing with my nipples and my pussy, torturing my sensitive little clit.  I looked over at the clock.  It was almost two in the morning.  Something had to give.  Finally I decided: it was now or never.

Naked, I got up and went out into the hall.  I winced as the floor creaked under my feet.  Ever so gently, I eased open the door to my parents room.  I let myself in, gingerly closing the door after myself.

The bed was illuminated by the nearly full moon swinging high in the night sky.  My mom was on the right side of the bed, snoring regularly.  My dad was on the side nearest me, lying on his back.  I held my breath.  Neither of them moved.  Not believing that I was really doing this, feeling like someone else had occupied my body, I tiptoed to the side of the bed and lifted up the sheet.  My dad was sleeping nude.

Well, if there ever was any doubt, this confirmed it:  I really was a pervert.  Not even daring to breath, I ran my fingertips oh so softly along the unbelievably soft skin of his flaccid penis.  To my amazement and delight, his cock responded instantly, swelling happily in response to my tentative touch.

Holy shit!  My dad now had a full-on erection, and a nice big, yummy looking one at that.  I really couldn’t believe I was doing this.  If either one of them woke up right now, I was so completely screwed!  But by this point I was way too horny to let that stop me.  I eased myself down onto my knees and planted a baby kiss on the purple head of his dick.  His cock jumped up to meet my mouth and I was hooked.  It was so hard and hot and sexy and tasty!  I stuck out my tongue and lazily dragged the tip of my tongue from his precious wrinkly ball sac to the pee hole at the end of his red hot cock.

I felt his hand in my hair, and I almost squealed out loud.  But I didn’t.  I managed to keep it together.  He was just gently playing with my hair.  I couldn’t tell if he was actually awake or not.  I took the opportunity to lay my head down on his firm, hairy tummy and to take the purple head of his cock between my lips.  He was so hot!

I wrapped my thumb and forefinger around him, and started stroking.  I had to do it very slowly and softly, or the bed would squeak in a most alarming way.  He kept toying with my hair.  I let one hand slip between my legs.  I couldn’t believe how dripping wet I was down there!  It was actually running down my thighs!

In the dark of the bedroom, the cock in my hand felt enormous.  I risked moving my hand on his cock a little faster, squeezing a bit more.  He moaned very softly, and I could feel his muscles tensing up.  I wanted him so bad, I wanted him to come, I wanted him to squirt into my mouth.

I took the finger that had been exploring the slippery confines of my pussy and brought it up to his mouth.  I wanted to show him how turned on I was by this.  He sucked my finger into his mouth, licking it clean.  “Oh Jessica,” he whispered under his breath.

‘Jessica??  I’m Andrea!’ I thought.  Oh well, that’s what you get for being the good twin.  Dads’ hand found my breast which he cupped and squeezed before concentrating on the nipple.  Honestly, I don’t know which one of us was more excited, him or me!

Just then my mom stopped snoring and rolled over.  We both froze.  I waited a long time, a minute, two minutes.  It was excruciating.  I had the head of Dad’s cock in my mouth, and I could tell that the slightest little thing would set him off.  Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, I heard Mom snore again.  Gripping his dick as tightly as I could, I pumped for all I was worth.  It only took about a second.  Every muscle in his body tightened up and his ass lifted up off the bed.  His cock spasmed and squirted about a pint of hot, sticky, bitter, salty semen into my mouth.  I swallowed and swallowed again.  Feeling dirty and hot and perverted and sexy, I let his wet, shrinking dick slide out from between my lips.

I kissed my dad on the forehead and pulled the sheet back over him.  Then I carefully tiptoed out of the room and closed the door after myself.

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When we graduated from college, my roommate Myrna and I were moving to New York, and we wanted to get there by driving the trans-canada highway.  My mom didn’t really approve, but my dad thought it sounded like a great idea.  He volunteered to come with us, to keep us safe and to help us move in, and for the adventure of it.  Myrna and I were excited to have him along; unlike my mother, my dad is very cool and fun to be around.

Myrna and I had been lovers for almost a year, and while we weren’t exactly “out” to our families, we didn’t go out of our way to hide it either.  I don’t know how much my parents knew, or guessed, but they always referred to Myrna as my “friend” or my “roommate”.

When moving day came, we swung by my parent’s house to pick up dad, say goodbye to mom, and grab a few last things.  We had been packing up our apartment until late the night before.  The back of Dad’s Chevy Astro was already pretty full of Myrna and my stuff.  There were a few boxes of mine still to go in though.  One thing, of course, led to another, and we ended up staying for lunch.  Before lunch, I went up to my dad’s office to check my email, and that’s when I stumbled on his porn stash.  I really mean stumbled; I wasn’t snooping.  First of all, I was in a hurry, and already a little annoyed at our late start; and second of all, it just wouldn’t have occurred to me that my dad kept porn on his computer.  I guess I understood that my parents must be sexual creatures, but I preferred not to think about it.  My dad was trim, neat and tidy and dignified; my mom was quite overweight, older looking than her 47 years; serious, stiff and formal.

I happened to bring up the ‘documents’ menu and along with my dads business correspondence, it was full of pornographic sounding file names.  Well, of course then I had to have a look.  It turned out that my dad had a whole lot of porn on his hard drive.  In fact he had an entire folder labeled “porn”.  It was fairly standard stuff, but the bulk of it was blowjob themed: young looking girls with big boobs sucking dicks and getting come on their faces.  Not really my kind of thing.  My porn preferences are 1) pretty lesbians; 2) anal sex; and 3) pretty lesbians having anal sex.  Not that I disapproved.  Far be it from me!  In a way I felt proud of my dad.  I was glad I wasn’t the only family member who wasn’t a prude!

Myrna walked in to the office, and I just had to show her.  Before we were dating, Myrna called herself the “Blowjob Queen”.  She said that was the one thing that she missed in lesbian sex.  “Licking a clit just isn’t the same” she told me.  I begged to differ, but I’d never given a blowjob, so what did I really know anyway?

Myrna and I looked through dads naughty pictures, and giggled like schoolgirls for a few minutes, but we really had to eat our lunch and get on the road, so we shut down the computer and headed downstairs.

“I wonder if your mom ever gives your dad head” Myrna mused to me as we left the room.

It was hard to imagine.  Both my parents were school teachers, but sometimes that seemed to me all they had in common.  My mother had become religious, conservative, all stiff and serious.  She was the pessimist of the family.  If something seemed fun, she would probably be against it; and list all the reasons it was bad for you and would send you to hell.  Needless to say, she had argued against my moving to New York.

It was afternoon before we finally got on the road.  I had been looking forward to the drive for a long time.  I had heard that the trans-canada was a beautiful road.  I was looking forward to moving into our new apartment, and to living in the big city.

We crossed the border without any problem, and headed off into Canada.  With the late start, we only made it through Vancouver before it was already getting dark.  We stopped for pizza, and got a hotel room.  We had planned on camping out most of the way, but we were still in the suburbs and there was nowhere to pitch our tent.

There were two beds in the room: one for me and Myrna, and one for dad.  After watching Canadian TV for a while, we turned out the lights and went to bed.

Myrna and I had quiet sex in the dark that night: her large full breasts pressed against my smaller ones, kissing deeply, rubbing each others clits and probing each others pussies.  We tried to do it silently, but I don’t know just how successful we were.  When Myrna pressed her index finger against my asshole, I came, kissing her hard and grinding my clit onto her palm.

The next morning, we all woke up early, eager to get on the road.  Myrna got up, still topless, and gathered her things before going into the bathroom for her shower.  I don’t know who was more shocked; me or my dad.  Myrna has a beautiful head of curly brown hair, and mischievous deep blue eyes; but her best asset is unquestionably her breasts.  She has the kind of boobs that I thought only existed in magazines: big, full, symmetrical and gravity defying, with small brown upward pointing nipples.  I love Myrna’s breasts, though she constantly complains about them: they are too big, it’s hard to buy swimsuits and bras, it’s hard to jog, and they’ll end up sagging… I don’t have a lot of sympathy.  I’m not exactly flat chested, but I’m not what you would call busty either.  My dad tried not to stare at Myrna’s lovely rack as she jiggled around the room.  He wasn’t very successful, and I couldn’t blame him.  She pretended not to notice, and immerged from the bathroom freshly showered and fully dressed.  Dad and I took turns taking our showers, and then it was time to hit the road.

We drove all day long, through the Canadian countryside, mostly two lane road with long stretches between small towns.  It was hot, and even with the air conditioner on, we were sweating.  Thunderclouds sometimes gathered on the eastern horizon, but the sun beat down on us all day. Suddenly we were climbing up into the Canadian Rockies.

The storm broke at the same time we pulled into the campground.  Lightning flashed, thunder crashed, and the rain poured down in blinding sheets.  We sat in the minivan and watched the storm.  When the worst of it seemed to have passed, we got out and set up the tent.  Putting up a tent in the dark and rain may not sound like fun, but after a long day of driving in the heat, we played like kids in the rain.  The tent got put up, our stuff made its way inside, and all three of us were soaked.  We piled into the tent, and stripped off our wet clothes.  It was pitch black.  I suspected that Myrna had stripped completely nude; a quick caress confirmed it.  Throwing caution to the wind, I joined her, pulling off my damp underwear.  I didn’t know if Dad could tell, but it did feel really good to be sleeping nude next to Myrna.  Our sleeping bags zipped together.  We slept with our bodies intertwined, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees.

I woke up early, as I usually do when I am camping.  The tent was filled with soft, pre-dawn light.  I looked over; Dad was still asleep.  Myrna, however, was awake.  Our eyes met, and my clit tingled in anticipation.  We would have to be really really quiet about it, but there was no way we weren’t going to do it.  I kissed Myrna softly, and she kissed me back.  We kissed like that for a long time.  Then I felt her talented fingers probing between my thighs.  I moaned softly into her hair, and squeezed her ass.  I was so hot for her.  What I really wanted at that moment was to don my strap on and fuck her pussy really hard; then maybe to flip her over and fuck her in her sweet little asshole.  That, unfortunately, was totally out of the question.  I could still fuck her though.  I let my fingers slip between her ass cheeks, finding their way down to her already wet pussy.  She whispered in my ear “Yes Jenny, fuck me.”

I unzipped the bag halfway to give myself better access and so I could enjoy the sight of my beautiful naked lover as she squirmed on my fingers.  She got up on her knees and arched her back like a cat.  My pussy drooled at the sight.

“If you girls are going to have sex” I heard from the other side of the tent “Do you mind if I masturbate?”

I was stunned speechless, shocked and embarrassed.  How long had he been watching?  What must he think of me?  I didn’t know what to do or say.  Fortunately Myrna spoke up.  “Of course you can Mr. Davis. Go right ahead.  We don’t mind.”

I didn’t mind, really.  Why shouldn’t he masturbate?  If anything, I thought it was rude of us to be fooling around in the tent.  My dad isn’t a bad looking man; he stays in shape, runs every day, and has done marathons.  Of course, I had never seen him naked before.  Now I could see his penis, and it was clear that he was pretty excited, but that was only natural; he was after all, in a tent with two twenty-two year old girls who were getting it on in front of him.  So what if one of them happened to be his daughter?  He was stroking his penis, which I thought was kind of interesting; I had never actually seen a man masturbate before.  At the moment, however, I only had eyes for Myrna.

She crawled out of the bag, and I knelt behind her for better access.  Her pussy and ass were splayed for my pleasure.  Her boobs hung down, and her face was covered in her brown mop of hair.   I slipped a finger up her pussy and she responded hungrily.  She was really wet, and scalding hot inside.  I love fucking her.  I added another finger, then another, fucking her hard and fast with my hand.  Her own finger was busy with her clit.  I rubbed myself as I fucked her.  I was incredibly turned on.  It felt weird to be on display like this.  I felt hot and dirty.  I knew that my own father was watching me have really hot sex with my girlfriend, and was stroking himself to our most intimate acts.  I felt my juices running down my thighs.  Myrna’s tiny asshole looked incredibly sexy and inviting.  I slipped a finger between her cheeks and ran it lightly up and down her crack until her asshole gasped with desire.  I pressed my finger against her opening and she pushed back onto me.  Her ass was tight, but it accepted my wet finger easily.  I buried my forefinger in all the way up to the knuckle.  Her ass grabbed me tight.  I twisted my finger in her anus.  Myrna moaned uncontrollably as I fucked her in both her holes.  It felt incredibly sexy to have fingers from both my hands moving inside my lover.  Myrna came, and I stayed with her, fucking her hard as her body bucked and spasmed, feeling her orgasm on my fingers.  When she was done, my fingers were totally coated with her come.  I was right on the edge myself.  Myrna spun around and pressed her tongue to my clit, and quickly pushed me over the edge.  I came, grinding onto her mouth, moaning out loud and pulling on my nipples.  As I was recovering, I saw my dad come.  His eyes were glazed, and his hand was a blur.  He shot halfway across the tent.  I thought that was pretty neat.  I was amazed at how much came out, and how forcefully it shot.  I get really wet, but I wished I could squirt like that.

We didn’t talk about what had happened; it was just too weird.  Instead we went on with our day as if nothing sexual had happened.  We had planned on spending a day or two hiking around Banff, and that is what we did.  It was incredibly beautiful.

At one point, when Myrna and I were alone on the trail, she told me that she thought my dad had a delicious looking dick.  I was a little surprised.  It hadn’t occurred to me; I thought a penis was a penis.

“Oh no” Myrna said “His is beautiful.  It’s just the right size, and it looks yummy.  In fact” she paused “Would you consider letting me go down on him?”

Oddly enough, the idea didn’t bother me at all.  I knew Myrna loved giving blowjobs; my dad appeared to have a thing for blowjobs and probably hadn’t had one from mom in years.  Why not?  It would be kind of sexy, in a perverted kind of way.  Furthermore, tomorrow was his 49th birthday.  I had gotten him a card, but this would be a knockout birthday present from both of us.

We had lunch at a small diner off the road next to a crystal clear lake.  Dad suggested that we hike up to an alpine hut and spend the night there.  Myrna and I had exchanged looks at that.  We sat in the sun and ate ice cream on the edge of the lake.  Myrna made a show of licking her cone in a very suggestive manner.  I had a hard time keeping from breaking out in uncontrollable giggles as she licked and tongued her cone.  She has one talented tongue.  I don’t know what dad thought, but by the time she was done, I was starting to wish I was her ice cream cone!

The hike up to the hut was short in terms of distance, but very steep, and the trail was rough.  The landscape was incredibly gorgeous, just breathtaking.  We had to keep stopping to rest and to take pictures.  The last part of the trail was straight up a gully full of loose rock.  Every few minutes we heard the sound of falling rock.  Just going up that slope took over and hour.  By the time we made it to the hut, a small structure nestled at the very top of a high pass, it was dark, and we were exhausted.  We had just enough energy to heat up some stew and then it was bedtime.  Being midweek, we had the place to ourselves.  We arraigned our sleeping bags near the fireplace and turned in.  The wind howled eerily around the little hut, but I was asleep as soon as I was in our bag and my eyes were closed.

I woke up late.  Dad and Myrna had already made breakfast:  hot oatmeal and black coffee.  We sat outside on the rocks and ate and enjoyed the sun and the view.  I brought out the card that Myrna and I had signed for Dads birthday.  He thanked us, and kissed us both on the cheek.  The sun was warming things up.  I peeled off my fleece.  Myrna took hers off too.  It was pretty obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I could clearly see her large breasts under her t-shirt, swaying freely.  I knew Dad could see them too.

“Mr. Davis” Myrna said quietly, almost shyly, “When was the last time you had a blowjob?”

My dad looked uncomfortable, embarrassed.  “To tell you the truth” he said “It’s been a very long time.”

“How long?”

“Well about twenty years.”

There was a long pause.  Myrna and I looked at each other.  “I would sure like to give you one” she said “for your birthday and all.”

The next thing I knew, Myrna had her top off, her beautiful boobs free in the mountain air.  With obvious relish, she was pulling my dads pants off.  The head of his penis was peeking out of the waistband of his underwear, which she quickly pulled down and off.  I watched as it sprung free, almost hitting Myrna in the face.  She started out by kissing it, licking up and down his shaft, nuzzling his balls, and then dragging her tongue along the length of his shaft. The she rubbed her tits all over his wet penis.  He caressed her, petting her hair as she buried her face in his crotch, slurping it up and down, sucking him all the way into her mouth.  I was amazed that she was able to get his entire length into her mouth.  His dick looked pretty big to me; it was about the same length as our strap-on.  Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, I found myself getting really turned on watching my beautiful girlfriend pleasuring my dad.  I unbuttoned my own jeans and slipped my hand inside my panties, where my clit was already poking out from under its little hood, and my vagina was oozing happily.

Dad was moaning and groaning and caressing Myrna’s hair as she sucked him in earnest.  She held his ass in her hands as her head bobbed up and down on his dick.  I rubbed my clit hard and fast as he arched his back, emptying his balls into Myrna’s mouth.  She stayed with him until he was done, drinking him all down.  They watched enraptured as I finished myself off, rubbing furiously and gasping for air as I came with my legs spread wide, my pussy pornographically exposed, swollen and wet.

We all had big goofy smiles on our faces as we hiked down the mountain back to our van.

It was back on the road again.  We bought dad lunch, and headed off in the Astro into the east.  The dramatic mountains slowly changed into rolling hills as the miles clicked away on the odometer.  The sun went down behind us, and the shadows got long as we looked for somewhere to camp.  We finally pulled into a provincial park just off the highway where we made camp.

We had picked up a six pack, and after we had eaten dinner and the tent was pitched, we all sat on the picnic table and watched the stars come out as we drank a beer.  I was sitting next to dad; Myrna was sitting next to me.  She reached across me and started playing dad’s crotch through his pants.  I drank my beer and watched, enjoying the show as the lump in dad’s pants grew.  Myrna soon had his dick out in the open, and was stroking it slowly.  Myrna was right; it did look delicious.  I liked the way it swelled and twitched under her touch.  When Myrna took my hand in hers and brought it to my dad’s penis I was a little surprised, but I didn’t resist.  It was hot and silky smooth in my hand.  I kind of liked it.  I petted it slowly, enjoying the texture.  Then I felt Myrna pushing me down toward dad’s swollen cock.  I hesitated for a second, and then went with it, taking his prick into my mouth. It felt big and hot and alive in my mouth.  I started sucking, letting my tongue explore him.  I heard him groan, and thrust slightly into my mouth.  It felt good.  I could kind of see what she meant about blowjobs.  I felt Myrna tugging my jeans down, and I got on my hands and knees on the table, keeping dads penis in my mouth.  With Myrna’s help, I kicked my panties off, and felt the cool night breeze on my wet crack.  Dad reached under my t-shirt and cupped my breasts through my bra as I continued sucking him.  I realized at that moment, how incredibly weird this was.  I was sucking my own father’s dick, even as he was pulling up my bra and playing with my sensitive nipples.  This wasn’t right; it was sick.  But it felt so damn good!  I was really turned on.  I don’t know if I could have stopped even if I had wanted to.  And I didn’t want to stop.

I felt Myrna’s tongue probing between my ass cheeks, and I moaned in delight, my mouth full of my father’s hard meat.  Soon, her long, talented tongue was circling my anus, licking and squirming up inside me, driving me crazy with desire.  I reached between my thighs and found my cunt all wet and slimy.  I offered my sticky fingers to dad, and he licked my juices off my fingers.  Meanwhile Myrna had inserted a finger in my hungry ass hole.  It felt so nasty and erotic to be butt fucked like that, my hot girlfriend fingering my butt while I sucked my dad off.  I was determined to make my dad come in my mouth the way Myrna had that morning.

Myrna added another finger and another, stretching me to the limit.  Damn!  How many fingers did she have in me?  I was diddling my clit and sucking for all I was worth.  It felt like she had her whole hand up my ass.  I didn’t know if I could take much more.  I felt incredibly, excruciatingly full.  I felt like I was going to explode.  I couldn’t decide whether to beg her to fuck my ass harder or tell her to stop.   Then Dad reached under me and slipped his big middle finger up my tight pussy, pressing against my g-spot.  I orgasmed hard, my ass clenching on Myrna’s hand, my pussy gushing sticky wetness.  I let Dad’s dick fall out of my mouth as I shook and squirmed on their fingers.  I just kept coming and coming like it would never stop.  Finally, I collapsed in a quivering heap on the table top.

The next thing I was aware, Dad had Myrna on her back on top of the picnic table next to me, and was fucking her pussy.  I got down between her thighs, and licked the two of them as they fucked.  I ran my tongue all over her labia, stretched around Dad’s penis, down the crack of her ass to her precious little brown hole, and up to her tiny pink clit.  I licked her juices off dads cock and balls.  Sometimes he would pull out all the way and I would take him in my mouth for a few seconds before guiding him back inside Myrna.  She was moaning my name over and over; I knew she was close to coming.  Dad started fucking her hard and fast.  I got out from beneath them; at this point I was just in the way.  I held Myrna’s hand and kissed her as she came.  She looks so beautiful when she orgasms; her stomach heaves and her abdominal muscles flex and she gets a rash across her chest and her eyes half close, and she gets the most sexy smile on her face.  Dad came as a second orgasm shook Myrna’s body, crying “Fuck Fuck yes Oh Yes.”  It was the first time I had ever heard my dad is foul language.

Dad’s come was leaking out of Myrna’s tired hole.  I felt compelled to lick it up.  I didn’t know why; I just had to.  It didn’t taste bad; it didn’t taste like much of anything.

We didn’t fool around with Dad any more on that trip.  I think we all knew that we had crossed a dangerous line, and had to take a step back.   Once, on the long drive down from Canada through New York State, while Myrna was asleep in the back, Dad confessed to me that in the twenty three years he had been married to Mom, this was the only time he had been unfaithful.  I didn’t know what to say.

Dad helped us get moved in, and then started the long lonely trip back to Seattle. Myrna and I loved the city and our new apartment.  We were kept busy finding jobs and getting settled and adjusting to the city.

When Myrna missed her period, we didn’t think much of it; she is notoriously irregular, and we figured that the move and the new surroundings were to blame.  A few weeks later though, she started getting ill in the mornings.  A trip to the doctor confirmed it.  She was pregnant.

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